Nickeled-And-Dimed to Death
Read Nickeled-And-Dimed to Death Online
Authors: Denise Swanson
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Cozy, #Women Sleuths, #General
Praise for
Little Shop of Homicide
“Veteran author Swanson debuts a spunky new heroine with a Missouri stubborn streak. . . . Readers will like this one for its slightly zany, multigenerational take on small-town mores.”
—
Library Journal
(Starred Review)
“A new entertaining mystery series that her fans will appreciate. . . . With a touch of romance in the air, readers will enjoy this delightful cozy.”
—Genre Go Round Reviews
“Swanson has a gift for portraying small-town life, making it interesting, and finding both the ridiculous and the satisfying parts of living in one. I wish Dev a long and happy shelf life.”
—AnnArbor.com
“A top-notch new mystery . . . all the right ingredients for another successful series.”
—
Romantic Times
Praise for the Scumble River Mystery Series
“Endearing . . . quirky . . . a delight.”
—
Chicago Tribune
“Bounces along with gently wry humor and jaunty twists and turns. The quintessential amateur sleuth: bright, curious, and more than a little nervy.”
—Agatha Award–winning author Earlene Fowler
“Charming, insightful.”
—Carolyn Hart, author of
Death Comes Silently
“[A] lively, light, and quite insightful look at small-town life.”
—
Hartford Courant
“A fun and fast-paced mystery. . . . As always, Skye Dennison and Scumble River provide a reliable, enjoyable mystery. Reading about Scumble River is as comfortable as being in your own hometown.”
—The Mystery Reader
“Top-notch storytelling, with truly unique and wonderful characters.”
—
CrimeSpree Magazine
“Smartly spins on a solid plot and likable characters.”
—
South Florida Sun-Sentinel
“Denise Swanson keeps getting better and better. . . . She knows just how to add humor and warmth to her books, making them unforgettable reads!”
—Roundtable Reviews
“A magnificent tale written by a wonderful author.”
—
Midwest Book Review
“Denise Swanson hits all the right notes in this brisk and witty peek at small-town foibles and foul play.”
—
Romantic Times
(Top Pick)
“Another sidesplitting visit to Scumble River . . . with some of the quirkiest and most eccentric characters we ever have met.”
—
Butler County Post
(KY)
“An endearing and realistic character . . . a fast-paced, enjoyable read.”
—
The Herald News
(MA)
“Delightful.”
—
Mysterious Women
“Another delightful and intriguing escapade.”
—Mystery News
“More fun than the Whirl-A-Gig at the County Fair and tastier than a corn dog.”
—The Charlotte Austin Review
Also by Denise Swanson
DEVEREAUX’S DIME STORE MYSTERIES
Little Shop of Homicide
SCUMBLE RIVER MYSTERIES
Murder of the Cat’s Meow
“Not a Monster of a Chance,” short story in
And the Dying Is Easy
“Dead Blondes Tell No Tales,” e-book novella in
Drop-Dead Blonde
Murder of a Creped Suzette
Murder of a Bookstore Babe
Murder of a Wedding Belle
Murder of a Royal Pain
Murder of a Chocolate-Covered Cherry
Murder of a Botoxed Blonde
Murder of a Real Bad Boy
Murder of a Smart Cookie
Murder of a Pink Elephant
Murder of a Barbie and Ken
Murder of a Snake in the Grass
Murder of a Sleeping Beauty
Murder of a Sweet Old Lady
Murder of a Small-Town Honey
Nickeled-and-Dimed to Death
A Devereaux’s Dime Store Mystery
Denise Swanson
OBSIDIAN
Published by New American Library, a division of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street,
New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto,
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80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Obsidian, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-101-60409-0
Copyright © Denise Swanson Stybr, 2013
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
OBSIDIAN and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Contents
Preview of Murder of a Stacked Librarian
Thanks to all my Facebook peeps, who answer my questions, wade in with their opinions, and encourage me to write the next book.
CHAPTER 1
I
mentally tapped my toe as I waited for Miss Ophelia to make her selection from the glass candy case. As the foremost authority on etiquette in Shadow Bend, Missouri—population 4,028—she’d been whipping the future generations of my hometown into excruciatingly correct behavior for the past fifty years. And since I had bought the dime store ten months ago, it had become her habit to stop in to purchase a single treat for herself every Saturday afternoon. Her last class on the proper way to dine, dance, and flirt with the opposite sex ended promptly at three thirty, and she arrived at my store exactly seven minutes later.
While Miss Ophelia dithered between a hand-dipped dulce de leche truffle and this month’s signature candy, a red velvet bonbon, I glanced at the vintage Ingraham schoolhouse regulator hanging on the wall behind the front counter. Although the clock was manufactured in the 1920s, its beautiful carved oak case, convex glass, and brass pendulum still looked brand-new, and it kept perfect time. It was now 3:52.
Eight more minutes and my weekend clerk, Xylia Locke, and I could shoo out the loiterers, flip off the neon
OPEN
sign, and bolt the door. Devereaux’s Dime Store and Gift Baskets closed at four on Saturday, and today I wasn’t letting the customers linger a single second longer. I had smoking-hot plans for the evening, and only ninety minutes to make myself beautiful enough to fulfill them.
After a lengthy verbal debate with herself, Miss Ophelia finally made her choice—completely changing her mind at the last minute and going with the butter crunch toffee. While Xylia was ringing up the older woman’s purchase, I began the process of herding the stragglers toward either the register, for those who wanted to make a purchase, or the exit, for those who were sitting at the soda fountain, using the free Wi-Fi and socializing.
My clerk had one foot over the threshold as she said good-bye to me, when an attractive thirtysomething brunette carrying a large package rushed past her into the store. I called out that we were closed, but the woman either didn’t hear me or ignored my admonishment. Xylia raised a questioning eyebrow, but I waved her away. Whatever the last-minute shopper wanted, she’d have to come back on Monday.
I locked the door behind my assistant, not wanting another eleventh-hour customer to sneak in, then said to the brunette standing near the cash register, “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the day.”
“Do you own this store?” the woman demanded, making no move to leave.
“Yes.” Considering the cardboard carton in her arms, I wondered if she had a complaint about a previous purchase. “I’m Devereaux Sinclair. And you are . . . ?”
“Elise Whitmore.” She thunked the box down on the marble counter, and I heard a metallic clinking sound. “I understand you like old stuff.” She scrutinized me, her expression clearly indicating that she found wanting my less-than-fashionable jeans, yellow sweatshirt with
DEVEREAUX’S DIME STORE
embroidered across the chest, and frizzy cinnamon gold hair scraped into a ponytail. “Is that true?”
“If you mean vintage and antique items, yes, I am interested in them. I both collect them and use them for the gift baskets I make.” When I had purchased the dime store, I had added the basket business.
“Good.” Elise unfolded the carton’s flaps and reached inside.
My treasure-hunting curiosity was piqued.
“I’ve got some old chocolate molds I want to sell.” Elise pulled out a pair of metal Easter Bunny casts. “What do you think?”
One bunny was close to a foot tall and had a basket attached to his back, and the other bunny, about half the size of the first, was carrying a mushroom. I loved them. They would be perfect for my Easter window display and for the traditional basket orders I had for the holiday. The erotic baskets I made needed a vastly different type of merchandise.
“They seem nice,” I answered neutrally, hoping to keep the price within a range I could afford. “How much do you want for them?”
“You can have the whole box for a thousand bucks.” Elise put down the ones she was holding, then lined up three more Easter-themed molds—a girl bunny, a set of four eggs, and a rabbit riding a duck.
I didn’t know much about these particular collectibles, but I had a hunch this was an extremely good deal. “Can you give me a second?” When she nodded, I slipped into the storeroom, bent over my computer, and typed
ANTIQUE CHOCOLATE MOLDS
into Bing.com.
Zowie!
According to several of the Web sites I clicked on, the largest rabbit alone was worth 950 dollars.
Suddenly afraid that the woman would leave or change her mind about selling the molds, I hurried back out to the sales floor and, keeping my voice cool, said, “Since they’re a seasonal item and there’s only three weeks left until Easter, I’ll give you seven fifty.”