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his own drinking, free spending, and carousing were concerned. Then the blinders went on big-time.
    “But you were mentioned only in passing,” said Gabby. “As a kind of witness.” She glanced at the paper and furrowed her brow. “But it also says there’d been something like forty different witnesses and that most of them ducked out before they could be questioned.” She glanced up. “Is that true?”
    “They fled like rats from a sinking ship,” said Carmela.
    “That’s terrible,” said Gabby. She picked up a spool of purple gossamer ribbon and fiddled with it. “I hope you called Detective Babcock?” Gabby was a big booster of Edgar Babcock. In fact, she had her fingers crossed that Carmela and Babcock would get married someday. She even prayed to St. Valentine, the patron saint of love, and had purchased a few ubiquitous saint candles from Ava’s shop to hopefully spur things along. Her good intentions hadn’t paid off thus far, but Gabby had faith.
    “First Bobby Gallant showed up and then Babcock,” Carmela explained. “So we have two intrepid homicide detectives working the case.”
    “That’s good,” said Gabby. “Two heads are always better than one.”
    “Just like us,” said Carmela.
    But Gabby wasn’t finished discussing the murder. “Even though Kimber was a real pill,” said Gabby, “her death is a genuine tragedy.”
    Carmela grabbed a pack of silk flowers and slit it open with her thumbnail. “I guess,” she said.
    * * *
    CARMELA GOT TO WORK THEN. HANGING BATCHES OF teacup stickers on a rack, experimenting with some new rub-on tape, and arranging a new collection of card stock frames. Since Memory Mine was located in an old brick building in the French Quarter, the shop itself boasted tons of charm. Longer than it was wide, the shop featured high ceilings, planked wooden floors, lovely arched front windows, and brick walls.
    On the longest brick wall, Carmela had placed wire paper racks that held thousands of sheets of paper. Because, no secret here, Carmela was a paper addict. She loved mulberry paper with its infusion of fibers, as well as linenlike Egyptian papyrus and the botanical vellums that were embedded with real flower petals.
    Once Carmela lined up scissors, punches, and rulers on the large back table, the one they’d dubbed Craft Central, she glanced around and smiled to herself. This was what it was all about, of course. Owning your own business so you could be supreme allied commander in charge of your own destiny. Like lots of women, Carmela didn’t aspire to be the crazed CEO of a Fortune 500 company, giving orders, hiring and firing, dashing about the country and eating airline food. But she did relish being an entrepreneur. She found it exciting and challenging to build, grow, and nurture her own business. And if financial rewards blossomed along the way, then so much the better!
    “Carmela!” called Gabby. “Telephone. It’s Babcock.”
    Carmela dashed into her little office at the back of the shop and snatched up the receiver. “What?” she said.
    “And a warm hello to you, too,” said Babcock.
    “Oh, sorry,” said Carmela. “I thought maybe you were calling with news.” She eased herself into her purple leather chair and spun slowly from side to side.
    “Even if I did have news,” said Babcock, “I wouldn’t be confiding in you.”
    “You see,” said Carmela, “that’s so not right. Especially when I have some inside information for you.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Here’s the thing,” said Carmela. “Last night Kimber had dinner with some guy. Probably not her regular boyfriend, from what I can tell. In fact, he was described as someone who’s a little rough around the edges. A guy possibly named Dusty or Duncan.”
    Silence spun out for a few moments, and then Babcock said, sounding not at all pleased, “Please tell me how you know that.”

Chapter 5
    C ARMELA took a deep gulp of air, then said, “Okay. The