Page 26 of Murder on the Page

“No way.” Chloe sniffed.

“I don’t buy it, either,” I said.

“Oh, Tegan,” Chloe continued, “I almost forgot to tell you. Piper stopped by earlier, before you arrived. She wanted consoling. She’s a sensitive soul, isn’t she? She was sobbing as if Marigold was her best friend and asked to see where she died. It was sort of macabre.”

Tegan said, “It’s understandable. She worked with Marigold on charitable projects.”

The front door opened and Noeline slogged in. Her face was pinched, her eyes swollen from crying. She crossed to where we were, shrugged out of her coat, slung it on the other ladder-back chair, and slumped onto the seat. The ends of the bow on her black silk blouse wafted as she did. She pulled her black skirt down over her knees.

I stewed for a moment. Tegan and Chloe had dressed in black, as well. Should I have donned a black shirt with my black jeans, or was it okay to wear navy when mourning?

“Mom.” Tegan hurried to her. “Where are you off to?”

“Church. You left so early, I was hoping I’d find you here. Do you want to go with me?”

“Where’s Rick?” Tegan asked.

“He has a business meeting.”

On a Sunday?I wondered, but silenced my suspicious mind. Hospitals operated 24/7. Their financial gurus probably kept the same hours.

“Yes, I’ll go with you,” Tegan said. “We can say a prayer for Auntie. Chloe, will you hold down the fort and start cleaning the books? Keep the Closed sign in place. We’re not open today, out of respect.”

Chloe saluted.

“I’ll stick around and help with the books,” I said.

“Thanks.” Tegan threw her arms around me. “I appreciate you more than you know.”

A minute after Noeline left with Tegan, Lillian opened the front door while rapping on the frame. “May I come in?”

“We’re closed,” Chloe said.

“Yes, I know, but I saw you milling about. I’m not here to purchase anything.”

“Lock the door after you,” Chloe said.

Lillian did and removed her trench coat, revealing a sparkly sweater dress. She never wore casual clothes to work. She claimed she had to present a vibrant image to her customers. “I can’t believe Marigold’s gone.” She draped her coat over one arm and ambled toward the sales counter, dragging a fingertip fondly over the books on the endcaps as she went.

“Neither can we.” Chloe’s voice cracked.

“The police stuck around all day yesterday,” Lillian said. “They were in and out of the bookshop. Wandering in the alley. Doors opening and slamming. They must have put out twenty of those yellow thingies that mark evidence.”

Had they found anything worth preserving? Or did they tag everything so they could later rule out stuff that wasinconsequential ? Other than what I read in books or saw on film, I had no idea what the police did. Would Zach educate me?

“People were pausing to peer inside the shop all day, too,” Lillian went on. “The police tape kept them off the sidewalk, but they stopped and gawked.” She hung her coat on a ladder-back chair, as Noeline had. “Ooh,Allie, did you bring the scones?”

“Help yourself.”

She selected one, took a bite, and let out a delighted sigh.

Chloe hitched her chin and mouthed,Ask her.

“Lillian,” I said, “we’d like to have a memorial tea for Marigold featuring her favorite book.”

“Pride and Prejudice,”Lillian chimed. “What a great idea. I can’t tell you how many times she and I discussed that story.”

I told her about the menu that was cycling through my head, which would include soup, tarts, salmon, and tea sandwiches.

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