Love Can Be Murder

composure.
    He sighed, clearly frustrated. "Are you still up for going to the festival?"
    After a moment's hesitation, she nodded. "I want to talk to the woman at the voodoo doll booth."
    He winked. "Good thinking. Let's go."
    "Thank you for changing the bulbs," she said as they walked down the stairs.
    "No problem," he said, although she had the distinct feeling he was thinking that maybe there was something she needed more than lightbulbs after all.
    Out in the square, the festival was rolling along, marred only by a few churchgoers holding signs that read "Jesus Saves, not Voodoo."
    "I wonder if someone in that crowd is behind the graffiti at Diane Davidson's house," B.J. murmured.
    Penny studied his profile and felt a warm rush in her chest that dismayed her. B.J. Beaumont truly championed the underdogs of the world, and he stirred her like no man ever had.
    Then he sniffed the air. "I'm starving. Want a sausage on a stick?"
    And then there was the man's eating habits. She laughed and shook her head no. "I'll be over there," she said, pointing to the booth she sought.
    On the way, she skirted the peristil, wondering about the masked priestess who had so spooked her Friday night. Did the woman know something bad was about to happen to Penny...or could she have caused it?
    Penny tried to shake off the silly thoughts of black magic but found it difficult not to be drawn into the mystique when she was surrounded by the sights and sounds of voodoo, where she could witness how seriously the people took their religion. She approached the booth with the voodoo dolls, noticing the inventory had nearly been depleted.
    "You were here the other night," the woman said when she saw Penny surveying the dolls.
    "That's right. What can you tell me about voodoo dolls?"
    The woman smiled. She was missing a tooth. "What do you want to know?"
    Penny squirmed. "Do they work?"
    "Of course. If something is attached to the doll that belongs to the person, and if the person who uses the doll believes in what they're doing."
    Penny wet her lips and glanced around to make sure neither B.J. nor anyone else she knew was within hearing distance. "Is it possible to...accidentally make something happen that you didn't mean to happen?"
    The woman nodded. "Yes, if the passion is there—anger, love, jealousy."
    Penny swallowed hard. She had certainly been passionate when she'd stabbed that doll.
    "Did you find what you were looking for?" B.J. asked. He was chomping a sausage that was almost as big as her arm.
    She frowned. "You don't want to know how many fillers and preservatives are in that piece of meat."
    He grinned. "You're right—I don't." Then he nodded toward the park where two guitarists were setting up. "Come on, let's go have some fun."
    For the rest of the afternoon, Penny tried to put Deke's murder out of her mind and focus on the living that was going on all around her—the children who were laughing and singing, the people who danced and clapped to the music, the families who walked with their hands chained together. She watched the families with envy, wondering how different her life might have been if she'd been sandwiched between a loving mother and father. At one point, she caught B.J. watching her watch them.
    "Where's your family?" he asked.
    "I don't have any," she said. Her rote answer. "I heard you mention a niece and nephew in the souvenir shop. Do you have a big family?"
    "Nope," he said lazily. "Just me and my brother and our mother."
    "So where do the niece and nephew come in?"
    "In the future, hopefully," he said with a smile. "I thought it sounded better to say I was buying those things for my niece and nephew than to say I was buying them for myself."
    She frowned. "Why did you want bottles of crushed limestone?"
    He shrugged. "Just curious, I guess." Then he winked. "Ditto for the handcuffs."
    Penny burned with more questions about his family and his background, but she was afraid he might ask questions about her family and background. They sat in the grass and listened to the music until the day's festivities began to wind down, with Penny fighting the growing realization that she simply enjoyed B.J.'s company.
    "I should be getting back," she said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and I know it's going to be a long day."
    He nodded and pushed to his feet, then extended his hand. She clasped his warm fingers, then allowed him to pull her up, close to his body. A thrill of awareness traveled through her; the attraction