Page 61 of Murder on the Page

“Or confronting your sister.”

“That’s a whole other story.”

I knew she wouldn’t budge on the book club decision and moved on. “Tell me about the end-of-day procedure in the shop.”

“We tally receipts and stow them in the safe. I’ll give you the combination.” She ticked off the to-do items on her fingertips. “We roam the aisles to make sure the recommendation tags are hanging in their proper places. One of us examines the bathrooms to make sure they’re clean. We double-check that the doors are locked and the coffee is switched off. And we power-down the main computer.”

I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and started to type the items in the Notes app.

“You don’t need to do that,” Tegan said. “Auntie made a checklist and hung it on the pegboard behind the computer so we don’t mess up. Oh, and you need a roster of our clients and their phone numbers and emails. Chloe made a group of contacts and sent it to me. I’ll forward that to you.” Her voice caught. “You don’t think one of our customers . . .”

“Killed your aunt?” I finished. Honestly, I didn’t know what to believe. I brushed her arm.

“I miss her so much.” She whirled into me and hugged me. Her chest shuddered.

I patted her back. When she was once again calm, I said, “What’s on your agenda for tonight?”

“I invited Dennell to dinner at the B and B. Want to join us? You should get to know her. She’s quite intense, but she’s very gifted. You should see some of the jewelry she makes.”

“I could eat.” I’d skipped lunch. “How’s she doing?”

“She joined AA, and she found an outpatient doctor who will help her with her problem. Fortunately, her business partneris none the wiser. Dennell plans to ask out of their deal in a couple of weeks.”

“That’s great news. Tell me, why haven’t I met her before now?”

“I didn’t keep you two apart on purpose. I guess . . .” Tegan hitched a shoulder. “I guess I didn’t think you’d have much in common. We met at a plasticware party.”

I wrinkled my nose.

“Yeah, you and plastic are not pals. Only glass can hold your precious leftovers.”

I knuckled her arm.

“By the way”—Tegan regarded Chloe and me—“Winston called. He wants to meet so he can console me about Aunt Marigold.”

“What did you say?”

“Bite me.”

I snuffled. “You didn’t.”

“No.” She crossed her arms as if to steady herself.

“What you should have said was, you thought about him today, which reminded you to take out the trash.”

She snickered. “Good one. Actually, I told him to bug off and said I’d reach out when I was good and ready.”

“How’d he take that?”

“Super well.Not.”

For the next few hours, I familiarized myself with all thingsbookshop.When the wall clock above the computer read six p.m., I jangled my keys. “Ready to close up?”

“You bet,” Tegan said. “Chloe, finalize any sales. I’ll tend to the stockroom and restrooms. Allie will see to the book tags.”

Chloe’s customer said cheerily she’d return tomorrow, and the three of us went about our tasks.

At ten past seven, I drove Tegan to the Blue Lantern. A man and woman were entering ahead of us, the woman pausing to admire the pair of brass lanterns that flanked the entryway.

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