“You had to go nosing around, didn’t you?”

Tricia’s stomach tightened as she swiveled her stool to face him. “Are you speaking to me?”

“Who else?” Bob demanded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you leave the pub earlier with a big brown envelope. What was inside it?”

Tricia’s heart skipped a beat. Two people were now watching her every move. “That’s none of your business.”

“I saw you go to NRA Realty,” Bob continued.

Oh, no.

“You know about the cemetery.”

Tricia swallowed but said nothing.

“If anyone else finds out, the sale won’t go through.”

“What’s he talking about?” Christopher asked.

Tricia ignored his question and spoke to Bob. “Did you also watch me go to the police station?”

Bob nodded, his expression grave. He unbuttoned his green sports jacket and pulled out a snub-nosed revolver from the waistband of his pants.

“Bob!” Tricia squealed.

“Hey,” Christopher protested.

“Get up!” Bob ordered Tricia, waving the gun.

“Bob, what on earth do you think you’re doing?” came Angelica’s voice as she pushed through the swinging door from the kitchen, holding the plate with Christopher’s sandwich.

“Oh my God,” Ginny called, sounding frightened.

“Everybody, on your feet,” Bob ordered, again waving the gun around for emphasis.

“What are you going to do? Rob the place?” Christopher asked as he rose from his stool, his hands raised.

“Take whatever you want from the till and go,” Angelica said.

Bob shook his head, his smile wolfish. “Oh, no. That would be too easy.”

“Well, what do you want?” Angelica demanded.

“You. I want you.”

“Don’t you mean me?” Tricia said. “After all, it’s me you want to buy your building.”

Bob shook his head. “It’s too late for that now.”

“Be reasonable, Bob,” Russ said as he stood protectively in front of Nikki. Thanks to her burgeoning belly, it was going to take some time to extricate her from the tight booth, and it didn’t look like Russ had any intention of doing that.

“I’ll go along with whatever you say, Bob, just leave everyone else alone,” Tricia said, hoping to spare her friends, but Bob shook his head.

“Oh, no. I’m not leaving any witnesses.”

Tricia’s mouth went dry. She took a breath. “You haven’t got enough bullets in that gun to take us all out.”

“Oh, yeah? How would you know?”

“Because I read mysteries, and I know a gun like that only holds six bullets,” Tricia said. And she hoped to heaven he was bluffing about it even being loaded.

“I only see six people,” Bob said, his voice level.

Stay in the kitchen, Pixie, Tricia thought.

Bob motioned for Angelica to step forward, but before she could, Christopher lunged in front of her and the gun exploded.

Christopher shoved Bob backward, and Ginny cracked him over the head with one of the café’s heavy china plates, the remnants of her lunch flying into the air. Bob fell and the gun exploded again.

Tricia jumped forward as the two men hit the floor in a tangle of arms and legs.

“Christopher!” she hollered, but instead of going to him, she saw that, although Bob was groggy, he still held the gun in his hand. She kicked it several times until he let go, and it skittered across the tile. Bob groaned, but Christopher hadn’t moved.

Suddenly, the room seemed to be teeming with people. Angelica and Russ hauled Christopher’s dead weight off Bob. They rolled him over onto his back, and his chest, awash in scarlet, heaved as he tried to catch his breath. Russ turned his attention to Bob as Ginny did a fast waddle around them heading for the lunch counter, while in the background Tricia could hear Nikki shouting into her cell phone.

“Christopher!” Tricia practically screamed as she fell on her knees beside him, grabbing his left hand in her own.

Angelica was on her feet again, helping Russ shove a dazed Bob onto the seat Ginny had vacated only seconds before. “Sit on him. Don’t let him up!” Russ ordered, and Angelica practically jumped onto Bob’s back. Russ handed her the plate that Ginny had hit Bob with. “Use this again if you have to.”

She nodded, looking pale and scared.

Tricia turned her attention back to Christopher. His eyes fluttered open and he grimaced in pain. “Don’t move,” she told him, feeling more frightened than when she’d faced the fire in her shop and had desperately tried to save Miss Marple.

“Nobody . . . nobody ever warned me how much . . . how much it hurts to get shot.”

“Don’t talk,” Tricia said, and placed the index finger of her free hand across his dry lips.

Russ took the wad of clean dishrags Ginny handed him and pressed them against the seeping wound on Christopher’s chest. “Did anyone see what happened to Pixie?”

“She went out the back to get help,” Angelica said.

Christopher’s hand tightened around Tricia’s, and he stared into her eyes. She had always loved his mesmerizing green eyes. “I want you to promise me something,” he said, his speech breathy.

“Anything, anything at all,” Tricia said.

“That after this is all over you’ll marry me again.”

“You’re not going to die,” Tricia said, hoping with all her heart that she was right.

“I know it . . . that’s why I want you to promise me. If you do, then I know I’ll be okay, because I already told you . . . we are destined to be together for all time.”

Tricia shot a look over her shoulder at Angelica, who was nodding vigorously. She looked back down at Christopher, who was deathly pale.

“Y-yes. Of course, anything you say.” The wad of dishrags beneath Russ’s fingers was sodden.

Christopher closed his eyes and a faint smile crossed his lips. “Good . . . good. You can . . . go back . . . to . . . wearing . . . your . . . engagement . . . ring.”

Tricia looked down at their clasped hands. Christopher was wearing his wedding band once again.

“Oh my God,” Ginny cried, “my water just broke.” She stumbled backward and sat down on one of the stools.

Nikki was still on the phone but no longer shouting. “Yes, he’s subdued. Please, please hurry!”

The café door burst open, and two of Stoneham’s finest darted inside, their service revolvers drawn. “Nobody move!” Hanson shouted.

“Put those things away,” Angelica ordered. “I’m sitting on the jerk you want.” She struggled to her feet. “Get him out of here!”

They hauled a dazed Bob out of the booth and hustled him out the door. Chief Baker suddenly appeared.

“Get the paramedics,” Tricia implored, and Baker pivoted, talking into the microphone attached to his uniform blouse.

“Tricia, he’s not breathing,” Russ said gently.

“We’ve got to do CPR,” Tricia cried.

“Tricia, he’s gone,” Russ said, his voice cracking with emotion.

Tricia started down at Christopher, choking back a sob.

Suddenly Angelica was there at Tricia’s side. “You can let go now,” she said gently.

Tricia stared at her, not comprehending.

Angelica stared down at Tricia’s hands tightly clasping Christopher’s. Tricia’s gaze followed. Wonderful memories from years gone by suddenly bubbled up. Their first date. The first time they made love. Their wedding day. At that moment, she couldn’t even remember why they had ever parted. All she remembered was the love.

Angelica placed a hand on Tricia’s. “Let go,” she said again.

Silent tears trickled down Tricia’s cheeks, but she allowed Angelica to disentangle her fingers from Christopher’s and pull her onto her feet.

“Ginny, will you be okay for a few minutes?” Angelica asked, her voice calm.

Ginny nodded, wiping tears that cascaded down her cheeks.

Angelica turned back to Tricia, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and led her toward the door. Outside, the sidewalk was filled with people. Tricia kept her head down as Angelica pushed their way through the crowd and past the police.