Joanna Campbell Slan - Make, Take, Murder (A Kiki Lowenstein Scrap-N-Craft Mystery)

Make, Take, Murder: A Kiki Lowenstein Scrap-N-Craft Mystery 2011 by Joanna Campbell Slan.

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First e-book edition 2011

E-book ISBN: 9780738728865

Book design and format by Donna Burch

Cover design by Kevin R. Brown

Cover images: X-Acto: iStockphoto.com/Matthew Lunz,

Office Supplies: iStockphoto.com/Evgeniy Ivanov,

Buttons: iStockphoto.com/lishenjun,

Retro Pattern: iStockphoto.com/franz45,

Check Pattern: iStockphoto.com/Ekaterina Romanova

Editing by Connie Hill

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Monday, December 14

I was rummaging around in the trash Dumpster searching for my lost paycheck, when I reached down and grabbed Cindy Gambrowskis severed leg.

Of course, I didnt know it was her leg. I didnt know whose leg it was.

In fact, I couldnt even be sure it was a real, liveer, deadleg at all. I told myself I was nuts. (Which I probably am.) I immediately dropped what I was holding.

Eeeeek! I screamed. Its its a leg! I found a leg.

Ha, ha, ha. Very funny, Kiki Lowenstein. When youre finished being a complete dope, how about you find your paycheck so you can get out of there? said Bama. Weve got our Monday night crop to prep for.

Thats my business partner for you. She has all the empathy of a pet rock. Clearly, she was not planning to come to my assistance. She thought I was kidding about the leg. Or wrong.

Well, maybe I was.

I swallowed hard and told myself to calm down.

After all, how could a human shin complete with five toes get inside the big green trash bin? Why would anyone dump body parts in with the paper garbage we generated at Time in a Bottle, the scrapbook store where Bama and I work?

This had to be someones idea of a sick joke. I must have been mistaken. Whod put a body part in the Dumpster? Especially in our trash bin? Dont be ridiculous , I told myself. Concentrate on finding that paycheck so you can get out of here.

If only I could see better!

Its pretty dark inside a Dumpster with the lid propped open only an inch. The day dawned unusually warm for December, but thats St. Louis for you. We tend to swing from one extreme to another. Either we suffer from muggy, ghastly hot days, or we rival polar expeditions for bone-chilling cold. You can walk outside to a clear sky one minute, dodge pelting golf balls of hail the next, and finish the twenty-four-hour period with a pea-soup colored haze announcing an oncoming tornado. It sure isnt boring; Ill give it that!

Neither was my life.

I need some help here, Bama! I called. I figured at the very least shed hold the lid open for me, but no. She had given me a boost so I could climb into the slime pit. But that was all. After I scrambled over the edge and into the trash, Bama stuck a small stick under the metal lid and backed away. Bama didnt care how tough a time I was having. This was her passive-aggressive way of teaching me a lesson.

Unless I also learned Braille, this education was going nowherefast. Too darn dark in here to see anything!

Im not climbing in after you, Kiki. I wont. Dont ask. Quit whining and find your paycheck. I still have to count out the register and get the store open.

Well, I did, too. I was eager for the activity that would take my mind off how horrible my twelve-year-old daughter was behaving lately.

This is all your fault, Bama called to me, by way of adding insult to smelly injury.

Duh. That I knew. I should have paid attention. I shouldnt have pushed all those loose papers into the trash can by the desk. I should have put my paycheck in my purse the moment Bama handed it over.

Shoulda. Woulda. Coulda.

And didnt.

When I discovered my mistake, Bama explained she was not about to reissue my paycheck, thank you. That costs money. Correction: That wastes money. You tossed it, you lost it.

I could tell by the smirk she was proud of her little rhyme. In fact, I bet she was standing outside grinning from ear to ear. All right, I would take my bitter medicine. But I couldnt perform my punishment without more light. Bama, Im trying! I want out of here. But I cant see anything! Lift the lid higher!

Cant. Dont want to touch it. Ill get dirty. She wore a brand-new, cardinal-red wrap coat that I coveted. I had finally, reluctantly, resigned my old winter coat to the garbage. Moths feasted on the sleeves over the summer. The lining drooped sadly out from under the hem. An unidentified stain crept across the shoulder blades.

I hoped our store was making money. If we were, perhaps I could use a part of the bonus to buy a new coat at the after-Christmas sales. I also wanted to purchase a nice Hanukkah gift for my daughter Anya. She lusted after a pair of Uggs. All my friends own a pair, she pouted.

But instead of prepping for our upcoming crop or creating displays to entice our customers to spend money, I was stuck here in the trash bin, digging around for my lost paycheck. With no help forthcoming from my partner, Bama. None at all!

She is so annoying.

At least go get me some light! I told myself I must be hallucinating to think Id touched anything remotely human. But then, I havent been sleeping well lately. No wonder my imagination shifted to high alert status.

Hang on, she yelled. Ill be back. Dont go anywhere.

As if I could! I was too short to climb out of the dumpster without (a) a hand up or (b) a ladder. Instead, I snuggled into the corner far away from the icky, sticky human calf-shaped thing Id tossed back into the mess. At least in the corner, nothing could come up behind me.

I felt a tickle.

Something fell down the back of my blouse! I yelled so loud I thought I ejected my tonsils.

But Bama wasnt around to hear me. I tugged at my top and did the shimmy, hoping whatever small creature was sharing my clothing would vacate the building. Pronto.