A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) Read Free Page B

stabbed at me. “Em, get me out of here.” They snatched up their purses and left the store.
    Jerry was leaning against a glycerin-soap display. “I need to file my report. You gonna be all right?”
    I nodded. “I’m going to call Ben.”
    “That’s a fine idea.”
    With that, he left me alone with the memory of the tragedy fresh in my mind. I sat down and did the next logical thing. I prayed. I didn’t know why this tragedy had happened, but I prayed for Charla’s family. What Melinda must be going through, her parents, and Robert, Charla’s fiancé. The thought of how they must feel made me want to cry. My sister, Diana, once told me I have the gift of empathy, if that’s a gift. Sometimes I don’t like the sensation of wearing someone else’s shoes.
    I shifted to safer territory and prayed that God would show me what to do next, that He would protect my business somehow—and my reputation. The petition made me feel shallow. But I’d worked so hard on Tennessee River Soaps. For once, I wanted to succeed in Greenburg.
    As I walked around the shop, I prayed, touching the bins of scoop-and-bag-it-yourself bath salts. I picked up one of the molded glycerin soaps. A pale blue background surrounded a taupe swirl that looked like a seashell. Maybe this is frivolous, Lord, but for once in my life, I believe I’m doing something right.
    My cell phone warbled before I got to amen. Ben!
    I punched the button. “Hey, hon, I’m sure glad it’s you.”
    “Jerry left a message, said I needed to call you immediately.” Already his baritone voice warmed me to my toes. “I just stopped for lunch. What’s goin’ on?”
    Once I explained what had happened, his response was stillness on the other end of the line. Ben borders on being the silent type, but even for him this was unnerving.
    “Ben?”
    “That’s horrible. How’s her family?”
    “Her sister’s taking it hard. Which is understandable.” My throat felt like I’d swallowed the sharp end of a potato chip. “Everything happened so fast.”
    “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think it was just that one scrub that killed her. I’ve heard some allergens build up in someone’s system over time, and one little thing could send them into shock.” Ben knew a little something about everything, his brain a virtual sponge.
    “Where did you hear that?”
    “I listen to a lot of talk radio on the road.”
    I wished I could reach through the phone and hug him. “I can’t wait till you get home.”
    “Well, I’m on my way back now. I should be in Jackson by ten, and hopefully in Greenburg by midnight.”
    “I’ll wait up if you want to call. I. . .I don’t know how well I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” I despised the quaver in my voice. But sometimes I needed a bit of rescuing, no matter how hard I tried to run things.
    “You want me to pray with you?”
    “Sure.” I listened to Ben’s words pass over me like a breeze, then waft their way to heaven. He was a definite keeper. Charla could have her polished young lawyer who went for manicures and moisturizers, but I’d hang on to my gentle giant with a buzz cut who’s a smidge rough around the edges. Except Charla didn’t have her young lawyer anymore . Oh, Lord, help her loved ones. And my attitude.
    “I’ll call you tonight, Ands.”
    “I’ll be waiting.” But I wasn’t done talking just yet. “You know what really bugs me?”
    “What?” I heard the weariness in his voice. He was probably thinking, Here goes Ands into one of her ramblings . Okay, so I liked to think out loud.
    “I know that scrub had nothing in it that Charla would have been allergic to. I mixed it myself, using the exact recipe Charla and I played with a month ago. She mentioned that she’d had reactions to strawberries, peanuts, and mangos. But this was cherry scrub.” I smacked my countertop for emphasis.
    “Baby, there’s just some things we can’t explain.”
    “Well, I know the scrub was fine. I refuse