A Fatal Chapter by Lorna Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

surprised when he didn’t slam the door behind him. Shrugging, she got up, went to the kitchen, and made what was sure to be the first of many pots of coffee that day.
    Tricia heard the side door open and was surprised to find Mariana coming through it. “You’re here bright and early.”
    “I’ve got a dental appointment this afternoon. Angelica said it would be okay if I came in early I could leave early, too.”
    “That’s fine with me,” Tricia said, and stood to one side, waiting for the coffee to brew.
    Mariana got the carton of milk from the fridge, grabbed a cup from the drain board, and poured. “There’re more dishes than usual this morning. You must have had company last night.”
    “A friend dropped by,” Tricia admitted, unwilling to say just who it had been, and made a mental note not to leave evidence on the counter again. Mariana handed Tricia the carton, knowing she’d be doctoring her own cup.
    “I heard Pete Renquist died. It’s such a shame. He was so nice.”
    “Yes, he was.”
    Mariana shook her head, poured herself a cup of coffee, then left the kitchen. She settled at her desk, turned on her radio, and jumped into her workday.
    Tricia lingered at the kitchen counter, putting away the dishes before pouring herself a cup of coffee and heading down the hall for the office.
    The front door handle rattled, and Chief Baker entered the office. “Good morning, ladies,” he called.
    Thanks to her being the last person to speak to Pete Renquist, Tricia wasn’t at all surprised to see the chief. “Good morning, Grant.”
    “You can probably guess why I’m here.”
    “Oh, yes. But I don’t think this is the appropriate place to talk,” she said, eyeing Mariana.
    “How about your quarters? I understand you’ve got a cozy living room upstairs.”
    “And how would you know about that?”
    He shrugged. “I heard it . . . somewhere.”
    “I don’t think that’s the appropriate place to talk, either.”
    “Would you like to go down to the station?” he asked, his voice much harder than it had been.
    “Why don’t we go to the park?”
    Baker let out a breath. “To the scene of the crime? That would be satisfactory.”
    “Mariana!” Tricia called. “I should only be gone for ten or fifteen minutes.”
    “I can hold the fort,” she said.
    Tricia took her coffee with her and led Baker to the front door.They exited the building. Tricia was the first to speak. “I’m surprised you didn’t call me last night,” she said as they headed south on Main Street.
    “I was on my way over, but then I saw you had company. I thought you and Christopher weren’t dating.”
    “We’re not.”
    “It looked like you were having dinner.”
    Tricia stopped dead. “Were you spying on me?”
    “No, I . . . well, I will admit that I was on my way over and saw him enter the Chamber building. I came to the door, intending to knock, but then . . . I don’t know what came over me. I walked around the side of the house and just happened to glance through the kitchen window.”
    Tricia hadn’t served Christopher for some ten or more minutes after his arrival. How long had Baker stood there, watching them? And why hadn’t they seen him?
    Tricia wondered if Nigela Ricita Associates—rats! Angelica—would spring for a set of new blinds for the kitchen.
    “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to report to the police that I’ve got a Peeping Tom when
you’re
the Tom.”
    “It was wrong of me. I apologize.”
    “Grant, you have to get over this jealousy.”
    “I’m not jealous. Just a little envious.”
    “It’s the same thing.”
    “No, it isn’t,” he insisted. “I envy the fact Christopher and you are still friends.”
    “
We’re
still friends—or I thought we were until about a minute ago. And I thought we’d set those boundaries quite some time ago.”
    “We did. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
    It had better not.
    Tricia took a sip of her rapidly cooling