The door chimed. Sarah assessed the well–dressed woman who entered the shop. Probably in her sixties, with a large designer purse draped over one shoulder. A hat with ribbon trim and black leather gloves made her a bit old–fashioned and out of place for the tiny Oregon town, but a customer was a customer. Sarah gave the woman her biggest smile and stepped out from behind the counter. "Good morning, ma'am. Welcome to That Special Something. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"My niece is getting married. I thought I might find something out of the ordinary here." Her voice was clipped, with a touch of sophisticated arrogance that said she was used to getting her way.

"Unique gifts are my specialty." Sarah motioned to a display of crystal. "Perhaps she'd like these hand–painted wine goblets? Or some of these Egyptian perfume bottles?"

"Thank you. I'll browse for a while, if you don't mind."

"Take your time. I'm Sarah. Feel free to ask any questions." Fighting the urge to follow her customer around, Sarah retreated and let the woman roam the shop.

The way Chris had referred to David's death churned through her thoughts. That horrible pause. The same one everyone used. But Sarah knew it had been an accident. David would never commit suicide. This afternoon, she'd get a loan from the bank and rehire the private investigator, or find a better one. The investigator would get the police to reopen the case and they'd find out it wasn't suicide. Then she'd get the insurance money, which would pay off the loan and the shop would be safe. It made perfect sense. And maybe it would eliminate some of the guilt.

Sarah dragged her thoughts to the present, straightened her shoulders, and found her professional smile again. Her customer was studying some silver picture frames. Expensive ones. She thought about how hard it had been to get Anjolie to display her work in the shop, that her creations were too good for a mere boutique.

She telegraphed mental messages to her customer—Please, show Anjolie she was wrong. Buy one. Buy six.

The woman set the frame down and turned away.

Sarah wouldn't let her disappointment show. "Can I show you something else?"

The woman strolled back and fingered the frames again. "You know, I like this one." She picked up the most expensive one, the one with the lacy pattern of roses and leaves. "And I think I'll take the matching vase over there."

Not good to let a customer see you jumping up and down clapping your hands. Instead, Sarah called up her most professional tone. "Excellent choices, ma'am. Would you like them gift–wrapped?"

"No, thank you. But if you have gift boxes, I would appreciate it."

Sarah ducked beneath the counter for the boxes, calculating what the sale would mean to her bottom line. When she rose, she stared into a gun barrel.