A Fatal Chapter

“Thank you,” Tricia said. “As you can see. I brought my own.”

Janet poured for them both, and they each doctored their coffee the way they liked it. “Won’t you sit down?”

Janet sat behind a desk of dark wood that Tricia guessed might be mahogany. Although old, it didn’t match the décor of the rest of the house.

“I feel rather strange sitting at Pete’s desk. Until the board meets in a few days, I’ll be taking care of the day-to-day activities.” She swallowed hard and took a sip of her coffee, her eyes brimming with tears.

“I take it you and Pete were good friends.”

“You could say that. We’d worked together for the past five years, but of course Pete had been here much longer, first as a volunteer and then as one of the staff. We had many a brainstorming meeting right here in this office as we struggled to get funding—that is, until Nigela Ricita made a generous donation.”

“Did she, now?” Tricia asked, her interest piqued.

Janet nodded. “We sent a letter, just our regular yearly solicitation, and were shocked when she sent us half a million dollars.”

Tricia choked on her coffee. “She did what?”

Janet nodded. “That nice young man, Antonio Barbero, brought the check himself.”

“But I never heard a thing about it.”

“And you won’t, at least not officially.”

“Ms. Ricita also made a generous contribution to the Horticultural Society. They hope to rebuild the stone temple at the end of the garden with it.”

Angelica had her fingers in many more pies than she’d let on. But Tricia didn’t want to discuss the further adventures of Nigela Ricita—at least not at that moment.

“I didn’t know Pete well,” she said, changing the subject, “but we’d spoken many times since I came to work at the Chamber. Did Pete have family here in Stoneham?”

Janet shook her head. “He’d been divorced for many years, and as far as I know had no contact with his ex-wife for at least a decade.”

“He mentioned he was a dad.”

“I believe he had a daughter, but they weren’t close. She lived with her mother in California.”

So Pete had a daughter. Then why had he said he’d never missed his little boy? “Just the one child?” Tricia asked.

Janet nodded and sipped her coffee.

“What will happen—I mean, as far as any arrangements?” Tricia asked.

“Pete once told me he wanted to be cremated and his ashes spread in the garden out back. Of course, the board would have to approve it, but I think it would be a lovely memorial after all the time he spent here, and I know it would have pleased him.”

“When did you say the board would meet next?”

“Our next regularly scheduled meeting isn’t for three weeks, but they’ll have to convene an emergency session to figure out how we move forward.” Janet’s frown deepened. “Pete had a joie de vivre that attracted people. It worked well for him in this job.”

“So, he had no enemies?”

Janet looked surprised by the question. “No.” Then she seemed to think better of it. “Well, he was a terrible flirt, which a

“Does Earl Winkler have any friends?” Tricia asked.

Janet almost managed a smile. “It would be hard to believe. I’m still in shock he ever got elected to the Board of Selectmen.”

“So am I.”

Janet’s gaze wandered to the wall where a group shot of people, including Pete and herself, hung. She sighed. “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Did you know I was the one who found him in the park?”

Janet looked up. “No, I didn’t.”

“Did he often leave the office and go for walks during the middle of the day?”

“Sometimes. He said it helped him clear his mind. Nobody minded. He put in many more than the forty hours a week he got paid for. He loved this house. He loved the gardens. He was very enthusiastic about the upcoming ghost walks at the Stoneham Rural Cemetery and at St. Rita’s church. He’d been researching the people buried there, interviewing people, reading old books, and writing up various scripts.”

“He really enjoyed the work,” Tricia stated.

“You bet.” Janet shook her head, sadness etched across her features. “We’ll figure out a way to carry on. I know the ghost walks will be a success.”

“Had you or Pete ever spoken to Michele Fowler about volunteering? It was she who first suggested the ghost walks.”

“I’ve only met her once, at one of our fundraising cocktail parties. Do you think she’d be interested?”

“I know she works a lot of nights at the Dog-Eared Page, but I’ll bet she’d be game. And you know, that English accent of hers would be a hit with anyone who came on the walks.”

“I noticed people do tend to pay attention when she speaks. Would you be willing to put a bug in her ear?”

“I’d love to.”

“Thanks.” Janet rummaged in the desk and came up with a business card. It was Pete’s. She crossed off his name, writing in her own. “I’ll have to get new ones made, but the phone number is good.”

Tricia pocketed the card and drained her cup. “I’m keeping you from your work.”

“And I’m keeping you from yours,” Janet said with what almost passed as a smile. She stood.

Tricia stood, too, and on impulse walked around the desk to give Janet a hug. “I’m so sorry you lost your friend.”

“Me, too,” Janet said, her voice breaking. “Me, too.”

FIVE

Angelica arrived at the Chamber office at precisely nine forty-five, dressed to the nines—business style—and looking ready to take on the world. For a moment, Tricia felt a kind of flash of déjà vu—seeing her sister à la Auntie Mame, with a zest for life and a take-charge attitude that could move mountains and shift whole continents. And not for the first time, she felt a stab of jealousy.

After greeting Mariana and Tricia, Angelica grabbed a cup of coffee from the kitchen before joining them in the office, where she sat down at her desk. Angelica could have used the downstairs bedroom as a private office but had chosen instead to have a desk right in the living room with the rest of her staff. She definitely hadn’t played the diva card since assuming the Chamber presidency, insisting that, since she didn’t spend the majority of her day at the Chamber office, there was no need for her to take up so much real estate. Instead, the bedroom had become a small conference room. “What have we got on tap today?” she asked.

“The grand opening of the Antiques Emporium.”

Angelica nodded. “I love these ribbon-cutting events. Do you realize this is the sixth new business to open since I took over as Chamber president?”

“Did you have anything to do with bringing them here?” Tricia asked.

“Not me, personally, but Karen Johnson from NRA Realty worked tirelessly to court them. They’ve already got twenty vendors and have space for another ten. Karen’s pretty sure they’ll rent the space within a week or two.”

“Lucky them,” Tricia said.

Angelica turned a jaundiced eye on her sister. “Don’t you want to see Stoneham thrive?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t like attending ribbon-cutting ceremonies.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m the one who has to tote the fake oversized scissors and the big roll of red ribbon to these affairs. It makes me feel like a dork.”

“It’s not like they’re heavy,” Angelica said.

“Then I stand around while you get to pose and look important.”

“Darling, I am important!” Angelica sighed. “If you’d prefer to stay back here at the office, I’m sure Mariana will accompany me. But I’d much rather you come.”

“Why?” So she could show off in front of Tricia?