Page 43 of Murder on the Page

“Ms. Catt, Marigold treasured you as a friend and fellow booklover,” Tannenbaum went on, nonplussed. “She wrote, and I quote, ‘Allie Catt questioned me, challenged me, and drove me to read outside my comfort zone. I hope that becoming part owner of the bookshop she loves so much will bring her great joy.’ ”

Tegan grasped my hand and squeezed. “Partners.”

Vanna jumped to her feet. “This is ridiculous! You killed her, Allie. Admit it!”

“What?” I barked, my blood seething. “You’re nuts!”

“She did it.” Vanna aimed a finger at me.

Noeline said, “Vanna, hush.”

“No, Mother, Auntie was out of her mind. Obviously, she told Allie what she’d written in her will, and Allie took the bull by the horns and—”

I launched to a stand, one fist raised.

Vanna went silent and folded her arms. Her nostrils flared.

It took all my willpower not to blurt a comeback, such asWere you born this stupid or did you take lessons?

“Allie, please sit,” Noeline said softly.

Rolling the tension from my shoulders, I complied and muttered, “I loved your aunt, Vanna.”

She made a dismissive sound—no apology—and resumed her seat.

“Moving on,” Tannenbaum said in an effort to rein in the volatile proceedings. “Regarding the cash on hand, Marigold left one hundred thousand dollars to the Bramblewood Community Theater Foundation.”

“Whoa, hold on!” Vanna thrust her hand into the air. “That’s a lot of money. What if someone who works for the foundation killed her so the funds would get to them sooner rather than later?”

“Vanna!” Noeline scolded. “What a horrid thing to say. Those people adored your aunt. Mind your tongue.”

Tannenbaum turned to a previous page. “Whatever cash remains will be equally divided between Vanna and Tegan.”

“Well, at least you didn’t get any money, Allie,” Vanna said nastily.

Tannenbaum closed the document and laid it on the table. “Thus ends the reading of the will of Marigold Markel.” He folded his hands. “I’ve arranged with Ms. Ivey, the manager at Bramblewood Savings and Loan, to review all the assets your aunt held. Here is her card.” He handed it to Noeline.

Vanna plucked it out of her mother’s hand and took a snapshot with her cell phone.

“If you need anything further, do not hesitate to call.” Tannenbaum returned items to his briefcase, nodded to Noeline, Tegan, and me, but he avoided making eye contact with Vanna.

After he exited, Vanna gave her mother the business card, announced that she would be in charge of securing a Realtor to appraise the place, and added that she didn’t need a house. Therefore, they would sell it. I wondered how Tegan felt about that. With a divorce imminent, she might want to keep it. Would whatever cash Marigold had bequeathed her be enough to buy out Vanna?

“You handle the bank, Tegan,” Vanna said. “Give me a report.”

“Oh, now you trust me?” Tegan asked, sarcasm oozing out of her.

“If you’re innocent, you’re innocent. It’s water under the bridge. Forgive me for implying that anything improper occurred.”

Tegan shimmied her disgust.

“Regarding the bookshop,” Vanna continued, “honestly, Auntie was right. I don’t give a darn about it. It’s yours and Allie’s.” She uttered my name as though it was a curse word. “You two can bury yourself with work, while I continue to thrive as the premier caterer in town.” She threw the last comment in my direction.

I didn’t take the bait. I smiled sweetly at her. As a girl, I’d had years of practice responding to bullies. They’d taunted me about my looks and how old my parents were.

Before Noeline could caution her eldest daughter to cease and desist, Vanna paraded out the door.

“Partners,” Tegan said. “We’re going to be partners.”

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