Herald of Death by Kate Kingsbury Page B

bare of ornaments except for a large clock ticking above the fireplace. A small table at her side held only a book, its pages marked with a slim piece of paper.
    The title intrigued her. Tales of a Mystic. It was the heading on the bookmark that held her attention, however, until Lester spoke.
    “Now, then,” he said, smoothing his drooping mustache with his fingers. “What can I do for you today, Mrs. Baxter? A nice pair of leather boots, perhaps, or a pretty pair of satin shoes to match a tea gown? I have a pair in black satin that are just exquisite.”
    Sorely tempted, Cecily had to focus on the task at hand. “Actually, Mr. Salt—”
    “Lester.” He shook a finger at her in mock disapproval. “Remember?”
    “Pardon me. Lester.” She crossed her ankles, beginning to dislike this rather overbearing man. “As I said earlier, I’m here to talk to you about your former employer, Mr. Thomas Willow.”
    At the mention of the name, Lester’s face momentarily darkened, then his expression changed to the false melancholy of a true salesman. “Ah, poor Thomas. He taught me all I know. Such a dreadful end. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing to a defenseless old man.” Lester wrung his hands. “I was simply devastated to hear the dreadful news. Left to die by the roadside in the bitter cold of a snowstorm. Whatever is this world coming to, I ask you?”
    Cecily watched him closely. “Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to hurt him?”
    Now Lester looked shocked. “Goodness, no. True, there weren’t many people who liked him all that much, though I got along with him all right. He was rather a dour old devil, always seeing the worst in people. I used to say his only friend was his dog, and Thomas didn’t treat him very well. He was always kicking or slapping him about.”
    He glanced over to a corner of the room, where for the first time, Cecily noticed a mangy-looking dog lay sleeping. “He’s a bit of a mess right now, but as soon as I have time I’m going to give him a bath.”
    The dog looked as if it needed a lot more than a bath, Cecily thought, but she kept her comments to herself. “I understand you are managing the shop now,” she said, looking back at Lester. “Do you happen to know the new owner?”
    Lester’s eyebrows twitched. “Oh, you haven’t heard? Thomas left me the shop in his will.” Again he uttered the brash laugh. “Of course, it will be a few weeks before everything is official, but I must keep the shop open for the customers.”
    “How very fortunate for you.” Cecily paused, then added, “It must have been quite a pleasant surprise.”
    Lester locked his hands across his chest. “Nobody was more stunned than I to hear the news, Mrs. Baxter. Most unexpected. Thomas once told me he planned to leave the shop to me but I didn’t believe him, of course. I thought he was merely saying that to keep me in his employ.”
    Cecily pursed her lips, wondering just how truthful was that statement. “So you are happy with the arrangement?”
    “Well, of course!” Lester sent a hunted glance at the door, as if he wished the conversation were over. “It isn’t every day someone gives away a thriving business. Of course, Thomas had no relatives, as far as I know. He never married, and there was no mention of siblings in his will.”
    “I see.” She wondered how to phrase the next question, then decided to just ask it. “Can you remember where you were the morning Thomas died?”
    As she’d suspected, Lester seemed offended by the question. He tossed his head, and smoothed back a lock of dark hair that fell across his forehead. “I was right here, Mrs. Baxter, where I’ve been ever since it happened, taking care of the shop as always. Thomas had taken Rex for his morning walk, and when he didn’t return at the usual time I became concerned, particularly since the snow had been falling steadily all morning. When Rex wandered into the shop without Thomas, that’s