Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (17 page)

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Authors: Tim Myers

Tags: #card making, #clean, #cozy, #crafts, #elizabeth bright, #female sleuth, #invitation to murder, #light, #mystery, #tim myers, #traditional, #virginia

BOOK: Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)
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Wayne waved his hand at Bradford, then
walked away.

I said, “He’s been drinking. You know that,
don’t; you?”

My brother shrugged. “I can’t babysit all my
men, Jennifer. Wayne’s working his way through some problems. He’s
been like this the last couple of days but I’m hoping he snaps out
of it on his own.”


So you’re letting him
drive around town drunk?”


I doubt
he’s drunk, but what do you expect me to do, arrest one of my own
officers for having a drink
now and
then? They’re not Boy Scouts, Jennifer, you can’t make them behave
themselves when they’re off duty.”


I know that, but you can
keep them off the road when they’re drunk.”

He started down the
stairs, and I called out, “Where are you going?”


I’m going to follow him
home to make sure he gets there all right. I’ll be back in ten
minutes. Don’t start without me.”


What am I supposed to do
in the meantime?” I asked.


Guard the door until I
get back. I need to up with the photographs. Then I have to collect
evidence.”

Before I could protest, he was gone. Now
what? I couldn’t go inside, but I was tired of sitting on the
stairs waiting. I had half a mind to go in anyway and take my
chances, but I knew what would happen when Bradford got back, and I
didn’t want to have to tell my brother why I’d disregarded his
orders.

He was back sooner than I expected, carrying
a fishing tackle box in one hand. I asked, “Is something
wrong?”


No,” he said, shaking his
head as he put the box down and opened it up. “I was kind of hoping
Wayne would drive home a little slower and straighter than he did.
I’m going to have to have a talk with that boy first thing tomorrow
morning. Whatever is eating him, he’s going to have to just get
over it. Now, let’s get these pictures taken so we can
eat.”

Bradford shot a whole roll of film on the
door in no time flat, and after he handed me the camera, he removed
a large bag and a pair of pliers from his tackle box. I watched him
as he pulled the nail, then caught the wig before it could fall.
After both pieces of evidence were safely sealed and labeled, he
took a swab and dabbed at the lettering. I watched in surprise as
Bradford studied the end of the swab, then took a sniff of it.

He shook his head as he bagged that, too. I
wasn’t sure I really wanted to know, but I asked him anyway. “Is it
blood?”

HANDCRAFTED CARD-MAKING TIP

For nature lovers, it can be great fun
incorporating autumn leaves, bits of curled tree bark, even a flat
stone with interesting markings on it, into the front of your
card.

Chapter 12

Bradford rolled his eyes slightly as he
answered, “No, somebody used ketchup to write with. If that hadn’t
been nailed to your door, I would swear this was just a bad prank.
Why don’t you get some detergent and we can clean this right
up.”


I’ll be right back,” I
said as I went inside. Sari Lynn was fussing as she peeked into my
oven. The aromas coming from my kitchen were wonderful. Then my
sister opened her mouth and spoiled it. “Jennifer, your thermostat
is way off. You need a new one.”

I’d never noticed a problem with it, but
then again, Sara Lynn was a fussier cook than I was. “I don’t have
any trouble with it.”

I moved past her and grabbed a bottle of
clean and a handful of paper towels. “What are you going to do with
those?” she asked me.


I’m going to clean up
that threat before we get ants. It was written in ketchup, can you
believe that?


Don’t discount the
message just because of the medium,” she said. “We have a brother
in law enforcement. Let him do his job.”


For your information, big
sister, he asked me clean it up himself.”

Sara Lynn clucked at me. “Now don’t get
defensive with me, young lady. You know I only care for your
safety.”


Sometimes I wish you
didn’t care quite so much,” I said.

Sara Lynn’s eyebrows elevated, but to her
credit, she didn’t reply.

I went back outside and tried to hand the
cleaner to my brother. When he wouldn’t take it, I said, “Hey,
aren’t you the one who’s supposed to clean up a crime scene?”


It’s all been
documented,” he said. “Now it’s just mess on your door. Besides, if
word got back to Cindy that a bottle of cleaner fit my hand, she’d
never let me hear the end of it.”


You’re such a sissy,” I
said as I sprayed the door and wiped it clean. The only evidence of
what had been there before was a small nail hole in my door. “So
what do we do now?” I asked as I wadded up the dirty paper
towels.


Hopefully we’re about
ready to eat,” Bradford said.


I’m talking about this
threat,” I said. “And you know it.”


Jennifer, I’m doing all I
can. Just watch your step, okay?”

I sighed. “That’s all I seem to be doing
lately. I just hate the idea that somebody’s threatening me like
this.”


I’m not too happy about
it, either, but until we catch this woman, there’s not much else we
can do. Now, let’s go inside and forget about this for a while. I’m
starving, how about you?”


I suppose I could eat
something,” I said. “Just as long as it doesn’t involve
ketchup.”


Come on, what’s meat loaf
without ketchup? You’ll get over it pretty quick, I promise
you.”

We walked into the apartment as Sara Lynn
was transferring the meat loaf from the pan to a fancy platter I
didn’t remember I owned. “You two are just I time,” she said.
“Dinner is ready. You’ve just got me to wash up.”

Bradford asked me, “Where are your
roommates?”


They’re probably asleep
on my bed. Neither of them cares much for company.”


What a shock, antisocial
cats.” Bradford hovered over the meat loaf for a second, wafting
the smell into his nose. “Oh, man, that’s what Heaven smells like
to me. Is there any chance you . . . ? No, I’m sure you didn’t—it’s
okay.”

Instead of replying, Sara Lynn walked to the
freezer and pulled out a large glass of milk, crystals already
forming on the top of it. “Of course I froze some milk for you,
Bradford. I would never forget that.”

Bradford walked to her after she put the
glass down and picked Sara Lynn up in his arms. “You are the
best.”


Put me
down, you big oaf,” she said, laughing as she swatted him with the
dish towel thrown over one
of her
shoulders. He twirled her once in the air, then put her back down.
“Now wash up before the food gets cold,” Sara Lynn
commanded.

After we were seated, Sara Lynn said,
“Bradford, would you say Grace?”


Grace,” our brother said,
a huge grin on his face. That had been his joke in the family, one
he’d been swatted for on more than one occasion.

Sara Lynn said, “So you don’t want any meat
loaf after all.”

Gravely, our brother said the blessing, and
then the three of us set out to eat everything within reach. The
sharp ache of knowing that someone wished me had faded away in the
warm love of my family. We’d ways been close, and the next hour
reinforced why. I found myself hesitating to eat at one point, just
watching my brother and sister, loving the fact that were both
there with me now. Bradford noticed watching them and asked, “Are
you going to those potatoes?”

As his fork neared my plate, I swatted it
away with mine, something I’d grown adept at doing growing up. “You
had your share. These are mine.”


Come on, I’m wasting away
here.”


Oh, yes, I agree. I can
barely see you; you’re so thin.”

After we were finished, I pushed my plate
away. “I cannot believe all I ate. I’m stuffed.”

Sara Lynn asked, “Does that mean you don’t
have room for dessert?”


I’ll have hers,” Bradford
volunteered.


You don’t even know what
we’re having,” I said.


Doesn’t matter, if Sara
Lynn made it, I want some.”

She said, “Even if it’s coconut
pudding?”

Coconut was just about the only food in the
world my brother wouldn’t touch. He made a face, then said, “You
wouldn’t do that to me. Please tell me you’re joking.”


I didn’t realize you’d be
joining us,” Sara Lynn said. She watched his face pucker into a
frown until she added, “I can’t take it. I confess, I made banana
budding parfaits.”

Bradford’s eyes lit up like it was
Christmas. “Bless your soul, Sis. Like I said, I’ll eat
Jennifer’s.”


Hey, not so fast. I’ve
got room for a parfait.”


Of course you do,” Sara
Lynn said as she got out our desserts. It was obvious my brother’s
portion was twice the size of mine. “That’s not fair. Why does he
get more than I do?”

Bradford smiled as he dug his spoon in.
“That’s because I’m just a growing boy.”


Growing wider, you mean.
I’m telling your wife.”

Sara Lynn said, “Enough. Must you two revert
back childhood? There’s plenty for everyone.”

I took a bite, then said, “We’re not
reverting. You said I used to be the ones who squabbled all the
time, Bradford was the peacemaker of the group, remember?”


All too well,” Sara Lynn
said as she ate some of her own dessert. “This has been
wonderful.”


I agree,” Bradford said.
“We should do it once a week.”


You’re just trying to get
off your diet,” I said. He gave me his biggest puppy-dog-eyed look.
“That hurts, Jennifer. You know all I want is to be with my
sisters,” he said solemnly before he couldn’t hold it in any longer
and cracked up.


It has been great fun,” I
said. Bradford looked at his watch. “I’ll stay and help with the
dishes, but after that, I have to get home.” Sara Lynn said, “Go
on, you have our blessing. You need to spend some time with your
family.”


You two are my family,
too,” he said as he stood and kissed our cheeks in turn. “Thanks
for everything. I’m just sorry about the circumstances that brought
me here. Lock up as soon as I leave, okay?”


We will,” I said as I
walked my brother to the door. I thought about telling him about my
earlier conversation with Wayne, but I didn’t want to ruin the
festive mood of our dinner party. Instead, I said, “If you get the
chance tomorrow, why don’t you come by the shop so we can
chat?”


Is there something on
your mind?” he asked at the door.


Nothing that can’t wait,”
I said. I gave him a bear hug, and held on a little longer than I
normally would. “Thanks for everything tonight. I can’t tell you
how much it meant having you here.”


Hey, I was glad to do
it.” He patted my shoulder then added, “Don’t worry, Jen. We’ll
catch her.” I just nodded, then dead bolted the door after he was
gone. As Sara Lynn and I did the dishes, we had the chance to talk
about anything in the world, but I was glad we spent the time
reminiscing about our childhood rather than discussing what was
going on at the present. Our conversation reminded me of everything
right and good in my life, and for just a little while, I was able
to lock my troubles away.

The next morning, I was ready to get started
on the abhorrent wedding invitations when I was surprised to and
Melinda Spencer—the mother of the groom— waiting for me as I
approached Custom Card Creations.


I hope I’m not too
early,” she said as I approached.


No, by all means, come on
in.” I unlocked the door, let her inside, then dead bolted it
behind me. Having one customer inside was bad enough; I wasn’t
ready for any walk-ins thirty minutes before I was due to
open.


I was hoping we could
have a quick lesson before you open for business this morning,”
Melinda said. “I need something to take my mind off these wedding
plans.”


I didn’t realize you were
so involved in them,” I said as I prepared to open.


That’s the problem. Poor
Donna doesn’t even have a say in most of the things being arranged.
I’ve heard if bridezillas before, but it can’t be anywhere near as
bad as a mother of the bridezilla. You can’t imagine the
bridesmaids’ dresses she’s picked out. I can’t even fathom what
kind of invitation she’s chosen.”


I’ve got a pretty good
idea,” I said.


Oh, dear, she’s
commissioned you to do them, hasn’t she? Jennifer, I’m sorry; I
didn’t mean to imply that your work is less than delightful.” I
shook my head. “You will after you see them.” I grabbed my
choices—the fireworks theme and the brass fittings card—and showed
them to her. Melinda took the cards from me and said, “Why, they’re
perfectly lovely. I should have known you would come up with
something nice, just seeing the samples in your shop.”

I’d posted several different cards on the
walls, including step-by-step instructions on how to make them,
hoping they would inspire neophytes afraid to make that first card.
“Don’t get your hopes up. Mrs. Albright chose something a little
less traditional.”


More modern than these?
Do you have a sample?”


I do, but I’m not sure I
want to show it to you. To be honest with you, I was hoping to talk
her out of it.” The last thing I wanted to do was to face the
groom’s mother with the Bad Art Deco invitation.

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