Lorna Barrett - Chapter & Hearse

Writing a book can be a lonely processbut when youve got friends cheering you on, you never feel completely isolated. I owe many thanks to my critique partner, Sheila Connolly; my Guppy Sisters in Crime: Krista Davis, Janet Koch, and the always generous Sharon Wildwind, who is a virtual font of useful information. My friend Michelle Sampson, director of the Wadleigh Memorial Library in Milford, New Hampshire, is always available when I have a local color question. And, of course, my ever-faithful cheerleaders, Gwen Nelson and Liz Eng.

Thanks also go to all the terrific people at Berkley Prime Crime whove worked so hard on my behalf, including my wonderful editor, Tom Colgan; his assistant, Niti Bagchi; and the publicist, Megan Swartz. Thanks also go to Teresa Fasolino for the amazing paintings she does for my covers. I sometimes think shes reading my mind, because the covers are exactly how I picture the streets of Stoneham. Thanks, too, to my agent, Jacky Sach, for none of this would have been possible without her.

I love to hear from my readers. I hope youll visit my website, www.LornaBarrett.com, for updates and to join my newsletter mailing list.

The poster on the Cookerys display window had advertised the book signing for at least a month. Throngs of people were supposed to be in evidence. A temporary cook station had been assembled, and ramekins filled with diced vegetables, chopped chicken, and spices were lined up like props in a stage play.

Tricia Miles forced a smile and tried not to glance at her watch. Everything looks perfect, she said with a cheerfulness in her voice she didnt quite feel.

The guest author, her sister Angelica, stood behind the cook station, head held high, although her eyes were watery and her mouth trembled ever so slightly. Next to her stood a larger-than-life-size photo cutout of . . . herself! The real Angelica was maybe five foot six in her stocking feetthe cutout was six feet tall, dressed in dark slacks and a white blouse covered by a buff-colored, full-front apron with her name emblazoned across the front: ANGELICA MILES, and beneath that: author of EASY-DOES-IT COOKING.

Tricia tried to concentrate on the living Angelica, but her gaze kept wandering to the cutout. It wasnt a good likeness, but somehow Angelica had missed that when shed purchased the thing as an aid for promotion. Her rather demented expression was one of perpetual surpriseeither that, or one of a victim of bad plastic surgery. With her fingers splayed, the cutout reminded Tricia of a bird spreading its bony wings. Yes, that was itAngelica looked like shed been goosed. Either that, or the photographer had coached her into an uncanny imitation of a constipated blue heron.

The real Angelica spoke, her voice sounding wobbly. Nobodys going to come. Not one person.

Im here, said a smiling Ginny Wilson, Tricias twenty-something assistant at her mystery bookstore, Havent Got a Clue.

And I, said elderly Mr. Everett, Tricias other part-time employee.

Dont forget me, Frannie May Armstrong said in her Texas twang. Angelica owned the Cookery, Stonehams cookbook store, and Frannie managed it for her. Angelica also owned Booked for Lunch, a retro caf across the street. Writing cookbooks was just another entry on her colorful rsum.

Unfortunately, the village of Stoneham, known locally as Booktown, was more a tourist destination not far from the New Hampshire/Massachusetts state line. Not many of the locals supported the booksellers, whod been recruited to save what had been a dying village. And shops filled with used, rare, and antiquarian books had done it, too, as evidenced by new prosperity and a much-needed influx of tax revenue.

Wasnt a busload of gourmands supposed to arrive for the signing? Mr. Everett whispered to Frannie.

I got a call about an hour ago, she whispered in reply. They canceled, but asked for a rain check. They may come up sometime in the fall.

Tricia refrained from commenting. Thanks to the Inter-net, Angelica had cultivated a relationship with the Gamboling Gourmets, who traveled New England throughout the summer, tasting the local cuisines. Tonights signing was to be their first outing of the year, and Angelicas launch party. Shed spent days preparing a table full of dessertsall from her newly published book, Easy-Does-It Cooking, which had been officially available all of two days.

Angelicas cutout notwithstanding, Tricia had expected at least a few more warm bodies to attend the signing. Mr. Everetts bride of eight months had come down with a cold, which explained her absence, but surely the employees at Angelicas cafJake Masters, the cook, and Darcy Gebhard, the waitressmight have made an effort to be there. And someone else was conspicuous by his absence.

Anybody know where Bob is? Frannie asked.

Bob Kelly, owner of Kelly Real Estate and the president of the local Chamber of Commerce, had been Angelicas significant other for the past eighteen monthsever since shed come to live in Stoneham.

Im sure hell have a perfectly reasonable explanation for being late, Tricia lied. She and Bob werent exactly best friends, but she tried to overlook his many shortcomings for her sisters sake.

I saw his car parked down the street, near History Repeats Itself, Ginny volunteered. Its been there awhile.

Angelica pouted. He said hed be here.

Theres still time, Tricia reassured her.

Angelica nodded, resigned, and tucked a lock of her short, blonde hair behind her left ear. Business hasnt been good lately, and hes been preoccupied. It probably just slipped his mind.

Im sure youre right, Tricia said, and hoped her nose hadnt just grown an inch. For weeks, Angelica had done nothing but talk about the event.

Frannie straightened the stack of unsigned books on the side table, and everyone tried not to make eye contact with Angelica as they waited in awkward silence for someoneanyoneelse to arrive. Finally, Ginny suggested Angelica go ahead with her cooking demonstration.

Whats the point? Angelica asked, defeat coloring her voice.

Well, its almost seven thirty, and none of us has had dinner. I cant be the only one eager to try your Hacienda Tacos.

Good old Tex-Mexthe best food on Earth, Frannie piped up, then sighed. Next to a luau, that is. It was Frannies dream to retire to the fiftieth state.

Angelica gave a careless shrug and turned on the electric skillet.

Across the street, the newly installed gas lamps glowed. The Board of Selectmen had approved the installation of the old-fashioned streetlights in an effort to capitalize on the towns history and its new lease on life. Tourists ate up that kind of stuff, and the Board of Selectmen was eager to do all it could to encourage their visits. Unfortunately, when the bookstores closed, the visitors disappeared, leaving no one to appreciate them.

Within minutes, Angelica had prepared the filling, spooned it into corn tortillas, and passed them out to her smalland hungryaudience. The desserts were then sampled, and everyone sipped complimentary coffee, not making a dent in the contents of the five-gallon urn borrowed from Angelicas caf.

As Angelica served Mr. Everett another portion of coconut cake, Tricia gave Ginny a nudge. Buy a book, she whispered.

Ginnys eyes nearly popped. Theyre thirty-four dollars, she hissed. I cant afford it.

Use your charge card, and Ill credit your account tomorrow morning. I want Ange to make at least a couple of sales tonight.

Ginny shrugged. If you insist. She set down her paper cup, grabbed a copy of the coffee-table-sized book filled with glossy photos, and marched up to the cash desk where Angelica stood wringing her hands. I dont know about the rest of you, but Im proud to be the first to get my signed copy of