A Killing Notion: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery by Melissa Bourbon Page B

closed my mouth instead. He was right.
    “Cassidy, you’re an open book. You’re heading to Granbury to see what you can dig up at Montgomery’s auto shop—am I right?”
    My shoulders slumped. “That obvious, huh?”
    He leaned toward me, his smile still in place. “Only to me,” and he kissed me, slow and tender. It was the kind of kiss Elvis would have sung a ballad about.
    “So you’re coming with me?” I asked, my voice muffled against his mouth.
    He smiled, his lips curling against mine. “So happensI have some free time, so I guess I will.” He sat back as I started Buttercup, threw her into gear, and headed west.
    It took forty minutes to get to Granbury on the one-lane country back roads. At one point an enormous truck bore down on me, laying on his horn until I was able to pull onto the dirt shoulder and let him pass. A short time later, a teenage driver passed a car coming the other direction, nearly plowing into me head-on. By the time we got to Granbury, my hands were shaking and my heart was in my throat. I could see Chris Montgomery wanting to stay off the roads and spend the night when he’d been really tired. Even if he wasn’t really tired. Texas back roads could be treacherous.
    We took a few minutes to drive around the historic town square with its Old West picturesque shop facades and restaurants, and the courthouse smack in the center. It was just like Bliss, only bigger and a little bit grander. More tourists came to Granbury than to Bliss, and with good reason. The square oozed character, and from the looks of things, they hosted town celebrations more than they didn’t.
    “The Bliss Historical Society wants us to become a mini Granbury,” Will said. He’d taken out his cell phone and was snapping pictures out the passenger window. “I came down here a few months back to look at the playhouse and the outdoor amphitheater.”
    “Is Bliss getting a playhouse and amphitheater?” We didn’t have a movie theater, so somewhere local to see plays would be fun.
    Will shrugged. “Anything’s possible. Just takes money.”
    Like anything else. I had taken on the homecomingmums to earn a little extra money just to make ends meet, and I was constantly thinking of what else I could do to keep Buttons & Bows afloat.
    Will seemed to sense the thoughts flitting through my mind. He stretched his arm across the back of the seat and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. I smiled at him, relaxing in the comfortable silence between us. Neither one of us needed to fill it with idle chitchat, and once again I had to hand it to Meemaw for her matchmaking skills. What Loretta Mae wanted, Loretta Mae got. She’d wanted Will and me to be a couple, and darned if it hadn’t happened. But more than that, it was a good match, and I was grateful to my great-grandmother for knowing what I needed even before I did.
    A few minutes later, we’d found the side street Bubba’s called home. Bedding flowers lined the walkway to the lobby door, and the parking lot and the repair bays were full of cars. Bubba’s Granbury location did a brisker business than its sister site in Bliss. It looked nicer. It was kept up. And I knew better than anyone how important first impressions were. My first impression of a person often sent a vision into my head, and more often than not, the outfit I pictured revealed something about the person, something I might not discover in any other way.
    My first impression of Bubba’s in Bliss was that it catered to the town’s locals and old timers who’d been born and raised in Bliss. On the other hand, my first impression of the Granbury Bubba’s was that Suburban-driving moms were just as big a part of the clientele as the good ol’ boy network who spent their Saturdayafternoons at the barber shop. Flowers told a specific story, and the knock-out roses planted by the door and the beds packed with marigolds said that someone took the time to care for the landscape. Bubba’s in Bliss