LITMIR.BIZ

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and Noelle found Bertie in the dining room, scrambling to keep the buffet table filled with enough black walnut waffles to satisfy the Saturday-afternoon brunch crowd.

      One glance, however, brought Bertie to her side, dish towel in hand.

      “Jill Cooper, you look like you could use a good, filling meal. Was that massage at the spa too much for you?” She gestured for Jill to follow her into the dining room.

      “I…um…Bertie.” She froze. She couldn’t do this.

      Bertie, diminutive, white-haired, already looked too fragile. She had suffered so many losses in her life. Her only child had died young, decades ago. Her husband, Red, had died two years ago. And now this? Her business partner and best friend?

      “Uh-oh,” Bertie said. “I can tell by that look on your face you saw our visitor. Wasn’t Austin your old high-school sweetheart?”

      “Yes, Bertie, he was, but—” She looked at Noelle.

      With a nod, Noelle gently took Bertie by the arm and led her out of the dining room. “We need to tell you something.”

      “Well, for goodness’ sake, what is it?” She looked at Jill, and her warm, friendly eyes darkened with distress. “Jill, didn’t you and Edith go to the spa this…oh, no. Did that ticker of hers pitch a fit again? I keep tellin’ her to remember her medicine, but half the time she goes off without it. Someday it’s gonna—”

      “Bertie,” Jill said, “this time she didn’t make it.”

      There was a startled pause as the words registered, then the news pressed Bertie’s slender shoulders down with their weight.

      “I’m sorry,” Jill said, once again feeling the loss like a knife in her heart. “I’m so sorry.”

      Chapter Seven

      Hours before the funeral service at the Methodist church on Wednesday morning, Jill stepped tentatively through the front door of Noelle’s Naturals and Spa.

      When Jill was a horseback-riding youth, she’d been taught early to get back on the horse quickly after being tossed so she wouldn’t develop an unnatural fear of horses. The concept had worked then. Would it work for her in this situation?

      Of course, she’d never been a fan of spas, whereas she had always loved horses, dirty and dangerous as they could be. They still weren’t as dangerous as humans.

      As a nurse, she was in close contact with people every day, but she was the one giving the care. She was in control. In a spa, she felt vulnerable. The memory of Edith’s death continued to weigh heavily on her.

      Soothing music emanated from hidden speakers, and an abundance of plants thrived in this roomy waiting room.

      Imitating what Dane Gideon had done with his general store years earlier, Noelle had purchased two empty store buildings with a shared wall within the town square complex. She had knocked out a portion of the connecting wall and combined the space so she could easily oversee the natural herb and food shop while managing the spa. She had also dipped deeply into savings to develop a Web site and an all-out marketing campaign that reached the entire southwest area of Missouri.

      “Hi, Jill. Back for another massage?”

      Jill turned to find Sheena Marshall stepping out of one of the massage rooms. Her blond hair was tied back, and her pretty blue eyes had circles beneath them. She looked as if she had lost weight since Saturday. Gone was that characteristic perky smile.

      “Not today, thanks.”

      “Didn’t think so.” Sheena went into Noelle’s office and sat at her desk. She pulled open the top drawer and took out a pad of sticky note paper.

      “Are you with a client right now?” Jill asked.

      “Nope. It’s been slow, so I’m making a supply list.” She closed the drawer and stood up. “I guess no one wants to come to a place where a nice old lady died. Like maybe she was contagious or something.” Sheena shook her head sadly. “You know how superstitious people can be.”

      Jill nodded as she glanced toward the broad entryway to the herb and food shop. “I’m sure it’ll pick back up. It’s just a time of mourning.”

      “You’re looking for your sister, I guess.” Sheena stepped back out into the hallway with a pen and the notepad.

      Actually, Noelle wasn’t who Jill was looking for. They’d had another long talk last night.

      “She’s gone to Springfield to pick up some supplies,” Sheena explained. “Nathan decided to go with her. Those two are so sweet to each other, Mom says sometimes she just wants to gag.” Sheena smiled, and it was a sad smile. Ordinarily, she was the giggling type, but since Edith’s death, the young woman had lost her usual effervescence.

      Jill hesitated, feeling intrusive. “Since you mentioned the day Edith died, do you remember much about that morning?”

      Sheena blinked at her, then glanced again toward the connecting entryway between the spa and the shop, as if concerned someone might overhear them. “Sure I do. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m sorry I was such a brainless idiot that day.”

      “You were understandably upset. It was a horrible thing for you to see.”

      “It’s just that…well…Miss Edith was always so good to everyone. And I know everyone has their time to die, but I didn’t think her time would be on my watch, you know?” She gave a shudder for emphasis. “I don’t like death.”

      “Nobody does.”

      “I know. I guess death has to come, and it’s best if it comes for someone who’s lived a good, long life and is ready, you know? But still, I hate that it had to be like that.”

      “Did the shop get a lot of visitors that morning?” Jill asked. “I mean, not clients, but drop-in visitors.”

      Sheena’s gaze sharpened then. “Why? Are you checking something out?”

      “To be honest, I’m not sure what I’m doing, unless it’s just a search for closure. You know how much I cared about Edith.”

      Sheena nodded sympathetically.

      “She was the one who convinced me to have a massage in the first place,” Jill said. “She was already in a robe Saturday afternoon when I got here. Do you know how long she’d been here when I arrived?”

      Sheena’s eyes narrowed in concentration. “Couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, but I might be wrong. You know how these old folks who know everybody can talk for hours about nothing in particular.”

      “Who else do you remember being here that day?”

      “You’d probably get a better answer from Noelle. She was the one who opened up that morning.”

      “She was on the computer in her office most of the time, working on August month-end things. She didn’t see many people.”

      “Well, then Mom would have seen them, I guess. She’d left just a little before you got here.”

      “Austin Barlow was here, I understand,” Jill said.

      “Sure, you know how he always liked to check out the new businesses in town. He thought it was his civic duty to do that when he was mayor.”

      “Did he have anything to say? Do you remember if he spoke with Edith?”

      “I didn’t hear if he said anything to her. Remember when he got into an argument with her during that church business meeting, then somebody up and killed her cat? Some said Austin might’ve done it, but now we know it wasn’t him, don’t we?”

      Jill shook her head. Austin’s son had killed Edith’s cat. What agonies Austin must have gone through when all of this painful information about

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