closing time. Although sunset was still almost two hours away, the east side of Main Street had retreated into the shadow of its western neighbor. Tricia tidied the already orderly sales desk for the fourth time, and Miss Marple stirred from her nap, unhappy that the solar heat she’d enjoyed most of the afternoon had disappeared.
The shop door opened, but it wasn’t a customer. Instead, Grace Harris-Everett, Mr. Everett’s bride, entered Haven’t Got a Clue. “Hello, Tricia!”
“Grace, what brings you here this evening?”
“William’s car is in the shop. I’m here to give him a ride—and perhaps convince him to take me to dinner in Nashua.”
“Sounds like a date to me.”
Grace actually giggled. “Marrying William has given me such joy. I do wish we’d done it sooner. You should try it.”
“I still might—but right now there are no likely candidates.”
Grace’s smile faded. “I was so sorry when you and Russ Smith broke up. Do you think there’s a chance you might get back together? I know he hasn’t given up hope.”
Had Russ been confiding in Grace? “I’m afraid not.” Not when she still thought about Grant Baker on a regular basis. Not that she was pining for Baker, either.
It was time to change the subject. “Grace, do you know Jim Roth’s mother?”
She shook her head. “I’m afraid I don’t. She and Jim only moved to Stoneham about five years ago, when he opened the store.”
Tricia frowned. For some reason, she had the impression—especially after seeing the inside of the Roth home and the wonderful garden—that they had been citizens of Stoneham for a lot longer.
“Mrs. Roth told me she couldn’t afford a funeral for Jim. Frannie’s planning a memorial service. Apparently Mrs. Roth depended on Jim’s income. I wonder if the other booksellers would contribute to a fund for her.”
“I didn’t know Jim well, but I’d be willing to contribute.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
Grace opened her purse and took out her checkbook. Using the display case as a desk, she wrote out a check and handed it to Tricia. “I’ve left the pay-to portion blank in case you want to cash it and give Mrs. Roth the donations in a lump sum.”
Tricia looked at the check, and her mouth dropped. One thousand dollars. “Oh, Grace, that’s extremely generous of you.”
Grace shrugged. “My first husband left me well off. I have no one to leave it to. If it can help Jim’s mother, I’m happy to give it.”
On impulse, Tricia gathered Grace into a careful hug. “I’m so glad you’re my friend.”
Grace patted Tricia’s back and chuckled. After a few moments, Grace pulled back, craned her neck, and looked for her beloved. “Where is William?”
“He went up to the storeroom to look for a copy of The Zero Clue by Rex Stout.”
“Oh, that’s one of my favorites.”
“We got a request for it on our Website. He should be down any moment.”
As if on cue, the door to the stairway at the back of the store, marked PRIVATE, opened and both Mr. Everett and Ginny appeared. “Grace, my dear. Is it time to go already?”
“I’m a few minutes early,” Grace admitted, standing on tiptoe to give Mr. Everett a demure peck on the cheek. He blushed as he handed Tricia the book.
“Why don’t you two run along?” Tricia said. “Ginny and I can close up.”
“That wouldn’t be fair to either of you,” Mr. Everett said.
“It’s not like we’ve got anyone waiting for us at home,” Ginny said, rubbing salt into Tricia’s figurative wound.
Grace smiled, and tweaked her husband’s collar. “I hope you realize how lucky you are, William, to work with two such lovely women.”
“Indeed I do,” he said solemnly.
Tricia felt a burst of affection for the old man. She’d never known either of her grandfathers, but she hoped they’d been as sweet as her elderly employee.
“Mr. Everett, I hate to ask, but for the next couple of weeks I’m really going to depend on you