Free Sentenced to Death by Lorna Barrett

than to toss the card and the gift straight into the trash. How could the man be so . . . so insensitive?
    Or maybe he was just stupid.
    Alone, in the mountains—with another long winter ahead of him—maybe Christopher had mellowed. Maybe he was expecting her to make some kind of grand gesture.
    Come home, darling, all is forgiven.
    Ha! Fat chance of that happening.
    Tricia wrenched open the velvet jewelry box. This time he’d sent stud earrings. They sparkled like diamonds—but had to be cubic zirconium. No one in their right mind would send diamonds in a plain padded envelope without benefit of insurance and a return receipt.
    Cubic zirconium. Yes, their marriage had been a pale imitation of the real thing, too. At least, that was how she looked at it in retrospect.
    And how had Deborah Black viewed her marriage? She’d complained about David on numerous occasions but had she loved him as much as Tricia had loved Christopher? And did any of that matter now that she was dead?
    Eventually, Ginny and her customer approached the register. Tricia forced a smile, moved the catalogs aside, and bagged the purchase after Ginny had rung up the sale.
    “I know you’re going to love that Josephine Tey. It’s one of my favorites,” she said, and the woman gave her a quick thank-you before heading out the door. As soon as the door closed, she slumped against the counter. “Was the store busy while I’ve been gone?”
    “Off and on,” Ginny said. “That was an awful long lunch.”
    “I’m sorry I left you on your own so long, especially as Mr. Everett is down at the Happy Domestic. But I ended up at the bank with Elizabeth. We opened a scholarship account for Davey.”
    “What a great idea. And don’t worry. Nothing came up that I couldn’t handle.” Ginny bent down to straighten the bags under the counter.
    “I’m so sorry about this morning, too,” Tricia said, feeling guilty all over again. “But—”
    “Let’s forget I ever mentioned it.” Ginny frowned. “In fact, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” She bit her lip, hesitating.
    “Is something wrong?” Tricia asked.
    “Not wrong, exactly. It’s just that since we talked this morning, I’ve . . . I’ve been offered another job,” she said, her voice no more than a whisper.
    “Oh?” Tricia asked, dreading what she was about to hear.
    “You see, Antonio—”
    She didn’t need to say more. Good old aggressive Nigela Racita Associates had struck again!
    “He offered you the job of managing the Happy Domestic,” Tricia said, some part of her noting how flat her voice sounded.
    Ginny nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. “How did you know?”
    “Elizabeth told me that David had accepted an offer.” Tricia swallowed but had to ask. “What did you tell him?”
    “That I had to think it over.”
    “What’s to think over?” Tricia said, trying to muster some enthusiasm.
    “Leaving you. And Miss Marple. And Mr. Everett. And, of course, Haven’t Got a Clue. Tricia, I love working here.”
    “Ginny, don’t be so sentimental,” Tricia said, though it was hard to keep emotion out of her voice. “This is a wonderful opportunity for you. I’m assuming you’ll make more money—”
    Ginny nodded.
    “And it’s the kind of experience you need so you can learn every aspect of running a business—so that you’ll be ready to open your own business one day.”
    “Yes, but—”
    Tricia shook her head. “No buts.”
    A tear trailed down Ginny’s cheek.
    “It’s hard to leave what you know and take on a new challenge, but I don’t know anyone else who could do a better job taking over for Deborah than you.”
    “But I don’t know her stock,” Ginny protested.
    “It’ll take you a week—if that—to learn it,” Tricia amended.
    “I wouldn’t know what to order, or the quantities—”
    “You. Will. Learn.”
    Ginny’s lower lip quivered. “What will you do without me ? I’ve been here almost since the day you