Alibis and Amethysts by Sharon Pape Page A

end.
    Sierra shrugged. “How would I know? She never exchanged two civil words with me. She
     hated me from the moment she saw the ‘Coming Soon’ sign posted in my window. I don’t
     think it would have mattered if I’d turned out to be Lady Gaga or Mother Teresa.”
    “We need to find someone else who had a troubled relationship with her, someone with
     a good motive to kill her.” The doorbell outside the shop rang, causing Frosty to
     jump up barking ferociously in guard dog mode. “Who on earth . . . ?” Jaye said, heading
     for the stairs.
    “Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Sierra called after her. “The Hinklemeyer twins are stopping
     by.”

Chapter 6
    Jaye reappeared two minutes later with Esther and Edith Hinklemeyer right behind her.
     Still surprisingly spry for women who were well into their eighties, they weren���t
     even breathing hard. When Jaye had first arrived in town, she’d thought it was strange
     that people still referred to women of their advanced age as “the twins.” The designation
     seemed all the more ridiculous given that they were fraternal, not identical, twins
     who didn’t bear the slightest resemblance to each other.
    Esther was petite, with a pixie face and pin-straight hair, while Edith was half a
     foot taller, with a long face, curly hair and an ever-expanding waistline. Even so,
     the two women seemed determined to do what they could to rectify the gross failure
     of biology that had made them sisters who shared a birthday instead of twins who shared
     every helix of their DNA.
    According to local residents who’d known them for several decades, they always dressed
     alike. Since they wore such disparate sizes, they had to sew most of their clothing,
     which eventually lead them to become expert seamstresses. When Esther’s hair turned
     gray, Edith, who’d been straightening her hair since junior high, immediately had
     it dyed gray as well. When Edith needed reading glasses, Esther purchased the same
     frames minus the prescription. And after Edith became allergic to shrimp, Esther stopped
     eating them, at least in public.
    They still shortened hems, let out seams, mended rips and designed the occasional
     gown in their shop, called simply “Hinklemeyers.” Recently, they had added a new service
     to their enterprise along with a second sign that read “Eros and Old Lace.” If they’d
     been hoping to cause some buzz with the name, they’d succeeded. Curiosity had run
     rampant, and Jaye had not been immune.
    “The name’s a takeoff on the play ‘Arsenic and Old Lace,’” Esther had chirped in response
     to Jaye’s question on opening day.
    “Eros was the Greek god the Romans later called Cupid,” Edith expounded, adding proudly,
     “We’ve gone into the matchmaking business.”
    “Computers have made romance so sterile,” Esther said. “There’s so much more to it
     than facts, figures and circuit boards. Where’s intuition? Where’s that certain something
     that defies explanation?” High on enthusiasm, the sisters seemed blissfully unaware
     of the irony that neither Eros nor their intuition had ever found matches for them.
    After Sierra greeted the twins, Jaye invited them to have a seat in the living room.
     They perched together on one of the two dove gray love seats that faced each other
     over a glass coffee table. Sierra, Frosty and Jaye settled on the other one, Jaye
     still wondering why they were entertaining the Hinklemeyers this evening. Frosty,
     who didn’t seem to have any such questions, quickly fell asleep between them.
    The four women sat and talked about the weather, the new resort under construction
     and the uptick in business, with its concomitant traffic issues, until Jaye aimed
     a subtle kick at her friend’s ankle bone.
    “Ouch!” Sierra protested, pulling her foot out of harm’s way, waking Frosty, who’d
     been snoring peacefully, and ruining Jaye’s attempt to be discreet. “Okay, I’m getting