By Melissa Bourbon
After a 12 months of labor in her Texas place of birth, Harlow Jane Cassidy’s goals are ultimately inside of reachif she will simply get all of it performed in time
Harlow’s designs could be featured in a huge journal unfold, yet she in basic terms has a couple of days to finalize her assortment. Plus she’s busy assisting to devise her mother’s upcoming marriage ceremony, taking part in host to her outdated buddy Orphie, and heading off a aggressive Dallas fashion designer set on stealing Harlow’s rules. Harlow’s making all of it workuntil a person breaks into Buttons & Bows and the rival fashion designer is located dead.
but if a close to leave out makes it transparent that Orphie may be the subsequent sufferer, Harlow must untangle the threads of proof if she desires to keep her pal, her mother’s marriage ceremony, and her company from turning into model street kill
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Additional resources for A Custom-Fit Crime (A Magical Dressmaking Mystery, Book 4)
He thought he was in love with that woman,” she continued. “She led him on. ” I waited for more and got it. “I hope she felt guilty and goes straight to hell. ” I could picture her at Saturday’s CAP rally in the park, yelling along with the best of them. ” She glared at me. “Of course I have. ” I tried to explain that I didn’t mean to imply otherwise but I’d already said enough to lose her trust, and clearly the conversation wasn’t going to be pleasant from here on. I excused myself, paid for both coffees at the counter, and left.
When they saw the large sign at the edge of town advertising The Black Cat B&B, they decided to check it out. They still felt like celebrating, and a bed-andbreakfast would be more festive than a motel. They were surprised to find that The Black Cat B&B was surrounded by a high chain-link fence with a security gate at the entrance. But it looked ideal: a large Victorian building on a sprawling lot within walking distance of the Sogobia River, surrounded by shade trees to temper the heat coming off the Nevada desert.
Now for the record, of course it was suicide. Any damn fool can see that. But as soon as I saw the hole in the fence, I knew some asshole would come up with a theory. ” Driving down Main Street, on my way home, I saw Sonny Boy’s mother enter Mom’s Café. I swung into a parking place out front to follow her inside. She was slipping into a corner booth. I approached the table. She was one of those working women with a face that revealed a life of long hours, much worry, and probably too much booze.