tapped the table with her fingernails. “Supposedly, Mick and he were at each other’s throats last week.”
That was news to me. How many people had Mick riled lately?
“Mick warned Gregory not to step foot near his shepherd, or else.”
“What did Gregory do?” Isabella asked.
“Told Mick to heel, of course,” the woman in lavender joked. “What he actually said was Mick’s dog wasn’t worth the trouble. That set Mick off even more.”
“Don’t listen to gossip,” Hattie said. “Gregory is not a suspect. Besides he would be one hundred percent in the clear. He has an alibi. Wednesday night he went to San Jose to consult with a friend of my family’s about her Dachshund. Oh, there’s my sister. She knows who I’m talking about.” Hattie rose from the table and bid the dog owners good-bye.
When she was out of earshot, the woman in lavender clucked her tongue. “Gregory being on the road doesn’t prove anything. From here to San Jose and back is only a matter of hours. Mick was killed in the dead of night.”
Isabella gasped at the word dead. So did I.
“Hello, everyone,” a woman crowed.
All heads turned.
Petra Pauli strode through the French doors with her collies, which were yet again straining at their leashes. They dragged her toward the dog-friendly table. As Petra was wont to do, she handed off her dogs. This time to Isabella. Then she tossed a copy of the book club selection on the table and orbited the patio to hand out flyers. “Don’t miss this coming week’s council meeting,” she said to our patrons. “We want to hear from all of you. Have complaints? Voice them at city hall. We’re here to listen.”
I noticed a number of women on the patio eyeing Petra’s getup, a snug-fitting olive green sweater over ultra-tight camouflage-style jeans, which she’d tucked into brown boots. The boots matched her briefcase. Each item looked expensive and hip. Definitely not a mourning outfit. Maybe she hadn’t been in love with Mick Watkins after all, or she didn’t buy into the mourners should wear black tradition.
To each and every person, Petra offered a winning smile, whether that person was receptive to her pitch or not. How politicians continually maintained a public face amazed me.
After making one pass around the patio, Petra strode into the main showroom to offer flyers to more customers. Through the windows, I spied her talking to an attractive woman—a friend, judging by the way they hugged. The woman handed Petra a tissue. Petra lowered her chin and discreetly blotted her eyes.
Joss was standing nearby, one hand cupped around her ear. Was she listening in?
I caught her eye and beckoned her to join me. A minute later, she scurried through the French doors and drew me away from the crowd.
“We’re waiting on two more people, and then we can start,” she said. “I called each and verified that they’re coming.”
I glanced at Miss Reade, who was organizing her notes at the podium. “Perfect. Let’s have Yvanna bring out the teapots of hot water and the treats. That’ll take a few minutes. If the last two attendees aren’t here by then, we’ll start without them.”
“Got it.” Joss turned to go.
“Hold on.” I clasped her wrist. “Not so fast. You were eavesdropping on Petra and her friend, weren’t you?”
Her cheeks turned crimson. “You noticed?”
“I’m not blind.”
“I heard Emily Watkins’s name mentioned and decided to tune in.”
“And . . .”
Joss lowered her voice. “Petra was complaining that Emily wouldn’t let her into their house.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Why would Petra want to go inside the Watkins’s house?”
“Apparently to fetch a few of things that she’d, um, given to Mick.”
“Like what?”
Joss batted her eyelashes. “Lingerie.”
I nearly choked. “Are you kidding me? She admitted to Emily that she was having an affair with him?”
“Sounded like it to me.”
“How brazen.”
Joss bobbed her head. “Needless to say, Petra said Emily called her all sorts of colorful names.”
“I’d have clocked Petra. The nerve.” I shook my head. “Whether or not Mick was a cheater, Emily is mourning him. She deserves—”
“Shh.” Joss pinched my arm. “The councilwoman’s heading this way. I’m out of here. Treats coming right up.” She rushed into the shop.
As Petra neared me, I said, “Nice to see you.”
She gazed at me warily and glanced over her shoulder. When she returned her gaze, she said, “What did your clerk tell you? Did she hear me and my friend talking about my set-to with Emily?”
I didn’t respond.
“I can tell by your face that she did.” Petra