Free A Taste of Magic (A Sugarcomb Lake Cozy Mystery Book 1) by Alaine Allister Page A

about to walk into his house!  A teensy, tiny part of her was reluctantly grateful that she had run into Parker outside.  At least now someone knew where she was.
    Steeling herself, Clarissa entered the house.
    Upon looking around, she was immediately reminded of her own childhood.  The quarters were cramped but cozy.  Handmade quilts were everywhere – on the couch, the matching recliners and even on top of the coffee table.  The one on the coffee table was clearly a work-in-progress.
    A tired looking woman glanced up from where she sat on the couch, hunched over the coffee table.  She had a spool of thread in one hand and a tape measure between her teeth.  She spit the latter out and looked from Will to Clarissa and back again.
    “Dear, this is Clarissa Spencer,” Will said.  “She’s a reporter investigating Jed’s murder.”
    Dismay flashed in the woman’s bloodshot eyes.  It was clear she had been crying a lot – and not sleeping much at all.  The bags under her eyes and the way her shoulders slumped made her a pitiful sight. 
    “I thought we agreed, no more reporters,” she said quietly.
    She was probably hoping if she kept her voice down, Clarissa wouldn’t hear her words.
    But Clarissa did overhear.  She decided to speak up before she got booted out of the house. 
    “I actually live in Sugarcomb Lake,” she said.  “I’ve lived there all my life, except for when I went away to college.  I know your daughter.  You are Mrs. Babcock, correct?”
    The woman stood up, grimacing and rubbing her knee as she did so.  “Yes, I’m Helen.  You’re a friend of Bonnie’s?” she asked, her demeanor changing as she began to let her guard down.  “Sit, please.  Can I get you some tea?”
    “I’m fine, thanks,” Clarissa said politely as she sat on the couch.  Then, in an effort to put the couple at ease – and hopefully get them to open up to her – she added, “These quilts are really beautiful.  Did you make them all yourself, Mrs. Babcock?”
    “Oh, those...yes, quilting is a hobby of mine.  Right now it takes my mind off of things,” Helen sighed.  “As I’m sure you can imagine, I haven’t had a lot of sleep lately.  I need something to keep my brain occupied or I’ll go crazy.  I’ve been beside myself ever since we got the horrible news.  What’s happened to Bonnie isn’t right.  It’s a travesty!”
    Though Clarissa was there to investigate, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for the older woman.  Helen Babcock looked absolutely awful.  Her face was drawn and haggard-looking and the way she carried herself suggested she was utterly exhausted.  Clarissa found herself wishing with all her being that the poor woman could finally get some much-needed rest.
    “What’s really the travesty is the shoddy police work!” Will raged, pacing around the living room like a caged lion.  “Those lazy sons of guns want an open-and-shut case!  They don’t care about finding the truth.  They just want a conviction, and my daughter is the perfect scapegoat!”
    “Will, please try to calm down,” Helen pleaded, wringing her hands in distress.  “You know what the doctor said about your blood pressure.  I know this is stressful, but you have to try not to get so heated, dear.”
    So, Bonnie’s dad had a temper.  Good to know.
    “If those good for nothing cops would have heard us out –” Will hollered, his face turning red.
    “I’m here to hear you out,” Clarissa interrupted in what she hoped was a soothing voice.  She wanted to placate Will before he turned his anger on her and kicked her out of the house.  So she tried to refocus his attention.  “Please, anything you can tell me will help immensely with my investigation.” 
    What she didn’t add was that hotheaded, gun-owning father-in-law William Babcock was on her list of suspects.  It wouldn’t have been polite to bring that up while a guest in his home.
    Will grumbled but said