Page 14 of Murder on the Page

“On it,” Chloe said.

“Marigold! It’s me, Allie.” I cleared the top half of her and saw she was clutchingPride and Prejudicein her arms. “Marigold! Wake up.” There was no rise and fall beneath her V-neck sweater. I pressed my fingers above the chain of her pendant to detect a pulse on her neck, but there wasn’t one. Not even a faint one. “She’s . . .” My throat clogged with emotion. “She’s dead.”

Noeline wailed and began clawing at the remaining books. “Help me get her out from under these. Sis! Wake up!”

“Stop.” I rested a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t. The police will need to photograph the scene.”

“The police?”

“Looks like an accident to me,” Rick said.

I glowered at him. “Are you kidding? She did not pull all of these tomes on top of herself.”

“All I meant was—”

“Maybe she tripped,” Noeline said, cutting Rick off. “Or she had another spell.”

“That doesn’t explain the pile of books,” I argued.

Noeline said, “Teetering, she reached for the edge of the counter.” She mimed the action. “The books toppled.”

“And she smothered,” someone said from behind her.

I doubted lack of oxygen killed Marigold. Her mouth and nose had remained uncovered. I noticed a small bruise no bigger than a quarter on her neck, not far from her right ear, and supposed the heft of the books might have knocked her to the floor and nicked her, making her bang her head. Death by blunt force trauma.

Brushing Marigold’s bangs off her face, I eyed the novel in her hands. Had someone startled her as she was opening the shop? Had she hoped to fend off whoever it was, as Elizabeth Bennet would, with biting remarks? Was the book her shield? I didn’t see her cell phone anywhere, but a legal-looking envelope, the kind with lace ties to secure it, lay facedown near her shoulder. Pinching the upper-left corner, I flipped it over. The front read:Private and Confidential.I peeked inside. Empty. Had Marigold intended to insert something into it, or had her assailant—I was almost certain she’d been attacked—taken the contents?

“Let’s clear the space,” I said, rising to my feet. Like a restaurant manager, a caterer needed to be in command. I could use my big voice when necessary. “Rick, would you lead everyone out of the store?” He interacted with teams of people at ahospital. He’d have the ability to oversee a concerned crowd. “Everyone, please remain outside. The police might want to question you.” Who knew what anyone would remember? Hints to clues, as I’d absorbed over the course of reading mysteries, came from many directions and multiple sources. “Graham, you saw Marigold at six, so I’m sure the police will want to talk to you, too. Stick around.”

Rick squeezed Noeline’s shoulder, whispered, “I’m so sorry,” and he dutifully led the charge outside.

Noeline mewled. I looped an arm around her shoulder as I scanned the shop. The front door had been locked. Did Marigold let her killer inside, or had the killer sneaked in through the stockroom door?

“Mom!” Tegan yelled as she burst into the shop, struggling with Rick, who was trying to hold her at bay. “Let. Me. Go.” She wrenched free and cut across the carpet. “What’s going on? Why are the books on the—” She gagged. “Is that Auntie?”

I blocked her. “Tegan, your aunt is dead.”

“Dead?”

“Don’t move. This is a crime scene.”

“A crime—” Like her mother, Tegan choked back a sob.

Noeline said, “Maybe she was dehydrated and passed out and hit her head.”

“I doubt that’s what happened,” I responded. “Not after the scare she had yesterday.” An empty bottle of water stood on the sales counter. An untouched cup of tea sat beside it, as well as stacks of books that hadn’t tumbled to the floor. The pegboard behind the desk, which held the shop’s computer, was neat and tidy, nothing askew. The screen of the computer swirled with a screensaver of magical books. The wall clock with the phraseSo many books, so little timewas correct as to the hour. “I think she was murdered.”

Tegan gasped. “Why would anyone kill Auntie?” She was wearing the same clothes she’d been wearing last night, meaningshe hadn’t gone home to change between when she’d left my place and now. So where had she been? “Auntie was beloved by all. A stellar member of the community. She didn’t have an evil bone in her body. It makes no sense.”

I’d read enough murder mysteries to know that in the end the murder did make sense, but at first it was hard to piece the clues together. “You need to cancel the tea, Tegan.” My pulse was racing, yet I sounded as calm as a seasoned detective. How was that possible? “Alert the attendees.”

Tegan started toward the sales counter. I held her at bay. “Don’t use the shop’s phone. That’s out of bounds. Go over by the window. Use your cell.”

“I don’t have the complete list of attendees.”

“I do,” Chloe said, and flashed her mobile at Tegan. Tears were pooling in the young woman’s eyes.

I felt them brimming in mine and willed them to stay put. I needed to keep my wits about me.

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