Boston Cream Killer: Book 8 in The INNcredibly Sweet Series by Summer Prescott

another woman.
    “I’m sorry sweetie, you’re going to have to help me out here. I feel like we’re not participating in the same conversation, and I want to help you with whatever’s bothering you,” he gently turned her chin so that she would face him, and was astounded by the depth of pain in her eyes.
    “I saw you… at Betty’s,” she began, fat tears rolling down her cheeks and her breath coming in little gasps and hiccups. “I saw that woman… touching you,” she accused, crying harder.
    When he reached for her this time, she shrank from him, drowning in her misery.
    “Missy… my love… what you saw was a woman who came to threaten me about my family business. I had no plans to meet her there, I didn’t have any idea who she was and I still don’t. She came in after I did, and I suspect that she was following me,” he said urgently, his heart breaking over what his sweet wife must’ve thought.
    “Why was she touching you?” she blurted, her sobs shuddering through her, making her feel ill.
    “Because she was trying to manipulate me, and I didn’t let her, sweetie. I got up and left.”
    He told her what had happened, and offered to go with her to ask Betty what she heard.
    “She came here, too,” Missy tried to take a breath, but her shoulders kept hitching with the impact of her tears.
    “What happened?” Chas frowned, concerned.
    “I went for a walk with the girls, and…” Missy’s explanation was interrupted by Chas’s work phone ringing.
    “I’m so sorry…” he began.
    “No, it’s okay, go ahead and answer it,” she mumbled, drained.
    The detective’s brow furrowed as he listened to the dispatcher on the other end. He asked a few clipped questions, nodded unconsciously at the responses, and hung up rather quickly. He caressed his wife’s tear-stained face, deeply saddened by her pain.
    “Sweetie, there’s nowhere that I’d rather be right now than talking with you and holding you until you feel better, but, they’ve found a body…” he apologized.
    “No, it’s okay,” she nodded, wiping at her nose with a crumpled tissue. “You have a job to do… go do it. I’ll be here when you get back.”
    “That’s what makes my life worth living, Melissa,” he said huskily.
    She lifted her face to his kiss, relieved and utterly spent. She’d have no trouble going to sleep now; she just wondered what might haunt her in her dreams.
     

CHAPTER TWELVE
    Hannah Folsom frowned as she dabbed hydrogen peroxide on her arm. The scratches that Missy had managed to inflict before Spencer could drag her away had broken the skin pretty profoundly, and the peroxide stung and bubbled as she cleaned the wounds. She had to chuckle though when she saw how profoundly she’d gotten under the skin of both Charles and Melissa Beckett. On his own, the detective probably wouldn’t be swayed, but if he thought that his precious hick wife might be dragged into a mess, Hannah might just end up getting the information that she wanted.
    Feeling rather pleased with herself, she opened her laptop and spread her notes across the large work surface that the hotel had conveniently provided. She hadn’t learned much in the short time that she’d been in Calgon, but she managed to figure out who Kel was, and had documented interaction with him, Betty, Chas, and Missy. She’d also remembered who the young woman with Missy in the cupcake shop was, Izzy Gillmore. She’d done a rather scathing review of one of the woman’s books a few years ago and had received everything from prank calls to death threats as a result. To say that Izzy’s fans were loyal was an understatement, and some of them were more than a bit creepy, so she’d taken some notes on that as well.
    Hannah sent off an email, and took care of a couple of other online tasks and searches, while her stomach grumbled madly. Realizing that she wasn’t going to continue being productive until she had some food, she closed the laptop, ran a