Fly Me to the Tomb by Denise Swanson

Author:Denise Swanson [Swanson, Denise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Cozy Mystery
Publisher: Author
Published: 2020-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 21

Devereaux

I had spent Monday morning cleaning my new home and doing laundry. Jake and Tony had done a fair job keeping the place tidy, but the kitchen and bathrooms had been in desperate need of a good deep scrubbing, and I wasn’t sure that either man understood the necessity of moving objects off the surfaces they dusted.

After a quick lunch, Jake and I headed into town, arriving at the dime store a few minutes before twelve. I’d immediately started working on gift basket orders, and he’d headed upstairs to the office suite he rented from my company to use for his private detective business.

In addition to the space Jake occupied, the second floor held a teen lounge where the afterschool crowd could chill out. Provided, of course, they bought their drinks and munchies from my soda fountain.

It was a win-win situation. Instead of hanging around the dime store and getting in the way of me or my customers, they had a previously underutilized area all to themselves where they could talk, flirt, and play games.

Right now, both the store and the teen lounge were empty. But come three o’clock, that would change dramatically. And about ten minutes before that happened, my student clerk, Taryn Wenzel, would show up.

On the recommendation of Mrs. Zeigler, the high school principal, I had hired Taryn from the vocational education program. After losing my two previous clerks—one to college and one for less auspicious reasons—I’d had to take on a couple of new staff members.

My father was filling the full-time vacancy and Taryn the part-time position. They both were good with the adolescent crowd, and I left the supervision of the teen lounge to whichever of them was working with me that day.

Boone had called and said he and Quito would be over to discuss the case around one. While we waited for them, Jake was doubtlessly upstairs busy making calls regarding Aaron Burgess’s murder.

I, on the other hand, was lost in thoughts of sensual darkness and guilty pleasures as I contemplated the basket that I had been making for the last hour. It was one of my erotic specialties, so I kept glancing at the door, prepared to throw a sheet over it if one of my more prudish customers came into the store.

Examining the bachelorette basket, I knew something was missing. It needed that extra zing to be amazing. The bridesmaids had asked that I turn up the heat, and so far, I had included pheromone body lotion, edible finger paints, and a deck of playing cards with fifty-two different sexual positions.

All the goodies were nestled in the folds of a red satin robe for the bride and a pair of matching sleep pants for the groom. I was considering a box of chocolate-dipped strawberries, but that seemed so cliché. What was the final item that would wow them?

I leaned a hip against the old kitchen table I used as a workbench and let my mind wander. Of course, I would place my signature item—the perfect book for the recipient—in a prominent position.

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