A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) (12 page)

The fact that Ben had reminded me of our wide suspect list didn’t help any. A woman who hated Charla enough to kill her. Sure, the police could drag in a lineup of women with grudges due to their own broken hearts—or the suffering of sisters or friends.

“I
am
on your side.” Ben stood. “Hey. I’d like to show you something. Be right back. Gotta get something out of the truck.” He left the patio and rounded the corner of the house closest to the driveway.

I inhaled the aroma of onions on the grill and closed my eyes. Whatever mood Ben had been in on the way to the market, it had passed. When I heard his returning footsteps, I looked in his direction. He stepped onto the patio stones, a catalog in his hands.

“What’s that?” I couldn’t make out the cover other than part of a roof set against some treetops.

Ben turned the catalog so I could see the front. “Er, it’s house plans.”

“House plans?” But I’d heard him right and no mistake.
Handcrafted Homes
proclaimed that inside its pages were fifty floor plans—“for the home of your dreams.”

He settled back onto his chair. “Yes. For the property I bought. I’m planning to get started on the house.”

As the pages turned, my stomach and heart both did somersaults.
House
. Ben wanted to build a house. Now. “So you’re going to leave Jerry’s, then?”

Duh. Of course, if he’s building a house.

“I’ve spent years like a nomad. But I’ve been praying and hashing the idea over a lot lately. Ands, it’s time I come home to Greenburg. For good.” I pulled the catalog across the table to give myself something to look at and to still my shaking hands.

Four bedrooms, three bedrooms. A cabin with a loft. “What do you think?” Ben touched a page that showed a three-bedroom floor plan with a kitchen large enough to toss a football in. “I really like this one. It’s got a big front porch.”

“I like it, too.” The house had two bathrooms, as well. Growing up at Momma and Daddy’s made me long for more than one bathroom in the house. “The kitchen’s huge.”

His smile calmed my roiling stomach. “I thought you’d like that one.”

I could only nod. “Jerry. . .he mentioned something to me about someone calling with a house estimate right before you got home.”

“Aw, I was going to surprise you.”

“Well, it worked. I’m surprised.” I felt a smile work its way across my face. “You were already checking on estimates?”

“To see what kind of financing I’d need, although I’d like to pay for it as I build. I still know some good general contractors, and I can save money by doing lots of the finish work and tile myself.”

Another nod from me. “This. . .this is a big change.”

Ben took my hands in his. “I know. Change is part of life, you know.”

“It’d be wonderful to have you home all the time. I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to. . . .” The strength in his hands worked its way up my arms, and my trembling stilled.
Ben. Home. A real life with him.

“It will.” Ben smiled. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you about the house first. I’m sorry Jerry said something.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I scanned the other pages of house plans. “I just wish. . .”

“Wish what?”

“You already seem like you’ve decided this.” My eyes burned. “I wish you would have talked to me sooner.”

Ben’s smile vanished. “You don’t want me to come home?”

“It’s not that at all. I feel. . .left out of the decision, maybe?”

“But you don’t seem to know what you want sometimes, so I didn’t tell you. And you seemed happy I’d bought the property.”

This was the last time I would give Sadie, or anyone else, relationship advice. If anyone had messed up communication, it was Ben and I. “I’m sorry, Ben.”

“And I’m sorry it seemed like I was planning all this without you.” He took my hand. “Believe me, I’ve thought about you through this whole process.”

My throat felt dry. “What will you do for work?”

“I’ve saved enough so I can maybe start my own business. Like you. I’m not sure, but everything will come together.”

“I hope so.” I forced a smile to my face. My usually safe Ben picks now as the time to get adventurous? He gave me a quick kiss before going to get the rib eyes from the refrigerator.

When he emerged a few minutes later, I’d managed to give myself a headache from sucking down half my glass of tea. The house with the front porch did look nice, though. Comfortable and not too flashy. Was this what I wanted?

“You’re still not happy about the house?” Ben sat down after putting the rib eyes on the grill.

“Ben.” I pinched between my eyebrows. “The one with the big porch is growing on me. But putting that aside. . .”

“What?”

“Have you ever been afraid you might miss out on something?” Unbidden tears pricked my eyes. “My daddy, he was a dreamer. And is. His dream didn’t come true. And I feel like us Clarks, well, we’re nobodies. Always have been. Almost-but-not-quites.”

“You know that’s not true. . . .”

I shrugged. “I read in the Bible about how God looks at us. I believe it. At least, I can say I do. But I feel like I’m bigger than this town—I mean, my dreams are.”

“Then why didn’t you leave?”

I let Ben’s question hang in the air between us as he went to check the grill, although a scant minute or so had passed since he put the steaks on.

“I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to prove to them I didn’t have to be like every other Clark—get married young, keep house, have babies, have no life beyond this town.”

“Andromeda Clark, I love you with every fiber of my being. I don’t care if you run a soap shop. If you want to move somewhere else, we can start our life there. So long as I’m with you.” He moved closer and pulled me into his arms.

Ben’s embrace tightened, and those traitorous tears came again. “I feel so silly, Ben. I’m sorry for frustrating you.”

“Don’t be afraid, Ands. God’s dreams for you are bigger than you can imagine,” he whispered in my ear.

Now if I could just convince myself of that.

When Ben left, the late-afternoon sun beat down on me and drove me inside the house to clean the kitchen. Instead of having trembling hands and butterflies over house plans, I felt empty. I’d tried to pray, but my words didn’t make sense to me. I knew the Lord could sort out my feelings. Wouldn’t it be nice if feelings came with switches that you could just flip off or change the setting when needed?

Practically speaking, I couldn’t understand what

Ben was thinking, leaving a high-paying job to come home to Greenburg. Don’t get me wrong. A truck driver’s expenses border on insane, but even driving a rig pays more than most jobs in Greenburg. Ben didn’t even ask me before buying the property, which still hurt just a little. I shuddered at thoughts of the unknown. But what about somewhere else? Maybe Ben was right. We could live somewhere else. The very thought was liberating. But I couldn’t ask him to do that. Jerry was here, my family was here, and he’d bought that property.

Then I stopped scrubbing an already gleaming plate in the soapy water. The verse about perfect love casting out fear came to my mind. I cringed as I recalled the last part of the verse, about whoever fears not being made perfect in love, because fear involves torment.

For the first time, I understood what could make Charla walk away from a guy. Maybe the girl had cold feet. I ought to have my head examined. Wasn’t this what I really wanted, deep down, despite my fears? Seeing Ben more often and building a real life with him?

Di would make a great set of ears. I gave up on washing the dishes and tried her house number, then her cell phone.

“Hey, what’s going on? The boys and I are leaving the pool. You should have come.” I could hear the roar of the car’s engine and my nephews’ chatter in the background. “I know, but Ben and I went to Chandler’s for some strawberries.”

“So what did you find out? Is Mike the one?”

“I don’t think Mike is our guy. From what Ben said and how Mike acted, I think Charla’s murderer was most likely a woman.”

“I was afraid of that.” Her voice changed. “Taylor—sit yourself down on the seat and get that buckle fastened—don’t you make me pull over!”

I jerked the phone from my ear.

“Sorry, Andi,” came her voice from the phone in my hand.

I settled the phone back to my ear. “No problem. Glad I’m on your good side. And I always wear my seat belt.”

“Just wait ’til you have kids.”

“Ha-ha. Can you do me a favor? Keep your ears open at the bank for anything about Charla.”

“Oh, the hotbed of town gossip. Yuck. I already told you I’m not good at finding clues. I sleuth vicariously through you.”

“You’ll know a clue when you hear it. Anything about Charla, Robert, or any of those people we’ve talked about. If I’ve got to weed through a patch of vengeful, jealous women to get to the truth, so be it. Of course I don’t want to stir up any rumors, but like I said, keep your ears open.”

“I still think Robert the fiancé was up to something,” Di said. “Why would Mike punch him and Robert not press charges? That doesn’t sound very lawyerish to me.”

“That’s true.” I rubbed my aching temples. A stress headache had begun its twisting journey across the tops

A Suspicion of Strawberries 121

of my eyebrows. “I feel like we’re looking at a bunch of little signs that add up to one big billboard of an answer, and I can’t figure out what it is.”

“Well, sleep on it, then.” Di’s voice sounded warm, almost like Momma’s. “Let’s talk about happier subjects. Like you and Ben. That’s getting better, isn’t it?”

“Ha.” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “He’s showing me house plans.”

Di’s squeal pierced my ears far worse than her stern momma bellow did. “Wow, that’s great!”

“Yes, and I dissolved into a puddle of tears. First I was a little upset, maybe still am, because Ben didn’t ask me. He makes all these decisions and doesn’t ask me until he’s already put plans in motion.” Now I sounded like a spoiled child.

“Hon, it’s not as if you acted like you wanted him to come home.”

“I know, but—”

“You’re scared.”

“I am.” The dishes had to be dry by now. I moved to the drainer to put the plates away. “I don’t like change. But I’m working on it.”

“So says the woman who’s had four businesses in the last five years.”

“Well, I don’t. I also like to succeed. Just call me an underachieving overachiever.”

“You firstborn are so driven.”

“I love Ben, I really do.”

“Then pray—and relax. Either you believe God can direct your steps, or you don’t.”

“Ouch.” I glared at the phone and put it back to my ear.

“It’s true.”

“You’re right. You are. You’re telling me everything I’ve been trying to tell myself, only I’ve had a hard time listening.”

“That’s your problem right there. Talking to yourself.”

I sighed. “Promise me you’ll listen at the bank?”

“I will.” Di paused. “We just pulled up to the Burger Barn. Talk to you later?”

“Sure. Thanks, Di.” I disconnected the call and placed the phone handset on the table. A murderer lurked in Greenburg, or so I believed. Someone who thought they’d gotten away with their deed. But they wouldn’t. Not with Di keeping her ears open, and not with me chipping away to find the truth.

Chapter Eleven

The next day, I had a bit of sunshine enter when Sadie brought her grandmother to Tennessee River Soaps.

“No, Nana, this isn’t the candle store at the mall; it’s Miss Clark’s store in town.” Sadie held her grandmother’s arm as the elderly woman took in the sight of the salesroom.

Ever since Charla’s death, Sadie had kept up her crusade to save the store by visiting twice a week and buying something, even if it was only a bar of soap. I couldn’t imagine how many bath fizzies the girl had stockpiled at home.

“Hi there, how are y’all doing this morning?” I moved from behind the counter.

“We’re doing great, Miss Clark.” Sadie beamed. “Nana wanted to go out today, so I thought this would be as good a place as any to bring her.”

“Everything smells so pretty.” Sadie’s nana ran her fingers across the wrapped glycerin soaps. “These look like flowers.”

“That they do.” At least someone appreciated the soap with its brightly colored insets that formed a daisy. “I hope they smell as good as real daisies.”

“Miss Clark, you’re still planning on chaperoning the youth-group picnic this weekend, aren’t you?” Sadie held a packet of bath salts up to her nose and inhaled. “I love this one.”

“Yes, I’m planning to be there. Ben will be, too.” My heart both leaped and shuddered at the thought. He was out on a short trip this time but would be back again in time to come with me to the picnic.

Sadie had quickly become one of my favorite students in the high school Sunday school class. Students like her made up for the ones who broke my heart, the ones who desperately needed to learn how to have a close relationship with God but pushed both Him and me away. Those were the ones I’d tried to reach out to so far this summer. Take Charla’s cousin Seth Mitchell, who’d managed to come the weekend before. Hopefully the upcoming picnic would encourage others to come. Like him.