Page 97 of Murder on the Page

“Evening, everyone.” Rick strolled in and tossed his briefcase on the desk chair. The breeze the motion stirred up caused the loose paper items on the desk to scatter. “What a successful day I had.” He sidled to Noeline and bussed her cheek.

She blushed. “Not in front of the girls.”

“They’re grown women.” He chuckled. “Certainly, a little public display of affection is allowed. Now, ask me what made today a success.”

Noeline smiled indulgently. “What made—”

“Rick,” Tegan cut in. “I have a question for you first.”

Uh-oh. I knew that tone. Winston had primed the pump. She was feeling her oats and gearing up for a fight. “Tegan,” I cautioned.

She waved me off. “Rick.”

“Fire away,” he said, grinning at Noeline as if he couldn’t wait to hear what her daughter wanted to ask.

“A friend of mine told me about the reading schedule for volunteers at the hospital.” Tegan didn’t identify Chloe. A friend was general enough. “They only read to kids in the afternoon. If I’m doing the math correctly, you couldn’t have been reading to kids on Thursday and Friday nights.”

The color drained from Rick’s cheeks.

“Are you stepping out on my mother?” Tegan asked.

Noeline gasped. “Tegan, take it back!”

“No.” Tegan folded her arms, not willing to budge an inch. She reminded me of a moody teen. I was pretty sure Noeline had seen the defiant pose before.

Rick gave Noeline a sorrowful look and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re right, Tegan. I was not reading to children. I was covering my sorry behind because I was browsing properties and didn’t want your mother to know. As I revealed to you and Allie confidentially the other day when I picked up the books you’d set aside, I want to settle here. I had a full slate of houses to see, so I went house hunting those nights.” He eyed Noeline. “I didn’t want to tell you my plans, sweetheart, until I made a firm decision.”

She reached for his hand and squeezed. “I’m so excited. You’re moving here? For good?”

“Were you doing that a week ago Saturday, too?” Tegan raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Rick gave the type of indulgent smile an adult might give a petulant child. “Yes. Curb appeal matters to me. I told my Realtor I wanted to tour the first set of homes we’d looked at on my own. In the daylight. That way, I could rule things out. Here are the addresses I viewed, if it matters.”

He opened the Notes app on his cell phone and flashed the screen at Tegan. I peered over her shoulder. Indeed, there was a list of over twenty addresses. One was on my street.

Conflict deflected, Tegan convinced me to stay for dinner,and I was glad I did. Helga’s roast lamb was as good as Vanna had promised. Served with a savory rosemary au jus, I could cut it with a fork, and each bite melted in my mouth. The garlic mashed potatoes were a perfect accompaniment. Dessert was a knockout triple-chocolate trifle that Helga proudly said she’d concocted with premade brownies, pudding, and crushed candy bars.

During dinner, Rick regaled us with stories about the houses he liked. He was partial to a Craftsman he’d viewed in Montford, not far from the inn. Noeline knew the area. She said he couldn’t go wrong with that choice. Throughout dinner, she leaned into him, her shoulder brushing his. Occasionally he swept a stray hair off her face and pecked her cheek.

When leaving the inn, stuffed to the gills and not having the energy to venture to Dream Cuisine to bake, I decided I could make all the scones and cupcakes I needed for the morning’s deliveries at home. Darcy zipped to me the moment I entered, his tail lifted in distinct displeasure.

“Sorry,” I said. “If you could read a text message, I would’ve clued you in as to my whereabouts.” I petted his ears. He meowed, his eyes blazing with curiosity. “No, I wasn’t investigating anything. I was with my friend’s family. It was nice to see them enjoying one another in the wake of all the sorrow.”

Even Vanna had contributed to the conversation. At first, her stories had been about her challenging clients, but upon hearing the address of a house on Rick’s list, she warned him to steer clear. The house was owned by a woman who claimed there might be ghosts in it. Rick pooh-poohed her. Noeline ribbed him, telling him he should believe, because she’d had an encounter.

While I mixed my batters, I resumed listening to my audiobook recording ofThe Sign of the Four.By the time I got to Sherlock donninga disguise to track down theAuroralaunch, all the prep work was done. I would awake early to bake everything. Yawning, I clicked off the story and dragged myself into bed.

At four a.m., I rose, pulled on a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved blue Henley shirt, and started baking and icing.

At six, I received a text message from Tegan. Chloe wanted our two cents about the decorations for the memorial. The printer could have them done by Friday, but only if we delivered our decisions today, Monday.

After agreeing to swing by, I decided it might be a long day and Darcy should accompany me. He would do well at the bookshop, and as long as I put his kitty crate on the floor in front of the passenger seat, so none of his hair would contaminate my wares, I could take him on all my deliveries.

I swapped out my now-covered-in-flour Henley for a white blouse, spruced up my hair and makeup, and hurried to the van. It took no time at all to tootle around town. Tourists didn’t come out in droves on Mondays, and many businesses had gone to a four-day workweek, with Mondays as the day to work remotely, if possible. I delivered five dozen cupcakes to Perfect Brew, two dozen scones to Ragamuffin, three cheese-filled coffee cakes to Big Mama’s Diner, and an extra-large chocolate fudge cake to Legal Eagles. It was the boss’s birthday.

When I arrived at Feast for the Eyes, some school-aged kids, all under the age of seven, were roaming the children’s aisle with their mother, and a pair of teenaged boys were studying the YA literature. One was holding the latest Neil Gaiman novel.

“We’ve been busier than all get-out with kids and teens today,” Tegan said. “It’s a town-wide teacher conference day so educators can meet with parents, one on one.” She took Darcy’s kitty crate from me, pressed her nose to the window on the crate, and cooed hello. She led me to the office andswitched on the overhead lights. They flickered. “Grr.That’s been going on all morning. I’ll need to hire an electrician.” She placed Darcy’s crate on the desk and twisted the rod for the blinds to provide a view of the main shop. “Darcy, will you be a good boy and stay in here? I don’t want any complaints from those who might not be cat people.” He meowed his assent, and Tegan beamed. “I knew you’d get it, you handsome boy.” She released him, and he leaped to the top of the bookshelf abutting the far wall and instantly curled into a ball for a snooze.

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