Page 66 of Murder on the Page

“Before digging into him, I was looking into Rick,” Tegan said.

“Why?”

“To protect my mom. He doesn’t have a social media footprint.”

“Lots of people don’t.”

“Sure, but get this. My friend at the hospital—she’s the one I help out at the blood bank—doesn’t have a clue who he is.”

“Being a financial consultant, he probably doesn’t mingle with the regular staff. Funny you should mention him, though. I saw him at the pawnshop this morning.” I told her what J.J. said, that Rick was trying to clean the slate so he could start fresh with someone new, probably Noeline. “Between you and me, I think Rick might be a decent guy.”

“If you say so.”

I patted her shoulder. “Let’s leave it for now and handle the customers. You want to rack up a ton of sales, don’t you? Tell me what to do.”

“Actually, we have some orders to gather and tag. I printed the list. It’s sitting by the computer in the showroom.”

“On it.” I fetched the box of cookies, returned to the main shop, and placed it on the counter. “Chloe, I brought cookies. Enough for everyone.”

“Bless you,” Chloe said.

While she and each of the customers partook, I nabbed thelist of books Tegan had printed and roamed the store to pull them. I returned with an armload and began to tag them. Three books for Lillian, all pertaining to costuming. Two YA novels for the septuagenarian who owned Mosaic. She had adorable teen granddaughters. One thriller by Harlan Coben for Zach’s partner. A theater-themed mystery for Evelyn Evers titledA Fatal Finale,which took place at the cusp of the twentieth century in Manhattan. I’d read it a couple of years ago and had delighted in the intrigue. Two books for Rick O’Sheedy, a thriller and a Deputy Donut Mystery with the cute name,Survival of the Fritters.The latter seemed totally out of character for him.

The door to the shop opened and, to my surprise, Rick entered. Noeline wasn’t with him.

Tegan met him halfway. “Hi, Rick. Lunch break?”

“No lunch today. I’m in and out to get my books and then off to meetings.”

“Good timing,” I said, joining them. “I pulled the titles moments ago. I noticed you set aside a cozy mystery. For you?”

“What’s a cozy mystery?”

I chuckled. “Yeah, I thought it might be for Noeline.” She and I had similar reading tastes. “It’s a mystery that most often doesn’t have bad language. There’s rarely any sex. And usually the murder occurs off the page.”

He grinned. “That sounds perfect for her. She said someone recommended the donut mysteries. She loves donuts.”

“Well, she won’t be disappointed. The series is wonderful, with recipes, to boot. She can suggest Helga make some of them.” I fetched the books I’d pulled, slotted them into a Feast for the Eyes gift bag, and handed the bag to him. “By the way, I saw you at Fair Exchange this morning. You appeared to be in a hurry, so I didn’t call out to you.”

“Were you spying on me?”

“No, I—”

“Relax. I’m just joshing you.” The corners of his mouth curved up. “This is a small town. Everywhere I go I’m seeing people I’ve met.”

I breathed easier. I didn’t want him to think I was nosey. Curious, perhaps. Interested, definitely. But not a snoop. “I happened to be heading to the shop myself because I bought this there.” I fingered my necklace. “And I wondered whether J.J.—he’s the owner—might know the best jeweler for cleaning something like it.”

“Ahh.”Rick nodded, accepting my explanation.

“J.J. is quite a talker, isn’t he?”

“Interrogator, you mean. The police should hire him. Better yet, the FBI.” Rick winked. “If I’d stayed any longer, I’m pretty sure I would have revealed my entire life story.”

I laughed.

“You revealed enough,” Tegan blurted. “He told Allie you were married before.”

“Did he?”

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