Green Living Can Be Deadly (A Blossom Valley Mystery) by Staci McLaughlin

around to the murder, but he’d done all the work for me. “Right after it happened. Were you here? I don’t remember seeing you.”
    Jim refolded a T-shirt, which had looked a little crooked. “The crowd was so small, I went and sat in my truck to make some business calls. By the time I got back, the cops had already shown up.”
    “So you didn’t see anything?” I asked. Wendy’s booth had been surrounded by people, yet we’d all stepped away at that crucial time. Part of the killer’s plan, or was it a lucky coincidence?
    “Earlier I saw a man stop by and get into it with Wendy. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you could tell he was yelling. Too bad they were inside that tent—I couldn’t see much.” He slapped his hand on a stack of coupons as a gust of wind blew through.
    I handed him a thermos, which sat on the table, so he could weigh down the coupons. “What happened next?”
    “Some good-looking lady in a leopard-print shirt showed up, and the guy left.”
    He must have been admiring Kimmie. I’d known it was a long shot that Jim would have heard anything all the way across the street, but I still felt a sigh of disappointment escape my lips. “Too bad you couldn’t hear. That argument might be tied to her murder.”
    He flashed a row of perfectly white teeth at a woman walking by, but she didn’t stop. He focused on me again. “That’s what the cops said, too. I told them they need to talk to that lady who was standing right outside Wendy’s booth while those two were yelling. She must have heard the entire thing.”
    I felt like I’d swallowed a shot of espresso as my pulse sped up. Had someone else overheard the argument? “Can you describe her?”
    “Real pretty. Like a cowgirl, with those boots.”
    My initial excitement died away. This wasn’t a new witness after all. “That must be Lily, one of Invisible Prints’ customers. She really wanted to meet Wendy yesterday.”
    “She looked awful upset when she ran off. Whatever she overheard, it wasn’t pretty.”
    I needed to talk to Lily again. Maybe she’d come back to the festival today, although I couldn’t imagine why. Her one reason for visiting was now lying in the morgue. I shivered at the image.
    Jim noticed. “That wind is chilly, isn’t it? One of my mushroom sweaters would keep you warm.”
    “Thanks, but I’ve got my jacket in my booth. Speaking of which, guess I’d better get back, in case someone shows up.”
    I walked across the street, feeling the stirrings of resentment at the group of spectators. If they weren’t interested in the festival, they should clear out, instead of offering up false hope. I had better things to do than try to lure over people who only wanted to tell their friends they’d seen a real-live murder site. I slapped my hand on the table when I reached it. The action created a loud pop.
    A couple of people looked over, and I snatched up a brochure.
    “Have you heard about all the new features at the spa?” I asked.
    They both shook their heads and moved away. Maybe that’s how I can get rid of all the looky-loos. Pester them with brochures. I’d get the space cleared in ten minutes.
    Up the street, a woman carrying a bouquet of flowers headed toward Wendy’s booth. Finally there was someone who cared about Wendy, not just a busybody who wanted to see where she’d died.
    As she walked closer, I got a better look at her face, partly obscured by the sprig of baby’s breath. The woman was Lily, Wendy’s devoted customer.
    My gloom instantly lifted.
    Now we are getting somewhere.

10
     
    Feeling slightly guilty that I hadn’t brought flowers myself, I paced the small confines of the booth as I waited for Lily to make her way down the street. With her long, billowing skirt and bouquet of flowers, she was a throwback to the sixties.
    She approached the tent and laid the bouquet on the pavement next to the open flap. Conversation ceased as people watched. I’d swear a few had