“Bev left early?” Tricia asked, taking off her coat and setting it on one of the booth seats.

Angelica nodded. “She wasn’t feeling well. If she has the beginnings of the flu, I don’t want her spreading it to me or Tommy—and especially not to my customers.” She picked up a couple of mustard-stained plates and a glass. “Don’t mind me. I’ll take these dishes in to Tommy and be right with you.” And with that, Angelica backed through the swinging door into the kitchen.

Tricia hung up her coat and moved behind the counter, crouching before the small fridge. But when she opened the door, the tuna plate that was usually waiting for her was nowhere to be seen. She stood.

Angelica reappeared. “What a rotten day. It was dead slow, and then we had a bit of a rush at the end, but not enough to make a difference for this month’s bottom line.” She poured herself a cup of coffee and one for Tricia, too. “So, what’s the latest gossip around town?”

“Um, Ange, there’s no tuna plate for me.”

“Of course not. We’re having tea with Karen Johnson in less than an hour over at Haven’t Got a Clue.”

“At my store? Why?” she asked, irritated.

“Business has been at a standstill, and you’ve got that lovely readers’ nook just sitting there doing nothing.”

“What if I have customers?”

“I’m sure Pixie or Mr. Everett can wait on them while we talk to Karen.”

Tricia’s stomach grumbled in annoyance. “If this shindig is less than an hour away, shouldn’t you be getting ready for it?”

“I need to sit down for five minutes and rest,” Angelica said and slid onto one of the counter stools.

“Why can’t you meet with your Realtor here?”

“Much as I love this place, it isn’t the ambience I want to project when I speak to Karen.”

“Then why don’t you entertain her in your apartment?”

“This is a business meeting. And besides, my place is a mess. There was so much of that messy fingerprint powder all over my bedroom that I ended up sleeping in the living room. That stuff got everywhere. My dry cleaning bill is going to be three or four pages long. Thank goodness Antonio asked one of the ladies on his housekeeping staff if she’d like to earn a few extra bucks. It should be clean before the Cookery closes today.”

It was no good arguing with Angelica. She usually got her way no matter what. Tricia decided not to press it.

“So, have you heard anything new about Betsy’s murder?”

“You didn’t want to talk about it last night, but I had news yesterday. Did you know Christopher was Betsy Dittmeyer’s financial advisor?”

“No, but I’m not surprised. He’s the only one in town,” Angelica said and slipped off one of her three-inch heels, rubbing her foot.

“Yes, but he works for Nigela Ricita Associates.”

“So?”

“So, wouldn’t that be a conflict of interest to take on other clients?”

“I don’t see how,” Angelica said reasonably.

Tricia shrugged and her stomach growled. She wondered if there were any stray potato chips or dill slices hanging around the place, but everything looked tidy. And as usual, Angelica was probably right about her ex. “Christopher told me Betsy was a multimillionaire.”

“Honestly?” Angelica asked, wide-eyed.

Tricia nodded.

“I’m sure he shouldn’t have mentioned that.”

“That’s what I thought. But like Grant Baker, he’s trying to get back in my good graces.”

“I imagine it would take a lot more than that, although I suppose it’s a good start,” Angelica said.

“He said he thought I could keep a secret.”

“Then I guess you just proved him wrong,” Angelica said and sipped her coffee.

“He knew I’d only tell you, and that you wouldn’t tell anyone else.”

“I certainly won’t. But how is this news relevant?”

“Betsy recently changed her beneficiary from her sister to a bunch of charities.”

“So, you think Joelle’s a suspect?”

“Maybe. But she’s not a very big person—at least not since she lost all that weight. Could she have pushed that bookshelf over? And if Betsy had let her in the back door, wouldn’t we have seen her in the shop just before the murder occurred?”

“We were a bit distracted,” Angelica reminded her.

Tricia frowned once again, wondering if she should mention to Angelica that she’d found herself flirting with Christopher. No, she decided, that would only encourage Angelica to try to get them back together and, despite her conflicted feelings toward the man, Tricia didn’t want that. Perhaps she’d flirted just to see if she still appealed to him. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about, so she changed the subject.

“Did you know Betsy had a daughter with some kind of congenital health problem, and that she’d died at a young age?”

“No, I didn’t. She wasn’t one to blab about herself. Perhaps I would have had a bit more patience with her if I’d known.”

Tricia wondered if she should bring up the sore subject of her relationship with their mother, but feared Angelica might have to admit divided loyalties and she didn’t want to argue about it. She’d have to find some way to come to peace with the situation without Angelica’s input.

“Have you called an employment agency to find a replacement for Betsy?” Tricia asked at last.

Angelica eased her foot back into her shoe. “It’s Sunday,” she reminded Tricia. “Besides, out of respect for Betsy, I decided to wait until after the funeral.”

“When is that?”

“I have no idea. I’d better give Baker Funeral Home a call.”

“Betsy’s sister, Joelle, came to visit me yesterday.”

“What for?”

“She wanted to see where Betsy had died, but you’d already closed the Cookery.”

Angelica frowned. “I am not holding tours for people to see the death site—and especially not for Betsy’s relatives.”

“She told me she needed to make funeral arrangements. She doesn’t live in Stoneham, so maybe she’ll move the burial to Milford or Nashua.”

“Either way, I suppose I’d have to go—at least to the funeral parlor,” Angelica said without enthusiasm. “I mean, she did work for the Chamber and I am its president.”

“I keep thinking about Betsy having deep pockets. Why do you think she continued to work after coming into all that money?”

“Maybe she didn’t have anything else to do with her time. I never heard her talk about having any hobbies. She never brought a book to read during her lunch break. And she did not want the Chamber receptionist job to be reduced to a part-time position.”

“Maybe working was the only time she had contact with people,” Tricia suggested, and picked up her cup.

“Betsy never mentioned having any friends. I don’t think she had a pet, either.”

“What a terribly lonely life,” Tricia said.

“You know, I’m very sorry the woman is dead, but it gives me a chance to start fresh with the Chamber. I never did feel that Betsy had any loyalty to me. And I’d better spend some serious time trying to figure out what needs to be done to keep the Chamber going for the next week or so until I can hire someone else.”

“At least you have Frannie as a sounding board. She had the job for over a decade.”

“I hate to do that, but I don’t know where the Chamber stands on something as simple as the reservations for the next breakfast meeting. And there’s the monthly newsletter. Betsy took care of that, too. If nothing else, she was extremely efficient.”

“What an epitaph. Surely she had more going for herself than that.”

“If she did, she kept it to herself,” Angelica admitted.

Tricia pushed her cup away. She didn’t want any more coffee and she didn’t want to talk about Betsy’s death anymore, either. “Did Patty come in for lunch today?”

“Patty?” Angelica asked. “Patty who?”

“You know, Patty Perkins—from Russ Smith’s office.”

“Oh, that Patty. Yes.”

“So what does Russ think about being a daddy?” Tricia asked, eager to know the answer.