A Suspicion of Strawberries (Scents of Murder Book 1) by Lynette Sowell Page A

time.
    “The years have gone by fast, haven’t they?” Now he sounded like he was at the brink of a midlife crisis a few years early.
    I nodded. “Sometimes I wish you could come home from the road, but I don’t know what you’d do for work.” The idea hit me like a wave. He had hit the road after his uncle’s construction company folded and hadn’t looked back.
    He hadn’t asked me if I minded him going out on the road, either, but at that time we hadn’t been a couple for long. Now I was thirty-five, and he was thirty-seven. Time hadn’t stopped for us.
    “What if I did come home? Where would we be, then?”
    I opened my mouth to answer.
    “Ben Hartley, how’s it going?” Someone from the church softball team clapped Ben on the back. They chatted for a few minutes as I scanned the area. I thought I saw a man with a goatee at the far corner. Mike. My pulse pounded. Just thinking about talking to him was like planning to give a bath to a Rottweiler.
    “You ready to get those strawberries?” Ben turned back to me and touched my arm.
    I nodded, and we headed for the corner where I thought I’d seen Mike standing behind a table full of red strawberries. He was stacking a fresh tray of green plastic baskets that brimmed with the red fruit. His right hand was wrapped in a bandage.
    “Hi there, Mr. Chandler.”
    A glimmer of a smile flashed across Mike’s face. “Call me Mike. Mr. Chandler’s my daddy.”
    So far, so good. “Andi Clark. I, um, run the soap store in town.”
    He gave us each a glance. “Ah, so that’s your place?”
    “That’s right. I need a few of these.” I pointed to some of the strawberries.
    “Good deal. I’ll probably have a couple more weeks of berries, then that’s it for the year.” He shrugged. “Should have a ton of watermelons, though, so stop back. Fourth of July’s not far off.”
    “No, it’s not.” I looked at Ben, hoping he’d say something. Make some guy small talk. Anything. Fishing? I already knew how much he hated golf.
    “So, how’s business?” Mike asked.
    “It could be better,” I admitted. “All new businesses struggle at first, but I’m hoping things will pick up after this recent setback.”
    “Yep, Charla Thacker’s been a setback to a lot of people.” Mike’s jaw tightened.
    “She wasn’t responsible for what happened.” Since Ben was choosing to stay mum at the moment, I took matters into my own hands. “But I’m wondering if someone else was.”
    “I call it poetic justice.” At his harsh tone, several passersby glanced at us and continued on their way.
    “You seem pretty angry at her.”
    “And her creep of a fiancé.”
    “I saw Robert's face.” I decided to strike with my knowledge. “So why’d you hit him?”
    Mike frowned. “Some people don’t deserve what they get. He didn’t. Not with all his money. He didn’t deserve her.”
    I rubbed my forehead. “Mike, I don’t understand. She sued you for trying to poison her with strawberries last summer. I heard you say you would’ve liked to have seen her suffer. Yet you went and decked her fiancé.”
    Mike’s eyes flashed. “He’s slime. I would have never done to Charla what he did. I might have a short fuse that burns fast, but I’m not a lying, two-faced cheat.”
    “What did he do?” Maybe I was on to something about Robert not seeming as grief-stricken as he appeared.
    “You know what? It’s not for me to say.” Mike blinked and stared at the baskets of strawberries.
    And then I knew. “You still loved her, didn’t you?”
    “They say you always hurt the one you love.” Mike’s brow furrowed. “She and I, we did. Maybe I did some stupid stunts, and maybe she was shallow, but I loved her.”
    “What about killing someone?”
    Mike placed both hands on the table and looked me straight in the eye. “Yeah, at one time I probably could’ve killed her.”
     
     
     
    Chapter Ten
    “After that lawsuit, I wanted her to suffer for almost putting me