Page 90 of Murder on the Page

She tapped a sheet to the right of the cash register. “This is the list of attendees.”

I perused it and recognized many of the names, like Stella, Lillian, and Piper.

Tegan waltzed from one of the aisles, her arms laden with books.

“Tegan, I really think you should lead the first book club since . . .” I faltered.Since your aunt won’t be able to.“It would be good for you to do confront your fear before the memorial.”

“Nope. You’re taking the helm.” She placed her treasures on the counter and began to sort them by genre.

“But I bake at night.”

“Excuses, excuses. The club lasts two hours. You can make the time. Auntie created book club questions for every book in the shop that didn’t have author-prepared questions and saved them in a file drawer in the office. It’ll be easy-peasy.”

“Zach Armstrong is signed up,” Chloe said. “So is his partner.”

I eyed her curiously. “I didn’t know they read books starring amateur sleuths.”

“Men can surprise you,” Chloe joked.

“Chloe,” Tegan said, tapping a stack of three cookbooks. “These are the other books Vanna requested.”

“Oh, I forgot to mention.” Chloe gently rapped her temple with her knuckles. “She came in earlier to pick up her partial order and said she’d return later.”

Tegan’s mouth curved up in a grin. “Phew.That means I don’t have to see her.” She threw me a sly glance. “You either.”

I didn’t want to admit I was relieved and quietly moved to the pegboard to review Marigold’s instructions for daily duties.

“Vanna was talking up your mother’s new boyfriend,” Chloe said.

“Talking up, as in, she approves of him?” Tegan arched an eyebrow.

“Apparently, he’s been super helpful handing out her business cards to ‘muckety-mucks at the hospital.’ Her words, not mine.” Chloe bound the cookbooks with raffia ribbon and affixed a Post-it note with Vanna’s name on it. “How are you getting along with him?”

Tegan shrugged one shoulder. “I rarely see him. He’s a busy guy. On Friday night, when Allie and I met Mom for dinner, he was at the hospital reading to kids. Today he can’t make church because—”

“He was reading to them at night?” Chloe asked, stacking a pair of romance novels. “That’s odd. Volunteers only read to kids in the afternoon.”

“How do you know?” I asked after landing on the chore of cleaning up the reading nook.

“I entertain the kids there a couple of times a month. It’s my way of giving back to the community, and . . .” She giggled. “And a way to convince myself I don’t want to ever become a mother. Don’t get me wrong. The kids are sweet, but I’m constantly reminded that I don’t have enough patience to repeatedly answer the question ‘Why?’ ”

Tegan exchanged a glance with me. “Rick also said he wasreading to them last Saturday morning. He told my mom Thursday nights and Saturday mornings are his slots.”

“Uh-uh.” Chloe shook her head. “Not possible. Only afternoons,” she repeated.

“Why would he lie?” Tegan asked. “Is he two-timing my mother? Is he lying about his career? Is he not really a bond guy? Maybe he’s a grifter.”

“Tegan,” I cooed, “chill. He must have a good reason.”

“You said he hawked a ring at the pawnshop. I’ll bet he needs the money, and now he’s after my mother’s. He’s a con artist.” Her voice was rising by decibels. “What if he killed Auntie so he could get his hands on the hundred thousand—”

“Tegan, stop!” I barked. “You’re making yourself crazy. Your mother is a sane and sober woman. She’s not stupid. And Rick is not a killer. He’s simply got to account for his—”

“I was convinced the business meeting Helga said Rick had last Saturday morning was actually reading to kids, because they wouldn’t have cared if he’d come rumpled, but it was a lie,” Tegan hissed. “A lie!” With short intakes of air, she tried to calm herself, but couldn’t.

I fetched her a glass of water and shoved it into her hands.

Chloe said, “I thought after you ruled out Piper that Graham Wynn was your main suspect in your aunt’s murder.”

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