THIRTEEN

Tricia, Pixie, and Mr. Everett closed down Haven’t Got a Clue for the day, and it had been a pretty good one, too. The lean days between leaf peeping and the holiday season lurked, but for now they celebrated the seasonal crowds.

Once her employees had left for the day, Tricia trundled over to Angelica’s place, feeling more than a little guilty that she welcomed her sister into her home far fewer times than Angelica played hostess to her. She also knew that Angelica was a bit of a control freak and that being in charge had been a part of her nature since Tricia was born, and Angelica had become the big sister.

“How was your day?” Angelica asked once the sisters had retreated to the living room to enjoy their happy hour martinis and a snack, which on that day was a couple of bowls of potato chips.

“Pretty good,” Tricia said, and related her conversation with Chief McDonald. “I thought you were going to tell him about the sandwich delivered to the inn.”

“Oh, yeah,” Angelica said. “Well, I did talk to Ray, who runs Eat Lunch, and he said it was a teenage boy who paid him for the order. He’d never seen the kid before and didn’t know how to find him.”

“Ian is going to contact you, so you’d better be prepared.”

“Right,” Angelica said, but she didn’t sound happy.

“Are you prepared for the fallout of reporting Becca’s lapse?” Angelica asked wryly. Was Angelica thinking along those lines, too?

“There shouldn’t be much as I warned Becca that if she didn’t talk to the chief, I would. But I’d much rather tell you about my visit to the Harvicks’ apiary.” Which she did. In detail.

“I’ll look forward to reading your article. And, in the spirit of cooperation, I think I’ll visit the Bee’s Knees. I’m almost out of their wonderful honey.”

“As am I,” Tricia remarked, remembering David’s suggestion for how to reuse the glass jars.

“Let’s make it a point to do so soon. Or if you go first, buy some honey for me. I wouldn’t say no to a few beeswax candles, too.”

“Will do,” Tricia said. “And vice versa.”

Angelica nodded.

Tricia’s ringtone sounded, and she glanced at her cell phone’s screen. She winced. “Oh, gee. It’s Becca.”

“Did I mention fallout?” Angelica said, and got up, grabbing Tricia’s empty glass and her own, and headed for the kitchen to give Tricia some privacy for her call.

In truth, Tricia wasn’t surprised to hear from Becca just ninety minutes after she’d spoken to Chief McDonald. She answered the call, but didn’t have an opportunity to say hello before Becca spoke. “Why did you sic Chief McDonald on me?” the ex–tennis champ demanded.

Tricia took a breath, determined not to be intimidated by Becca’s strident tone. “I told you if you didn’t speak to him, I would,” Tricia said firmly. She paused, thinking about what she should say next. “Look, if you’d wanted what you know about Lauren’s state of mind before her death to be secret, you wouldn’t have mentioned it to me.” Or possibly anyone else. “You’re a good person at heart. I know you want Lauren’s killer to be caught and punished.”

“A good person at heart?” Becca repeated, aghast. “Are you insinuating that I’m only a good person part of the time?”

Oh, boy.

“Not at all. I think you wanted to test the waters, trying to figure out if what Lauren told you was pertinent. I just confirmed what you already knew. I don’t understand why you were so reluctant to share that with Chief McDonald.”

A lengthy silence followed Tricia’s words.

“I don’t know,” Becca finally admitted, her voice subdued. “I guess…” She hesitated. “Lauren was my second murder victim.” Becca’s ex-husband had been the first. It was something the women had in common. “Nobody should have to be acquainted with that kind of pain once, let alone twice.”

So, despite her claims to the contrary, Becca had had some feelings—if only pity—for Lauren. Perhaps she’d even given her sound advice regarding Lauren’s security problems. It wasn’t something Becca would be willing to admit. Someone who’d had to face the worldwide savage press after a significant tennis loss had probably hardened her vulnerable heart—at least to the outside world. That didn’t mean Becca was immune to feelings of loss and regret. And, once again, Tricia considered that Becca’s life might be filled with loneliness, for it sure didn’t seem like she had anyone close to rely on. That thought only made Tricia feel even more grateful for the people in her life.

“So, what did the chief say?”

“That he wished I’d come to see him instead of speaking to you. Actually,” Becca said, her tone softening, “he was quite nice. He was soft-spoken and very polite. He didn’t pull a guilt trip on me and said he hoped that if anything ever came up again, I should feel free to call him.”

“That doesn’t mean he’d fix a parking ticket for you,” Tricia pointed out.

“So you say,” Becca replied, sounding bored. A long silence followed. “I’d best be going,” Becca said. “Plans for expanding my empire take a lot of time. We’ll talk again soon.”

Was that a promise or a threat?

Tricia wasn’t sure she wanted to know.