Sentenced to Death Read Online Free

Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?”
    Tricia’s gaze narrowed. “I read a lot of murder mysteries where people are killed for inheritances, so don’t suddenly invite me to go sailing in Portsmouth Harbor or anything else nefarious.”
    “Me, nefarious?” Angelica rolled her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, I have left all my worldly possessions to you, too. And . . . maybe a few charities.”
    Maybe?
    Tricia blew on her soup before commenting. “Great minds must think alike, after all.”
    The door to Booked for Lunch opened, and Bob Kelly stepped inside. “Am I interrupting anything, baby?”
    Angelica sighed. Since she’d found out Bob had cheated on her earlier in the summer, her ardor had cooled considerably. But they still occasionally went out to dinner, and Bob tried unsuccessfully to mooch lunch off of her on a regular basis. Tricia turned back to her soup. By the look on Bob’s face, he was about to start whining.
    “What a day,” he said, and took the stool next to Tricia. He sniffed the air. “Boy, that soup sure does smell good.”
    Angelica ignored the hint for a freebie. “What’s up, Bob?”
    “This has to be the worst day ever for Stoneham,” he said, shaking his heard wearily.
    “I’d say so,” Tricia said, taking a spoonful of soup.
    “I can’t stop contemplating the slew of lawsuits that’ll come from this mishap.”
    “Mishap?” Tricia asked. “There are two dead people—one of them my friend—and all you can call it is a mishap?”
    “And all you can worry about are the lawsuits?” Angelica asked, just as incredulous.
    “There’s the whole bad PR angle to consider as well,” Bob added, and reached for one of Tricia’s packets of saltines on the counter. She slapped his wrist, taking back her crackers.
    “I don’t think you realize the position I’m in,” Bob went on. “I hired that pilot. I suggested we hold the Founders’ Day celebration. That leaves the Chamber of Commerce, the Board of Selectmen, and the whole village at risk of litigation.”
    “Who do you think will do the suing?” Angelica asked.
    “David Black, for one. There’s already talk that he’s seen a lawyer.”
    “What?” Angelica asked. “His poor wife’s only been dead a few hours.”
    Bob shrugged. “That’s what I heard.”
    “Has anyone seen David?” Tricia asked. He wasn’t her favorite person, but at the very least, she needed to offer her condolences.
    Bob’s gaze was intent upon her soup. “Not so far. At least he wasn’t at the . . .” He paused, hesitating. “Accident scene.”
    “Some accident,” Angelica said. “I’ve been wondering, why didn’t the plane explode on impact?”
    “That’s the crazy thing. It looks like it was out of fuel.”
    “You’re kidding,” Tricia said.
    Bob shook his head. “The firefighters were all set to hose down the area, expecting there to be a gas leak, but there wasn’t any fuel on the ground.”
    “The plane ran out of gas,” Angelica repeated, as though she couldn’t believe such stupidity.
    “Who was the pilot? Was he local?” Tricia asked.
    “Monty Capshaw. He flew out of a grass airstrip north of Milford.”
    “Monty Capshaw,” Angelica repeated. “Sounds like a movie star from the silent era. Did he wear a leather helmet and a bomber jacket?”
    Bob shrugged. “He had on grease-stained coveralls the last time I saw him. Can I buy a bowl of soup from you, honeybun?”
    Angelica’s expression was bland. “Sorry, Bob, Tricia got the last bowl.”
    A flat-out lie. Still, Tricia took another spoonful of broth and closed her eyes, savoring the flavor. “Mmm-mmm, good.”
     
     
    Tricia left Booked for Lunch, intending to go straight home, but up ahead on the sidewalk she saw her friend Captain Baker from the Hillsborough County Sheriff’s Department. Unfortunately, he was speaking to Russ Smith. Still, Tricia decided to plunge ahead and picked up her pace to intercept them.
    Fire and rescue