Free A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) by Lynette Sowell

floor, brimming with inventory.
    “Don’t look so happy.” I sank onto the stool behind the counter. “If business were better, you’d be taking longer.” As it was, my Saturday morning rush had already come and gone. All two of them.
    “Wish you were paying me by the hour?”
    I shrugged. My stomach growled, too soon for lunch.
    “What is it?” She leaned closer. “What’s wrong?” We have a unique role reversal, my sister Diana and I. Her listening heart helped me through my rocky teen years and young adulthood, and I helped her not take herself too seriously.
    I sipped my coffee and sighed. “Remember when I suspected someone tried to murder Charla by sabotaging my facial scrub? Well, now I’m sure of it. And I’m sure the lab is going to take forever on testing the scrub, since Charla’s death was ruled an accident. But after what I heard Mike Chandler spew at Honey’s the other day, I’m going to keep looking around on my own.”
    I outlined the whole scenario for her, from finding the strawberry seeds in the scrub, to hearing Mike at Honey’s. Like Ben, Di let me ramble on, only punctuating my story with a few sympathetic “ummhmm’s.” Her eyebrows would have shot to the ceiling had they not been firmly attached to her forehead.
    “Wow.” She started to pace the store. “So, let’s put on our Hardy Girls’ caps again.”
    “I thought you didn’t want to be the Hardy Girls.”
    “I changed my mind after this latest development. From what you said, Mike’s not someone who’s merely disgruntled, but someone who seemed genuinely tickled pink that Charla died.” Di strode past me and into the back office. Her voice trailed to the front. “Okay, we’ll make a list of suspects.” She emerged with paper and pen, then hopped onto the stool next to mine.
    “First, we list the bridesmaids. Hang on, I’ve got the list from Charla’s party.” Now it was my turn to trot back and forth from the office. “Here it is. . .Melinda, Emily, Tess, Mitchalene. And the fiancé, Robert. He’s not on the list, but he knew about the party. Put Mike down, too.”
    Di jotted on the paper. “What about that woman you heard in the bathroom after the funeral?”
    “Kaitlyn, in the slingbacks. . .” My stomach turned. “I don’t know. She sounded more bitter than murderous.”
    “I’m adding her to the list anyway.” Di studied the ceiling as if it would help her remember the woman’s name. “Kaitlyn. . .”
    “Branch.” I shrugged. “She didn’t have access or immediate knowledge of the spa party. . .that I know of. I still say the fiancé and the bridal party are the most likely ones. Sometimes the people you think you’re closest to can hurt you the most.”
    “I say we start with the fiancé.” Di circled his name. “This could have been a crime of passion.”
    “True. But why kill her the week before their wedding?” I doodled a scroll with leaves on the paper.
    “Cold feet.”
    “Ha. Breaking up is easier than murder.” I shook my head. At that, my cell phone warbled and I snatched it from the counter. Ben!
    “. . .checking in. . .” The sound of an engine roared in the background. “I miss you already.”
    “I miss you, too. So where are you?” I knew enough to guess about where he’d be, but I liked hearing his voice.
    The bell over the front door clanged, and a pair of ladies entered. I smiled at them and shot Di a nod. She moved across the shop floor and greeted them.
    After a moment of static, Ben answered. “About halfway to Phoenix.”
    Halfway to Phoenix. So I was right. “Hurry home, but be safe.”
    “I will. I’ll call you when I stop.”
    “I’ll be waiting.”
    When I hung up the phone, Di was showing the pair of women the Build-a-Basket-of-Soap offer. She also pointed out the coordinating scents in bath fizzies.
    I stayed back and watched. She moved effortlessly and chatted with them as if they were old friends. I think one of them worked at the town