Page 40 of Murder on the Page

“What were you doing rooting around my things?”

“I didn’t believe you when you said Auntie never sent you the letter. I saw it with my own two eyes in her home office. And it was stamped. I knew she must have sent it, and, voilà, she did.”

“I . . . I . . .” Tegan sputtered. “You planted it.”

“I did no such thing.”

“You must have. You’re a . . . a . . .”

“Tegan, chill.” I reached over and patted my pal’s arm. “Take a breath.” I regarded her half sister. “Vanna, was theletter opened or was it sealed?” She didn’t respond. “Is it possible it fell to the floor and Tegan never saw it?”

Vanna squirmed.

Zach cocked his head. “Ms. Harding, did you open this without your sister’s permission?”

“I knew what it was,” Vanna said in her defense.

Noeline clicked her tongue in disapproval.

“This is nuts,” Tegan said. “I did not kill Auntie to inherit the bookshop. Detective”—she pushed away from the table and scrambled to her feet—“I’m telling the truth. I never read that letter. Never even saw it. And Auntie never said anything to me.Ever.”

Vanna scoffed.

Tannenbaum said, “Shall I continue?”

“Yes,” Noeline said.

“No!” Tegan shouted. “I want to know when you broke into my house, Vanna.”

“Hello?” Chloe pushed the door open, knocking as she did. “I hate to intrude, but, Tegan, you have a visitor.”

“Who?”she asked rather sharply, and immediately blanched. “Sorry, Chloe.”

“That’s okay. It’s—”

“It’s me.” A frizzy-haired redheaded woman with tired eyes peeped past Chloe. “You asked me to meet you at noon.” She had a haunting whiskey voice. “But I have to get to work, and I wondered if you could—” She stopped short, suddenly realizing the room was occupied. Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment. “Oh, gosh. I’ll . . .” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. The sleeve of her green sweater slid up her arm revealing multiple bangles. “I’ll wait out here.”

“No, Dennell, wait,” Tegan said. “Detective, could my friend and I speak with you privately?”

“Now?” Vanna asked. “We’re in a meeting.”

“Dennell is my alibi for Saturday morning,” Tegan said.

“Let’s hear it.” Vanna folded her arms.

“What she has to say is private and not to be shared with a room full of strangers.” Tegan eyed Zach. “Please, Detective. Allie, you come, too. It’ll take three minutes. No more.”

Tegan ushered Dennell into the stockroom. Zach and I followed.

Standing there, I eyed the knob and deadbolt on the exit door and noted, as I’d remembered, that two keys would have been required to enter from the alley. Did everyone who had keys to the shop have the two, or only a copy of the one to the front door? Was that relevant?

“This is what went down,” Tegan said. “Dennell Watkins and her partner make high-end arty jewelry. They sell it online.”

Zach stared at Dennell. She began chewing the thumbnail on her left hand. Her other fingers looked raw from similar attacks.

“Her business partner can be very prickly,” Tegan went on. “They used to be best friends, but things have gotten sticky. It’s not easy to run a business.”

I eagle-eyed Tegan, mentally urging her to get to the point, or Vanna was going to blow a gasket.

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