Bananas Foster and a Dead Mobster Read Free Page B

good a place to start as any..
    The wheels in my head start turning. A mobster murdered at a small town farmers' market with a stolen chef's knife. The man in the pinstripe suit, a.k.a Gino Milani, had a reason for being here. It was no accident. He had a reason for visiting our stand for a free sample of Bananas Foster.
    And to be stabbed with my knife…it has to be someone I know.
    That knife rarely leaves my side.
    "Follow me," I mutter, walking toward the soap stand. My eyes dart from slices of soap cake to a stack of pale peach soap bars labeled with a sticker that says certified vegan . I wipe away beads of sweat before gently picking one up. I get a whiff of the peachy fragrance.
    "Are these hard to make?" I ask.
    "Not if you have a few hours to kill," one of the women answers. She seems to be the friendlier one of the pair, and she pauses from her duties to greet me with a smile. "Not to mention a pantry stocked with fragrance oils. We use a mixture of almond oil, castor, coconut, and—"
    "Bonnie," the other woman scolds her. I can see the resemblance between the two of them. Their ashy brown hair hangs in strings near their cheeks, and both of them look as if their faces have seen way too much sun and not enough sunscreen. The only difference is the way they're dressed. Bonnie is wearing a long, wavy skirt and a vest made of yarn that looks like a pile of unused tea cozies sewn together. A wilted flower sits behind her ear. One she probably picked this morning by the side of the road.
    "Excuse my sister," Bonnie interjects. She resumes packing up their supplies like it's no big deal. "Mary Frances doesn't like it when I reveal secrets of the trade." Bonnie's sister, Mary Frances, is more formally dressed in white capris and a summery top. She nudges her sister.
    "Those are hardly secrets," Mary Frances replies. "Sorry, we're closed, dears."
    "Can we still take a look?" I pick up a lavender bath fizz—a hardened ball of powder meant to fill the tub with scented bubbles.
    "I'm afraid not," Mary Frances answers. She narrows her eyes when she looks at me. The same way she did when she watched me talk to Detective Reid. "The police have made it clear that we're supposed to close early, and we have a schedule to keep."
    "Certified vegan," I repeat from the label of a bar made with peppermint and sage. "What does that mean exactly?"
    "No animal fats or by-products are used," Mary Frances informs me, snatching the bar away. "Our products are completely cruelty free." Bonnie quickly takes it from her hands, ignoring a rude glare from her sister.
    "This particular bar is perfect for stress relief," Bonnie says. "I use it a lot." She tilts her head toward Mary Frances.
    Bree looks through merchandise, ignoring Mary Frances. She studies the white and green layers of a soap slice meant to resemble lime and coconut cream pie. Bree smells the slice and nods. She moves on to the cupcakes and runs her fingers over the firm frostings. Some are even glittery.
    "Orange and sweet rose, classic birthday cake, strawberries and champagne, cranberry spice… How do you make the tops look like frosting?" Bree asks. She holds a classic birthday cupcake soap in the palm of her hand. The base of it is rainbow colored with a tall swirl of glimmering vanilla soap frosting.
    "A trick of the trade," Bonnie says. "We thickened our mixture just enough to pipe it from a pastry bag. It's not so different from baking."
    "Only you can't eat the finished product," I add. "Maybe you should look into soaping, Bree."
    "It would solve my little muffin-top problem," she comments, pinching the sides of her hips. "I need to get rid of the extra spreadage."
    "Have you tried matcha green tea?" Bonnie says lowly. She glances back at her sister, who shakes her head while adding up the cash in her lock box. "It worked well for a friend of mine."
    "Yes." Bree sighs and looks at me. "I ended up using the powder to make homemade ice cream. That doesn't count, does