Free Murder in the Aisles by Olivia Hill

lips together. “Fine,” she said on a breath.
    Elizabeth kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the service.”
    â€œOkay. Drive safely.”
    â€œYou, too. And relax…please,” she softly implored.
    On the ride home Felicia tried to follow Liz’s advice to relax. But relaxing was difficult for her on good days. And since Paul Dresden’s murder, she hadn’t had any real good days. With his memorial service looming ahead in the morning, her normal anxiety was kicked up a notch. Normally, working out helped. When that failed there was always Blake, who was more than happy to smooth her rough edges. However, the last time she had Blake over on a weeknight she found a dead body the next day. She’d just have to be sure to send him on his merry way. No sleepovers.
    Felicia pulled into her driveway and began to feel a little better about her options. Once inside she shed her heavy outerwear, changed out of her gym clothes and put on her silk robe. She turned on the electric fireplace and lit and placed scented candles in the living and bedrooms. In no time the townhouse was brushed with the soft scent of vanilla. She glided over to the stereo system, selected some of her favorite CDs by Leila James, Jill Scott, Leidsi and Kem and loaded them on the player.
    She took a look around. Perfect ambiance: crackling fire, aromatic scents, good music and her. She smiled.
    Now to call Blake. While he was on his way, she’d chill some wine and fix them something to nibble on besides each other. Just thinking about what Blake would do to her body had her wet with need. She felt the telltale twitch. She reached between the folds of her robe and tenderly gave her sex a pat. “Soon, baby, soon,” she crooned and then went to get her phone just as her doorbell rang.
    No one came to her house without calling first except Elizabeth, and she couldn’t imagine Liz showing up tonight. She put down her phone, tightened the belt on her robe and went to the door. “Who is it?”
    â€œDetective Rizzo.”
    Her heart slammed in her chest and her clit did a “let him in” Morse code dance. For a split second she couldn’t think straight. What was he doing here?
    â€œJust a second.” She unlocked the door but kept the chain in place and peeked out. “Yes?”
    â€œHey, uh, sorry to drop in on you, but—”
    â€œI know. You had to tell me something face-to-face,” she snarked. He grinned and the pit of her tummy fluttered in response. Why did he have to be such a sexy asshole ? She released the chain and opened the door. “Come in, Detective.”
    Mark stepped in past her and stopped just beyond the threshold. Felicia turned and landed dead center in the grip of his gaze. She breezed by him.
    â€œReady for bed so early?” he said while he walked behind her.
    â€œDo I really owe you an explanation when you pop up unannounced on my doorstep, Detective?” She stopped in front of the couch and faced him. “Have a seat.” She indicated the side chair with her extended hand. “Can I get you something to drink?”
    â€œWhatever you’re having,” he said, shrugging out of his overcoat.
    Her lips pinched. “Wine, then.” She marched off and retrieved the bottle of wine from the rack in the mini-fridge. “Would you take out two glasses from the Étagère?”
    â€œÃ‰tagère, so fancy,” he mumbled and held back a grin. “Sure.” He crossed the room to the glass enclosed cabinet, which was lined with sparkling crystal of varying sizes and shapes—all perfectly lined and arranged. He was almost reluctant to disturb the display. He plucked two wine glasses from the center shelf and closed the glass doors.
    Felicia was seated on the couch when he returned. The wine waited on the center of the glass and wood table along with a corkscrew. She gave him a look and then the