Free Slay Bells and Satchels (Haley Randolph Mystery Series) by Dorothy Howell Page A

me feel sorry for her. Maybe she was honest and sincere. I couldn’t tell for sure. Either way, I couldn’t hold back with Shuman.
    “Talk to Jasmine Grady,” I said. “She and McKenna were roommates. McKenna skipped out on her owing back-rent. It really left Jasmine in a jam.”
    Shuman jotted down the name.
    “Did you know McKenna was living with her boyfriend?” I asked.
    “Trent Daniels,” Shuman said. “I talked to him yesterday.”
    “McKenna moved in with him after she left Jasmine’s place,” I said. “According to Jasmine, the guy was crazy about her. She just wanted free rent.”
    “If McKenna was using him, he didn’t know it,” Shuman said. “Or maybe he didn’t care.”
    Or maybe Jasmine had made the whole thing up to throw suspicion off of herself.
    “Do you think he really loved her?” I asked.
    “I think he was a little weird. I’ve still got to run a background check on him,” Shuman said. He tapped his tablet. “Money troubles are usually the best leads.”
    We stood there for a couple of minutes, quiet, both of us lost in thought, then Shuman said, “I’d better go.”
    Activity in the parking lot had ceased. No more I’m-desperate-for-a-job employees pulled up, parked, and went inside. That could only mean I was late for my shift.
    “Me, too,” I said.
    Still, we just stood there looking at each other until we both realized what we were doing.
    “See you,” Shuman said, walking away.
    “Yeah, okay,” I said, and headed for the store.
    At the door I stopped and looked back. Shuman stood outside of his car watching me.
    My heart did another flip-flop, and I went inside.
    Already, the Christmas trees on display were lit. “Frosty the Snowman” played on the store’s public address system. The giant toy bag sat at the ready near the fake fireplace.
    I hurried back to the break room. No one was inside, not even Rita—I hate her. I thought that maybe I’d gotten lucky and she was late for work, too, but then I saw my name already written on the whiteboard.
    Damn.
    Yeah, okay, I was late for work because I’d been talking to Shuman in the parking lot, but that was way better than talking to him here in the store. I’d die—absolutely die—if Shuman or anyone else I knew caught me wearing that elf costume.
    I’ve really got to get a handle on my life.
    I clocked-in, stowed my tote—after I erased my name from the whiteboard, of course—and went to the elf dressing room down the hall. Mostly Holt’s employees were inside. The only actresses present were Alyssa and Nikki. My spirits dipped a little. None of the other actresses had come back.
    Everyone seemed to be in a good mood, talking and laughing, taking turns getting into their costumes behind the privacy curtain. Others applied makeup and styled their hair in front of the mirrors.
    “Hi, Haley,” Alyssa said. “How’s it going?”
    “I’m still not loving the costume,” I said, grabbing it off the rack. “Can’t you get any of your actress friends to come back to work?”
    “Not likely.” She leaned toward the mirror and applied bright red lipstick. “Not with that homicide detective outside the store.”
    I caught her gaze in the mirror.
    “You mean Detective Shuman?” I asked.
    I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that Alyssa remembered Shuman from the day of McKenna’s murder and recognized him this morning. First of all, Shuman was kind of hot. Second, Alyssa had probably never dealt much with a homicide detective. Both were good reasons for Shuman to stick in her head.
    “Does he have any idea who killed McKenna?” Alyssa asked.
    Immediately, I felt like I was a homicide detective myself—which was way cool, of course—and reluctant to divulge info about the investigation.
    “He’s following a number of leads,” I said.
    “Did he talk to Jasmine Grady?” she asked, turning to me. “She was majorly mad when McKenna ditched her owing back-rent.”
    “I’m not sure,” I