Love Can Be Murder

had changed her; before she wouldn't have wished evil on anyone, no matter what they had done to her, but now...well, now she had fantasies about Deke getting his comeuppance in a manner worthy of a regional headline. She glanced toward the phone and seriously toyed with the idea of calling Deke and inventing an emergency to bring him running home. How fitting if Deke walked in on Sheena doing the nasty with another guy in the same bed in which she had caught Deke and Sheena going at it like two greased pistons.
    She would probably never be able to get that horrific image out of her head. Now, ten months later, the detail she remembered most vividly was the bottoms of Sheena's feet (stuck up in the air) were dirty, and the fact that she was sullying Penny's organic cotton sheets in the process of shagging her husband was just...well, unforgivable, really.
    Penny pressed the binoculars closer to the window, her mind spinning gleeful scenarios, all of them ending with Deke crawling back to her—not that it would do any good, but oh, the sweet satisfaction.
    The stranger's body language was definitely suspicious as he climbed the steps, stabbed the doorbell, and waited in the shadows of the covered porch. He looked from side to side, his gaze seeming to catch and linger on the antique metal glider she had painstakingly stripped of countless layers of peeling paint and refurbished for the porch. His good taste in furniture apparently did not extend to women, Penny thought sourly. The door opened and Sheena stood there in a pale, voluminous peignoir, a la Zsa Zsa Gabor, her orange skin glowing like a jack-o'-lantern, nary a back brace or neck cast in sight.
    Penny waited for the man to scoop Sheena into his arms, or for her to flash him some leg—or an orange boob. Instead, his posture went rigid and he appeared to say something she didn't like. Sheena's blond head tilted, her hip cocked saucily, and her face contorted. Then she tried to close the door, but the man wedged his foot in the opening long enough to add something. When he withdrew his foot, the door closed, and Penny imagined the thwack of the dead bolt turning as she had turned it many times herself.
    The man retraced his steps to the car, every footfall exuding frustration. Penny couldn't get a good look at his face as he swung into the driver's seat. Exhaust blasted out of the tailpipe when he started the car engine. He backed out of the driveway onto Charm Street and sped away in the direction of downtown Mojo. For some reason, though, she doubted the man was in town for the Voodoo Festival.
    Penny's pulse spiked. Who was the mystery man to her ex-husband's shack-up honey? A relative? A debtor?
    A lover?

Chapter Two

    Add a dash of weakness...

    SUDDENLY PENNY REALIZED Marie was speaking. The mini-blind snapped back in place. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
    Beneath her blue pixie haircut, Marie frowned and leaned into the counter. "I said are you going to let a bad paint job ruin tonight's party?"
    Penny pulled her mind back to the moment and made her best attempt at a smile. "No. It's sweet of you to throw a party to celebrate my divorce." In truth, she dreaded it like a pelvic exam. People used to mourn a broken marriage—now greeting card companies offered "you're better off without him" poetry. It all felt very sordid to her, but she knew Marie was only trying to lift her spirits. "I've never been to a divorce party—what will we do?"
    "Well—"
    The phone rang and Penny held up her finger. "Hold that thought." Praying that Marie's thought was of canceling the party, Penny shoved the binoculars into her pocket, then walked to the front counter and picked up the handset next to the cash register. "Charm Farm, Penny speaking."
    "Penny, it's Gloria Dalton. Is this a bad time?"
    At the sound of her divorce attorney's voice, Penny grimaced. "Only if this is bad news."
    "No," Gloria said quickly. "Actually I was just...checking on you."
    Penny blinked. "Checking on me?"
    "Call me a mother hen. I know sometimes the finality of signing the divorce papers can pack an emotional punch." She cleared her throat. "I just wanted to let you know if you ever feel like talking..."
    "I'm fine," Penny rushed to fill in the pause, realizing in flushed embarrassment that Gloria hadn't bought all those excuses about allergies when her eyes had watered and her nose had run during consultations.
    "I know things between you and Deke ended on a sour note," Gloria said. "If