Banana Muffins & Mayhem by Janel Gradowski

to make the situation better. She would make it better. Considering Foster was tackling her first murder case as the lead detective, Amy probably had more experience solving homicides.
    But there wasn't much she could do at the moment except try to make her husband feel better. She stood on her tiptoes and reaped two benefits from the action—a foot stretch and a kiss from her husband. Pleasures for her soles and soul. She smiled at her internal dialog's play on words. Alex arched his eyebrow at her. "What are you smiling about?"
    Alex wasn't a fan of word games, but she did know something else that he enjoyed. She held up her index finger before spinning around to lower the heat under the soup pot. When she turned back to face him, she looped her fingers through the belt loops on the front of his black slacks. She tugged him toward the doorway leading to the staircase. "I just thought of a little activity that would relieve some of your stress. But we have to go upstairs to the bedroom in order to do it."
    "I see." The corners of his mouth crooked up. "I think I might be amenable to your proposal, but I would like more time to study the details. Can dinner wait? It could take a while to do the proper research."
    "Absolutely." Amy giggled as Alex scooped her up in his arms. As he carried her up the stairs, she took a deep breath and willed her mind to focus on her husband. The little thought caterpillar trying to figure out who was wearing the Quantum shirt needed to crawl in a corner of her brain, build a cocoon, and morph into a beautifully plausible explanation. She was going to be busy concentrating on Alex for a while, so there was plenty of time for her subconscious mind to work on the puzzle.

 
CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    "Do you really honestly think it will be pretty?" Amy asked. She looked at the small sample tiles and then at her plate. The pottery glazes changed colors when they were heated in a kiln. It was difficult to believe the muted, muddy looking swirls would resemble tropical ocean water. But Geri had promised the glazes would be beautiful together when Amy picked them out, so she was trying very, very hard to believe the drab would turn into fab.
    "It's going to be gorgeous," Geri said as she bent over to examine the plate closer. "You are a talented artist."
    Amy couldn't help but smile at the compliment, even though she knew very well that Carla's mom was just fluffing her ego. Geri had made the perfectly symmetrical, not in the least bit wobbly plate that Amy painted. From a lump of clay. Using only her hands and some simple tools. Swishing around some glaze with a paint brush was far from being the true artist that Geri was. Amy rolled her eyes. "Thank you. I know it isn't true, but I appreciate your effort to make me feel somewhat competent. I'm always looking for interesting dishes to use in photographs for the food on my blog. I figured I would try my hand at making something unique. Although I suspect it will be uniquely ugly."
    "You'll be pleasantly surprised at what it ends up looking like. The colors will be completely different once the plate is fired again." Geri hummed to herself as she set the bottles of glaze on a tray to tidy up the area where Amy had been working. Carla's mother split her time at Make It Unique between making items for customers to paint and helping people accomplish that task. The job was perfect for her personality, and since her boss was also her landlord, she got a great deal on the apartment upstairs. After spending years in New Zealand getting back on her feet after a divorce, Geri had returned to Kellerton a completely different woman. Or at least that's what Carla said. The uptight and sophisticated mother who Carla remembered came back a stylish hippie. Amy suspected the artistic tendencies were always there, just buried under other things that she had made a priority while Carla was growing up.
    Amy slipped off the splattered apron she was wearing and hung it on the