Love Can Be Murder

you, sir?"
    He held up two small bottles. "Both of these are labeled 'powdered bones.' What's the difference between the ones with the red caps and the ones with the white caps?"
    "Just different suppliers." She smiled, then lowered her voice. "You do realize it's just limestone?"
    He nodded and returned her smile. "I'll take both of these—I think my niece and nephew will get a kick out of them." Then he added a pair of plastic handcuffs to his purchases, giving Penny a secret, sexy wink.
    She flushed at his insinuation, and foolishly her mind conjured up an image of being handcuffed to her bed and B.J. doing wicked, wonderful things to her, his sensuous, curvy mouth on her skin, rendering her powerless as she strained against the plastic—
    "Ready?" B.J. asked.
    She jumped, then nodded and exhaled. "Sure." They walked out, and B.J. studied the immense door when they closed it behind them. "Looks old."
    "I think it's original," she said, then told him the tale about the door being stained with the blood of the house's victims.
    His grin was wry. "This town seems to thrive on the macabre."
    "And New Orleans doesn't?"
    "Touché."
    "By the way, that was Diane Davidson who waited on you. She said she didn't bring the voodoo doll to the party."
    "That little mouse is the witch that has people stirred up enough to paint messages on her house in blood?"
    "Don't forget, she's the one you said had an arsenal in her living room."
    "Maybe she felt like she needed to protect herself." He shook his head. "Wow, when I drove into this town, it looked so innocent."
    "Small towns aren't innocent," Penny said. "The people are just better at keeping secrets." She walked down the leaf-covered stone steps and pointed left. "That's where I ran into Deke."
    B.J. craned his neck. "What's around back?"
    "A three-car garage and a short driveway leading to a gate to drive on and off the property."
    "But no customer parking?"
    "Right."
    B.J. seemed to make some mental notes, then they walked back to the pedestrian entrance in the front.
    Penny glanced back at the Archambault mansion and thought she saw a flash in a high window, like before. She shuddered, wondering if it was just a tourist or if the people tortured there haunted its halls. Then she looked around and saw it was only the glare from a car coming down Hairpin Hill. She felt silly—she was letting the embellished stories of the tour guides get the better of her. "Are you going to the police with the hair you found?"
    B.J. shook his head. "You heard Hazel—thousands of people go through the museum every year, and that hair could belong to any one of them."
    "So you're not going to do anything with it?"
    "I didn't say that. I only have to prove that it did or didn't belong to Jodi Reynolds. I'll call her grand mother to see if she has a hairbrush of Jodi's. If there's a DNA match, then I'll go to the police."
    "How long will that take?"
    "A few days at the earliest." Then he frowned.
    She pressed her lips together, because she knew what he was thinking—wherever Jodi Reynolds was, she was probably dead...unfortunately, a few more days wasn't going to make a difference.
    As they rounded the corner of Charm Street, she saw in the distance that a crowd had gathered in front of the pink Victorian, some of them taking pictures. A television news crew was doing a report. Penny glanced toward her store. "I think I'm going to make a run for it and hide out in my office for a while."
    B.J. nodded. "Want to grab some dinner later?"
    Penny studied the angles of his handsome face, his piercing dark eyes, the sexy set of his shoulders. She was becoming too attracted to this man, too... trusting. His proximity and helpful nature were messing with her ability to think logically...and on her own.
    "I don't think so," she said slowly, hugging herself to resist the urge to touch him. "I need to straighten my apartment, and I need to get some rest."
    He nodded. "Sure. How about we meet tomorrow?"
    She hesitated. "My store is closed. I was planning to take in the festival, but I'm not sure—"
    "I'll drop by around noon."
    She bit down on the inside of her cheek, then sighed. "How about two o'clock?"
    "I'll bring the doughnuts." Then he grinned and strode away.
    Penny watched his retreating figure and groaned. She had no business forming an attachment to anybody right now, especially not to someone like B.J. Beaumont. She cut through The Charm Farm's backyard and walked alongside the building,