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

need to know that someone broke in the
house so maybe they can catch the person.”
    I sighed. “I guess you’re right. But I just
moved in. Do you think this has anything to do with this house? Was
that why someone broke in? Maybe they were looking for
something.”
    “That does make sense. But what would they be
looking for?” She asked.
    “It doesn’t make any sense. Do you think this
was a random crime? Did Nancy have any enemies?”
    “Her husband was cheating on her.”
    “Yeah. So there are two suspects already,
huh? The husband and the mistress. Margaret McKenna always did have
a temper. I wouldn’t put anything past her.”
    Sheriff Kent approached again.
    Claire Ann whispered, “Tell me, how did we
get so lucky as to have Kent Klein as Honeysuckle’s sheriff? He is
easy on the eyes, don’t you think? Wouldn’t you like to butter his
biscuit?”
    I nudged her in the side. “You’ve got a
filthy mind. I would not like to butter his biscuit.” Okay, maybe
I’d like to butter his biscuit a little.
    “I need you to share the story with me again,
Raelynn,” Kent said.
    “You’ll probably get sick of hearing it, so
maybe I shouldn’t tell you again,” I said.
    “I need to know every detail. You may have
forgotten to share something with me the first time.” Had he read
my mind? Did he know something already regarding the candlestick?
No, how could he? Sheriff Kent crossed his muscular arms in front
of his chest.
    Claire Ann stood. “I have to get back to
work. See you later. Sheriff.” She nodded at Kent.
    “Thanks for coming by and checking on me.
I’ll call you later.” Leaving me alone to face this situation was
not good. I wanted to hold onto Claire Ann’s leg like a dog. I’d
rather have her drag me across the lawn than stay and answer
questions again—no matter how good-looking the person asking was.
Claire Ann disappeared around the corner. Sheriff Kent Klein’s gaze
remained focused on my face. Heat gathered in my cheeks. I glanced
down, but couldn’t help but look back up at him.
    I used every ounce of courage I had and said,
“I guess I’ll just come right out and say this, but the murder
weapon came from my house.”

Chapter Ten
    “What? From where?”
    “My kitchen.”
    His face blanched.
    “It was the candlestick. I’d used it last
night in the kitchen. I’m trying to save on electricity. Anyway, I
think I heard someone come in the house after I went to bed. When I
checked the rooms, I didn’t find anyone. I just assumed it was the
old house making noises. But now…”
    “I’m sending in police to search for
fingerprints. You need to stay outside.” He pointed toward the
house.
    “Can I get dressed? Am I allowed to
leave?”
    “I’ll send someone with you so you can get a
change of clothing.”
    “Maybe I should just wear what I have
on.”
    He looked me up and down. My mother was
right. “Always look your best,” she’d said. “You never know whom
you’ll see.” I should have listened.
    “That’s up to you. Now tell me again what
happened last night.”
    After I recounted every single detail again,
I prayed he was satisfied. No such luck.
    “Your fingerprints will probably be on the
candlestick, you know?”
    “I realize that. What I don’t understand why
the killer used that as a murder weapon. Why not use a knife? I had
one in the sink that I used last night to cut the watermelon.”
    “It’s difficult to understand a murderer’s
logic. Maybe you’ll get lucky and we’ll find the killer’s prints
instead. Anyway, we’ll be here a while. I don’t know quite what to
say, Raelynn. But I’m sorry this happened.”
    “Thank you. That means a lot,” I said.
    “I’ll need a statement from you and I’ll have
more questions for you. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”
    Heat rushed to my cheeks. Hell’s bells. I
couldn’t help my emotions. He smiled and I thought I noticed a
tinge of red on his cheeks, too.
    I stumbled when I stood from