Free Murder on the Half Shelf by Lorna Barrett Page A

and kiss her. But then he turned, headed for the door, and shut it behind him without looking back.
    Tricia just stood there, staring at the empty doorway for a long moment before she heard a stifled, “Ahem.”
    She looked to her right to see Mr. Everett with a customer and wondered how long they’d been standing there. “Would you like to ring this up, Ms. Miles?”
    Tricia smiled. “I’d be delighted.”
    The customer moved to stand before the cash desk, setting her books on the glass, and Mr. Everett turned away. “Could you bring out the stepladder, Mr. E? We’re going to do a little switcheroo with the author photos.”
    He nodded. “As you wish, Ms. Miles.”
    Tricia rang up the sale, adding a couple of author bookmarks and the store’s newsletter to the shopping bag. She’d take down Harry’s portrait and shuffle the others forward, leaving a gap at the far end of the wall. She’d have to hit the stock photography websites to see if she could find something to fill in the empty space.
    She’d miss seeing Harry’s face looking down at her.

EIGHT
    Although it was almost April, Haven’t Got a Clue’s winter hours were still in effect and Mr. Everett was just zipping his jacket to leave for the day when the shop door opened. Thankfully, it wasn’t a customer—Tricia hated to turn anyone away at the end of the day—it was only Angelica, dressed to the nines.
    “My, don’t you look pretty tonight,” Mr. Everett said in greeting.
    “Why thank you, kind sir,” Angelica practically purred.
    Mr. Everett nodded and headed for the door. “Good night, ladies. I’ll see you in the morning, Ms. Miles.”
    “Good night,” Tricia called after him.
    “So, you and Bob are going out tonight? I was hoping we could have dinner together.”
    “Sorry, no can do,” Angelica said brightly. “Michele Fowler and I are going out to dinner to discuss business.”
    Tricia and Angelica had met Michele the previous summer when she’d been the owner of an upscale art gallery. Thanks to the economy that refused to improve, that business had folded. But, as expected, Michele had rebounded.
    “That woman could talk to whales under the ocean—and she has far more experience in the restaurant trade than you do. So what could you possibly have to talk about?” Tricia asked.
    Angelica straightened her tan leather gloves, which perfectly complemented her camel’s-hair coat. “She wants to pick my brain about how to best get along in such a small town.”
    “Like you’re an expert?” Tricia asked. “You’ve lived here all of two and a half years.”
    “Which is plenty of time for me to have learned the ropes.” She offered a conciliatory smile. “Why don’t you come along with us—in fact, that’s why I stopped by.”
    Tricia frowned. “What? And sit there all night just waiting for an opening to ask you to pass the pepper and salt? I’d never get a word in edgewise.”
    “Why, Tricia, I do believe you’re jealous that Michele and I are friends,” Angelica said with glee.
    “Of course not.”
That
was a bald-faced lie. Good thing she didn’t have her hand on a stack of Bibles.
    “Oh, yes you are. Every time I mention Michele’s name, your eyes get all squinty and you seem to wince.”
    “I think she’s a lovely person, and she’s extremely lucky to have a friend like you.”
    Angelica positively preened. “Yes, she is—on both counts. We always have such fun when we’re together. I haven’t had a close girlfriend to confide in for ages.”
    “What am I, chopped liver?” Tricia asked.
    “You’re my sister. It’s different,” Angelica said with a dismissing wave of her hand.
    Tricia couldn’t help but feel hurt. During her entire childhood Angelica had shut Tricia out of her life. It had takenthem forty years to become friends, and now this larger-than-life woman was spoiling the closeness they had shared for the past two-plus years.
    Angelica seemed oblivious to her distress. “I was