Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) (28 page)

That got his attention, and my brother’s gun
lowered, just as Frank’s hands went around my throat. “You’re not
my wife,” he snarled. “You tricked me, just like she used to.”

He looked at Bradford. “If that gun comes
up, I’ll break her neck like a dry stick.” My brother dropped his
gun on the pavement. As calmly as I could, I said, “Frank, I’m not
your wife, but I know where she is. If you let me go, I’ll take you
to her.”

“
Suzanne’s dead,” he said
in a voice devoid of all emotion.

“
No, she’s not. She’s just
been away, but now she’s back, and she’s asking for you. Let’s go
get her.”

“
Suzanne?” he said in a
pitiful voice. “I love her so much.” His hands dropped from my
neck, and I could feel the sting from his grip on my flesh. “She’s
not far,” I said as I took his hand in mine as led him toward my
brother. “Bradford will take you to her.”

After we had him cuffed and in the car, my
brother said, “That was too close for my taste.”

“
I know. One second he was
saving me, and the next he was trying to kill me.”

“
What is that all about?”
Bradford asked. “Did Anne Albright really try to kill
you?”

“
She did,” I said as I
looked back at her.

There was only one problem. During the
commotion, Anne Albright had slipped away. There was killer on the
loose in Rebel Forge, and though I finally knew who she was, my
family and I were in more danger than we’d ever been before.

“
Get in the car,
Jennifer.”

“
I can’t,” I said.
“Lillian’s in trouble.”

“
How do you know that?”
Bradford snapped.

“
It’s something Mrs.
Albright said. I’ve got to save her.”

“
Get in. I can get there
faster than you can.”

I did as I was told, and Bradford hit the
siren and the lights of his patrol car as he raced to Lillian’s
house. We’d have to get there in time. If something happened to my
aunt because of my snooping I would regret it with every breath I
ever took again.

Bradford barely had time to slow down in
front of her house before I jumped out and raced to the door. .

Lillian answered, looking a little startled.
“Jennifer whatever is wrong with you?”

“
Are you
alone?”

Lillian glanced back inside, then admitted,
“No, I’ve got company.”

“
If it’s Anne Albright,
get out of there. She’s the murderer.”

Lillian looked surprised. “It wasn’t the
daughter? I was sure it was Donna.”

At that moment, Anne Albright came tearing
of the bushes, the knife clutched in her good hand. She was
screaming as she neared us, and I could the murderous intent on her
face. I threw myself in front of Lillian as I pushed my aunt back.
I might not be able to save myself, but I was going to at least
give her a chance. Then I steeled myself for the attack. If I could
grab Anne Albright’s arm before she stabbed ne, and somehow manage
to hold her off, I knew Bradford was half a step behind.

Actually, he was closer than that. I could
almost feel the heat from Anne Albright’s hatred when she was
suddenly hurled sideways, the knife ripped from her grasp. Bradford
had made a running tackle that would have made a professional
football player proud, and before I could even react, my brother
had her face pinned in the grass, his knee planted solidly in her
back. He slapped the cuffs on her and said, a little out of breath,
“That should hold you.”

“
Where are you going to
put her?” I asked, motioning to Frank sitting in back of the squad
car. My knees were shaking, but I was going to hold it together, at
least until Anne Albright was safely locked up.

“
I’ll call for backup,” he
said. “She’s not getting away from me again.”

“
You saved me,” Lillian
said to me. “Bradford did that,” I protested. “Yes, but you pointed
him in the right direction.” Bradford said, “Yeah, we’re all
heroes. Now let me get my prisoners locked up before anyone else
gets hurt”

The next morning Lillian and I were back at
the card shop, both of us happy to have some normal routine to
return to. Melinda walked in and said, “I can’t believe Anne
Albright is a murderer. You never can tell about some people, can
you?”

I thought about how much I liked Melinda,
and how little I thought of her son. It was true; you never could
tell. “I suppose that changes things, doesn’t it?” I had her
invitations ready. The money had already been deposited, but I
couldn’t see the wedding going on now.

I was wrestling with my temptation to give
her a refund when she said, “Believe it or not, the kids want I get
married in spite of what happened. Donna told me this morning
nothing has changed. She still loves Larry and he wants to marry
her, as well.”

I handed her the box of invitations as
Melinda added “You won’t believe Donna’s reasoning.”

“
Try me,” I said. “Right
now I’ll believe anything.”

Melinda said, “She told me she and her
mother had already mailed the invitations out you made for then:
and she didn’t want to disappoint anybody. I wonder how Anne is
going to feel about that.”

“
Triumphant” was the first
word that came to mind, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud. “I
think she’ll be happy she won after all.”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
Think about it. She
claimed everything she did was to make sure the wedding actually
happened. She’s getting exactly what she wished for.”

That obviously troubled Melinda, but she
didn’t comment on it and I decided I’d already said enough. After
she was gone, Lillian asked, “So what’s next for us?”

“
I’d love to make a few
new cards for display.”

Lillian rubbed her hands together and said,
“Oh good. You wouldn’t believe what I came up with this
morning.”

From my aunt, the only thing I expected was
the expected. As she led me back to her latest creation, looked
around my shop and was glad, despite everything that had happened,
that I had taken the risk and opened a place of my very own.

I was going to turn down all offers to do
any wedding invitations for a while, though.

I just didn’t think I could bear dealing
with another mother of the bride.

Making Your Own Wedding Invitation Or

Any Card That Announces A Formal
Occasion

There are many ways to make your own
handcrafted greeting cards, from the simplest fold and cutout like
Jennifer uses in this book, to the most elaborate card imaginable,
chock-full of embellishments and adornments. You can even create
your own envelopes, but for most cards, I like to buy the basic
card stock and envelopes right off the shelf. They are available in
an amazing array of colors and hues, and many have the added
advantage of already sporting a crease. Following the card-making
theme of this book, I’d like to show you a quick and easy way to
make your own formal handcrafted card using premade adornments
available in just about any craft store. Since scrapbooking and
card making have many similarities, I like to browse the sections
filled with stickers, small collages, stamps and ornate lettering
when I need to make a formal card. For a wedding, there are even
small sewn outfits signifying the bride and groom that look just as
good on the front of your card as they do on your scrapbook pages.
Though it might get expensive buying such detailed adornments for a
great many invitations, they’re perfect for a small and intimate
ceremony. Simply peel the self-adhesive stickers off the back of
the collages and place them on the front of your card. Sometimes
the collage itself is enough for the front, but if you’d like to
add your own lettering, there are sheets of adhesive letters
available so you can send your very own message. I like to scan the
sticker aisle, because many times I can find the perfect message
already made for me.

To begin, I like to coordinate my
embellishments with my card stock. For example, a white wedding
dress will disappear on plain card stock, but a pastel green or
pink background makes it jump off the card. After I’ve got my
components, it’s simply a matter of laying out the card first
before I peel a single adhesive strip or drop that first touch of
glue. Now is the best time to play with your design. Don’t be
afraid to try something unorthodox. At this point, nothing is
permanent. After I’m satisfied with my layout, I do a rough sketch
of the card’s front, especially if it’s a complex design. This way
I know exactly where everything goes. I like to place my lettering
first, since the paper is still flat at this point and nothing gets
in my way. When that’s done, I add my embellishments and the front
is complete. Inside, I add whatever message I’d like. If it’s an
invitation, I like to print these out on my computer before I do
anything else, but they can be hand-lettered, as well.

It’s a true delight giving these cards that
you’ve crafted yourself, and I’m willing to wager that soon you’ll
be looking for excuses to make your next card.

And now here’s a peek at the first chapter
of the next card-making mystery by Elizabeth Bright

Deadly Greetings

By Tim Myers

Writing as Elizabeth
Bright

Chapter 1

I never really believed in
ghosts until Francis Coolridge tried to kill me two months after
she died. I’ve made a ton of handcrafted greeting cards for
hundreds of occasions, but never anything remotely like the one. I
wished I could create for her. I might head it
wish
YOU
were still dead
, or maybe
even
you’re invited to your very own
exorcism
, but I doubted either one would
do much good. It was pretty apparent that Francis didn’t want me
living in her apartment, and just as obvious I wasn’t about to move
out. We were at a stalemate, and while it was true that I was going
to have to get used to Francis’s presence, it also meant that she
was going to have to get used to mine. I loved my new quarters at
Whispering Oak, and it was going to take more than a scatterbrained
poltergeist to make me pack up my stuff and leave.

My name’s Jennifer Shane, and I own Custom
Card Creations, a small handcrafted-card shop in Rebel Forge,
Virginia. My business is on one end of Oakmont Avenue—a road that
runs through the heart of downtown—and my sister Sara Lynn’s
scrapbooking store is on the other. I’d worked for her at Forever
Memories before opening my card shop, but I loved being on my own,
even if I was just a sale or two away from the brink of bankruptcy.
Our brother, Bradford, is the sheriff for all of Rebel Forge, and
my aunt Lillian helps me out at the card shop. Sometimes the pluses
and minuses of living in a small town are one and the same. My
family is close, both in proximity and in our hearts, but it can be
stifling at times As the youngest of our clan, I often find myself
chafing against their desire to protect me, even though I know they
are motivated out of love.

“
What do you call that
ghastly hue?” my aunt Lillian asked as she came into the card shop
one morning. I was displaying a new shade of paper I’d made in my
small workshop in back, and I was proud of it.

Without glancing in her direction, I said,
“Don’t you like it? It’s called “Lillian’s Dream.”

“
It’s
more like a nightmare,” my aunt muttered under her breath; then she
waved a hand in the air to
dismiss
the topic. “But never mind that. You’ve got to close the shop and
come with me at once.”

“
Lillian, I’m barely
making enough to feed Oggie and Nash, let alone myself. I can’t
afford to shut the place down.” My cats, though not fancy eaters,
were finicky in their preference of national brands over generic
fare. Hoping to squeeze another nickel out of my budget, I’d tried
them on Stylin’ Stew and Jumpy Cats, but they’d refused to eat
either one.

Lillian flicked a strand of dyed henna hair
out of her face as she said, “You still hate your apartment, don’t
you?”

“
You know I do,” I said,
remembering what had happened there the month before that had
completely robbed me of my sense of security. Someone had made a
rather concerted effort to scare me, and they’d done a pretty good
job of it. The memory of the threat at my door lingered every night
as I tried to sleep.

Lillian nodded. “Well, I’ve got just the
place for you. We have to go now, though, before someone else grabs
it.” My aunt was a woman of action, proved by a string of seven
ex-husbands; she was only partially teasing when she said that she
was always on the look- out for number eight.

“
Do they allow cats?” I
asked as I slid the rest of the paper onto the display.

“
My
dear, they embrace them. Now let’s go.” After grabbing my coat, I
flipped the sign on the door to
back in fifteen minutes
and locked
up. Honestly, I had no idea how long we’d be gone, but I was hoping
whoever saw it would hang around, since I couldn’t afford to
alienate the few customers I had. “So where are we headed?” I asked
as we hustled toward her car, a classic candy-apple-red Mustang in
mint condition.

“
Have you ever heard of
Whispering Oak?” I thought about it a second before answering her.
“Wasn’t he an Indian guide around here two hundred years
ago?”

Lillian shot me one of those looks that
spoke volumes about her thoughts on my sanity, but I was being
serious.