Free Thank You For Not Shifting (Peculiar Mysteries Book 2) by Renee George Page A

peonies added more splashes of color. Near the mailbox was a large wisteria bush, and the day's heat had the sweet odor clinging to the air. The splendor only added to my trepidation. I didn’t want to do this, be the one who comforted Ruth in her time of need. I wasn’t sure I was strong enough to hold up for her.
    Buck up, I told myself. I didn’t have to be strong. I just had to pretend to be long enough to help my friend. Ruth had been there for me after my rescue, and I’d been damned if I would allow myself to act like a coward.
    The screen door banged open, and a small tawny-haired boy ran out the door. He nearly ran me down as he passed. “Linus!” I said.
    He turned his head back to look at me, a cheeky smile on his face. “Gotta go, Aunt Chav. He shook a handful of coins in his pants pocket. “Mom said I could go down to Riverfront Street. They got some carnival booths set up with games.” He was small for his age, only eight-years-old now, and I wished I could freeze-frame the look of joy on his sweet face.
    I smiled at him. “Go on then.”
    He rose up on his tip-toes in a quick moment of triumph and took off down the street in a sprint. My stomach hurt. I almost turned around and headed out as well. Why was this happening to such good people?
    I shook my head as I thought the question. Bad people did bad things to good people all the time. Being good didn’t make a person immune to evil. Shivering, I rubbed my upper arms. This murder had been evil like I’d never seen, and I’d seen more than my fair share.
    I stared at the screen door. Linus hadn’t closed the main one. There was a light on, and I heard a soft whimper. Ruth . My heart broke even more. I lifted my shoulders and straightened my back, and by making myself place one foot in front of the other, I headed toward the house.
    When I got the screen, I opened the door and said, “Ruth.” I stepped inside and let the door close behind me. “Ruth. It’s Chavvah.”
    She appeared in the hall by the living room, her eyes and nose both red, her usually flawless skin, blotchy. She sniffled. “What are you doing here?”
    “I wanted to be here for you.”
    She looked at me, mild surprise in her grieved expression. “Who told you?”
    Oh, God. She didn’t know I’d been the one to find the body. How much had Sheriff Taylor told Ruth? “Are all the kids out? I just passed Linus.”
    She nodded. “Dakota and Michele are with my parents in Branson for the day. The rest are down on Riverfront Street for the Jubilee. I already texted Emma Ray and told her to keep an eye out for Linus.” She sat on the arm of the divan, her delicate features making her appear fragile, but I knew she wasn’t.
    Ruth Thompson was one of the strongest women I knew.
    “I found the…” I shook my head and tried again. “It happened at the restaurant after closing last night. I found … I went outside to take the trash and … I wish the sheriff would have told you.”
    She gulped, her head bobbing as if nodding agreement. “Do you think it’s him?”
    I shrugged, the gesture wholly inadequate for the situation. A sweet smell wafted in from the kitchen. It had a strange but familiar bite to it. “What is that?”
    “What?”
    “The smell?” I followed the scent into the kitchen. Ruth made her family breakfast every morning. I know, because I often joined them. The room always smelled of home cooking. Not today. Instead, it was the spicy, sweet, and pungent scent I’d smelled the night before. I let my coyote slip forward and inhaled deeply. Strangely, my senses seemed sharper, more acute and I nearly gagged as the scent-memory took me back to the scene of the murder.
    “Chavvah, tell me what you’re trailing?” As a deer shifter, Ruth’s olfactory senses weren’t as developed as mine, but how could she not smell this?
    I spotted a clear jar filled with what looked like wood chips about the color of raw almonds. “What is that?”
    “Sassafras