Honeymoon To Die For Read Free

Sara Lynn’s favorite.
    “The upright freezer just needed a new cord. It went to a raptor rescue center in North Georgia. Daddy’s proud o’ that.”  Bianca continued with her progress report as she looked up into the brown leaves clinging to the giant oaks scattered around the area, at a few lingering patches of color in this part of the Appalachian Mountains, anywhere but toward her best friend.
    “I’ve got an entire pallet of Raggedy Ann dolls in the garage. They didn’t even hardly get wet when the Walmart roof leaked. The boxes are toast, but the dolls don’t need much except new dresses. Sewin’ is your job.”
    Or it had been.
    Bianca stopped in her tracks. She couldn’t slide back into her native mountain speech pattern. Not even here.
    She finally gave up and sat down on the ground, crossing her legs as thunder grumbled closer. “I better not leave here wet this time, Sara Lynn.”
    Leaves rustled as the chilly, early October breeze kicked up, but no other sound. Not even a bird chirped.
    She hated the silence more than anything.
    Missed the times when Sara Lynn would give her a shove and say, “Don’t be a wus, BB.”   BB for Bianca Brady. Sara Lynn had started that in grade school and she was the only person Bianca allowed to get away with that, or with calling her a wus.
    She missed Sara Lynn spending hours with her in Daddy’s barn, refurbishing old furniture, appliances, toys—anything that could have a second chance—to give to somebody who needed it.
    Bianca had a knack for seeing the value in something discarded and enjoyed the challenge of bringing it back to life. Her daddy had taught her how to work with her hands and use all kinds of tools.
    Sara Lynn thought Bianca could do anything.
    Bianca reached out and touched the cold granite headstone, squinting back another tear. “I thought I could do anything, too, as long as I had my best friend beside me. I hate celebrating your birthday here, dammit.”  A tear slid down her face. “God, I miss you so much.”
    Sara Lynn would swat her for taking the Lord’s name in vain.
    “I’m not holding up my end of the business right now, but I’m a bit busy. I’ll get back to it when this job’s done. I miss fixin’ things almost as much as I miss you.”
    Sara Lynn claimed Bianca was drawn to all things damaged and abandoned, including people.
    She’d only said that because Sara Lynn had been an outcast until the day Bianca met her in fifth grade and claimed Sara Lynn as her best friend ever . Bianca still didn’t understand why others had never looked past the maroon birthmark that covered more than half of Sara Lynn’s face, her full figure or her kinky orange-red hair to see the loving soul inside.
    Or the mind capable of running a Fortune 500 company.
    The day Bianca handed Sara Lynn a small dollhouse Bianca had cleaned up and repaired in her daddy’s backyard shop, Sara Lynn had burst into tears at the gift.
    Bianca’s throat tightened at the memory.
    Even after high school, Sara Lynn had always been there with her, spending nights and weekends refinishing discarded furniture in the tiny living room of their ground floor apartment. When they had a load ready, they’d run it back to Thatcher for their neighbors.
    When Bianca was recruited out of college to work as an analyst at Quantico, Sara Lynn moved home to work for her church. But Friday afternoons at five, Bianca would head south on I-81 to spend her weekends with her best friend.
    Until two years ago.
    Bianca fingered the charm bracelet on her wrist. The six charms and bracelet links were shiny once again.
    She’d rubbed a blister on her finger the first time she polished the second-hand jewelry and gave it to Sara Lynn for her sixteenth birthday.  
    The tear slid down Bianca’s face. She wiped it away and sat up straight.
    This should be like any other day on the calendar, but it would never feel that way unless she could turn back time. If she had that ability,