Seven Deadly Sequins (Bonnie & Clyde Mysteries Book 2) by Julie Anne Lindsey

Author:Julie Anne Lindsey [Lindsey, Julie Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cozy Queen Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-10-14T17:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Gigi and I stayed busy at Bless Her Heart, helping customers and speculating about Rowena’s life until closing.

I’d also created a lovely Founder’s Day display on my rear wall, visible as folks walked inside. I’d arranged my fancy dresses and sparkly heels before a backdrop of party décor to show my Bliss spirit. I could only hope the court members I’d invited would stop in soon and pick out their gowns.

Gigi made sure every customer through the door left with something sweet from the table of baked goods, thanking them individually for stopping in.

I wasn’t sure if her angle was to get her sweets into the community, in case she found a way to open a bakery, or if she wanted to remind people she was a nice lady and not a killer. Either way, it was a smart move, and staying ahead of gossip was the key to small-town living.

I turned the overhead lights off and gave Clyde a pile of treats. “We’ll be back after book club,” I promised, scratching behind his ears while he munched. “Protect the store for me.”

My gaze jumped to Judy in her hot-pink pot, and I reminded myself that succulents didn’t attack killers. She wasn’t a personal-protection plant, and I didn’t need to start carrying her everywhere I went. Also, the fact I’d spent ten seconds reasoning through the matter said a lot about my current headspace.

I really needed to get out more. Do things completely unrelated to murder investigations or work. I just had no idea what that would be.

Gigi pulled her pocketbook from behind the counter and hung it from the crook of one arm, then hefted a box containing the remainder of her baked goods in the other hand. “Ready?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I drawled, locking up behind us. “You know, there might be a way for you to sell your sweets from the shop,” I said. “Maybe we can create a corner dedicated to your treats, then buy special packaging and create ads to let folks know where to find you.”

“Maybe,” she said, but her heart wasn’t in it. “First, I need to make sure I’m not going to jail.”

“You aren’t going to jail. Mason doesn’t really think you killed Rowena. He’s just following the facts. Right now they all point to you, but if book club goes well, we’ll have more information very soon.”

I stared at the bookstore window as we approached. The owner, Liz, insisted the place had a mind of its own. According to her, she never stopped trying to arrange the shelves and aisles, but the shop never stopped putting things back where they started.

Her bookstore was a lot like my life.

“Do you think What the Dickens is really haunted?” I asked Gigi as I held the door for her to enter.

“Probably,” she said. “Readers always want to finish one more chapter. Makes sense to me that folks get engrossed and forget to go into the light.”

I’d had a similar thought not long ago, but the idea had been in jest.

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