After leaving the Schumer home and dropping Pepper off at her tea shop, I headed back to Last Chance Books. I parked my truck in its usual spot in the narrow alleyway beside the building then went inside to check that things were running smoothly.

Hanna, the assistant I’d hired, was busy helping customers at the counter, and everything else looked to be in order. I checked the mail and dropped off my purse in the office then headed back out to follow up on what Desmond had told me about the feud between his father-in-law and Barney Delaney. It was a thin lead at best. No one murdered someone just because they argued a lot, did they?

Hmm… hadn’t Cordelia said that Barney always lost to Albert in checkers? Was that what they argued about? Who would murder someone just to win in checkers? As far as I knew, the contest didn’t have any prize other than boasting rights, and they’d been playing against each other for years. Why kill him now?

Delaney’s Antique Emporium was down two blocks and around the corner from my bookstore. The afternoon air was crisp and cool, and weak sunshine filtered through the puffy, gray clouds above. Barney Delaney was in his late seventies and had owned the antique store for more than twenty years, ever since he’d retired from being the town’s postmaster and way before I returned to town.

Inside the shop, it was like entering a different world. Soothing instrumental music played from the overhead speakers. The air smelled of exotic spices and old memories. In the main part of the store, antique furniture was set up to mimic different rooms, as it would be in a house. Stained-glass lamps sat on oak side tables next to blue brocade sofas with carved mahogany backs.

Beyond that, the store was divided into sections for various items—furniture, rugs, artwork, ceramics, kitchenware, books, and periodicals. There was even an extensive grouping of old post office memorabilia and another for rare stamps and coins.

I spotted Barney behind the counter near the register and made my way over to him, passing a lovely old checkers set made from expensive ebony, ivory, and marble. Barney watched me with a wary gaze, and I did my best to put him at ease.

“Your shop looks as beautiful as always,” I said, hoping to win some points with him.

“Thanks,” he said, turning away, a frown etching his weathered face. So much for making a good impression. He wasn’t exactly known as the most talkative guy around town, or the friendliest. Barney Delaney kept mostly to himself, except for the yearly checkers tournament. And fighting with Albert Schumer, apparently. “What can I help you with today, Miss Chance?”

“Oh, please. Call me Willa.” My smile faltered slightly when he just stared at me. “Um, I wondered if I might ask you a few questions.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On what they’re about,” he said, his bushy white eyebrows knitting together. “I’ve got a shop to run here. Best make it fast.”

“Right.” I glanced around the empty store then back to him, forcing my smile wider. “I just left the Schumer household. Terrible thing that happened to poor Albert, huh?” I glanced up to see his reaction, but Barney was busy sorting through receipts on the counter, his expression unreadable. “Anyway, Albert’s son-in-law, Desmond, mentioned you’d had a fight with Albert shortly before he died. I wondered if you might tell me what that argument was about.”

Barney gave me a long flat look over the tops of his wire-rim glasses, his gaze narrowed. “There was no argument.”

“But Desmond said he clearly saw you and Albert—”

“We were having a lively discussion,” Barney continued, talking over me. “Albert was my friend. That’s just how we communicated.”

“Hmm.” I glanced over at the expensive checkers set again, searching for common ground. “You must be looking forward to this year’s tournament. Rumor has it you’re a shoo-in to win, with Albert gone.”

Barney froze, his fists clenching on the wooden countertop, the sound of crinkling paper filling the air as he crushed the receipts in his hands. “What exactly are you implying, Miss Chance?”

Heat prickled my cheeks as I realized I’d put my foot in it this time. “Oh, uh, nothing. I was just talking to Cordelia Deering this morning—she and her sister, Hattie, are regulars at my shop each day, you know—and she mentioned your skill with the game and—”

“I had nothing to do with Albert Schumer’s death,” Barney said, coming around the end of the counter to stand before me. Even for an elderly guy, he was still a good foot taller than I, and in relatively good shape, lean and sinewy. If the hard glint in his icy-blue eyes was any indication, he was furious. Perhaps the argument Desmond claimed he saw had merit after all. Tension pulsed off Barney in waves, and I could well imagine him fighting with poor Albert then whacking him on the head hard enough to kill him. I could also imagine him doing the same to me. “Like I said, Albert was my friend. And why would I murder someone to win that checkers tournament? There isn’t even a cash prize.”

“I never meant to imply anything, Mr. Delaney,” I said, inching away from him slowly and moving nearer to the door. “Honestly. Like I said, Desmond had these concerns, and I promised I’d ask about them the next time I saw you.” I gave a nervous laugh. “My past as a crime reporter’s to blame. I’m too curious and nosy. At least that’s what Striker always tells me.” I figured it didn’t hurt to name-drop my law enforcement boyfriend to give Barney second thoughts about clonking me on the head and pushing me out onto the steps.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his shoulders slumping slightly and his head lowering. The corners of his mouth turned down, and I caught a glimpse of a man who’d just lost an old, and possibly only, friend. Sympathy bubbled up inside me before I tamped it down.

“Look, I’m sorry I jumped all over you there, Miss Chance. I guess this whole thing with Albert’s just thrown me for a loop.” He moved back behind the register again, his anger apparently mollified and his tone contrite. “But I’ll tell you something. If you’re looking for suspects in Albert’s death, I’d look no further than his own family. That no-good son-in-law of his was leeching off Albert. Last I heard, Desmond had gotten into some shady deal with Nathan Anderson involving Albert’s old stamp collection.” Barney shook his head. “In fact, Desmond came in here earlier this morning with a bunch of stamps he found in Albert’s old things from the post office. The man’s not even in his grave yet, and that schmuck’s trying to profit off him.”

My mind spun with the new information. Desmond must have been in town just before Pepper and I showed up at the Schumer house then. I wondered if Gemma had any idea what her husband was up to. Then I wondered if any of those stamps had come from the missing letter from the murder scene. “Can I see what he brought in?”

“No, you can’t.” Barney scowled. “I didn’t buy them. Flat-out refused. I told him I wanted nothing to do with his schemes and blood money. Desmond was as mad as a hatter about it, but I didn’t care.”