Free Murder on the Half Shelf by Lorna Barrett Page B

wondering, would you be a dear and let Sarge out this evening?” Ah, the
real
reason for her visit. “I hate to think of the poor little guy all alone with his tiny legs crossed. Better yet, I could bring him to your apartment and—”
    “You know Sarge and Miss Marple don’t get along. It’s not fair for me to allow Sarge into the apartment to torment her.”
    “They’d get along fabulously if you’d only let them get acquainted,” Angelica insisted.
    Tricia held up a hand. “We’re not going to talk about this again. But I
will
let Sarge out. I won’t see an animal suffer because its mistress is negligent or cruel.”
    “I’m going out to dinner, not on a death march,” Angelica said and glanced at the clock. “Oh, I’m late.”
    “Where are you meeting Michele?”
    “I’m picking her up in Milford. Did you know she got an apartment there?”
    “Yes, I seem to remember you telling me that before.” About twenty times before.
    “We’re going to try a new family restaurant in Merrimack.”
    “That doesn’t sound like your style.”
    “She’s going to hire someone to work the grill at the Dog-Eared Page.”
    “It doesn’t even open for another month.”
    “You can’t leave these things until the last minute.” She wiggled her fingers and started for the door.
    “When will Sarge need to go out?” Tricia called after her.
    “I let him out about an hour ago. He should be good until eight or nine. Although eight is better for my carpets. Ciao!” Angelica said, and pulled the door closed behind her.
    A disgruntled “
Yow!
” sounded from behind the shelf on the wall where Miss Marple liked to perch. Other than that,the store was silent. Tricia was glad the clock on the wall didn’t tick loudly; that would just reinforce her sense of loneliness.
    “This is ridiculous. I
am
used to living alone,” she said to herself, and Miss Marple jumped down on the sales counter to rub her head against Tricia’s arm, as if to remind her she wasn’t totally without company. Tricia scratched the top of Miss Marple’s head, and the cat’s purr went into overdrive.
    Tricia locked up the day’s receipts, tidied the store, and vacuumed, but all those tasks took only fifteen minutes. She still had the rest of the evening in front of her. She could watch TV or read but didn’t feel the need to do either. It was nearing her own dinner hour, but she wasn’t particularly hungry and wondered if a brisk walk would do her some good. As long as she as going, she figured she might as well take Sarge out, too.
    Donning her coat and a Polar fleece hat, she grabbed her keys, shut off all but the security lights, and locked the door behind her. Three minutes later, she and an enthusiastic Sarge were on the sidewalk, striding toward the village park once again.
    The lights were still on at the Patisserie as Tricia passed. She waved to Nikki Brimfield, who was swabbing out one of her big glass display cases, and gave a cheerful wave in return. That reminded Trisha that she needed to buy some cookies for her customers the next morning. Something else for her to-do list.
    She stopped at the corner and, as before, Sarge promptly sat awaiting the command that it was safe to go. Since there was no traffic, Tricia tugged the leash and he sprang to his feet, eager to set off again.
    They did a quick circuit around the park, but as the wind wasn’t as strong as Tricia had anticipated, she decided to head on down one of the side streets. Sarge was quite happy to trot along by her side.
    Minutes later Tricia found herself heading up Maple Avenue. She slowed her pace as she neared the Sheer Comfort Inn.Unlike the last time she saw it, there were no welcoming lights in its mullioned windows. Even the sconces along the front door were dark so that the porch was bathed in shadows.
    Tricia turned away. Was Harry in the back of the house somewhere, sitting all alone, brooding? Or was he in front of his computer writing? Or maybe he