Free Picture Perfect Murder (Ryli Sinclair 1) by Jenna St. James Page B

grabbed a bottle of cinnamon from my cabinet of spices.
I’ll show her who can’t cook!
    “So what do you two civilians have so far?” Aunt Shirley
grunted as she hoisted her oversize purse onto my dining room table. I figured
it had to weigh ten pounds easy.
    “Aunt Shirley, you’re a civilian, too. You were never in the
military.”
    Shirley narrowed her eyes at me. “You don’t know all the
things I’ve done in my life. The private eye gig was just the tip of the
iceberg.”
    I rolled my eyes.
    “Well,” Paige smoothly cut in, hoping to stop another
ridiculous fight, “we already made a list of the possible suspects.”
    I listened half-heartedly as they discussed the case,
focusing mostly on flipping and preparing pancakes. When I had a plate full of
piping hot cakes, I carried them and some maple syrup to the table.
    “Here’s where you’re going wrong,” Aunt Shirley said. “It’s
not someone associated with the school.”
    “How can you be so sure?” Paige asked.
    “What major event has just taken place at the school?” Aunt
Shirley asked as she took three pancakes from the plate.
    “Nothing I can think of,” I said as I went to get milk from
the fridge.
    “Exactly my point. One of the first things you do when
profiling a murderer is ask yourself what’s the stressor. Something big has had
to happen to make the murderer want to start murdering.”
    Hmmm…that sounded good. Maybe Aunt Shirley was going to be
handy after all.
    "Also, now is not the time to kill someone so
influential just for sport. This murder has crippled the school district. No
one that works for the district would do something so drastic to the whole
community. If they were going to kill her, they'd do it right after the end of
school. Gives everyone time to find a replacement."
    Disturbing to think about...but I got her meaning.
    “And why the fingertips?" she continued. "It’s
saying more than just she didn’t have a heart. It’s more personal.”
    I watched her smother her pancakes in butter and maple
syrup, spreading it evenly over the top. She cut a huge chunk off with her fork
and stuffed it in her mouth.
    Miss Molly wondered into the living room, winding her body
slowly through my legs, meowing loudly. I knew what that meant.
    “Hold on, Miss Molly, I’ll get your food in a second.”
    I picked up a knife from the table and started to open the
cardboard box I’d dropped when we all came in. Odd, there was no return address
on the box, just my name. I reached in and moved the packing peanuts aside. I
hated those things…they’re always clinging to my clothes and hands.
    I lifted the square, glass container out of the box and
shook off the last of the clinging peanuts. I heard the “tink tink” sound of
the contents hitting against the glass, but it wasn’t until I heard Paige
screaming and saw her bolt from her chair that I realized something was wrong.
    As if in slow motion, I brought the container up so I could
easily peer through it. When my mind finally caught up with my eyes, I let out
a blood-curdling scream so loud it hurt my throat. I was staring at a heart and
three fingertips with Cherries in the Snow nail polish on them. I quickly
dropped the glass container on the table, which caused even more tinkling
sounds to fill the air.
    Miss Molly jumped onto the table and began batting at the
glass, as if she were trying to catch a mouse. Every time she moved the container
with her paw and it made a tinking sound, I heard myself scream even more.
    “For the love of God, could you two sissies stop screaming? You’re
giving me a headache.”
    I looked over at Aunt Shirley calmly eating pancakes and
felt myself starting to gag. How in the world could she be eating at a time
like this, didn’t she know what was inside the container…and how weird was it
that I knew the nail polish color. I mean it was my favorite color and all, but gross !
    By this time Miss Molly had ceased to be entertained by