Cropped to Death (Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery) (25 page)

TWENTY-NINE

Linda stalked toward me, her right hand behind her back, lips pressed together and brows drawn low over her eyes.

I forced out a friendly, non-suspicious smile. “Hey! I’m glad to see you. You did a great job hanging up the layouts.”

Linda whipped her hand from behind her back. She pointed a pistol at me. “Put your hands on the counter.”

I gaped at her.

“Don’t act surprised.” She tightened her finger on the trigger. “Hands on the counter. Now.”

I complied. I had finally figured out the culprit, but felt no satisfaction in being right. 

“It’s good no one remembered Marilyn’s key.” Linda shook the gun at me. “Her mother had no problem giving it to me. It was nice someone trusted me. You never did.”

“That wasn’t a lack of trust, Linda. It was a lack of cash. We couldn’t afford to get another key made.” I inched my hand toward my cell phone.

“Hands on the counter and keep them still.” She stomped a few steps closer.

I pressed my hands back onto the countertop. Linda destroyed all the layouts. She must have been afraid one of the photos from the art show would prove she killed Michael. The Hooligans searching for their mom must have scared Linda. Made her realize there could be proof of her whereabouts, or lack thereof.

“Come out from behind there.” She waggled the gun at me. “And keep your hands up.”

I raised my hands and walked around the counter. “Why did you kill Michael?”

“Don’t play dumb, Faith. You know exactly why. Does it really matter anyway?”

She had a point. Dead was dead. And murdering someone for any reason, unless it was self-defense, meant prison. Of course, killing two people upped the number of years on a person’s prison term.

I tried talking sense into her. “We can’t let Marilyn go to prison for something she didn’t do. Think of her children.”

“You should have stayed out of this.”

“And I would have, but you blamed Marilyn.” Not to mention the small guilt of ratting out a friend.

“I didn’t!” Tears plopped from Linda’s chin to the floor. “I sent Annette Holland over to Michael. I figured the police would blame her, find her next to him. What kind of man flaunts his girlfriend to his wife?”

I remained silent.

“I knew what kind of man. The kind of man who said lies about my husband. Lies that stole my son from me. He moved away because he couldn’t handle the gossip about his father’s death.”

I started to feel bad for her, actually wanted to hug her, but kept my hands in the air.

She raised the gun and aimed at my head. “Why did you steal my layout?”

I noticed Linda knew as much about guns as she did scrapbooking techniques. Not much. The safety was on. “I’m sorry Michael hurt you and said those horrible things about your husband. He was wrong.”

“I can’t go to jail.” She sobbed. “Just give me the layout Darlene made. That’s all I want.”

She thought I still had one piece of evidence proving her guilt. “I don’t have it. The police do.”

“You’re lying.”

“So are you.”

She gaped at me and her hand shook.

“How stupid do you think I am? Now that I know you killed Michael, you won’t let me walk out of here.” I knew she couldn’t shoot me, but she could still attack me. I needed something to defend myself with.

And thanks to Ted, we didn’t have any dangerous scissors on the shelves.

The back door rattled. Linda pivoted toward the storage area. 

Shrieking, I charged Linda. The two opposing noises, people ramming through the back door and my banshee scream, confused her. She fumbled with the gun, fingers twisting and turning as she tried pulling the trigger. She pressed the trigger back. Nothing.

Confused, she stared at the gun. I grabbed her around the waist with one arm and reached for the gun with my other hand. Wrapping my left leg around her right leg, I tugged with more strength than I knew I had. We both fell to the ground. My elbow smacked the floor and pain shot up my arm, but I held on so tight it was like we were duct taped together.

Linda struggled under me, wailing, screaming, desperate to keep the gun in her possession.

I ducked as she swung the gun at my head. I pinned Linda with my forearm and yanked the pistol from her hand.

Breathing heavily, I tossed it to the side.

“Police! No one move!” Ted, Jasper and Steve filled the room.

I kept Linda flattened on the floor. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to play with guns? You’re lucky you didn’t kill yourself.”

“Faith, are you okay?” Steve dragged me off of Linda. Ted yanked her to her knees, then cuffed her. I pushed strands of hair out of my face and dusted off my pants.

“She couldn’t have hurt me. The safety was on.” I stood. “She killed Michael.”

“We know.” Steve and Ted exchanged a look.

“Isn’t that great?” I jammed my hands on my waist. “You both knew and neglected to tell me my employee was a murderer.”

Ted rolled his eyes. “Look how well that worked with Marilyn.”

Jasper led the wailing Linda out the back door.

“I’ll be right back,” Roget said, following Jasper and the criminal mastermind.

The adrenaline in my body evaporated. Lightness filled my head and I swayed.

“Want help?” Steve wrapped an arm around me, drawing me close.

“I need to sit.”

Steve lowered us to the cool tile floor, now wrapping both arms around me.

For a moment, I allowed myself the luxury of basking in the safety and snuggled into his embrace. My eyes drifted close and I wished I could stay there. Steve smoothed a hand down my hair then rested his cheek on top of my head.

“I should’ve listened to you. Thank God Roget’s brother did.” He whispered into my hair. “She could’ve…” He cleared his throat.

I forced my lids opened and looked at Steve. The feelings he had for me were clear in his eyes. I took in a deep breath. “You can’t like me like that.”

A small smile flashed on Steve’s face then faded. “And why not?”

“Because it would hurt you if you did.”

He trailed a finger down my cheek. “It hurts me when I pretend I don’t.”

It was time. See if he stayed or went. “I was almost a convicted felon.”

“Then maybe I should look into working for a defense firm. I’ll change careers. I can be a carpenter. A private eye.” A light sparked in his eyes and he placed a quick kiss on my lips. “Don’t worry, Roget wouldn’t have arrested you. I think he finds your interference a little amusing.”

I didn’t elaborate, allowing Steve to think I meant Ted. Now wasn’t the time for confessions. Besides, I’d rather let things continue as they were: friendship with a soul-shaking kiss every now and then.

I pushed out of his embrace. “Don’t do that.”

“What?” He pulled back and traced a finger around my mouth.

“That. And get into the detective business. Trust me, it’s a lousy job.”

“Remember that the next time you think about getting involved in a case.” Steve stood and helped me up.

“I seriously doubt there will be a next time. How did you and Ted figure out it was Linda?”

“I wanted to help out by making a layout for your contest. I went through my pictures from the show and noticed some near the scene of the crime. I took the memory card to Roget and he enlarged the area.”

“And he saw Linda.”

“Yep. Then Bob called and we came straight here.” Steve nodded toward the front window. “There’s also the fact Annette Holland saw it all through the window.”

Annette’s nose was pressed against the glass. She waved to me and held out her cell phone.

Bright and early the next morning, Marilyn raced into Scrap This. “Thank you!” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed.

I hugged back, then gently pried her grip from around my neck. “You’re welcome.”

No sooner had I escaped her clasp, Sierra pushed past me and hugged Marilyn.

“I’m so glad you’re back. Let me tell you what’s been going on here.” Sierra draped an arm around Marilyn and bumped me out of the way with her hip.

So that was how it was going to be. Well, Marilyn was grateful for my sleuthing, so she’d give me the opportunity to tell her the real story.

Darlene maneuvered around us and hung up the new entries that trickled in. Being down two employees, and short on cash, convinced my grandmothers and me to accept Darlene’s offer of free help.

Over her head, my eyes caught the sight of a handsome assistant prosecuting attorney. Steve wore faded jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, a hint of tattoo showed where his t-shirt bunched up from holding a motorcycle helmet under his arm. On a work day. Steve was revealing another side of him. Maybe there was more “bad boy biker” to him than I knew.

My heart twittered and then spun out of control when I spotted Ted standing in the corner. He stared at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

Hank and the Hooligans had arrived with a balloon bouquet and a cake. “Heard there was a need for a party. Welcome back, Marilyn.”

“I knew I could count on you,” Sierra rushed over to her husband and linked arms with him. The happily married couple shot a glare at me, then focused on Marilyn, all smiles and laughter.

“Good job, Miss Private Eye.” Steve placed one around my shoulders and the other around my waist and reeled me into his arms. He frowned when I remained rigid.

“I didn’t do such a good job.” I nodded toward the newcomers.

“Sierra will come around. Give her time.” Steve tipped my chin up, his gaze devouring my lips.

“My grandmothers are watching,” I whispered.

Laughter rumbled from him. “I don’t think they’ll mind.” Seriousness deepened the chocolate brown of Steve’s eyes. “Do you?”

Ted saluted me and walked out the door. My emotions felt like a roller coaster. Up and down, fast then slow, high in the air with anticipation and then plummeting to the ground in dread.

Steve cupped my face in his hands and lowered his mouth to mine. 

Behind us, two little boys made retching sounds while a third burst into tears.

“But I cleaned up all the mess,” Henry wailed. “I thought Miss Faith liked me best.”

Reader’s Discussion Guide

1.  Faith finds herself guilted into helping a friend. Have you ever been in a similar situation and how did you react?

2.  Do you think Faith’s decision to keep her past hidden stops her from moving past it? Do you think she is being unfair to her friends and family by not allowing them the opportunity to help her through it? How do you think her keeping her past from her grandmothers will affect their relationship?

3.  Faith risks the skeletons coming out of her closet to help a friend. Do you find Faith’s willingness to risk her reputation for a friend as a strength or weakness in this situation?

4.  This story offers a glimpse into the competitive side of the hobby. Did this view surprise you or not?

5.  After Scrap This is vandalized, a reporter writes an inaccurate description of a class and it works in the scrapbook store’s benefit. Have you ever had an error work out in your favor?

6.  Do you think Faith’s drive to right the wrongs done to her hampers her ability to solve the case? Because she makes impetuous decisions? Or do you think her experience helps her to keep strong when others doubt her?   

7. Detective Ted Roget’s feelings toward Faith change as the case progresses. Does his growing attraction affect how he pursues the case? Do you think his attraction factored into his decision of revealing to Faith what he learned about her?

8.  During the course of the investigation, Faith discovers information that places a friend’s husband on her suspect list. Do you think Faith handled this twist well? Do you think her friend’s reaction was fair?

9.  Steve finally voices his feelings to Faith rather than just showing them through his actions. Why did his words have a bigger impact on Faith than his actions? How does the declaration now change their ‘safe’ relationship? 

10.  Part of Faith’s job is coming up with classes for the scrapbooking store. Have you ever taken a scrapbook class, or any class, to learn a new hobby or skill?

11.  When she’s feeling overwhelmed, Faith finds scrapbooking lessens her stress. What activities do you find as a pick me up? Do you enjoy them as often as you should?

12.  Faith had previously closed herself off to relationships, now she’s willing to reconsider that stance. Who do you think is the better fit for Faith: Steve or Ted, and why?

About Christina Freeburn

The Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery series brings together Christina Freeburn’s love of mysteries, scrapbooking, and West Virginia. When not writing or reading, she can be found in her scrapbook room or at a crop. Alas, none of the real-life crops have had a sexy male prosecutor or a handsome police officer attending. 

Christina served in the JAG Corps of the US Army and also worked as a paralegal, librarian, and church secretary. She lives in West Virginia with her husband, children, a dog, and a rarely seen cat except by those who are afraid or allergic to felines.