Paint the Town Dead Read Online Free Page B

bins to Doralee’s SUV. She and her gentleman had a long, romantic weekend to start, and I wanted to put my feet up.
    *   *   *
    The feet-up thing didn’t happen because there were still students and customers in the emporium. The wind chime Aster had insisted we use in lieu of a shopkeeper’s bell tinkled merrily as people came and went. The chime hung from the ceiling on a long S hook. The plan was to remove it when we expected heavy traffic, or during the demonstrations that would be held in the store, but we’d forgotten to take it down this evening. It was fine, though. The cheerful sound spelled shoppers spending money. No complaints about that.
    At nine fifteen, I showed the last person out. At nine thirty, I sent Jasmine home and locked the door behind her.At nine thirty-five, Detective Eric Shoar of the Lilyvale Police Department knocked on the door. Eric Shoar. The man who had semi-strong-armed me into coming to Lilyvale just weeks ago in April, insisting that I ensure that Aunt Sherry and her gang weren’t in danger of blowing up or burning down their farmhouse. They were not, of course, but Detective Shoar and I subsequently forged a budding relationship while solving a murder. Would the bud blossom? Too early to tell, because the man alternately miffed me and made me melt.
    Which was saying a heck of a mouthful since I’d had dated a lot of men. Okay, a lot of first and second dates followed by a parting of ways entirely or becoming just friends. Still, Eric tripped my trigger in a way no guy had in a long time. We had a dance of attraction going, but I didn’t seem to know the steps. I swung from feeling comfortable with him to a state of awkward hyperawareness. Of course, it didn’t help that he made his usual “uniform” of jeans, collared shirts, and boots sexier than all get-out.
    The wind chime sang as I let Eric inside and murmured hello. The Silver Six stood shoulder to shoulder behind the long glass-topped and fronted pine counter that had been original to the Stanton General Store. We displayed our most delicate items, or those that were most expensive, in the antique case, but no one gave a hoot about the goods at the moment. The Six avidly watched us, hanging on our every word.
    I don’t know why. They already knew we were friends and sort of dating. Okay, one real date.
    â€œNo more trouble tonight, Nixy?” Eric asked.
    â€œHow did you hear about that?”
    â€œI called him when Ernie pushed his way into class,” Eleanor said. I swear she had him on speed dial.
    â€œOnce he got here, the situation had changed,” Dab added.
    â€œBut he said he’d check back,” Aster offered.
    â€œAnd here I am.” Eric gave me one of those melting smiles, and my surroundings almost faded away.
    Almost. I cleared my throat. “That’s kind of you, Eric. The man who pushed his way in—Ernie—struck me as an egotistical jerk, but our gourd artist put him in his place. Doralee is his ex.”
    â€œGlad the situation resolved itself. Do you still want help hanging your grand opening banner tomorrow morning?”
    Oh, geez, I’d forgotten I asked him that a week ago when we were on the dinner date. One of those recent times I hadn’t managed to apply mascara to both sets of eyelashes. Aster had pointed it out before I’d gotten out of the store, but she hadn’t caught the very stylish streak of white paint in my brown hair that shampooing had missed. Blame it on my embarrassment. His offer to hang the sign had slipped my mind.
    But hey, I bluffed. “If you’re available, that would be great.”
    â€œEight o’clock?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œShould I bring a ladder?”
    â€œNo, we’ve got a ten-footer in the workroom.”
    Eric glanced at the emporium’s displays of art on the polished pine shelves and tables, and the hanging baskets. “We don’t