Love Can Be Murder

simply mature. Her face was unremarkable, although she'd always believed her green eyes were her best attribute. Deke seemed to prefer her smile, but she thought she showed too much gum.
    That's when I know you're really happy, he'd said once. When I see a lot of gum.
    She couldn't remember the last time she'd shown a lot of gum.
    With a sigh, she withdrew her dusty makeup case and poked around for products that weren't dried up. A dusting of powder would have to suffice as foundation. Too late, she remembered why she didn't use the powder more often—it contained skin "brighteners," which sounded scientific but were, in effect, ground-up glitter so difficult to remove, it practically had to wear off a person's skin. She lucked out and found an unopened wand of mascara and a pinkish lipstick that did double-duty as blush. Then she gave up while she was ahead.
    With much trepidation, she opened the door of her closet, Marie's not so subtle suggestion to dress up ringing in her mind.
    "Festive, festive, festive," she murmured, flipping through jeans, corduroys, chinos, painter's pants, overalls, jumpers, and sweaters. In a near panic, she reached into the back of her closet, and her hand closed over a forgotten dress, one she'd purchased at a local boutique when she'd first detected Deke's restlessness. She withdrew it and held it in front of her, the tags dangling. The sleeveless emerald green wrap dress was fitted through the bodice, tied at the waist, then fell to a long, swishy skirt edged with a thick row of embroidered gold trim. The lustrous fabric was finely cut and flattering to her lean figure. She had paid more for it and a pair of gold wedge-heel sandals than any ensemble since her wedding gown, but she hadn't gotten the chance to wear it and had been too embarrassed to return it...afterward.
    She removed the tags, then slid into the dress and stepped into the shoes, turning this way and that way in the mirror, remembering Deke's reference to her "bony ass." She looked, she decided, as good as she was ever going to look. She added dangly earrings and a few ethnic bracelets, tied a yellow shawl around her shoulders, and dropped essentials into an appliquéd canvas shoulder bag, including a flashlight so she wouldn't have to climb the stairs in the dark again.
    At the last minute, she glanced in the mirror and panicked at her made-over reflection. Did she look as if she was trying too hard?
    Then she winced. Trying too hard to do what? To forget about Deke? Wasn't that the plan?
    She walked to the window and looked out across the people milling in the square—couples holding hands, friends arm in arm, children running wild. The main crowd still gravitated around the shelter, where the dancing had grown more frenzied. Small groups of dancers had erupted on all sides, and everyone seemed to be getting into the spirit of the festival. From her vantage point, she scanned the crowd for anyone familiar and spotted Marie's blue hair as the young woman hurried in the direction of the bar.
    Penny smiled wryly—time to stop stalling and go celebrate her failed marriage.
    She started to turn away from the window when she noticed a tall, muscular man standing next to a streetlight, casually inspecting the crowd. Something about him struck her as familiar....
    The man who had visited Sheena!
    She took an involuntary half step back from the window, then peeked around to see if Sheena was lurking about. If she was, she wasn't making herself known...or maybe the man was waiting for her.
    Penny picked up her purse, her chest bursting with curiosity. She left the light over the dining room table burning and prayed it would last until she got home. The new shoes made getting down the dark stairs precarious, especially when she had to use one hand to hold the flashlight. When she opened the door onto the street, the noise blasted her. The volume had increased twofold since she had gone inside. Night had fallen, but the square was awash with pink and yellow light. The lamp under which the mystery man had been standing illuminated emptiness. Penny glanced around but didn't see him anywhere.
    A child ran by and Penny jumped back, laughing, to avoid being plowed by a train of shrieking children holding sparklers high. She worked her way through the crowd, past the trinket vendors. She fingered glass bead necklaces and velvet charm pouches and smiled over jars of crushed "bones" like the ones on sale at the souvenir shop at the