Murder Makes Scents (Nantucket Candle Maker Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
2nd in Series
Publisher: Kensington (February 25, 2020)
Mass Market Paperback: 272 pages

Synopsis

Stella Wright loves creating candles at her Nantucket store—and she also has a burning passion for justice. Now, after visiting a perfume conference, she must solve a vial crime . . .

Stella and her globe-trotting mom, Millie, have come home from a perfume industry conference in Paris, where their trip was marred by witnessing the stabbing death of a young man. It’s a relief for Stella to be back on her picturesque island, with the comforting company of her cat, Tinker. But lingering danger may have followed them back across the ocean.

After someone breaks into her candle store, the Wick & Flame, Stella starts feeling spooked. And just as things threaten to ignite, Millie suffers a blow to the head. Stella receives an anonymous note claiming that her mother smuggled a secret formula out of France—and threatening her life if it isn’t returned. Now Stella’s picked up the scent of a cold-hearted criminal and an intriguing puzzle, and things are about to get wicked . . .

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Excerpt

Emily was the last to go, and Peter offered to drive her home since her husband had left earlier to relieve the babysitter. When I shut the door behind them, my mom and I fell onto my double-sized mattress. A few minutes later, she was snoring, her body stretched diagonally, and I was thinking from my two inches of bed space that Tinker was living like a king at my store in comparison.

Sitting up, I texted Peter to see if he was still awake. There was no answer. Sleep, however, still eluded me, and after a few more minutes of tossing and turning, I got up and headed to my sofa. That solution was no better, because my back was stiff from the airplane and now the cushions felt too soft. Finally, I scribbled a note to my mom, and tiptoed down the stairs with my coat and car keys. There was a comfy chair in my workroom at the Wick & Flame. A few hours of sleep there would be better than a sliver of mattress and stereophonic snoring.

When the wheels of my bright red Beetle hit the cobblestones of Main Street, they sounded like bombs going off in the otherwise silent town. Fortunately, the population on Main Street at this hour was zero, so I didn’t feel too badly. Turning the corner onto Centre Street, I parked in front of my store. As I approached, the moonlight lit my breath in the cold night air.

Fall was upon us.

I hadn’t taken more than one step inside the Wick & Flame when I noticed the mess. Tinker,

evidently, had disliked his lodgings. My candle displays had been knocked over, his water bowl spilled, and some receipts on my counter were now on the floor. Across the room, I saw his shining, green-saucer eyes staring at me.

“Bad boy,” I said to him in a whisper.

Tinker swished his tail across the floor. He casually walked over to me as if the scene was my fault. I supposed it was. I’d never left him overnight at the Wick & Flame. Lesson learned. He circled my feet in what I decided was his apology. I picked him up, appreciating his warmth, and decided not to worry about the mess tonight.

Carrying Tinker into my workroom, I settled into my comfy chair with a blanket and Tinker to keep me warm. Immediately, I started to drift to sleep. My dreams were starting to take hold of me when something urged me to wake. I tried to pat Tinker, thinking he had nudged me. A moment later, I stirred again. There was no doubt about it. I heard the bell over my door jingle slightly, and then stop.

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