Free Little Shop of Homicide by Denise Swanson Page A

Bunco.”
    “Last door on your left.” The woman dimpled up at him. “If she’s not ready to go yet, feel free to come back and keep me company.”
    “Thanks.” He touched the brim of his Stetson and followed her directions.
    Stopping just outside the party room, Jake peered through the half-open door. He was in luck. The game must have just ended because the women were gathering their purses and coats and exchanging air kisses.
    It wasn’t hard to spot Anya Hamilton. Devereaux had described her as willowy, with straight sable hair to her waist, hazel eyes, and painstakingly stylish clothes. Jake wasn’t sure what color sable was, but the brunette Barbie with crow’s-feet had to be her. He was a little surprised to see the laugh lines. Women like Anya Hamilton didn’t tolerate wrinkles. He shrugged. Maybe she’d been snowed in on the day of her last Botox appointment.
    Anya and another dark-haired woman were among the last to exit. As the others passed them, a petite blonde paused and said, “I know how devastated you must be, darlings. You two and Joelle were like triplets. Call me anytime you need to talk.”
    Jake took in Anya and her companion, wonderingwhether to try to speak to them both. Devereaux hadn’t mentioned the other woman, but maybe she wasn’t aware of Joelle’s additional “sister.”
    Anya and her friend were bringing up the rear of the group when Jake effortlessly cut them from the herd. He patted the tiny canine poking out of Anya’s oversized purse and asked, “What’s this little guy’s name?”
    She giggled. “
Her
name is Bonbon.”
    “My bad. I guess the pink bow and jacket should have tipped me off.” Jake flashed a repentant grin. “Can I buy you two a drink to apologize?”
    Anya looked him up and down appreciatively, then said, “I’m available, but Gwen has an appointment. Don’t you, darling?”
    Gwen narrowed her eyes, but said, “Yes.” She excused herself and walked away. Throwing Jake a flirty smile over her shoulder, she added, “Maybe next time.”
    Jake took Anya’s elbow and guided her toward the bar he had passed in his search for the Bunco room. It was empty, and as they entered, the bartender quickly fumbled with the remote, shutting off the TV.
    Once they had ordered and were settled in a booth by the window, Jake said, “I overheard your friends mention that someone had died.”
    “Yes.” Anya’s expression saddened. “My BFF was murdered last Saturday night.”
    “Murdered?” Jake forced surprise into his voice. “Around here?”
    “In Kansas City.”
    “Oh.” Jake paused as the bartender served their drinks. “Was she mugged?”
    “No.” Anya touched a manicured hand to the back of her hair.
    Jake noted Anya’s gesture and recognized it was calculated to make him think she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say, when in fact her eyes glowed with titillation.
    “It was a sex crime.”
    “Really?”
    “Yes.” Anya’s voice held a note of excitement. “My friends and I think the killer was her fiancé’s ex-girlfriend. Everyone says she was horribly jealous when Joelle and Noah got engaged.”
    “Interesting.” Jake took a swig of beer to hide his annoyance that Anya and her crowd were already lining Devereaux up to take the rap for Joelle’s murder. “Did the guy break up with his ex in order to date your friend? I mean, being dumped would definitely give that woman a possible motive to kill her.”
    “Well…” Anya sipped her apple martini. “Not exactly. But still.”
    Jake made a noncommittal sound implying agreement, then asked, “So you and Joelle were best friends?” He put his bottle of Corona on a coaster. “Did you go to school together?”
    “No.” Anya wrinkled her nose. “Joelle only moved here last summer, but the minute we met, we just clicked and became immediate besties.”
    “Did you have a lot in common?” Jake took her hand. “Was she as beautiful as you are?”
    “Well, I’ve been