Murder on the Half Shelf by Lorna Barrett Page A

fifteen minutes.”
    “You know perfectly well what the DA is going to think.”
    “And that should give you even more incentive to prove him wrong. That is, if you don’t believe I’m capable of murder—unlike your ex-boss. Sheriff Adams was willing to railroad me to jail for a crime I didn’t commit. Are you going to do the same?”
    Before he could answer, a patrol car with lights flashing turned the corner and pulled up behind Baker’s SUV. “Why don’t you and Sarge wait in my car? At least you’ll be out of the cold.” Like all cops, he’d left the motor running.
    Tricia reluctantly retreated to the car. She
was
freezing. She lifted Sarge, got in, and shut the door. Baker was already conversing with the officer, and they both went over to look at the candlestick.
    Time dragged. After a while Sarge gave up watching the men across the road and curled into a ball on Tricia’s lap and went to sleep. She wished she’d brought a book along.
    Meanwhile, the Sheer Comfort Inn continued to stay dark.If Baker or his officer had gone to check to see if the owner was at home, Tricia hadn’t noticed. She’d been alternating looking out the window and watching the gas gauge plummet.
    Eventually a Sheriff’s Department cruiser showed up. Since Stoneham’s newly reinstalled police department had no technical team, they still had to rely on the Sheriff’s Department for some things.
    After another five minutes of discussion, the deputy donned latex gloves and extracted the candlestick from the hedge. Baker finally returned to the SUV to check in with Tricia. She hit the button and rolled down the window.
    “If you want to wait here in the car until we’re done, I’ll drive you home.”
    “How long is that going to take?” she asked.
    He let out a weary breath. “Could be another hour.”
    “I think I’ll walk.” She lifted a groggy Sarge off her lap, opened the car door, and got out.
    “I’ll come over to your place later. Have you eaten?” Baker asked.
    She shook her head.
    “How about I bring a pizza?”
    Tricia sighed. She had nothing else planned. “Sure. Why not?”
    “You be careful walking home. You’ve got your cell phone, right?”
    “That’s how I called you in the first place,” she reminded him. At least he was still concerned for her welfare.
    “Oh, yeah.” He looked like he wanted to say something else, and finally he just lunged ahead and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. The others had discreetly turned their backs on them.
    “I’ll see you in a while,” Tricia said, and started off down the pavement once more. She looked back at the corner. Baker had rejoined the other officers, but he was watching her and gave a wave. She waved back and continued on her way.
    After another circuit around the park, Tricia started back for the Cookery. She let herself in and took Sarge back to Angelica’s loft. The lights were off. Angelica hadn’t yet returned from her dinner with Michele Fowler.
    Tricia had just locked the door to the Cookery when Baker pulled up and parked across the street from Haven’t Got a Clue. Instead of a pizza box, he held a long paper bag with a sub sandwich inside. It was likely to be smothered in onions and hot peppers. Oh well.
    He crossed the street.
    “That was quick,” Tricia said in greeting.
    “Mr. Comfort hasn’t yet returned home. I’ve left Rogers there to wait for him and have a call in to Judge Weaver for a warrant to search the inn.”
    “Looking for what? The matching candlestick?”
    He nodded.
    Tricia unlocked her own shop door and let herself in. Miss Marple rose and stretched on one of the readers’ nook’s comfy chairs. “Dinnertime!” Tricia called, and the cat jumped to the floor and headed for the back of the shop and the stairs leading to Tricia’s third-floor loft.
    Miss Marple bolted up the stairs and was impatiently waiting for Tricia to arrive and unlock the apartment door. Once inside, the cat went straight for her bowl.