Gilt Trip Read Online Free PDF Page B

throat.
    Carmela hastened to the window to peer out cautiously. And saw . . . absolutely nothing. Just the low branches of a live oak tree swaying in the evening breeze, the small fountain pattering away.
    But she had heard something.
    Just like I heard something outside Jerry Earl’s office window.
    For some reason that incident had completely slipped her mind! But now Carmela knew she had to tell Detective Gallant. It could have been nothing, or it could be a detail that was critical to his investigation!
    Should she call Gallant right now? She started across the room to grab her phone, then stopped. Walked back over instead and double-checked the lock on her window.
    Tomorrow, Carmela decided. She’d definitely tell him tomorrow.

Chapter 4
    A FTER spending a fitful night, Carmela was excited to get back to the Monday morning normalcy and routine of her scrapbook shop. She lifted a knee, angled her hip, and bumped open the front door of Memory Mine—all the while juggling two cups of chicory coffee that she’d picked up at the nearby Café du Monde.
    She also carried a ubiquitous green-striped cardboard container that held the richest, sweetest treats known to man or beast. Because after what she’d been through the night before, Carmela had decided she needed a delicious and sugary kick-start to her morning. And then there was Gabby to contend with.
    Gabby Mercer-Morris, her very capable assistant, saw her struggling to get through the door and quickly lunged to help. Grabbing the cardboard box, she said, “Let me help you with that.”
    Carmela had to laugh. Gabby had gone for the good stuff right away. “It’s the Pavlov dog effect, isn’t it?” she said. “This box could be empty, but you’d still start salivating.”
    â€œIf I know you,” said Gabby, brushing back blondish-brown shoulder-length hair, “it’s not empty.” She raised delicate eyebrows as she eagerly pried open the box to reveal three powdered sugar–covered beignets. “Wow. Talk about loot.”
    â€œThere’s more,” said Carmela. She carefully placed a small jar of raspberry jam and a container of vanilla dipping sauce on the counter.
    Gabby took in the sweet treats and raised her eyes to Carmela. “Okay, what’s wrong? What happened?”
    Carmela handed one of the coffees to Gabby and said, “What do you mean?” What she was really thinking was
: Doggone it! After working together for five years, Gabby knows me a little too well!
    â€œRaspberry jam? And dipping sauce?” said Gabby. “These are heavy-duty stress busters. What’s going on? Did you break up with Babcock?”
    Carmela shook her head. “No. Thank goodness.”
    â€œWell,
something
happened,” said Gabby. She plucked a beignet from the carton and held it daintily to her nose. “Ah, the delicate essence of powdered sugar, oil, and . . . what? Is it butterfat that smells so divine?”
    â€œHas to be,” said Carmela.
    Gabby took a bite and waggled her fingers. “So c’mon. What gives?”
    Carmela knew she had to spill the beans eventually. “Okay, do you remember the lady I did the party invitations for last week? The Get Out of Jail Free Party?”
    â€œSure,” said Gabby, chewing. “Margo somebody.”
    Carmela nodded. “That’s right. Margo Leland. Well, Ava and I went to her party last night and there was an incident. Really an accident.”
    Gabby took another bite of beignet. “Yeah?”
    â€œBasically,” said Carmela, trying to back her way into an explanation, “Margo’s husband was murdered.”
    Gabby’s eyes suddenly bulged as roundly as her cheeks, which were stuffed with half a beignet. “What!” she cried out in surprise. Only it came out “Whuh?”
    â€œMargo’s husband, Jerry Earl?” continued Carmela. “I found him