Murder on the Half Shelf by Lorna Barrett Read Free Book Online Page B

at the most inopportune time. Was this another one?
    She glanced at the postmark and frowned. Nashua, New Hampshire. Christopher lived in Colorado. Her anxiety level dropped and she took out a letter opener to slit the package open. Inside was a white envelope. She slit that open, too, and a photograph fell out, landing on the top of the display case. Intrigued, Miss Marple jumped down from her perch to take a look.
    Tricia turned the photo over. A Post-it note was attached. In block lettering it said:
We’ll meet again.
Tricia peeled off the note and saw a picture of herself, taken some indeterminate time in the past at what looked like a sidewalk café. In it she wore a straw hat, sunglasses, and an outfit she didn’t remember ever owning—and she was laughing.
    “
Yow!
” Miss Marple said.
    Tricia frowned. Who could have sent the picture? And why didn’t she remember where it was taken, who had taken it, or the occasion? Was the note supposed to represent a threat or a wistful remembrance?
    Mr. Everett appeared before her, dusting the sill around the display window. He looked over at her. “Is something wrong, Ms. Miles?”
    Tricia shook her head and stowed the picture under the counter. Mr. Everett went back to his dusting.
    But Tricia couldn’t help but feel unnerved by the photo, and she wondered who could have sent it, and why?

SIX
    As expected, the agency that was to send over the day’s applicant to interview for Ginny’s former job called to cancel. The candidate had apparently found a better-paying job. That worried Tricia. She was already offering two dollars over minimum wage. Maybe she’d have to raise the starting pay. But as the three previous contenders for the job had proven unsuccessful, she wasn’t feeling overly generous. She’d get to that point
after
they’d stayed in the job for more than a couple of weeks.
    After snagging a bottle of wine, Tricia grabbed her coat from the back and snuggled into the sleeves. “Mr. Everett, I’m leaving now.”
    Mr. Everett paused in his shelf straightening and hurried over to the cash desk.
    “Are you sure you don’t mind me taking an early lunch today?” she asked.
    He shook his head. “Grace has a lunch meeting, so I’ll be eating alone again today,” he said rather wistfully. That had been happening a lot lately.
    “I’m not going to the café, or else I’d promise to bring you back a sandwich. But Angelica always makes enough to feed an army when she’s testing a recipe. I’m sure there’ll be leftovers…I’m just not sure what kind of leftovers.”
    “I’ll be fine. I brought a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”
    Tricia tried not to shudder at the thought. Oh well…as long as he enjoyed them.
    “I’ll try to be back in an hour. But knowing Angelica, she’ll probably try to get me to walk Sarge, too.”
    “That’s why I prefer cats,” Mr. Everett said. At that, Miss Marple lifted her sleepy head and blinked at them both. She’d been dozing in the front window, wound around a copy of the latest Tess Gerritsen book.
    Tricia smiled. “See you in about an hour.”
    Tricia walked the ten feet to the Cookery and entered. Frannie Mae Armstrong, who managed the bookstore for Angelica, was with a customer. She waved a quick hello, and Tricia headed to the back stairs that lead to Angelica’s loft apartment on the third floor.
    The door was unlocked, so Tricia let herself in, hung up her coat, and followed the hall to the kitchen, which smelled heavenly.
    “Anybody home?” she called.
    “In the kitchen,” Angelica hollered.
    As usual, Angelica was standing over the kitchen island, making notes on what looked like manuscript pages. Sarge stood next to her and gave Tricia a chipper bark in greeting, the tip of his fluffy tail wagging merrily.
    “What smells so good?” Tricia asked, and inhaled deeply.
    “Sausage and vegetable strudel. It’s a takeoff on a recipe I’ve made hundreds of times, only this is my pizza version. I