Page 110 of Murder on the Page

“You didn’t.”

“I did, but I had a job to do, and you were, let’s face it, getting in the way.”

“By offering you clues?”

“By . . .” He worked his tongue inside his cheek and managed to smile. “I care about you.”

From his tone, I gathered that it was theconcernedkind of care, not thelet’s fall in lovekind, and resigned myself to be okay with that. “I care about you, too. Friends.” I jutted my arm to shake hands.

He took my hand between both of his. “Yes, friends. But I’d like it to be more than friends if . . .”

I held my breath. What were the conditions? Could I comply?

“If you like me,” he said. “I’m not sure you do. Not in the way I mean. Maybe you were showing interest because you wanted information about the investigation.”

“No,” I blurted. “I like you, too. I do.”

“In that case, I want to ask you on a date if . . .”

There was another stipulation? Honestly? I tilted my head, waiting.

“If you don’t get involved in any more murder investigations.” He offered a lopsided grin.

I smiled, too. Perhaps a memorial wasn’t quite the place to be flirting, but I felt Marigold might approve. “I think I can make that promise.” At least, I hoped I could, because I really did like him. A lot.

“Everyone,” Tegan said, microphone in hand. She was standing at the lectern. Her hand was shaking with nervous tension, but when she glanced at me and I mouthed, “You’ve got this,” she plowed through her discomfort. After all, she’d practiced the speech a dozen times with me as her audience. “I can’t tell you how much my aunt appreciated all of you. How much she loved this bookstore. How much she enjoyed sharing her appreciation of books with you. Take a moment to remember her fondly, and in her honor, continue reading asmuch as you can. Open your minds to the wonderment of a good story. Talk to others about what you read. Spread the word.”

“Hear! Hear!” Zach said.

“And now, before I get maudlin, remember my aunt’s favorite quote of all times. ‘Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.’ ”

Many said “Amen,” in chorus.

Noeline spoke next. Vanna followed and read a few lines fromPride and Prejudice.Tegan regained the microphone, looking more composed than she had at first—maybe she was conquering her stage fright—and said if any would like to share stories about Marigold, now was the time.

Two hours later, after sixteen speeches from guests, a heartfelt sermon by the pastor, and one rousing chorus of “Danny Boy”—Marigold’s all-time favorite song—the memorial disbanded. There wasn’t a dry eye in the bookshop.

Later, after cleaning up, I was on my way out the door with Tegan when Vanna stopped us.

“You know, this was such a success, I think it would be a great idea to have more costume parties related to books at the bookstore. Don’t you?” She was brimming with enthusiasm. “Lillian can do the costumes.”

Heart, be still!Vanna actually had a clever idea?

“Tegan,” Vanna went on, “you’ll pick the book, because you’re the reader in the family. Won’t this be fun? I’m thinking books likeThe Great Gatsby,or—”

“OrThe Thin Man,” Tegan chimed. “OrLord of the Rings.OrMurder on the Orient Express.I love the idea.”

“Allie and I could make food that matches the theme,” Vanna said, applauding in genteel fashion. “Allie, are you in?”

“Yes, I . . .”

Hold the phone!Did Vanna just saywe,as inshe and Iwould make the food together? My head started to spin. No, not possible. We could never work together. I regarded her and saw tears of joy pooling in her eyes. Was she a changed woman? Could we be a team?

“Allie?” Tegan squeezed my arm.

A few days later, Tegan asked me to come with her to Marigold’s house. She, Vanna, and Noeline were going to go through her clothes and household items and give whatever they didn’t want to charity. Vanna’s Mercedes and Noeline’s RAV4 were in the driveway. Tegan pulled up to the curb and parked.

“Vanna is going to be ticked off,” I said as I walked up the porch steps.

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