Murder Has a Sweet Tooth - By Miranda Bliss Page 0,4

become inordinately fond of what he called his “broken biscuit cake,” a concoction of chocolate, nuts, and crumbled cookies. So much so, in fact, that I was a little worried about fit when I went to try on my wedding dress that morning.

Alex is also a skilled craftsman. He’s a carpenter and a plumber. He’s good at painting and hanging wallpaper. There was even talk about him being an expert when it came to laying carpet. As his wedding gift to us, Alex had arrived four weeks earlier and was remodeling Jim’s house.

Who could ask for more?

Curious, both as to what Alex had been up to and why he hadn’t answered when Jim called him that day, I got up and tried for a look in the front window again, but even before I did, I knew I was wasting my time. When I heard Jim inside, I pretended I was taking a look at the pots of herbs he’d put out on the porch railing to catch the afternoon sun.

“That’s a bit daft, isn’t it?” Jim wasn’t talking about me and the plants. In fact, I’m not sure he even noticed that I was pretending to mess with the rosemary and the mint. He was lost in thought. “Alex isn’t here,” he said. “I left early this morning. I thought he was still asleep. But . . .” As if trying to work through it, he shook his head. “His bed isn’t slept in. He went out last night and I thought he’d come home after I was already in bed. Apparently not.”

“Maybe Alex has met another woman to fall in love with.” I was only half kidding.

Jim didn’t look convinced. “Maybe. But what if something’s happened to him? You don’t suppose—”

“Nothing has happened to Alex.” I managed to make it sound like I believed it. The last thing either one of us needed to do was to let our imaginations run wild. When they did, more often than not these days, they ran toward murder.

I shook away the thought. “Alex is fine. Alex is always fine. Haven’t you said so yourself? Alex is everybody’s friend. He doesn’t have an enemy in the world. Nobody would ever—”

“There might have been an accident.” Thinking about the possibility, Jim’s brows dipped low over his eyes. “Or he might have gotten mugged. He could be lyin’ in an alley somewhere. He’s got only his driver’s license and that shows his address back home, and the police wouldn’t know he’s stayin’ here with me, and—”

One hand on his arm, I stopped Jim the way he had stopped me from panicking so many times. “There’s no use worrying. Not if we don’t know there’s anything to worry about. My money’s on a woman.”

“Aye.” Jim nodded. I’m not sure if he was agreeing with me or trying to talk himself into believing I was right. “A woman. It must be. It is Alex, after all!” He smiled in the way I’d seen him smile so many times when he talked about his cousin. Back when Jim still lived in Scotland, he and Alex had a number of wild adventures they’d told me about, and more, I was sure, they hadn’t dared to mention. Jim knew his cousin better than anyone, and he knew that Alex would come dragging home soon and work twice as hard the rest of the day to make up for the time he’d lost.

He pulled in a breath and, seeing some of the tension go out of his shoulders, I relaxed. “You’re right,” he said. “I’m going back to Bellywasher’s. We’ve got crab cakes as a dinner special tonight and that means the place will be full. And when I get home tonight—”

“Alex will be here singing and painting. Or will he be wallpapering?”

“Ye think I’m that easy to dupe?” Jim laughed. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and together we headed down the steps. “What Alex is doing—”

Before he had a chance to tell me, his cell phone rang. He plucked it out of his pocket. “Maybe we’ll find out what Alex is doing. Maybe this is him.”

He flipped open the phone and I knew he was right about the call being from Alex because in an instant, the worry was erased from Jim’s face. He smiled and gave me the thumbs-up. “I’ve been worried about ye, man. I was sure something was wrong. But Annie was right. Annie’s often right, in case ye haven’t noticed. She said—” He