Framed to Death (A Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery Book 4)

by Christina Freeburn

“People’s lives are in jeopardy.”

  A buzz filled the air. First bell.

  “What does it matter?” Kirstin’s gaze darted to and fro, looking for a savior. “This will all end soon and you’ll be off the hook.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Kirstin heaved out an anxious breath, brows drawing down over her worry-filled gray eyes. “I just do. It’s not like you can smuggle potpourri into your regular inventory. You guys don’t sell it.”

  Into your inventory. Did Kirstin just let something slip? “Which store is?”

  She blanched. “I don’t know. How would I know?”

  “You said we couldn’t smuggle it into our inventory. And you’re quite certain this will go away. That gives me the impression you know who is selling it.”

  Kirstin bit her lip, looking around nervously.

  “If you know something, you have to tell the police. People’s lives are being ruined. Someone could get seriously hurt.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “You don’t understand. You don’t need the Rutherfords to like you to have a job. My mom does.”

  “Who do you think is going to be blamed next when I’m cleared?”

  Kirstin smiled. “Hannah.”

  “No. You. The police have your and Whitney’s statement. Hannah was in the back doing laundry when the drugs were brought into the store. Remember?”

  Kirstin’s eyes widened, and we stared at each other for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. “If Whitney isn’t at cheerleading practice or a game, you can find her at Upcycle Wear, Made With Love, or Piece A Pie.”

  “I didn’t know Piece A Pie was still a teen hangout.”

  “It’s not.” Kirstin checked the time on her phone. “I have to go.”

  “How did Hannah get wrapped up into this?”

  “Because Brandon almost died.”

  Coldness swept the back of my head. Someone was watching me. I slowly turned, trying to act casual and not like I was up to something. Principal Hanover stood right outside the front door of the school, gaze zeroed in on us. Had the final bell rung? The man had the same stern expression I remembered seeing every day when I was in high school. He had just been hired as the new principal, coming up from the elementary school. Students in my class were thrilled, assuming the principal for a bunch of babies would be a pushover for them. We hadn’t thought he’d last long on the job, yet fifteen years later he was still in charge of Eden High.

  Principal Hanover strode over, staring at my hand lingering on Kirstin’s arm. “You’re thirty seconds away from being tardy, young lady.”

  I placed my arms behind my back. “It’s my fault. I wanted to ask her a few questions—”

  Principal Hanover held out a hand. “I’m sure you do, Miss Hunter. Kirstin, go inside and pick up an excused tardy slip from the secretary.”

  She scampered away.

  “I hope you’re not trying to browbeat any of the students into changing the statements they made to the police.”

  “Just trying to get to the truth.”

  “Which from my understanding, the police already have.”

  “No, they don’t,” I said.

  “I’m sure that’s what you’d like everyone to believe.” Hanover settled a disapproving look on me. “I’m asking you to stay away from school grounds. Parents will not be pleased to find out you were spotted here talking to the students.”

  “I’m not doing anything illegal.”

  “That will depend upon everyone’s interpretation of what you were doing here. Seeking the truth, or selling drugs.”

  He had a point. As long as my name was in the running as Eden’s drug dealer, parents would automatically think the worst of my being here, especially when I was lurking behind columns and conversing with students in parking lots.

  FIVE

  I couldn’t get a hold of Charlotte on her cell, so I called Polished. While I waited for her to answer, I planned out my stops. Upcycle Wear. Made With Love. And even though it meant backtracking, I’d save Piece A Pie for last. I’d get there around lunch time and pick up some pizza along with information.

  Charlotte finally answered. “Polished—”

  “It’s Faith. I have three places on the ‘most likely to have sold the drugs’ list. I’m heading to store number one.”

  “Not alone, I hope.”

  “It’s not like I can bring along police backup or my grandmothers.”

  “Let me see what I can work out. What’s your first stop?”

  “Upcycle Wear.”

  “Okay, I’m going to finalize a few things and then head over.”

  “Is it a good idea for you to close your place?”

  Charlotte let out a small bitter laugh. “I’ve had one visitor all morning, and all they wanted was to use my restroom.”

  I hung up and headed over. Upcycle was a small store in a new shopping plaza near the high school. Most of the store fronts for rent in the center remained empty, and the high traffic time was on Friday nights when there was a home game at the football stadium and the large parking lot was used for overflow parking. Eden had tried morphing itself into a business-friendly town, wooing owners to open up shops here, but it hadn’t worked. Our proximity, or rather, lack of it, to the interstate hadn’t brought in droves of entrepreneurs like the town council thought.

  Like usual, the lot was almost empty. I parked near the front door of Upcycle. The front doors were decorated with hanging clothing. Most of the apparel was little girl t-shirts turned into ruffled dresses adorned with cartoon characters. The items were cute, but I didn’t have anyone in my life who fell into that age category. Maybe Ted would like one for his daughter, though I didn’t know if our friendship was at the level where buying his daughter a gift wouldn’t be seen as something more—like that I’d showed up at a store to snoop around.

  Unfortunately, Ted knew me so well that he’d know within a second I’d been out and about trying to prove my innocence and that Upcycle was on my list.

  A bell jingled as I walked into the store. The front counter was littered with fabric remnants, ribbons, and business cards of all shapes and sizes. An attractive man wearing an Eden Volunteer Fire Department t-shirt tapped a business card on the glass counter. He looked over at me. Sally, the proprietor and seamstress, was nowhere to be seen.

  I walked over to a display of dresser drawer satchels. There wasn’t much else I’d think a high schooler would be interested in. The small tulle bags were filled with potpourri. I picked one up, inspecting it from every angle. It was a little heavier than the ones the girls had in Polished, but I was sure the owner wouldn’t have the illegal substance out on display. I sniffed it.

  “She has other scents in the back room,” the guy said.

  “I’m just browsing right now. Thanks though.” Was there a way for me to get back there?

  “I’m not sure—” Sally stepped out from the back, growing silent as her gaze found me. Her skin paled and she shot a worried look at the guy.

  Seconds later, the door opened and Felicity stormed in. “I should’ve known it was you. I called the police. They’ll be here in a second.”

  The owner exchanged another look with the guy. He rolled his eyes and let out a huge exasperated sigh.

  “Don’t count on it, Felicity,” the guy said.

  Felicity grabbed one of the satchels from the display and dropped it into her oversized purse. “Once they test this stuff in the lab, they’ll be here to lock her up.”

  “You have to pay for that first or you’re stealing,” I said.

  “No, I’m not. I’m confiscating contraband items.” Felicity clamped her arm against her purse.

  “She can have it. Just get her out of here.” Sally practically collapsed against the glass counter
. “And you too. I know what you’re doing here, Faith.”

  “I’m here to look for a present…for a little girl.” I blurted out the first good reason my mind conjured up. I hoped Ted’s daughter liked ruffled dresses.

  “I’m not stupid. My shop is the closest to the high school. I sell potpourri.” Sally picked up a newspaper and waved it around. “And the front page news story is about how the Scrap This owners’ granddaughter was taken to the police station for questioning regarding the distribution of Janie.”

  I drew back a little. I wasn’t surprised it was news; I was surprised I hadn’t considered that happening. My sleep deprivation was worse than I thought.

  “Daniel Burke being here is more proof.” Felicity stamped her foot.

  Daniel, the guy in the Fire Department t-shirt, crossed his arms, looking with sympathy at Felicity. “And why’s that, Felicity?”

  “Because you were at the bonfire the football team held the night of Brandon’s accident. Don’t think Brandon hasn’t told me how often you show up.”

  “I was there because the owner of Made With Love asked me if I could make sure the kids put the fire out correctly. He was afraid his place would burn down. I warned him about letting the team have the after-graduation celebration behind his property, but he thought it would bring in some business. Parents being grateful.”

  “And did it work?” I asked.

  Not that I wanted a bonfire behind our store, even if we had the proper set-up. Our “backyard” consisted of asphalt and dumpsters.

  “The teens asked about holding one in the clearing behind my store since it’s close to the high school,” Sally said. “That’s why Daniel is here. I wanted his advice.”

  “I don’t believe either of you,” Felicity said. Daniel and Sally continued with their conversation, not carrying about Felicity’s opinion.

  “Not a good idea,” Daniel said. “The field out there gets really dry and with all of these empty buildings, it could spread quick.”

  “I guess my merchandise isn’t something that would interest teens anyway. It’s not like I’d get a bump in sales for it.”

  I looked around the store. Upcycle had a lot of cute clothes, most of them geared toward the preschool and elementary-school set who were in love with princesses. I examined the clothing closer. The stitching was intricate, each piece with a different pattern. “Have you thought about giving classes? Some scrappers love sewing on their pages, and you have some beautiful stitching on your pieces.”

  Sally smiled at me.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. I can whip up a sample board and some ideas for one.”

  “Sounds great. I’m working on some new classes for the fall. Drop it by and I’ll talk to my grandmothers. I’m sure they’ll go for it.”

  “Why are you helping her?” Felicity asked me through gritted teeth. “She’s our enemy.”

  Our?

  My confusion apparently showed on my face as Felicity rushed into an explanation. “Charlotte told me to meet you here so I’d see you weren’t the one selling the drugs. You were just a victim of circumstance.”

  “I’m not the dealer,” Sally screeched.

  Daniel patted her hand. “Don’t worry. Two weeks ago, she was certain it was Andrew Taylor and got him suspended from the volunteer fire squad. By tomorrow, she’ll have a new choice as the town drug dealer.”

  “He deserved it. Norman never should’ve let him join. He knows his son-in-law is a drunk.”

  “Doesn’t make him a drug dealer,” Daniel said.

  “He was also at the bonfires. And I know that’s where those children are getting the drugs.”

  “Then why let Brandon attend them?” Daniel leaned against the counter.

  “It was a team event. I believed he’d be protected. But no one cared about him.” A tear snaked down Felicity’s reddening cheeks.

  “Why didn’t he call the police and tell them?” I asked.

  “He didn’t think it was harmful,” Felicity said. “And he didn’t plan on ever using it.”

  “He changed his mind?” The anger coming from Felicity seemed to come from something deeper than just her son using the synthetic marijuana.

  “No. Someone tricked him into taking it.”

  “What?” the three of us shouted together.

  “Brandon had too much to lose if he started taking drugs. He knew he’d have scholarship offers coming in. It was his only way to go to college.” More tears cascaded down her face as her whole body trembled. “We can’t afford to send him.”

  “Who would’ve done that to him?” I placed an arm around her shoulders.

  She shrugged.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel asked. “The football team is rowdy and has gotten away with vandalism, but I don’t see Coach Rutherford ignoring teammates drugging each other.”

  “I have it on good authority,” Felicity said.

  “Who?” I asked.

  “My son. Brandon swears he didn’t take it, but says someone did give him a cigarette that night. He was told it was just tobacco.”

  “Tell the police,” I said.

  “I have. Chief Moore doesn’t believe me.”

  The boy, or in this case, woman, who cried wolf syndrome.

  “Give him the proof,” I said.

  “There isn’t any.” Felicity’s shoulders collapsed forward. “Just ‘she said, she said.’ And the other she has a better standing in the community.”

  “Which she?”

  Felicity left the store without dropping a name.

  Felicity sat in the passenger seat of my car as I drove to Made With Love. She was so distraught, I couldn’t in good conscience leave her to drive herself home. Besides, I had a feeling she’d show up there herself. Not a good option either. I also hoped bringing Felicity with me created some trust between us, and she’d share the name. And it would be good to have her to act as a distraction while I looked around. If there was one thing Felicity had proven, she was good at disruptions.

  Made With Love was located on the edge of town, near the bridge leading residents out of Eden and into Maryland. The two-thousand-square-foot two-story house was on the right side of 220 on a small incline. The house was painted a cream color with light blue shutters, holding onto its original quaint charm.

  “When we get there, I’ll do all the talking,” I said.

  “No. I have the right to confront them myself.”

  “And that’s the problem. We don’t want to confront them, we want to talk. You catch more flies with honey.”

  “I don’t want flies. They’re nuisances and have no redeeming value.”

  I stayed silent. She had a point, though not a very good one.

  The front and side gravel parking lots were empty. Paper cups, plastic sandwich bags, and empty matchbooks littered the area. Using the tips of my index finger and thumb, I snagged a couple of the sandwich bags and tossed them into my backseat.

  If these bags had contained some Janie, the police now had real evidence. I also took a few photos on my phone of the ones I left behind. I wasn’t quite sure if Ted would—or even could—take my word for it.

  And I was even less sure that having Felicity Sullivan as my back-up witness worked in my favor.

  We walked into the store. The walls that had separated the main area into living spaces were knocked down, turning the area into a thousand square feet of retail space, most of it empty of merchandise. There was a wrought-iron spinning rack near the door with handmade scarves hanging from the hooks. Bookshelves held a few children’s and recipe books, but otherwise they were bare. On the wall behind the register area were tall shelving units filled with small bottles of essential oils and organza bags filled with potpourri. The bags were similar in style to the one I saw at Polished.<
br />
  With a pile of papers in front of her, Dawn Carr hunched over a granite countertop, fingers shoved into her hair.

  I approached her, wanting a closer view of the fragrances.

  Dawn’s attention was so focused, she didn’t hear us come in or Felicity’s heavy stomping. The papers were for an insurance policy for the store. I should ask my grandmothers where we kept ours. It was another part of the business I didn’t know anything about, and while I hoped we’d never use it, I should know where it was for safekeeping.

  “May I see one of the bags of fragrances?” I asked.

  “Sure,” Dawn said, without taking her gaze off the paperwork. She plucked a bag from the rack and handed it over.

  The scent of roses and lemon wafted toward me. Tiny bits of lemon peel were in the bag, along with rose petals. This type of potpourri wasn’t ground as much as Janie. The organza was a pale blue, the texture the same as the Janie satchel.

  “What are you doing?”

  A furious Chad Carr snatched the pouch out of my hand. His tattered jeans hung low on his skinny frame, and his Eden High School t-shirt was two sizes too large for his lanky frame.

  “Shopping,” I said.

  Where had Felicity wandered off to? I didn’t see her in the main part of the building.

  Dawn gathered up the papers, shoving them into a cardboard box. “Honey, Faith isn’t doing anything wrong.”

  “She’s playing Miss Innocent.” Chad grabbed my arm. “I want her out of here.”

  “Why? Are you hiding something?” Felicity wandered over with a blinged-out lighter in one hand and something similar to an electronic cigarette in the other. “Do you just add the potpourri mix into this contraption and light it?”

  “Why don’t you ask your son?” Chad sneered at her. “I’m not stupid. You two are here to blame me for his accident. I already told you I didn’t give your kid anything.”

  “I know it’s you.” Felicity threw the vaporizer at Chad’s head. He easily swatted it away. “Brandon attended your bonfire—”