Free A Novel Death by Judi Culbertson Page A

down."
    "Hey, kid, it's a big world out there. Could have been Rackham or T. S. Eliot."

    "Tell me honestly: did you ever read T. S. Eliot-or any other poets-before you got into the business? Do you read them now?"
    His smile disappeared; he actually looked annoyed.
    Why had I said that? Was it my way of showing that I had an equal, though different, claim to books? But before I could apologize, the bell over the door tinkled again. We both looked over and saw Howard Riggs. Today he wasn't wearing his white vinyl gloves and had actually gotten a summer tan. But the receding hairline and petulant expression were unmistakable.
    I thought he had come to yell at me for sending the romance reader to his shop.
    Instead, he and Marty eyed each other with an enmity I found chilling. Finally Howard turned to me. "Where's Margaret?"
    I started to explain about the accident, but Howard waved that aside. "I know all that; I don't live in a bubble! I thought she'd be back by now. Where's that assistant?"
    "Margaret's still in the hospital. Amil's not here"
    His eyes slitted. "And she asked you to run the shop?"
    "How could she? She's not even conscious! I'm doing it as a favor."
    His eyes raised to heaven put me in the class of little old ladies who arrived with casseroles and hand-crocheted afghans. People who screwed things up and ended with a plaintive, "But I was only trying to help!"
    "And you've been eating in here." His small nose wrinkled in disgust. "I smell tuna fish!"
    "No, I haven't," I lied. It had been turkey with honey mustard and Swiss cheese.
    "Well, you can leave now." As I stared at Howard, he added, "Margaret and I have an understanding to look out for each other. I'll lock up for her."
    I didn't know what to say. Marty gave him a mulish glare.
    "Will you be here tomorrow?" I asked.
    "Of course not! I have my own shop to run. I just stopped by when I saw The Frigate was open. I'll stay until six o'clock."
    I didn't like it, but what could I say? He and Margaret had the only bookshops in town and might well have had such an agreement. Technically he was the only one of us with retail experience.

    I moved into the side office to get my purse. At least if I left now I would have a chance to mail Margaret's books. But when I came out with an armload of Priority Mail boxes, Howard glowered. "Where are you going with those?"
    "I thought I'd try the post office."
    "Leave them! You don't know what she wants done."
    "Who do you think wrapped them-the book fairy?" As soon as I said it, Marty chortled, at something I'd never meant. "I mean, I wrapped these books. They've got to be mailed." The trouble was that now I didn't dare take the money for postage out of the cash register; Howard would accuse me of stealing. I would just have to charge it on my business credit card and get reimbursed.
    Marty helped me carry the boxes outside. "He could care less about Margaret. He just wants a chance to search the place," he said grimly.
    Don't all of you?
    We stopped at my van and I slid the side door open. I was tempted to reassure him that Margaret would never leave such a valuable book in the shop. Yet as soon as I thought it, I remembered her talking once about a closet she had had installed during the renovations. It was state-of-the-art, fire-walled and dehumidified with its own temperature control, to keep truly rare books safe from sunlight, insects, and mildew. "Not that I have anything to put in it," she had joked. "Talk about overly optimistic!"
    I didn't mention the rare-book closet to Marty.

     

I stopped at the post office to mail Margaret's books and then, on impulse, went to Wild by Nature to buy ingredients for a healthy dinner. But by the time I pulled into the driveway after a day that had started at four thirty A.M., I was in no mood to husk corn or broil salmon. Even lifting the lid off the container of salad bar greens seemed like too much work. Opening a can of Senior Friskies for Miss T and Raj, I listened to my