Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B

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