Chapter Seventeen

Trinity and I leave it at we agree to disagree. With a solid, pinkie-swear promise that I tell her anything and everything I might happen to come up with, if and only if it comes my way naturally.

Have I mentioned that a Navy motto is better to beg forgiveness than ask for permission?

Which is why only hours later I’m smack dab in the middle of Suds and Sparkles listening to Allie expound upon the benefits of vegan lotions, bath bombs, bath salts, soaps, and lip scrubs. Allie Davis opened her store just under a year ago, before I moved back. But the airy, open space is chock full of enticing displays in what has to be every possible floral scent imaginable. There’s a kid’s corner, too, that boasts smaller containers and golf-ball-sized bath bombs in popular kid food scents. Chocolate cupcake, vanilla frosting, and cheese-y crackers are only a few.

“Each bath bomb has no less than five grams of coconut oil infused with sarsaparilla essence, which is why we call it our root beer float.” Allie tilts her head and presents one of the sparkling molded balls in her hand as if it’s a precious gem. “The food-safe glitter floats on top of your bath, and drains with zero harm to your plumbing.” I’m admiring her festive clothing, again. Today’s sweater is a charcoal-gray cardigan with snowman buttons and a red-and-white fair isle patterned yoke. I recognize the pattern as one of Bryce’s and say so.

“Yes, I took his color work class last year. Here, check this out.” She shoves the bath bomb under my nose.

I sniff. “Wow, that’s incredible. It really does smell like root beer!”

She nods. “Sure does.” She opens her mouth to continue and I see my tactical window.

“Allie, at the Stonebridge Buddies meeting you mentioned that this past Saturday you were having a make-it-yourself drop-in event?” I’ve never been accused of being a tact master.

Her head twerks to her right, her gaze sharpens. “Yes. Frannie’s assistant Jenna was here, as a matter of fact. The police questioned me about it already. That’s why you’re in my store, right?”

Dang.

“Partially, yes. I also need more of your custom bath balm bombs. My bathtub is the only way I can relax these days.” I’m not above greasing the inquisition wheels.

“Well, I sure hope you have a crowbar handy, or a baseball bat. There’s a murderer on the loose!” She lowers her voice on the last. “I’m keeping Romeo with me, in the back, at all times until they catch them.”

“Romeo?”

“You don’t know Romeo?” She points to a table I haven’t visited yet. A Pitbull-shaped cutout sports the prices of doggie shampoo, doggie conditioner, and natural peanut butter flavored doggie dental paste. “He’s my inspiration. Come on back and meet him.” She nods to a woman standing behind the counter. I guesstimate she’s the same age as the twins.

“Watch the store, Courtney.” as she lifts the top and ushers me to the other side.

“Will do.” Courtney’s bright eyes and aura of exuberance, so much like Ava and Lily, trigger the longing I’ve struggled to keep tamped down. I miss my girls so much.

We go through a small door into an area larger than the storefront. Stoves and presses and work spaces galore compete for space. A long wall of dowels holds myriad stickers, labels for the varying tins, bottles, and jars that hold the merchandise. I’m impressed by the neatness, the lack of any one overwhelming scent.

“Kudos to you, Allie. Your products are never too strong, scent-wise.”

“Oh, that’s another reason to choose all-natural products. If it’s going to touch your skin, why would it need to be a strong scent?”

I can think of when my body needs a stronger-than-BO-aroma, like after a long day in an airplane or, say, after finding a corpse. But I keep my observation private. I’m here to build bridges, aid the community, and catch a killer. Not antagonize a possible informant.

Allie leads us behind a large stainless-steel work counter to reveal a powder blue fluffy dog bed with the most beautiful dog sitting up on it.

“Oh, we woke him up!” Romeo blinks once, twice, all the while regarding me with steady, sorrowful amber eyes.

“This is Romeo. Romeo, meet Angel.” Romeo’s bottom wriggles.

“What a dear! Can I pet him?”

“Yes, please. I do all I can to socialize him. Take your time, though. He has a traumatic past.” Allie smiles at her beloved canine. “Good dog, Romeo, it’s okay. Angel’s our friend.”

I cautiously bend over and hold my hand out for the silver-coated canine. Romeo takes a few steps forward and sniffs before licking my fingers with his approval.

“Good doggie.” I scratch behind his ears and remember much larger doggie ears from the other day. Nate’s dog, Mach. I haven’t seen him since then, not that I wish I had or that I’ve been thinking of him. The dog, not necessarily the owner.

“He’s sweet, sure, but on my command he’ll take down the murderer without hesitation.”

“Sounds better than the alarm system I had installed on Monday!”

“Definitely. An alarm system only warns. Romeo’s going to be with me 24/7 until the killer’s in jail.” Allie’s shudder punctuates her fear, and the stark terror in her eyes contrasts with the cozy, self-care ambience of her shop. “I’ve moved back in with my folks, too. I don’t want to live alone right now.”

“I don’t blame you.” Allie can’t be more than five years older than my girls. I’d want them with me, too, if they hadn’t left town. “I’m impressed, Allie. By all accounts, Suds and Sparkles is booming. Have you always wanted to own your own business? And why did you pick bath products?”

“Yeah, so, I knew that owning my own business was my path, for sure. I sold all kinds of things as a kid, you know, for the school fundraisers?”

I nod as I continue to pet Romeo’s soft fur.

“I studied business in high school, and went to HACC.”

“HACC has it all, doesn’t it? I’ve thought of taking some business classes there myself.” Harrisburg Area Community College is more than what community college was when I graduated high school. Many of the twins’ friends have enrolled at HACC for everything from nursing to premed.

“HACC is great, I must say. I was going to get my MBA next, but when my grandmother died, she left me with enough cash to start Suds and Sparkles. I do still plan to get my MBA, however. As soon as I have enough reliable employees to man the shop, I’m going to attend a night or weekend program.”

“Your parents must be so proud of you, Allie.” And I mean it. Heck, I’m proud of her. And I hardly know her.

“They are. Mom works here on weekends, especially this time of year. I need all hands on deck!” I doubt she realizes she’s used a Navy colloquialism, but it tugs at my pride nonetheless.

It describes my drive to solve Frannie’s murder ASAP. It’s an all-hands-on-deck situation, no question.

I give Romeo a final pat until I get to see him again and stand. “Thanks for showing me around, Allie.”

“Of course! What kind of balm bomb did you want?”

“Lavender if you have it. And maybe a rose, too.”

“I have both in stock. We’ve been making inventory for what feels like a century.”

“For the holidays?”

“Yes. We’re in production every week of the year, but the pre-orders and website sales have slammed us. In the best way, of course.”

“You mentioned hiring was a problem? I’m going to need at least one other person to man the register, and I’m searching for an overall assistant to handle the website, social media, promo and store events.” Basically I want a mini-me, for an affordable wage.

Allie’s mouth tips in a semi-frown and she lets out a punctuated sigh. “I wish I could tell you not to worry about it, but I’ve had so much turnover this past year it’d make your head spin. Every business in town has the same problem.”

“Is it the hourly wage issue?” I know that most local businesses can’t compete with the national chains, of which there are an abundance in the Harrisburg Area, all within twenty minutes of Stonebridge.

“That, and the younger crowd wants benefits that I know I for one can’t afford.”

“What kind of benefits?”

“Scholarships, for one. The local grocery stores all have programs to help college students with tuition. Plus they pay, on average, two dollars and thirty-eight cents an hour more.” Allie sure did her homework.

“I’ll keep that in mind. To be honest, I’ve been swamped with getting ready for my grand opening.”

Allie regards me with a sage gaze that belies her years. “And now you have to fight the rumor mill.”

“By the way, I never thanked you properly for sticking up for me last night. I really appreciate it.”

Her grin is instant. “Aw, it wasn’t a big deal. The Buddies can be a bunch of diehard gasbags if you ask me. But talking to any of them one-on-one, they’re really nice. A lot of them knew my grandparents.”

“Still, you didn’t have to speak up. You don’t know me well. Why did you?”

“We’re back to the real estate assistant question again, right? I told the police all I know, what I saw. Jenna came in here later in the morning, maybe an hour, hour-and-a-half after we opened.”

I turn my head and confirm the hour by the numbers painted on her entrance door. “You opened at ten.”

“Right. Jenna’s a frequent flyer in here, so I recognized her right away.”

“Did she seem any different to you?”

“Do you mean do I think she killed Frannie?” She laughs. “Of course not. Jenna was totally herself, very relaxed, quiet. She spent a lot of time at the bath salts.” She motions to a counter at one side of the store that’s laden with glass jars of salt blends. “That’s how I know she couldn’t have been in your store. Besides, Jenna’s the kind of person who’d take a spider outside instead of stepping on it. I’ve known her since our Brownie troop trips.”

“Thanks for letting me know, Allie. You’re right—I’m not a cop, or anything at all near it. I just want people to know my shop had nothing to do with her death.”

“I don’t think anyone really believes that. The people here just need something to talk about.”

“Is there anyone that you know has been particularly upset with Frannie recently?”

“Honestly, no. We all get, I’m sorry, got, tired of her obsession with making Stonebridge a true resort town. I think it’s safe to say that most of us locals are happy with things as they are. Do we want more business? Of course! But that’s what an online shop is for, if you ask me.”

She rings up my order and packages it so prettily I know I won’t want to open it right away.

“Thank you, Allie. That’s perfect!”

“Here’s an idea for you. There’s a bulletin board at the coffee shop, right when you walk in. They allow everyone to post whatever they want. You could make a flyer about needing help at your shop. It’s how I’ve found almost all of my employees.”

“Thanks. That’s a great idea.”

So what if this means I’ll be going to Latte Love? It’s not like I’m going there to catch a glimpse of Nate. This is purely business.