AllFreeNovel
Share Us
* * *
This day sucked.
Jane stood before the entrance to the Treasure Room, hat in hand, after the wind tried to steal it with another sudden gust. On the drive over, she’d gotten stuck behind Raylon Thomas, who refused to go over the speed of nineteen miles an hour. She’d almost turned around and gone home after getting trapped in an honest to goodness traffic jam in front of the Golden Food Market. How could she have forgotten this was double coupon day? Now, she discovered the sign on the tea shop door read CLOSED. Had she mistaken the date of the meeting?
She was only six minutes early, rather than the planned and polite twenty-five, but… She checked her invitation. Nope. Today. She tested the knob. Unlocked. Hmm. Should she enter? Shouldn’t she?
Not knowing what else to do, she texted Conrad.
If I were invited inside a building at a certain time, but the window sign says closed and the door is unlocked, is it technically illegal to enter? No, don’t answer that.
“Better that I not know,” Jane muttered. She stored her phone and entered. A bell tinkled overhead as she examined the area. She expected to see the owner, Hannah Thorton, behind the counter, creating tasty treats. But the eclectically cozy shop was empty.
Shelves lined the store’s walls, each filled with jars of tea leaves or knickknacks made by some of the most creative crafters of Aurelian Hills. Scents of vanilla, lavender and zesty citrus hung in the air, and she breathed deep.
“Hannah?” Jane called, scanning. No sign of the now strawberry blond with her trademark messy bun. No sign of book club members, either. “Ms. Thorton?”
Silence stretched. Should she leave? Stay? Would her audience arrive any second, just as confused as Jane?
After waiting a few more seconds, she adjusted her purse and strolled deeper into the space. Her low heel pumps clacked against the tile. Where could everyone be? Oh! Duh. The top-secret room of course.
During Jane’s last murder investigation, she’d learned Hannah reserved a private space for select, high-profile members, of which Jane herself had never been. But. This was a special occasion, and she was most likely the guest of honor.
Head high, she closed in on the tall bookshelf. Mimicking Hannah, she gave a solid push. Yes! A portion of the shelf opened, providing a doorway. As she sailed inside, she wondered if she should start her speech with a joke. Cemeteries are so popular, people are always dying to get in.
Delicate piano music played over a hidden speaker, greeting her. Excited, and yes, more nervous, Jane blinked to adjust to the dimmer lighting. Her steps halted when she spotted the shattered remains of antique teapots. Broken cups littered the floor with sharp shards of porcelain. A vase the color of midnight had crashed, too, leaving crushed, pale rose petals in a spilled pool. Someone had attempted to soak up half the water with starched cloth napkins.
A small bowl of food and water waited under a side table in back. A litter box occupied the far corner. Hannah had a cat? Hmm. Surely a purrfect little kitty or two couldn’t have created this mess.
“Hannah?” At last Jane caught sight of her hostess. Relief washed over her. “There you are.” The Aurelian Hills entrepreneur who’d meshed a craft store, tearoom, and book nook into one of the town’s favorite spots sat in a hand carved Queen Anne chair at the sole dining table, slumped over with her cheek resting on a plate. Stealing a quick nap before the meeting? Needing a quiet moment before tackling the mess?
Jane closed the distance, approaching the older woman’s side—only to skid to a halt.
Her eyes went wide. No! No, no, no. Not again. She shook her head. But the scene remained the same. A blood splattered candlestick rested beside Hannah’s arm, which draped across a stack of papers. In her half-open hand lay a small envelope.
The envelope’s color gave Jane pause. A deep, rich purple. The same purple envelopes used in the previous case.
Plagued by tremors, Jane reached out and pressed two fingers into the hollow of Hannah’s neck. Please be a pulse. Please!
But there wasn’t.
Jane’s shoulders slumped. Was Hannah…murdered? Maybe. Probably.
Stomach churning, Jane turned her focus inward. She let facts sprout thick limbs inside her mind, forming a wall to keep the worst of her emotions at bay. This wasn’t the time to panic or cry, but to do what she did best. Examine the scene and photograph as much evidence as possible as she waited for Conrad to arrive. But first, she needed to call him.
She withdrew her cell from her purse and—gasped. Her friend, Lucy Chang, darted out from behind a wall tapestry, her expression fearful, and her mouth wide open, as if she prepared to scream.
A second later, a sharp pain exploded in the back of Jane’s skull. Her knees crumbled and her world went dark.
CHAPTER TWO
One adjective enhances. Five elevates.
Y’all Write Now–Advice for New Writers
by Tabby Paynes-Murksand
“Jane. Jane, can you hear me?”
