Rubies and Revenge by Angela McRae

Author:Angela McRae
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: jewelry, junkin' jewelry, female sleuth, female detective, female protagonist, murder, mystery, cozy
Publisher: Red Adept Publishing
Published: 2021-09-28T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Right before closing time at five o’clock, I got a call from Caitlyn that made my day. She’d finished meeting with the police, and apparently, she’d jumped to conclusions and wasn’t on their suspect list after all. They’d quizzed her on some details about Miranda’s background, which she found odd, but she told them what she knew. As a result, she didn’t need me to stop by her office.

Hallelujah! I needed to run by the house and check on Miriam, anyway, since I’d accepted the dinner invite from Jen. When I got there, Miriam stood in the kitchen and meowed loudly next to her water bowl, which I’d forgotten to check before I left that morning. Like most Siamese cats, Miriam could be quite vocal about her needs.

“I guess you’re glad to see me.” I stroked her fur then refilled her bowl. After quenching her thirst, Miriam curled up at my feet while I thumbed through a new jewelry-supply catalog that had arrived in the day’s mail. For once, I focused on the more expensive beads, charms, and findings. With the Jewelry Artisans of the Southeast show on my horizon, I needed to think about more upscale designs.

I also needed to figure out how to catch up on my current jewelry orders for the week when I kept saying yes to everyone around me—and to dinner with friends.

But that bananas Foster cupcake I’d eaten around four o’clock was long gone, so after I changed into jeans and a comfy top, I drove to Jen’s house and was more than ready for dinner. As I stepped through the front door of their fixer-upper, the aroma of garlic and onions made my stomach growl. I’d been so busy at the shop all day that by suppertime, I was famished. I entered Jen’s farmhouse-style kitchen, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply. “Mm. The pizza smells divine.”

When I opened my eyes, Jen had an arm extended and touched one of my beaded oval earrings. “Cute! A new design?”

“Yep. Sold six sets just like these at the gallery today.”

Todd nodded. “Very nice. I know your gallery sells arts and crafts, so are you considered an artist or a craftsman?”

I humphed. “That’s a great question. The difference between a crafter and an artist is often in the eyes of the beholder, but I like to think I’m a jewelry artist. And”—I waited till both Jen and Todd were looking at me—“I want you two to be among the first to know that I’ve been accepted to the Jewelry Artisans of the Southeast’s spring show.”

Jen squealed. “What? Why haven’t you told me about this already?”

“Yeah, that’s awesome,” Todd said.

Jen and I looked at him.

“I mean, I guess it’s awesome. Right? What’s the Jewelry Artisans of the Southeast?”

I laughed. “You have to send them images of your work and fill out this detailed application online, and you’re competing with some of the best amateur jewelry designers in the whole Southeast. It doesn’t matter how much money you’ve earned or how many thousands of followers you have on Facebook or Instagram.

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