Free A Custom Fit Crime by Melissa Bourbon Page A

his last name, walking out on Mama, my brother, Red, and me, when we were just young’uns. He’d found out about the Cassidy charm and that, as they say, is all she wrote. He left without a backward glance, and eventually they’d divorced. It had been more than thirty years since she’d been married, and she’d even taken her time telling me she was sweet on Hoss McClaine. But now that it was out in the open and she had herself a ring, there was no stopping her. They were getting hitched, and nothing—not even murder—was going to stop the wedding from happening.
    I left Nana and Orphie to finish cleaning up the kitchen while I went into my workroom. There was no question in my mind now that something sinister was going on in Bliss, and once again, it had come into my life, uninvited.
    The bells on the front door jingled and the door swung open. “I’m here!” Gracie called. “And I have treats for Earl Grey!”
    My sweet little teacup pig had been neglected since all the hoopla the day before, but Gracie would turn that around in no time. She loved Earl Grey as much as I did—maybe even more—and other than the fact that the piglet lived here with me, he was just as much hers and her dad’s as he was mine.
    “He’s out on the porch in the pen.” Will had made Earl an enclosure. It was the best of both worlds: It had ample room for a miniature piglet to run around and be free, all the while keeping him safe.
    Gracie was a typical teenager, minus the attitude. She had her moments, but for the most part, she was a great girl who loved school, her dad, and sewing. She threw her arms around me and gave me a big squeeze. “My dad told me what happened,” she said, letting go. “I can’t believe it. He was one of the designers? And now he’s dead?”
    “Not just dead. It looks like he may have been murdered,” I said, cringing as the words left my lips.
    She gasped, her lips forming a pronounced O. “Murder?” she whispered. “Are you sure?”
    “The sheriff feels pretty certain.”
    “Oh no.” She turned and paced, whirling around to face me again after she’d processed for a few seconds. “Are they going to close your shop? Are you okay? Did you see anything? Do they know who did it—”
    “Whoa, Gracie! Slow down.”
    She took a deep breath and regrouped. “Sorry, I just . . . it’s, like, crazy that this is happening.”
    I’d been saying the very same thing to myself over and over and over. Why was this happening, and why had it happened here in Buttons & Bows? I ticked off my fingers as I answered the slew of questions she’d thrown at me. “The sheriff took some things as evidence, but they’re not closing the shop. I’m fine. And no, I didn’t see anything, and as far as I know, no, they don’t know who did it.”
    She darted a gaze around the shop, settling for a second on Nana and Orphie in the kitchen, before dropping her voice and speaking in a shaky whisper. “They don’t think it was you, do they?”
    I gaped at her, sure that if a fly happened by, it would wing its way right into my mouth and I’d swallow it. Leave it to a teenager to cut to the chase. No hemming and hawing. No beating around the bush. Just right out with the questions gnawing at her gut. “Of course not, Gracie.”
    She shrugged, a sheepish look coming over her. “Thank God. I was worried the sheriff might think you had something to do with it since he died here. In your house,” she added, in case I hadn’t felt the full power of her statement.
    A shiver crept up my spine. I was speechless for a moment, because, truthfully, she was right and I’d felt the weight of that truth when I’d spoken to Hoss McClaine on the phone. He hadn’t said it, but now that Gracie had, I realized that I probably was suspect number one simply because of the unfortunate location of the dead body. “I’m sure they’ll find whoever did it, and everything will be fine,” I said.
    She gulped and bit her lower lip.