best for the pets they loved or the livestock that provided for their family.
“What a horrible thought,” she murmured. “Randi must have come in early to work and the monster was waiting for her.”
Jillian slowly shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.” She hesitated, as if debating whether to continue. At last she leaned forward, speaking low as cars started to pull into the parking lot. Obviously, it was getting close to time for the church service to begin. “I’m not supposed to be talking about it, but Randi’s husband told me Randi came home last evening at five just as she always did, but that after dinner she said she had to run back to the shop to arrange flowers for a funeral the next morning. She never came home.”
Lynne arched her brows. “Was that unusual?”
“We didn’t have any orders,” Jillian said. “In fact, we decided not to replenish our coolers because it was going to be a slow weekend.”
“She might have gotten the call for the order after she got home,” Lynne pointed out. It was a small town. It wouldn’t be unusual for someone to call a merchant at home, regardless of the day or time.
“If she did, she would have to wait until our vendor opened this morning to work on any arrangement,” Jillian insisted. “So why go that night?”
There was one obvious reason. Still, Lynne chose her words with care. She didn’t want Jillian bolting. “I know it’s awful to speak ill of the dead, but could she have been meeting someone at the shop?”
“You mean a client?”
“Or . . .” Lynne waited for an elderly couple to pass them on the way to the church. “A friend.”
“Oh.” Jillian blushed. “Not that I know of.”
“Sorry.” Lynne wrinkled her nose. “It’s just weird that she’d be out on such a cold night unless it was important.”
Jillian cleared her throat, looking like she was caught between good manners that insisted you didn’t gossip about the dead, and the fierce desire to share what she knew. “I suppose it’s possible she might have made plans to hook up with someone,” she finally conceded. “She’s been complaining lately how boring Ned is, and that she felt as if she was being buried alive.” She abruptly realized what she said, shoving her hands in the pockets of her coat. “God.”
“Was there anyone she was interested in?” Lynne quickly asked.
Jillian looked sick, obviously regretting mentioning Randi’s private complaints. “She’s never mentioned anyone. At least not to me. The sheriff took her laptop from the office, so there might be something on there.”
Lynne sent her a reassuring smile. If Randi had been cheating on her husband, she was convinced Jillian didn’t know. “Well, we all complain about our lives, don’t we,” she said in light tones. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
Jillian was instantly relieved. “No. And even if she was . . . indiscreet, I’m sure it wouldn’t have anything to do with what happened to her.”
Lynne wasn’t nearly so convinced, but she nodded in agreement. “True. It’s much more likely that whoever attacked her was a stranger.” She paused, not having to fake her sudden shiver. “Maybe someone who’s been creeping around the shop. Or following Randi.”
Jillian nodded. “That’s what I think.”
“Did you notice anyone?”
Jillian furrowed her brow as she tried to recall if there’d been any mysterious lurkers in the area. “No. No strangers.”
An unexpected pang of disappointment squeezed Lynne’s heart. It made her realize that a small, secret part of her was desperately clinging to the hope that the killer was an outsider who’d randomly chosen Pike to stalk his prey. Ridiculous, of course. Especially after the picture that had been left on her shed.
With an effort, she forced herself to ask the most obvious question. “Randi was a beautiful woman who ran her own business. Did any of the locals hang around making a pest of themselves? Or expect extra attention?”
Jillian shook her head. “Most people call in their orders and we deliver them,” she told Lynne. She shrugged. “The only person we’ve had any problems with is Nash Cordon.”
“Nash?”
Jillian raised a gloved hand to her lips. “Oh, sorry. I forgot the two of you are a couple.”
Lynne shuddered. Her relationship with Nash seemed like a lifetime ago. “We haven’t been a couple for weeks,” she assured her companion. “What did he do?”
Jillian took a step closer as more parishioners funneled past them. In the distance the sound of someone picking out notes on an organ filtered through