Page 39 of Murder on the Page

“To the business at hand,” he went on, opening the folder. “I’ll start at the top. It’s all straightforward. First of all, Marigold leaves her house to Vanna and Tegan.”

“Her house?” Tegan said almost reverently. “But Mom—”

“Sweetheart, these are your aunt’s wishes,” Noeline said. “Go on, Mr. Tannenbaum.”

“If neither of you want to buy the home from the other, it will be sold at fair market value, and the proceeds split evenly.”

Next he outlined the division of the personal property.Marigold stated that Noeline had everything she’d ever need, so the furniture, books, and household items would be divided equally between Vanna and Tegan.

Chloe traipsed in, pushing a food cart that held a pot of coffee, mugs, condiments, napkins, glasses filled with ice water, and the Maids of Honor, which she’d arrayed on a plate. She positioned the cart against the far wall. “If you need anything else—”

“Leave.” Vanna flicked her fingers.

Chloe glowered at her but politely closed the door as she exited.

I proceeded to pour coffee, taking requests for sugar and cream. Tegan passed them around and set the plate of pastries in the middle of the table.

Vanna said, “What do you think you’re doing? Take these away. We don’t want to get jam on any of the documents.”

Tegan threw her the evil eye as she bussed the goodies back to the cart.

“Now, to the matter of her savings accounts and jewelry,” Tannenbaum went on.

“About her jewelry,” I said, wondering again if Marigold might have been carrying a piece in the empty envelope. “Did she store it all—”

“Hush, Allie!” Vanna ordered. “No one gave you permission to talk.”

“Darling, please,” Noeline said.

“Don’t ‘darling’ me, Mother. Someone’s got to take control here or things could get out of hand.”

Noeline drew in a sharp breath. Tegan moaned. I gritted my teeth.

“Proceed,” Vanna said to Tannenbaum.

Before he could, the door to the room opened, and Zach stepped inside. “Good morning.” He looked more formal than I’d ever seen him, in a blazer, shirt, and slacks.

“Detective Armstrong,” Noeline said, “do you know Mr. Tannenbaum?”

“We’ve met,” Zach said. “I’m sorry to meet you again under these circumstances.” He made eye contact with each of us. I couldn’t decide if he was pleased to see me or not. His expression was unreadable.

Maybe he tracked me down to talk about my water bottle theory,I thought hopefully, but quickly revised the notion. No one but the people present knew I was here.

“What brings you in, Detective?” Noeline asked.

“I was summoned.”

“By whom?” Noeline arched an eyebrow.

“By your daughter Vanna.” Zach pulled a white envelope from the inside of his jacket pocket. “She left this letter on my desk, with a note that I’d find her here and to come at once.”

“What’s in the letter?” Noeline asked, her voice crackling with tension.

“As your elder daughter intimated the other day, it is a letter from Marigold to your younger daughter stating that she will inherit a portion of the bookstore.”

“No way!” Tegan’s eyelashes flickered. “I never received any such letter.”

“Oh, but you did,” Vanna said with a bite. “Because I found it at your house between your trash bin and your desk.”

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