Murder Unmentionable by Meg London Page A

that were the case, his bark would be very different. Someone must be outside.”
    Suddenly Pierre bolted from his bed and made straight for the door of Sweet Nothings, barking so excitedly that he levitated slightly off his paws with each bark.
    “Maybe the delivery men are here with the armoires!” Emma exclaimed. She waited, but there was no knock on the door.
    Pierre had stopped barking, but he continued to pace back and forth, his tail going like a metronome.
    Emma strode toward the door and pulled it open to find a young woman standing there. She was at least six feet tall and very pretty, with long, blond hair. She was holding what looked like a bakery box fastened with old-fashioned string.
    “Ohmygoodness,” she said so quickly that the words all ran together. “You must be Emma.”
    Emma stood at the door, openmouthed.
    The woman switched the box to her left hand and stuck out her right. “I’m Bitsy. Bitsy Palmer. Actually, it’s Catherine Palmer, but everyone has always called me Bitsy.”
    Emma couldn’t help it—she looked Bitsy up and down. Although she was very thin and trim, at six feet tall, she was definitely not bitsy!
    Bitsy laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. How did a long, tall drink of water like myself get a nickname like Bitsy? Well, it’s like this. I was born real premature and barely any more than three pounds. My uncle Mike said, ‘What a bitsy little thing,’ and it stuck. I’ve been Bitsy ever since.”
    “Who—”
    “I’m sorry. I should have said. I’m a friend of Liz’s, and she told me I’d better come right down here and welcome you home to Paris. Here.” She thrust the box at Emma. “I’vebrought you some cupcakes from my shop, Sprinkles. It’s down the street and just around the corner.” She motioned toward the window with one hand.
    “Thank you.” Emma took the box, still feeling slightly dumbstruck by the whirlwind that was Bitsy Palmer.
    “Liz is just the best, isn’t she?”
    Emma nodded.
    “You know that big old garden of hers, out back?”
    Emma nodded again.
    “She grows edible flowers for me. To decorate my cupcakes with.” Bitsy took the box back from Emma, slid off the string and opened the top. “See?” She pointed to the beautifully colored flowers that topped the cupcakes.
    Emma admired Bitsy’s handiwork. If they tasted even half as good as they looked, they would be spectacular. Emma had an idea. “You know we’re having a grand opening as soon as our renovations are done.” She gestured toward the interior of the shop. “We’d love to order some of your cupcakes. They’d be perfect.”
    Bitsy’s face broke into a huge grin. “It would be a pleasure and an honor.”
    Emma grinned back. She had the feeling she was really going to like Bitsy.
    “And if you ever need anything, anything at all, as I said, I’m just around the corner.”
    “Maybe we could get together sometime—”
    “That would be marvelous! And perhaps we can drag Liz away from those children and husband of hers!”
    Emma laughed. “It’s a deal.”
    “I almost forgot.” Bitsy retrieved a piece of paper from under her arm where she’d stowed it. “I found this stuck to your window.”
    “Thanks.”
    “See you then. I’ve got to run.”
    “Not another circular,” Arabella said with a sigh onceEmma had shut the door. “They usually shove them under the door, and I’ve nearly broken my neck slipping on them when I come in in the morning.”
    “I don’t think it’s a circular.” Emma held up the note so that Arabella could see the printing on the front.
    “Open it,” Arabella encouraged, peering closely over Emma’s shoulder.
    Emma unfolded the damp paper. The writing inside was the same as the shaky capital letters on the front.
    “What does it say?” Arabella fished for the glasses that hung from a beaded chain around her neck.
    Emma shivered. “It says, ‘Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, or someone is going to