Murder On The Half Shelf

FOUR

The swinging door from the kitchen banged open and Chief Baker entered the living room with Harry Tyler right behind him. “Was that Mr. Porter leaving?” he asked.

“Yes, and I’d like to leave, too. If Mr. Comfort-or Tyler, or whatever he’s calling himself today-will give me a hand with my luggage, I’ll be off,” Tricia said rather curtly.

“I will help you,” Baker said.

“Fine with me,” Comfort said, and stalked off for the kitchen once again.

Baker waited until the door swung shut before he spoke, his voice low, angry. “Why didn’t you tell me about Tyler?” he demanded.

“Have you told me about every woman you’ve ever been with?” Tricia replied.

“Comfort or Tyler is a suspect in Pippa Comfort’s death. And you could be considered an accomplice.”

“How? I didn’t even know he was alive until he marched into the inn’s kitchen. You were there. You saw how surprised I was to see Harry Tyler return from the dead.”

“Of course, but the district attorney might not believe it.”

“That’s ridiculous. I hadn’t seen or heard from Harry since the day before he disappeared and was presumed dead over twenty years ago. I hadn’t even thought of the man in years.” Okay, that was bending the truth a little. She’d made a point of remembering Harry on his birthday, and on the anniversary of his so-called death, but after such a long period of time they were only wistful thoughts of what might have been. She’d mourned for him for a year or so, and then she’d dated other men and moved on with her life, eventually marrying Christopher Benson.

“It doesn’t matter what I think,” Baker said.

“Of course it does; you’re the Stoneham chief of police. You’re the one investigating this death.”

“Yes, and I have to make sure that everyone who’s a viable suspect gets treated exactly the same way. Including you.”

“I did not kill Pippa Comfort!” Tricia said, a bit louder than necessary.

“And you didn’t see anyone in that yard when you came out with the dog?”

“It was as quiet as a grave.”

Baker actually winced at her word choice.

“Now, since you let Angelica leave in a huff, I’ve got to bring all her luggage home, and my sister does not travel light. And unless you or one of your men gives me a ride home, I’ve got to drag that luggage through the streets of Stoneham.”

“I will give you a ride home.”

“Thank you. The suite is this way.” Tricia turned and started up the stairs with Baker hot on her heels.

“What were you doing here tonight, anyway?” he asked.

“Angelica won a raffle at the last Chamber of Commerce meeting. A night’s stay at the inn. Pippa thought she’d be bringing Bob along. She was shocked to see it was me.”

“Oh?” Baker asked suspiciously as they rounded the first landing.

“And don’t read anything into that. Bob’s a real estate agent. I’m sure she was hoping he’d tell prospective clients about the inn. Pippa gave us the master suite, which is why we’re still climbing stairs.” But by the time she’d said that, they had finished their ascent. Tricia rattled the door to the room and only then realized that Angelica still had the room key. “Oh, crap! Ange has the key.”

“There’s got to be a spare. I’ll go down and ask Comfort for it. Do you want to come with me and see him again for yourself? Make sure he’s the man you say he is?”

“After what he pulled, I have no desire to see or hear from Harry Tyler ever again. I’ll wait here, thank you.”

Baker frowned, noticed the back stairs, and took off.

Tricia leaned against the locked door and sighed. This was not how she’d envisioned her evening would go. A soak in the suite’s Jacuzzi tub would be just the thing right now, too. Then again, she’d felt guilty leaving Miss Marple alone for the night. When she got home, she’d make up for her absence by filling the cat’s bowl with kitty snacks.

She heard footsteps coming up the main staircase and seconds later saw Jon/Harry. He paused when he saw her standing there.

“What do you want?” Tricia asked.

“I live here.”

“Not in this suite. Did Chief Baker ask you to come up with the key?”

“No, I-” He stopped, ran his tongue over dry lips, and didn’t finish the sentence. He swallowed. “I thought you’d already be gone. I figured I should make sure the room was…inhabitable.”

“You’re still planning to open next week after what happened tonight?”

“I’ve got to make a living, if only to bury poor Pippa.”

Poor Pippa indeed. Only he didn’t sound all that sorrowful. Then again, maybe he was in shock. It hadn’t even been an hour since he’d learned of his wife’s death. Maybe he was in denial, and maybe Tricia was being too hard on him.

“I’m so sorry about Pippa. I only spoke to her for a minute or two, but…she seemed like a nice person.”

“She was. Maybe too nice.”

“Did she know about your past life-your other identity?”

Comfort hesitated. “We talked.”

As evasive an answer as Tricia had ever heard, but at least he wasn’t denying his former identity.

“Did you know I was in Stoneham?” she asked.

“Not until a couple of days ago when I saw the Chamber roster, and even then, I couldn’t be sure it was you. And why in God’s name did you have to show up here, anyway? Pippa was expecting Bob Kelly to accompany your sister.”

Footsteps on the stairs made them both turn. An annoyed Baker topped the landing. “Here you are. I’ve been chasing all over the house looking for you. Do you have the passkey?”

Comfort took a ring from his pocket and offered it to Baker.

“Which one opens this door?”

Comfort chose a key and handed it to the chief. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” He turned his attention back to Tricia. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Miles.” He turned away and headed down the stairs.

Tricia’s mouth dropped open in amazement, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. “Don’t tell me he denied being Harry Tyler when you questioned him before.”

“He did,” Baker confirmed. “And if he’s lying about not knowing anything about his wife’s death and then being Harrison Tyler, he’ll be in even more trouble.” He thrust the key into the lock and opened the door to the suite. “Let’s not talk about this any more tonight. We’ll get your luggage and get you home. I’m sure Miss Marple will be glad to have you back.”

Baker ushered Tricia in. Thankfully, Angelica hadn’t taken time to unpack. Tricia gathered up the white waitress uniform, stuffed it and the shoes into Angelica’s suitcase, and zippered it shut. Grabbing her own duffel and the pink cosmetic case, she let Baker handle the enormous suitcase.

“Did you ever order that pizza?” Baker asked as Tricia preceded him out of the room. He turned off the light and closed the door, and they started down the main staircase.

“No. And it’s probably too late now.”

“I’ve got some leftover pizza at my place,” he offered, and this time there was none of the irritation she’d heard in his tone during the previous hour. Still, after the evening she’d endured, she wasn’t up to being interrogated, and she knew he’d only want to talk about the evening’s events. He could do that tomorrow, during business hours. Right now all she wanted to do was jump into bed with a good book-not her sometime lover, full-time cop.

“No, thank you. Please, just drive me home. I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be another long day.”

When they got to the bottom of the stairs they found no sign of Comfort. Exiting the entryway, they found that all but one of the police cruisers were gone. A young officer stood at the bottom of the porch steps. He nodded. “Chief. Ma’am.”

“Give these keys back to Mr. Comfort, will you?”

“Sure thing, Chief.”

“And stick around until the end of your shift, Rogers. Martinez will relieve you when he comes on duty.”

“Yes, sir.”

Baker took the lead, wrestling Angelica’s suitcase through the door and out into the cold night air. Tricia followed him to his car. He hadn’t bothered to arrive in his own police cruiser. Good. The last thing Tricia wanted was for any of her neighbors to see her arrive home in a cop car.

Baker stuffed the luggage in the back of his SUV and opened the door for Tricia to get in. Tricia had buckled herself in by the time he opened the driver’s-side door and got inside. He started the engine.

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” she asked.

“I don’t know what to say right now. I have to be careful, Tricia. I’m the chief of police and I can’t let our relationship get in the way of my investigation.”

Tricia sighed. She hadn’t seen or heard from him in three days. It was hardly what anyone would call an overly close relationship. But then he’d explained at least a thousand times how important it was to get the department up and running, and she knew from reading police procedurals that what he said was true. But why did his work always have to encroach on their time together?

“Well, aren’t you going to say anything?” Baker demanded.

Tricia kept her eyes focused on the headlights’ narrow beams, which cut through the darkness. “It seems to me that you’ve said it all.”

They drove through the quiet streets of Stoneham, neither saying a word. And Tricia really didn’t want to talk. It was late, they were both tired and hungry, and the timing wasn’t right.

Baker paused on Main Street, did a U-turn, and pulled up in front of Haven’t Got a Clue. Without uttering a word, they got out of the car and Baker retrieved the luggage from the back of his SUV. “I’ll help you carry this into the store.”

“Thanks. I figured I’d dump it in the Cookery. Otherwise I’m sure Angelica will make me carry it up two flights.”

“Doesn’t she have a dumbwaiter, too?”

“Yes, but that won’t stop her from making me do it anyway.”

Baker shook his head. “I’m glad I only had a brother.” He followed her to the Cookery and waited as she separated the correct key from her ring, opened the door, punched in the security code on the pad on the wall, set the suitcase inside, then quickly reset the system and locked up again.

Baker walked her to her shop. “I know I don’t deserve it, but can I have a kiss good night?”

“I don’t just kiss anyone, you know.”

“I’ve heard that.” Her eyes widened with surprise, and he smiled. “Okay, I haven’t heard that. But it got you going there for a second, didn’t it?”

She wanted to be angry with him. Some part of her wanted to haul off and hit him.

Instead, she kissed him. And again. And then again…