A Fatal Chapter

“Not at all,” she said, distracted.

Tricia tried to go back to work, but her thoughts couldn’t seem to stray from the the idea of Janet lying on the damp ground outside the Society’s headquarters all night. She considered calling the hospital to get an update, but realized that the HIPAA laws would prevent her being told anything of relevance. Instead, she took her cell phone into the Chamber’s small kitchen and called Grant Baker’s personal number and was surprised when it didn’t immediately roll over to voice mail. “Baker here.”

“Grant, it’s Tricia. I just heard about Janet Koch. What happened?”

“It looks like her attacker smashed her head into the stone wall. We found traces of blood on the side of the building. She was found by a coworker. The EMTs estimate she’d been lying on the ground outside the Historical Society’s back entrance all night.”

“But she has a husband. Didn’t he worry about her?” Tricia asked.

“He’s out of town on a business trip. One of their neighbors tracked him down. He’s on his way back from Chicago and should get in this evening.”

“What a terrible thing to come home to. What are Janet’s chances?”

“I haven’t gone to the hospital, but I did talk to a doctor in the ER. It doesn’t look good.”

Tricia’s heart constricted. “She’s such a lovely woman. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.”

“It sure looks suspicious. First Renquist is killed, then his coworker is attacked. What’s someone got against the Historical Society?”

“I can’t imagine. They’re all such nice people.”

“I’m warning you, Tricia: don’t use this incident as an excuse to go poking around,” Baker said.

“Me? Poke around?”

“Yes, you. Someone means business, and you may have used up your store of good luck.”

The village jinx having good luck? From the corner of her eye, Tricia saw Miss Marple enjoying her afternoon bath. Tricia had come so close to losing the cat in the fire. Yes, she did possess a lot of luck. But she wasn’t willing to push that luck, either.

“I have no wish to be the next victim,” Tricia said firmly. “I heard Janet is at St. Joseph.”

“Yes. I’ve got a call in to see if I can get some protection from the Sheriff’s Department, and if I do, she won’t be allowed visitors. She’ll need them more when—or if—she recovers.”

If. It was a pretty big word when someone’s life hung in the balance.

“Thank you for speaking to me,” Tricia said.

“I’ll let you know if we come up with anything.”

“Thank you.”

They said good-bye. No sooner had Tricia shoved her phone back into the pocket of her slacks when her ringtone sounded. She recognized the number and frowned: Christopher. She considered tossing her phone out the window, but as Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy” continued to play, she stabbed the incoming-call icon. “What?” she demanded.

“Trish?”

“Yes!”

“Are you mad at me?”

“You mean you couldn’t tell?”

Silence.

“What do you want now?” she asked crossly.

“To apologize. It didn’t occur to me that—”

“That you might ruin my reputation?”

“That’s a little strong,” Christopher said reproachfully. “I mean, you are my wife.”

“Ex-wife,” she said with emphasis on the first syllable.

“And it’s not like the village doesn’t know about your past liaisons.”

“Keep talking, Christopher. You’re digging yourself in deeper and deeper.”

“I’m sorry. I mean it. What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Please, just leave me alone,” Tricia said wearily.

“You know that’s impossible. I care about you.”

Tricia indulged herself and rolled her eyes.

“Will you and Angelica be working on the flowers again tonight?” Christopher asked.

“Yes, but do me a favor—don’t join us. Stay home. Don’t even look out the window.”

“But I worry about you. I’d never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

Yada yada yada.

It was time to cut the conversation short.

“I accept your apology. Have a nice day. Good-bye.” Hoping he’d get the message and not call back, she broke the co

With that decided, Tricia returned to her desk and refreshed her e-mail.

The phone rang. Pixie picked it up. “Stoneham Chamber of Commerce. This is Pixie. How can I help you?”

Tricia opened an e-mail from Dr. Wimberly’s dental office inquiring about the monthly networking meeting.

“Oh, sure, she’s right here.” Pixie covered the mouthpiece and looked directly at Tricia. “It’s for you.”

“I’m not taking calls from Christopher Benson.”

“It’s from your insurance agent.”

Tricia’s heart skipped a beat, and she grabbed the receiver from the phone on her desk. “John? Please tell me you have good news about the insurance settlement.”

“Sorry, but sometimes no news is good news.”

That wasn’t what Tricia wanted to hear.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not wrong, but . . . a

Tricia sighed. “I’m sorry he’s nagging you. He’s been bugging me, too.”

“He seems to think that the quicker we settle, the quicker you’ll buy it.”

“Mr. Kelly has an inflated opinion of the building’s worth. According to the agent at NRA Realty, he’s asking at least ten percent over market value. He won’t come down, and I’m not going up.”

“How long is it until your lease is up?”

“Another year. And, unfortunately, I’m still paying monthly rent, though I can’t use the building or live there.”

“We understand that, but as I warned you at the onset, these things take time. There’s a lot to consider and—”

“Yes, yes,” Tricia said, cutting him off. They’d been over this territory far too many times in the past six months. She didn’t need to hear it again. “The next time I speak to Bob—and I’m sure it won’t be long—I’ll ask him to refrain from calling you.”

“Thanks. And as soon as I hear anything, I’ll call you—day or night.”

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks, John.”

They said good-bye and Tricia put the phone down. She noticed Pixie hovering.

“No good news?” Pixie asked anxiously.

Tricia shook her head.

“Don’t get me wrong. I like working here and at Booked for Lunch, but I just want to go home.”

Tricia felt the same way. “I’m glad you think of Haven’t Got a Clue with such affection.”

“Well, I’m not in a hurry for either of you to leave,” Mariana said.

“Unfortunately, once the settlement comes through, we’ve still got to wait for the store to be refurbished. There was a lot of fire, smoke, and water damage on the first floor. It can be fixed, but it’s going to take a couple of months.”

“If nothing else, we’ll be open for the Christmas rush,” Pixie said, her gold tooth flashing as she gri

Tricia smiled. Pixie’s faith gave her hope. “Yes, we will.”

“Until then, we’re a team, right?” Mariana asked.

“You bet your ass,” Pixie answered.

“Then we’d better get back to work,” Tricia said.

“Are you nearly done with the newsletter?” Mariana asked.

“Just waiting for Angelica’s okay. Then I’ll pass it along to you two for a final proofread.” She pulled up the file but found it hard to concentrate with so many other subjects preying on her mind. Poor Janet lying in a hospital bed near death while Bob and Christopher kept concocting new ways to a