Raspberry Mojito Murder: A Donut Hole Cozy Mystery - Book 20 Read Online Free

list of suspects.”
    “Jeremy Hill?” Amy grunted and shifted
on the sofa. “You can say that again. He was hiding something.”
    Heather spun to face her bestie. “You
felt it too?” She picked up the remote and paused Shrek mid-barrel roll and
mayhem.
    “Oh yeah. And what did his wife mean
‘no more trouble’? That was weird.” Amy flicked a blanket over her legs, then
grabbed a throw pillow and beat it with the sides of her hands. “She was super
hostile too. Like, too hostile unless she’d had some pretty bad experiences in
the past. Ooh! What if he cheated on her?”
    “Not our business if he did. And that
doesn’t seem to relate to the case. No, I think their problems have to do with
Quick Paul. That’s what puzzles me. The connection. The fear.” Heather rubbed
her palms together to warm them up.
    “So where to next?” Amy asked.
    Heather tapped her chin, then pointed
at her bestie. “Oh, you’re gonna like it.”
    “Uh oh, what do you mean by that?”
    “We’re going to see Bob at the Bug
Debunker’s store.”
    Amy grinned broadly. “Ah, Cheetos for
everyone!”
    Heather chuckled and sat down on the
sofa. Lilly padded into the room, followed by Dave, and placed a bowl of
popcorn on the coffee table. “Extra butter,” she said and flourished her hands.
    “Are you trying to make me fat, Lilly
Jones?” Amy asked.
    The girl giggled and helped herself to
some of the buttery goodness.
    Heather smiled at them, then lifted
the remote and played Shrek again. Action exploded on the screen, but Heather
didn’t focus on it.
    Leads and possibilities clogged her
mind. A hazy fog to sleuth through.

Chapter
6
    Heather stared at the plastic bug
which served as the store’s doorknob. She pulled her lips to one side and
wriggled them, then sighed. “I know you think this guy’s a hoot, or whatever,
but –”
    “Ol’ Bob? He’s the best. Come on. The
guy made a living off bugs. And would you look at that van?” Amy pointed to the
van parked out front. The massive bug sat on top of it and glinted in the
sunlight.
    A breeze twiddled its antennae.
    “He’s got style.” Amy clasped her
hands in front of her chest. “A true visionary.”
    Heather narrowed her eyes. “You’re
teasing me, aren’t you?”
    Amy tapped the side of her nose, then
grabbed the bug and opened the door. The scent of citronella hit them full on.
    Heather reeled and pressed her fist to
her nose. Amy coughed and stumbled through the invisible haze of chemicals.
Okay, so citronella was an essential oil, but this was beyond comfortable.
    Dizziness assaulted Heather, and she
grasped the counter to keep from toppling over.
    “Welcome to the –” Bob looked up from
his game of whatever it was on his phone. “What do you ladies want?”
    “We’ve got some questions that need
answering, Bob,” Amy replied.
    “Uh huh. This about dead Paul?” Bob
asked. He’d never been one to mince words. Perhaps the citronella smell had
crept through to his brain and shorted the neural pathways responsible for
sensitivity.
    “Quick Paul,” Heather corrected.
    Metal clamored at the back of the
store, and Heather studied the shelves. Nothing.
    “That’s what I meant. The dead guy.
Yeah, yeah, before you say anythin’, I know you know that I was ‘sposed to meet
with him.” Bob stifled a yawn. “He came in here a couple of weeks ago, spouting
all this hoo-ha about business and making money, so I made and appointment with
him.”
    “And did you see him?” Heather asked.
    “Nope. Turned up at his offices and
everything but he wasn’t there. Waste of my darn time,” Bob replied, then bent
and brought out a packet of Cheetos.
    Amy’s gaze lit up and she shuffled
toward the exterminator.
    “You’re talking about Quick Paul’s
murder,” a man said, behind them.
    Heather spun toward the store’s
shelves, packed with all types of tinctures and poisons.
    “Oh hey, Peter. I forgot you were
here,” Bob said and popped open his bag. He