Trash To Treasure Crafting 1 - Murder at Honeysuckle Hotel by Rose Pressey Page B

to
remember where she came from. Acting all hoity-toity. Walking
around town with her fancy clothes.”
    Okay, my curiosity was piqued. “Where does
she come from, Mitchell?”
    “Let’s just say she came from the other side
of the tracks. She’s not old money. Her daddy spent most of his
life in prison.”
    “I’ll give her credit though, she got out of
there.” Claire Ann popped a candy into her mouth.
    “It went to her head though.” Mitchell’s face
was red.
    “Yeah, that’s not all that went to her head,
either. Could she tease her hair any higher?” Claire Ann
snorted.
    “Maybe the hairspray is getting to her,” I
said. “But if the mayor’s wife wants me out of town, I have a
feeling I should pack my bags. She probably gets what she
wants.”
    “Try not to worry, honey. We’ll figure out
something.” Claire Ann squeezed my shoulders.
    Like I said, easy for her to say. If the
mayor’s wife hated me, then he must hate me too. My days were
numbered in Honeysuckle. I needed to solve this murder before I was
run out of town like a stray cat shooed away from the back
stoop.
    “I’m sure Kent’s on top of things.” Claire
Ann grinned, but I ignored the insinuating remark. “I don’t think
he’s going to arrest you. Handcuff you maybe, but arrest you?
No.”
    “Oh, stop it.” Heat rushed to my cheeks. “I
don’t know what he’s doing. I just hope he’s doing something.”
    Mitchell paid for his beer and Claire Ann
went back to work. For the rest of the shift, I couldn’t get
Martha’s words out of my head. Claire Ann took off early, leaving
me alone in the store. Thankfully only a few customers came in, I
guessed the town had gawked enough. My apprehension didn’t ease
though. Sure, I could wait for Kent and his band of merry men to
figure things out, but I never left things to chance. I didn’t like
not being in control of my life. Sheriff Kent and the Honeysuckle
Police Department held my fate—not good.
    I stepped out the back door and locked it
behind me. I glanced down at my watch. It was ten. The floors had
been dirtier than I’d thought. I couldn’t believe it had taken me
so long to mop them. Darkness had settled over Honeysuckle. The
sounds from the ferris wheel, tilt-a-whirl and other rides echoed
across the night air. My arms ached from pushing the mop and my
feet hurt from standing for so long. I thought I’d be used to it by
now, but that mop got heavier every night.
    In spite of my aching body, I decided to
check out the fair. It would be open for another hour, until
eleven. Mitchell the drunk had begged me to ride the tilt-a-whirl
with him. Not a good idea for him or me. Late-night activity in
Honeysuckle brought out the real crazies and I knew I didn’t want
to tackle it alone. Maybe I’d call Claire Ann and see if she would
meet me. I walked over to the Dumpster and threw in the bag of
trash, then punched in Claire Ann’s number on my cell phone. While
I waited for her to pick up, I contemplated the walk to the
fairgrounds. It was a short one, but my dogs were barking so loud
the old folks’ home in Belleville could hear them.
    “Raelynn, get your butt over here,” she
yelled. The roar of the crowd and the rides rushed through from her
end of the line.
    “Thanks for calling me before you went to the
fair,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster.
    “You were at work. Besides, I have a date.”
Her voice sounded perkier than usual.
    “A date?” I stopped in my tracks.
    “Hey, don’t sound so surprised.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
    “We just met.”
    “Do I know him?”
    “I don’t think so.” She giggled.
    “Well, in that case, I think I’ll just head
home.” I turned in the direction of the Victorian.
    “Nonsense. Come to the fair.”
    “No way. You have a date. I don’t want to be
the only loser without a date.”
    “Come on, just for an hour. I promise I won’t
let you look like a loser. Well, not too much at