Page 24 of Murder on the Page

“This was Auntie’s baby,” Tegan went on. “She was the glue that held it all together. She did the heavy lifting.”

I opened the seal on the box and flipped the lid. “She would want you to press on.”

“But what if I’m terrible at it? What if it all unravels?” Tegan removed a scone and called, “Chloe, bring napkins when you come!”

“What did you need to talk to me about?” I asked. “It sounded urgent.”

“I really like your idea of having a memorial tea for Auntie. She would be so pleased.”

I gawked at her. “That’s it? You couldn’t have said as much over the phone? I’d hoped the police had given you some news. Perhaps a hint as to the killer’s identity.”

“No. Nothing. I . . . I needed to see your cheery face.”

I was pretty sure my face wasn’t remotely cheery. I mustered a weak smile.

“Did I hear you say we’re having a memorial tea?” Chloe asked, putting a tray prepared with three cups of coffee on the counter. “That’s a good idea. Tea is so soothing.” Though her fitted dress was chic, black was not a good color for her. Retro styles in shades of red were her usual go-to choices. “Cream and one sugar for you, Allie.”

“Thanks.”

Tegan placed her scone on a napkin and pushed it aside. “Allie suggested we make the tea a tribute to my aunt by focusing it onPride and Prejudice.We’ll serve foods from the Regency Era, like pies and tarts and assorted scones. Allie will cater it.”

“Will you serve white soup?” Chloe asked.

“Yes.” I’d never made white soup, but I’d always wanted to try. “I think I’ll pass on making Scotch collops.” They were akin to veal scallopini and too heavy for an afternoon tea. “Poached salmon might be a better fit.”

Tegan’s eyes brimmed with tears. “We’d like everyone to dress in costume. We’re going to ask Lillian to facilitate that.”

Chloe said, “I can just imagine the gown your aunt would have worn. All lace and ribbons. And she’d have pinned on that gorgeous brooch. The one with all the diamonds.” She fluttered her fingers. “Super glitzy.”

“I briefly mentioned the idea to Mom last night,” Tegan said. “She’ll send out invitations. Auntie had tons of friends. They’ll all want to come. Money is no object.”

The notion of money made me wonder again about who would be the executor of Marigold’s estate. It also made me recall Zach saying her wallet was empty. She’d loathed using a credit card. She’d invariably had cash on hand. How much had she been carrying? When had she last withdrawn money from the bank? Would there be an accounting, so the police might guess how much had been stolen? I paused as a new thought occurred to me. What if Marigold had filled thePrivate and Confidentialenvelope with the shop’s weekly earnings with the intention of going to the bank to deposit it, but the thief—the killer—stole it?

I explained my theory about the wallet and envelope to Tegan and Chloe.

Tegan said, “The week’s take was not in the envelope. I made the deposit Friday, after Auntie’s fainting spell. Do you know what was in the envelope, Chloe?”

“Nope. I saw it on the counter the night before she—” She choked back a gasp.

“Died.” I gave her a supportive look. “We’re going to have to get used to saying the word.”

Chloe bobbed her head. “I didn’t think to ask her what was in it.” She looked heartsick that she hadn’t. “What if it was a secret dossier?”

Tegan scoffed. “Are you suggesting Auntie worked for the government?”

“No. But what if—”

“You read too many spy novels.”

Chloe hitched a shoulder. “What’s not to love about Jason Bourne?”

“His lack of a memory, for one,” Tegan quipped. “Although I’d like to lose all my memories of my soon-to-be ex.”

“Your what?” Chloe squealed.

Tegan filled her in. “As for what Auntie had in her wallet, I don’t have a clue.”

“It’s probably not vital to the investigation,” I said.

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