Dying for Dinner Rolls by Lois Lavrisa Page A

pen from his pocket. He handed both to Annie Mae.
    Annie Mae wrote down her information and gave it to Zachary.
    Beyond the boxes, I saw a stack of newspapers. “By the way, I see you have a big stack of newspapers back there.”
    “Those?” Zachary shot a thumb over his shoulder. “We use them for wrapping breakable items, which is pretty much everything in here.”
    “Where do you get them?” Annie Mae asked.
    “Out of a recycling dumpster on Jones Street,” Zachary said. “About once a week, I head over there and grab a huge stack.”
    We needed to check out the recycling bins on Jones. Maybe we could find another newspaper similar to the one in Lucy’s mystery box. Perhaps this could lead us to the killer.
    “Does anyone here do the newspaper crossword puzzle?” I asked.
    “I’m not much of a puzzle person. And I know Aunt Scarlett is hooked on that numbers puzzle.” Zachary’s forehead furrowed.
    “Sudoku?” Annie Mae offered.
    “That’s it.” Zachary bobbed his head up and down.
    The office door opened, and Scarlett stuck her head out. “Zachary, you made it. Can you please go up front and open the register?”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Zachary waved us good-bye and made his way to the front of the store.
    “Pardon me, but I must get back to work.” Scarlett guided us down the hallway. She pulled the curtain aside, and we walked through.
    A jingle on the front door announced someone entering.
    I shook Scarlett’s hand. “Thank you so much for the tea and for your time. Would you mind if I called you if something came up?”
    “Just in case we have some questions,” Annie Mae added. “And I want to buy one of your mystery boxes. Zachary has my information.”
    Scarlett placed her business card in my hand. A large diamond sparkled on her right ring finger. “I’m so sorry about Lucy. I really am.”
    “Me, too,” I said. “Oh, and just one last question. Does anyone around here do crossword puzzles or write with a purple pen?”
    Scarlett led us into the showroom. “I’m more of a Sudoku fan, and purple ink? I prefer black.”
    We said good-bye. Scarlett approached a group of four ladies who had just entered.
    Annie Mae and I exited Blue Belle.
    “Let’s eat,” Annie Mae said. “It’s way past lunch.”
    As we drove to the Green Truck, my mind kept obsessing about the newspaper recycling bin on Jones Street and the crossword puzzle.
    Did it mean that the murderer lived close by? Did he or she intend the crossword puzzle filled in with ‘your next’ for someone else? Or did it reach the intended victim then get disposed of afterwards in the bin?
    One thing I knew for sure.
    The killer was close.

Chapter Ten

     
    We finished our late lunch and got back in my SUV.
    “Poor kid.” Annie Mae buckled in.
    “Who?” I put my key in the ignition, started the car, and blasted the air conditioner.
    “That young man who works at Scarlett’s shop. He seemed sweet but a little shaken up. Didn’t he seem nervous about selling that mystery box?” Annie Mae asked.
    Parked in the lot, I became distracted looking at a toddler who waited outside the restaurant with a group of people. The toddler held a plush animal with one hand and a toy truck in the other. A woman held the little boy. I thought of my boys.
    “Cat? Are you listening?” Annie Mae turned on the radio.
    “Kids grow up too fast,” I mumbled. When I thought of holding my kids’ hands, my heart ached. Only the girls still let me hug and hold them. The boys, on occasion, would grant me a quick half hug. Hand holding with them had ended years ago.
    “Right.” Annie Mae tapped my arm. “So what do you think about that kid in the antique store?”
    I refocused my attention back to Annie Mae. “Zachary.”
    “Yes, him.”
    “Sweet kid. Nervous but nice.” I made my way out of the parking lot and onto Habersham Street. “Something isn’t sitting right with me.”
    “The raw onions from your burger?”
    “No, they were