Free Valentine Murder by Leslie Meier Page B

about keeping, and she even suggested we sell Josiah’s Tankard to buy computers. As if computers will ever replace books! But she wouldn’t hear it—all she ever talked about was computer-this and computer-that! I don’t know what people see in those newfangled machines anyway.”
    Lucy thought of her struggle to disengage Zoe from the computer earlier that morning and smiled. “They’re certainly not all they’re cracked up to be. Sometimes they’re more trouble than they’re worth.”
    â€œMy thoughts exactly,” said Miss Tilley. “And most of the board members agreed with me.”
    â€œSo Bitsy was out of favor with the board?”
    â€œShe certainly was. In fact, I had suggested taking steps toward dismissing her. It’s tricky these days, you know. People sue for wrongful dismissal. Chuck told us we had to be very careful and begin documenting all the reasons why we were unhappy with her.” She paused and smacked her lips. “Now we won’t have to bother with all that. Looks like whoever killed that creature did the board a big favor.”
    â€œThat’s a terrible thing to say.” Lucy was truly shocked. “Maybe you didn’t like her, but she didn’t deserve to die!” She paused a moment. “And she wasn’t a ‘creature’—she was a person.”
    â€œI have a right to my opinion,” the old woman said stubbornly. “And I can call her a creature if I want to.”
    â€œWell, not to me, you can’t,” said Lucy. She was appalled at her old friend’s attitude. She got to her feet and placed her cup and saucer on Miss Tilley’s antique tavern table, then looked straight at the old woman. “You’re really going too far. I’m not going to listen to talk like this.”
    Rachel, who had overheard them in the kitchen, hurried out and got Lucy’s coat out of the closet. She held it up and whispered in Lucy’s ear as she slipped her arms into the sleeves.
    â€œDon’t pay any mind when she says things like that—she’s just getting old and she doesn’t like it.”
    Lucy squeezed Rachel’s hand. “You’re a saint to put up with an old witch like her,” she said, not bothering to lower her voice. “Thanks for the tea.”
    From the doorway, Rachel called after her, “Take it easy, Lucy.”
    As she walked to the car, Lucy heard Miss Tilley’s quavering voice.
    â€œI don’t know what she’s got so high and mighty about!” she declared as Rachel closed the door.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    Three little kittens,
They lost their mittens,
And they began to cry . . .

    T he snow squalls had stopped when Lucy left Miss Tilley’s, and the sun was making a half-hearted attempt to break through the clouds. It didn’t look as if it had much of a chance, Lucy thought glumly; the slim opening between the clouds was getting narrower by the minute. She shivered and pulled her hat down over her ears and got in the car.
    She turned the key in the ignition and pushed the heater controls up to maximum. Then she pulled away from the curb, neglecting to check for traffic. The loud honk of a horn as a pickup truck swerved to avoid the Subaru made her jump.
    Why am I so upset, she asked herself as she carefully checked her mirrors. Driving slowly along the snow-packed road, she wondered why she had found Miss Tilley’s attitude so disturbing. She hadn’t been especially good friends with Bitsy, after all, and Bitsy certainly hadn’t minded spreading rumors about her. Still, she couldn’t help but be saddened by her death. It was horrible and shocking, but, she realized, dwelling on it wasn’t getting her anywhere. She had a few minutes before she had to pick up Zoe, so she decided to stop at the IGA.
    The automatic door opened for her and she took a shopping cart. The fluorescent lights made the aging store