Book Clubbed (9781101637289) by Barrett Lorna

Author:Barrett, Lorna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin USA
Published: 2014-05-16T00:00:00+00:00

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Pixie was late—by more than half an hour—when she finally showed up at Haven’t Got a Clue. “Didn’t I tell you I should get some new tires for my old boat?” she asked. “When I got down to the car, it had a flat. I got the Triple A to come and put on the spare, but I’m going to have to get a new tire any day now. Ya think I could leave early one of these nights?”

“Not one of these nights,” Tricia said, “you’ll do it tonight. I don’t want you to have an accident. Meanwhile, I have an appointment this morning. Do you think you could mind the store?”

“Piece of cake,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand, and went to the back of the shop to hang up her coat and hat and retrieve Tricia’s before heading back to the front of the store.

“Thanks,” Tricia said, donning the coat. Wasting no more time, she flew out the door. A minute later, she was in her car and heading north toward the highway.

Tricia hated to admit it, but she actually felt nervous as she pulled into the small gravel parking lot outside of Black’s Village Smithy. The proprietor had been the husband of her friend Deborah Black, the former owner of the Happy Domestic. She’d died the summer before when a plane crashed into the Stoneham gazebo on Founders’ Day. Tricia and David Black had never gotten along, and she hoped she wouldn’t run into him at what was now his art studio. An astute businessman, Black also hired welders to take in commercial jobs to keep the business afloat while he worked on his metal sculptures.

Tricia entered the front office, which looked like it could have doubled for a doctor’s waiting room. “May I help you?” asked a pretty young woman from behind a circular desk. She was dressed in a turquoise sweater set and dark slacks, not unlike what Tricia usually wore when working at Haven’t Got a Clue. Her long hair and pretty smile reminded Tricia of her late friend. Had David hired her because of that resemblance, and could he be bedding her, too? He hadn’t been faithful to Deborah, but then she hadn’t been faithful to him, either.

Tricia stepped up to the desk. “I’m here to see Jerry Dittmeyer. He said he’d be taking his morning break about now.”

“Sure. I’ll page him.” She picked up the receiver, pressed a button on the phone, and spoke into the mouthpiece, calling him to the office.

Tricia stepped back and looked around the small reception area while she waited. Although Black’s Village Smithy had only been in business for about six months, they seemed to be doing very well. A stand on the counter featured a glossy brochure of Black’s sculptures, with information on how to commission a piece. A window on the west wall overlooked the studio, where Black was fabricating a huge metal abstract work.

Despite the heavy padded clothing and

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