Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  “So why are you here?”

  “I wanted to let you know that we haven’t found I anything that might relate to the call you got at the card shop. I don’t know. I kind of thought it might case your mind.”

  I kissed his cheek. “It helps, it really does. Thanks for coming by.”

  “You’re most welcome.”

  “Listen, would you like to join me for breakfast? I’m just getting ready to eat.” I’d been planning to have a yogurt for breakfast, but if my brother could come over and check on me, I could make him some eggs. I knew his wife had him on a strict new diet, but I figured a little real food wouldn’t hurt him.

  “That sounds great,” he said as the radio on his belt suddenly squawked.

  “Sheriff, are you there?”

  He answered it. “Right here, Jody. What’s up?”

  His deputy said, “I need you at 136 Elm right away.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “We found a body, Bradford. She looks like she’s barely out of her teens. It’s pretty bad.”

  My brother said, “Don’t touch anything. I’ll be right there.”

  As he hurried to his squad car, he said, “Sorry, Sis, I’ve got to go.”

  I nodded and watched him drive away. There was a knotted fist in my gut as I found myself wondering if it was the woman I’d heard scream the day before.

  Sara Lynn was waiting for me out front when I got to my card shop. “Wow, when you say early, you mean early,” I said as I unlocked the door and let her in. The mail had already come—pushed through the slot in the door and scattered on the floor—and I gathered it up and laid it on the counter as I flipped on the lights.

  “I didn’t want to interrupt you during regular business hours,” she said as she looked around. Most likely Sara Lynn didn’t want to be away from her business if it was open. I’d been dreading the day my sister finally stepped into my shop; I knew that under her scrutiny all of its flaws would be exposed. I watched her walk around, studying everything, not giving away the slightest emotion as she did so.

  “I love it,” she finally said, and I felt the relief rush through me. “It’s really quaint. Jennifer, you’ve done a wonderful job.”

  “Let’s hope my customers think so,” I said.

  “They’ll come; don’t you worry about that. Have you planned any grand-opening sales events of advertising? I can help there, you know.”

  “I thought I’d take a few days to work out the bugs before I made any formal announcement to the world.”

  “Don’t wait too long. Now is the time to strike, while your store is brand-new. I’ve got some wonderful ideas on how to promote your shop.”

  I could see the wheels turning in her head. I wasn’t about to let my sister take over my card shop, as much as I loved her. “Don’t, Sara Lynn.”

  “What? I can’t help my baby sister?”

  “I can handle it myself.” I glanced at the clock. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready to open your own shop?”

  “Goodness, look at the time.” As she started for the door, she turned back to me and said, “This discussion isn’t over, young lady. I can be a valuable resource for you, and I’m not going to let you squander it.”

  “Bye,” I said, not trusting myself to say anything else. There were some great things about being the baby of the family, but sometimes they were all outweighed by my siblings’ desire to run my life for me. I was going to have to stand firm and keep saying no until it got through to Bradford and Sara Lynn that I was going to do this on my own, whether it meant roaring success or dismal failure.

  After Sara Lynn was gone, I was officially open for business, but customers hadn’t been waiting in line to get inside. The stack of mail was still sitting on the counter, but I couldn’t imagine that there was anything but bills and unwanted solicitations in the pile. If the past few days had been any indication, I wouldn’t have much to do all day, so I decided to save the mail for later. I couldn’t start working on the Albright wedding invitations until I spoke with the mother of the bride again. She’d made a deposit, but I still had no idea what she wanted. That didn’t mean I couldn’t make a few cards of my own. I browsed through the shop with a basket, pretending for a moment that I was a customer instead of the proprietor. I decided to make a card without any intention of selling it, just for the joy of the creation. I chose a burgundy paper I’d made myself, and grabbed another sheet of shimmering silver I’d bought, a gel pen, some scissors, a couple of punches and a nice selection of star stickers. I lingered over the selection of pressed flowers and thought about adding a violet. I was really interested in botanicals at the moment, even pressing my own flowers when I had the chance, but I decided this card would be flowerless.

  I’d positioned a small table near the front window where I’d laid out a selection of cards as a display. Since it didn’t seem to be drawing anybody in, I gathered everything together and put it all on the checkout counter. What a perfect work space the table made I could look out along Oakmont once I moved my chair there, and I found that the height was just right for working. I folded the two sheets in half after marking them, then trimmed both pieces with stirrup pattern scissors, making the burgundy sheet an inch smaller all around than the silver. Using one of the punch outs, I made a few balloon-shaped holes in the burgundy paper; then the paper was ready to glue to the backing. Silver balloons seemed to float in the burgundy field. How lovely! I still wasn’t sure what the theme of the card was going to be—something I usually made certain I knew before I even chose my paper—but I could always come up with something. I was still considering the possibilities when the front door of my shop opened.

  “May I help you?” I asked.

  An elegantly dressed young woman in her thirties came inside. She studied my card and then said with a Boston accent, “That looks lovely. I was walking by your shop and saw you working through the window. Tell me, is it difficult to do?”

  “It’s the easiest thing in the world,” I assured her. “Here, sit down and I’ll show you.”

  “I’m sure I couldn’t,” she said, but from the way she was looking at my card in progress, I knew she wanted to.

  “You’re in luck; I’m giving free lessons today. Now, what kind of card would you like to make?”

  “Well, my mother’s birthday is coming up soon, and I’d hoped to find something special for her.”

  “You came to the right place.” I offered my hand, “I’m Jennifer.”

  “I’m Leslie,” she said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Leslie. Tell me a little about your mother so we can make this the best card she’s ever gotten in her life.”

  We spent a pleasant half hour making her card, and by the time Leslie was finished, she’d told me more about herself than she had probably ever mentioned to her hairdresser or her priest. Crafts were funny that way. People really opened up when they were happy and busy doing something productive. Leslie left the shop with a great deal more than her mother’s complimentary birthday card. She’d chosen a wonderful selection of products and supplies from the shop, and I decided after she was gone to make up a few more kits just like it.

  When I’d opened the Three Cs, I’d had folks exactly like Leslie in mind. Sharing my love of cards was what it was all about for me. I was still feeling the joy from her visit when I decided it was time to tackle the mail.

  One letter stood out from the rest. There was no stamp, no postmark, not even an address on it. “JENNIFER” was the only thing printed on the front in large block letters.

  Inside, it said, “Forget what you heard or you’ll be next.”

  Chapter 3

  At first I thought it had to be a mistake. There was only one thing I’d heard in the last twenty-four hours that the note could possibly apply to, but what was I supposed to forget about that haunting phone call I’d received? I replayed the young woman’s words in my mind before her scream. I didn’t have any trouble coming up with the exchange; I
doubted I’d ever forget it. She had said I had to tell the other woman the truth, that she would believe me. When the young woman realized I wasn’t Donna, there had been an air of resignation in her voice just before her final scream. I couldn’t think of anything I’d heard that would be a threat to anybody. But then I remembered that the killer had walked in during the middle of our conversation. She wouldn’t know what I’d been told, I would she? The killer, whoever she was, probably thought I knew more than I did. And then I thought of something that chilled my heart. The note had been dropped off at my card shop. That meant that the killer knew who I was! She must have hit the redial, button after the earlier call. That’s when I remembered the hang-up right after I’d identified myself and my shop’s name. At the time I’d written it off as another rude sign of the times, but now I was firmly convinced that a murderer had been on the other end of the line, and worse, she was looking for me. I started to punch Bradford’s cell number on my phone when I saw his squad car pull up in front of the store. For once I was glad to have him checking up on me.

  The second he walked in the door and spotted me, he said, “Jennifer, what’s wrong?”

  I handed him the note. “This came with my mail this morning.”

  Instead of taking the letter from me, he said, “Just put it down on the counter.”

  I did as I was told, and he put on a pair of rubber gloves he had stashed in his pocket. “Where’s the envelope?”

  I gestured to it on the floor where I’d dropped it after reading what was inside. “It didn’t go through the mail. Somebody put it in my slot. Bradford, my fingerprints are all over that letter and the envelope, too. I probably ruined whatever evidence there was on them.”

  As he carefully collected both pieces of paper, he said, “I’ll make a deal with you. You don’t tell me how to run the sheriff’s office and I won’t teach you how to make cards.”

  “This is tied in with that telephone call—it has to be. What did you find out about that girl? Is she mixed up in this?”

  “I’m not ready to say anything about that just yet.”

  “At least tell me who she was.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t do that, Jen. I’m sorry.”

  I frowned. “Why not? Is it part of your precious police procedure? Are you going by the book when you should be easing my mind about all of this?”

  “Jennifer, the reason I won’t tell you who she was is because we haven’t been able to notify her parents yet. Is that all right with you?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “Of course you’re right. But Bradford, I’m not exactly an uninterested party here. That note proves it.”

  “Believe me, I’m not happy about it, either. Why don’t you move into our guest bedroom for the next few days? Cindy would love to have you, and the kids would be bouncing off the walls with joy.”

  “Thanks, but I can’t. Sara Lynn made the same offer, cats included, but I’m not going to run and hide. Besides, if this mad-dog woman wants me, she can always find me here at my shop.”

  “Jennifer, I can’t afford round-the-clock protection for you if you don’t cooperate. This is serious.”

  “Do you think I don’t know that? I’ll be careful, Bradford, but I’m not crawling into a hole. Don’t worry. I’ll take precautions.”

  He rolled his eyes. “What are you going to do, bring your two furry bodyguards with you to work?”

  “With all this paper just waiting to be shredded? You’re out of your mind. I’ve got your old baseball bat by my bed. I can bring it to work with me, then take it home at night.” I bit my lip, then said, “I can’t stop thinking about that poor girl. Was it bad?”

  “It was pretty tough to see.” I felt a shiver run through me. “I’ll be careful. I promise.” I knew my brother was always overprotective of me, but at that moment, I was kind of glad to have him looking out for me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t take care of myself—I could—but sometimes having him watch my back was good, too.

  He sighed, then said, “I’m sorry, but carrying a baseball bat’s not good enough. I’m going to keep an eye on you for the next few days whether you like it or not” “Bradford, be reasonable,” I said as I gestured outside. “Nobody’s going to come into a card shop with the sheriff on duty at the counter and his patrol car parked out front. You’ll destroy my business before it even has a chance to get started.”

  “And which do you prefer, being ruined or being dead?”

  “I’d like to avoid both of them if I can.”

  He thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “How about if I stay in the back? Would that suit you?”

  “And what is Rebel Forge supposed to do while the sheriff is babysitting his little sister?”

  “Jennifer, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  I thought about it, then came up with the answer. “I’ve got it. I’ll call Aunt Lillian. She’s been complaining that she’s bored with her life right now. She can help out here at the card shop and keep an eye on me at the same time.”

  Bradford said, “You’re kidding, right? Do you honestly think you’re going to be safe because you’ll be under the protection of our crazy old aunt? Sis, you’ve lost your mind.”

  “Hey, Lillian has had seven ex-husbands; she knows how to handle herself. One of them was a karate instructor, remember? We’ll be fine.”

  “Please tell me you don’t honestly believe that. She’ll be so busy looking for husband number eight, she won’t have time to watch out for you. Karate or not, I still don’t like it.”

  “Well, it’s the most I’m willing to do.” I grabbed the telephone, and Bradford said, “You mean to tell me you’re calling her now?”

  “There’s no time like the present.” I dialed our aunt’s phone number as my brother shook his head in utter disbelief. He always underestimated Lillian, something a lot of folks did. She was the original source of Sara Lynn’s strong will, and I would rather have my aunt watching out for me than the entire Rebel Forge police department.

  After I got her on the phone, I said, “Lillian, are you still bored with your life?”

  “To tears, my dear,” she said. “Save me from this desolate existence.”

  “Come work for me at my card shop. I can’t afford to pay you anything, but on the plus side, I think somebody’s trying to kill me.”

  There was a whoop of laughter on the other end. I knew I could count on you. I’ll be right there.”

  “She’s coming,” I told Bradford as I hung up the telephone. “Problem solved.”

  “So why don’t I feel any better? You don’t mind if I check this note for prints, do you?”

  “Go right ahead,” I said. As Bradford started to leave, I asked, “You’re not hanging around? She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

  “That’s why I’m leaving now. Don’t worry. I’ll stay outside until she gets here, but then I’m taking off. Those screeching tires you hear will be me.”

  “Sissy,” I said as he left.

  Just knowing Lillian was on her way made me feel better. Since our folks had died, she had been a constant source of amusement and support for the three, of us. It would be wonderful having her at the shop; with me. My aunt prided herself on marrying well and divorcing even better. She’d dyed her hair red even since I could remember, claiming that with her temper, it was too good an opportunity to pass up. There wasn’t anything in the world we couldn’t handle together, even a killer on the loose in Rebel Forge.

  As I peeked out the window waiting for Lillian to arrive, I saw my brother in earnest conversation with Jody Jeffords, one of his deputies. Jody was in blue jeans and a T-shirt, and judging from his tousled hair, and the way he kept rubbing his eyes, I was willing to bet that my brother had summoned him from a dead sleep. They both turned in my direction, so I ducked back behind the edge of the curtain and watched them. Jody studied the shop for a few seconds, bought a newspaper from one of the vendors across the way, then wandered off down the street
. He finally settled on a bench in front of Dot’s Ices Cream Palace, a name much grander than the tiny shop merited. As Jody opened his paper, I noticed that it was upside down. That was some crack surveillance team watching over me. A part of me wanted to protest my overprotective brother’s action, but another part was glad he was the sheriff. That note had bothered me more than I’d been willing to admit to; him. It wasn’t exactly a death threat, but it was closes enough for my tastes. True to his word, Bradford got into his patrol car and left thirty seconds before Lillian pulled up in front of my shop in her vintage candy-apple-red Mustang convertible.

  I held the door for her as she approached, and Lillian ducked into my arms and gave me a bear hug squeeze. “It’s been forever since I’ve seen you, Jennifer. Let me look at you.” She grabbed my cheek.

  “You need more exercise; you’re getting plump, girl.”

  “So we’re playing that game today, are we? Now is it my turn to tell you what you need?” She frowned for a second, then burst out laughing.

  “It will be good for me to spend some time with you here. So what’s this about someone wanting to kill you?” With just a little too much excitement in her voice, she added, “Do you think I’m in danger, too?”

  “This is serious,” I said. After I told Lillian about the telephone call and the note, she grew somber.

  “Don’t worry about this, Jennifer. We’ll keep an eye out for each other.”

  “We have help, too.” I pointed to Jody sitting on the bench, his newspaper still upside down. “That’s our police protection.” As I said it, the paper drooped in his hands, and I could see that Jody had fallen asleep.

  Lillian said, “Oooh, I feel so safe. Should one of us go wake him?”

  “Let him sleep,” I said. “In his defense, he probably worked all night.”

  Lillian dusted her hands. “Fine. Now enough of this chatter. Teach me to make cards.”

  As I led her to the table that had become my demonstration area by serendipity, I said, “You know, I’ve been expecting you to show up ever since I opened.”