Page 76 of Murder on the Page

At dusk, the Brewery was hopping with activity. I perched at the bar and slung my coat onto the back of the swivel chair. Katrina and a male bartender I’d never met were on duty. She sashayed to me, and I gave her my order.

“Anything to drink while you wait?” she asked.

I requested an Audrey Hopburn beer and paid up front, adding a hefty tip.

Lickety-split, she placed my beer on a napkin on the bar. “Here you go.”

“Nice bracelet.” Today’s beauty was handsomely made with jasper beads and a turquoise centerpiece.

“Like it?” She tapped her finger on the stone. “The seller said the combo is to promote ultimate healing and encourage calm and balance. Plus it’s supposed to make me feel like a goddess.”

“And does it?”

“I’m crossing my fingers. I’ll put in your order now.”

How could I get her to talk about the secret she wanted Marigold to keep?

While working on a conversation starter, I swung my chair around so I could observe the crowd. I spotted Lillian’s friend, Yvonne, sitting with a trio of women and two men, one older, one younger. Yvonne looked fresh-faced and natural. The three women were wearing a lot of makeup, not the typical style in Bramblewood. I decided they were actresses in the upcoming musical and had come from a dress rehearsal. The younger man had a surly expression and longish hair that fell over the collar of his leather jacket. He looked familiar, but I couldn’t place him. Repeatedly he checked his watch. The silver-haired man was regaling the others with a story.

From the far end of the bar, Katrina signaled my order was being prepared, then she began to wipe down the counter with a wet towel. Suddenly the surly man appeared and hissed her name.

Katrina jolted. The half of her face that I could see blazed with anger. “What d’you want, Upton?”

Upton.Of course. Her photographer ex-boyfriend. I’d seen his face in the photos when I’d researched Katrina online.

He pulled a manila envelope partway out of his jacket,whispered something I couldn’t make out, and snickered. With the speed of a viper, Katrina flicked him with the towel. The distraction gave her an opening to snatch the envelope.

“Don’t get cocky, babe. I’ve got more.” Cackling, Upton swaggered to the theater group.

More what?I wondered.

Katrina pivoted, giving me a full glimpse of her face. Tears were pooling in her eyes. Her chin was trembling. She said something to her fellow bartender, ducked under the hatch, and raced through the saloon-style doors into the kitchen. The doors swung shut with aswoosh-clack.

Call me crazy, but something was not right, and I intended to find out what was up. Was her ex trying to buy his way back into her life, or had he involved her in some kind of nefarious scheme? Did whatever was in the envelope she’d seized have to do with her secret? Was I correct earlier when I’d guessed Katrina could use an influx of cash?

Katrina’s coworker Wallis overheard Katrina warn Marigold,If anyone finds out, I’ll know it was you who told them.Did Marigold figure out what angle this Upton jerk was working? I could see her taking the same tack she’d often employed with me and Tegan, giving advice and being the voice of reason, telling Katrina the guy wasn’t worth it and to get out while she could. I could also imagine Katrina resenting Marigold’s counsel, but would she have killed her to keep her from meddling?

Pretending to need my takeout in a hurry, I pressed through the swinging doors into the kitchen. I spied Katrina exiting out the rear entrance. The sous chef, who knew me because she also worked at one of the cafés I supplied with baked goods, said, “Allie, your dinner’s up next.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out there with Katrina.” I hooked my thumb.

When I stepped outside, I regretted having left my coat on the chair. Cool breath billowed from my mouth in puffs.

Katrina was pacing, muttering to herself, an unsmoked cigarette in one hand. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hi, Katrina,” I said. I didn’t have a match. I didn’t offer a light. “I hope you don’t mind sharing your space with me. I needed some fresh air. Long day. Lots of baking.” I was prattling, but figured if I talked up a storm, I could persuade her to do the same. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She tossed the unlit cigarette on the ground and jammed it with her heel.

“You sort of, um, ran out after that guy—”

“I don’t want to chitchat. Your dinner should be up. Go away.”

“Is he your ex-boyfriend?” I asked, knowing he was.

She swiped her pinkies beneath both eyes to mop away tears.

I dared to proceed. “You and Marigold argued. Was it about him?”

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