Murder On The Ol' Bunions (A LaTisha Barnhart Mystery) - Plot & Excerpts
In the dim light from the front window, it took my eyes a minute to adjust. I raised my hand to flick on the light switch beside the door. Chill bumps raised along my arms. A fine coating of fingerprint powder covered almost everything. Without Marion’s strident voice to bring life to the store, it felt like the bricks and boards themselves were grieved over what they had witnessed. Tendrils of musty air, coupled with a whiff of some unidentifiable chemical, swirled under my nose. Mark’s expression was unreadable as he stared around the shop. “She sure has a lot of stuff.” His eyes darted to mine. "Had." “You’ve never been in here before?” His gaze fluttered away from mine. "Never." Hm. Chief Conrad tucked his thumbs into his belt. “Let’s get to what we came here for and get going.” So he feels it too. . . “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,” I murmured. The chief squeezed past me in the narrow room. “Where would your books be?” “The one I got was on the counter.
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