A Lesson in Love and Murder (Herringford and Watts Mysteries, #2)

A Lesson in Love and Murder (Herringford and Watts Mysteries, #2)

Rachel McMillan





Dedication



FOR THOM LEVENE,

Who not only inspired my lifelong love of story but taught me it was okay to be myself.





ACKNOWLEDGMENTS





Thanks go to…

Kathleen Kerr. You went above and beyond (as per always) and are truly the brains behind this series.

The entire Harvest House team, for believing in me and my zany ideas.

Kathleen McMillan. My best friend, cookie-maker, research assistant, ledge-talker-offer. I “endeavour” to make you proud.

Gerry McMillan, RCMP chaplain, Canadian history buff, and teller of endless stories about his childhood summers in Riverton, Manitoba.

Jared and Tobin, who keep the infinity pool dream going strong.

My lovely Maisie. Tante Rachel loves you.

Ken and Leah, for support from the faraway land of Abu Dhabi (and for the camel pics!).

Thanks also go to Allison Pittman, Annette and Steve Gilbert, Ruth Samsel, Hannah Matthews, Olivia Matthews, Miranda Matthews, Tim Jolly, Christina Jolly, Sonja Spaetzel, Jessica Davies, Kat Chin, Mike Ledermeuller, Karin Chun Taite, Team Shiloh, Stephan Roberts, Melanie Fishbane, Marion Abbott, Ruth Anderson, and Gina Dalfonzo.





Contents

Praise for The Bachelor Girl’s Guide to Murder

Books by Rachel McMillan

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Epilogue

Author’s Note

About the Author

Herringford and Watts Mysteries

About the Publisher





If in their economics the Anarchists were hazy, their hatred of the ruling class was strong and vibrant… To the workers themselves it was not the faraway rich but their visible representatives, the landlord, the factory owner, the boss, the policeman, who were the Enemy.

Barbara W. Tuchman, The Proud Tower





CHAPTER ONE





We regret to inform you that due to our company’s policy regarding married women in the workforce, we are no longer in need of your services. We are grateful for your loyalty to Spenser’s and hope you will accept this coupon for Maidwell’s Laundry Soap as a token of our gratitude.

Well, I suppose crime will just have to start to pay!” Jemima DeLuca said, flinging down the letter and the soap coupon with it. The notice was hardly a surprise—everyone knew the rules, and her marriage wasn’t exactly a secret. Still, the loss of her job in the Spenser’s Department Store mailroom was a turn of events Jem had not fully anticipated.

Ray wouldn’t be pleased when he found out. How would they pay their electric bill? It was time to stop solving mysteries gratis, Jem decided with a frown. The murder and mayhem she investigated with her best friend and former flatmate, Merinda Herringford, would need to result in cold, hard cash.

She stomped to the locker room to retrieve her coat and hat, her meager half-week salary note dangling in her shaking hand. A number of her colleagues were gathered there, just at the end of their shift.

“As I was saying,” the foreman bellowed at them, “Mr. Spenser has very strict rules about the conduct of his employees. If you want your employment to be terminated”—here he paused dramatically, a hush rippling over the workers—“you may very well go ahead and join the riffraff at Mrs. Goldman’s rally.”

“You can’t stop us from demonstrating views that have nothing to do with our employment. Not in our free time,” a squeaky voice said from the back.

“Mrs. Goldman speaks against honest work. She would have all of you overthrow Mr. Spenser and the kind people, like myself, who are entrusted to manage you.” The foreman drove a dart of a glare in the direction of a few giggling girls in the corner and went on. “Avoid any path that radical woman crosses. Do not associate with her or the anarchists who follow her. And you can be assured that Mayor Montague’s Morality Squad will be keeping the impressionable young ladies of Toronto safe from Mrs. Goldman’s rallies.”

Keep them safe, all right, thought Jem, slamming her locker shut for the last time. Safe in St. Jerome’s Reformatory!

“Ah!” The foreman had finished his address, and the murmurs from the gathered employees crescendoed into conversation. “Mrs. DeLuca. I see you are finally taking your leave.”

“It’s a silly rule,” Jem said testily. “Just because I’m married… just because… ”

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