When I pulled into the Central Paper parking lot after leaving PJ’s apartment, my fingers were clutching the steering wheel so tightly that I practically had to pry them off. It was “Girls' Night In” this evening. Although we couldn’t indulge in wine while the store was open, we’d break out our craft du jour, indulge in some high-end chocolate on the side—which Evy usually managed to smear on her project—and voilà. Instant party. But instant party was the last thing I wanted tonight. In fact, I’d much prefer to skip the whole thing. As it was, I’d barely have time to greet everyone before the store closed.

Two things got me out of the car and through the front door though. First, the idea of PJ spending one more unnecessary minute in jail if I didn’t pursue my own inquiries; and second, that nobody in the group even knew Ava was dead yet.

Except the murderer.

I swallowed against a lump in my throat as the bell chimed with my entrance. The store was busy for this near closing time, and I could hear Evy’s chatter from the tables in the back. Graciela grinned at me from behind the register as she was ringing up a sale. “Hola, mija. The ladies had almost given you up.”

I smiled back, although from the way Graciela’s brows drew together, it probably wasn’t very convincing. Could she have done it? “Sorry. I was a little busy after work.”

Her forehead smoothed. “Ah. The evil day job. Go on back. I don’t think the ladies have gotten much done tonight.” She winked. “Too much to gossip about.”

“Gossip?” I croaked. Could it be about the murder? Had the news already broken? “About what?”

But the customer at the register asked Graciela a question. When she turned to answer, I made my way to the crafting tables. Virginia’s workspace was as regimented as usual, just as Evy’s was its usual chaos, however neither one of them appeared to be actively working on anything.

Nikki just hunched in her chair, toying with a turkey-shaped die. PJ had said the murder weapon was a die. Could Nikki have— No. I couldn’t see Nikki indulging in any kind of violence. She even winced when she had to cut cardstock using the store’s heavy duty paper cutter that we fondly called La Guillotine.

“But even though MAX was shut down forever, the police couldn’t find— Oh, hi, Tash!” Evy grinned up at me brightly. “We were afraid you couldn’t make it tonight. We’re down two, since Ava didn’t make it either.”

I checked behind me to make sure none of the other customers were nearby. “I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.” I swallowed, placing my hand on Evy’s shoulder, although I wasn’t sure if it was for her comfort or my own. “Ava won’t be joining us anymore. She—”

“Don’t tell me.” Virginia rolled her eyes. “She’s bought out all the Graphic 45 A Proper Gentlemen paper packs that I was going to use to scrap my father’s family tree, refuses to face us, and has convinced you to do the dirty work for her again. Honestly, I could murder that woman.”

“Actually…” I took a deep breath. “Ava’s dead. She… she was killed on Monday.”

“I didn’t do it!” Virginia clutched a box of pictures to her chest.

The die in Nikki’s hand dropped to the table with a dull clatter. She clapped one hand over her mouth and leaped out of her chair, sending it over backwards, and then raced for the back room, her giant shoulder bag bouncing on her back.

Virginia glanced wildly from Evy, who’d started to cry, to me, to the customers who’d begun craning their necks to see what the commotion was about. She set her pictures down and picked up a pair of Fiskars. “I know I said that I wanted to… you know. But that’s just something you say, not something you do.”

“We realize that, Virginia.” I patted Evy on the back as her sobs grew noisier.

“We’ve all said something similar more than once.” Virginia pointed the scissors at me, and I barely managed to control my wince. “Even your little friend PJ probably did, the way Ava ordered him around.”

I gritted my teeth. “That’s enough. Nobody is accusing you or me or anyone here. And any fool”—Detective Bae—“would know PJ couldn’t do anything of the kind.” I just needed to find some way to convince Bae of said foolishness.

Virginia settled back in her chair, and I breathed a little easier when she put the scissors down. “Good.” Her gaze dropped to her work table, and she nudged a Copic pen so it was exactly parallel with the edge of her scrapbook page. “Do you know who’s getting her supplies?”

I stepped away from Evy, afraid that my back-patting would get a little too forceful—and it wasn’t Evy I was angry with. Virginia’s obsession with Ava’s crafting stash was bordering on toxic—but could supply envy really prompt somebody to kill?

Virginia certainly had the determination to do anything she put her mind to. But when I remembered the chaos of the crime scene, I checked her off my private list of suspects immediately—she’d never have destroyed so much of what she coveted, let alone have left the room in such a mess. Besides, she hadn’t known Dianne, and from what PJ had said, the police were convinced both murders had been committed by the same perpetrator.

“I can’t believe it,” Evy wailed. Her reaction was definitely starting to attract the attention of other customers, who edged even closer, expressions avid. “We saw her on Sunday and she was perfectly healthy.”

“She was murdered, you ninny.” Virginia slid a jar of bronze embellishments into her kit bag. “She didn’t waste away from some mysterious ailment.”

Evy ignored Virginia’s snide tone, just as she always did. “I know Ava could be, well, difficult, but she was generous too. She shared her supplies with me all the time.”

“She could afford to,” Virginia muttered, “since she bought everything in sight.”

“Look.” Evy rifled through the scrapbook on the table in front of her, stopping at a mustard yellow page crisscrossed with burnt orange and charcoal gray. “Ava gave me this paper and the shiny gold washi tape for the accents.” She leafed to another page, this one navy blue, chocolate brown, and eye-watering neon green. “She made this one for herself but decided it wasn’t right for her project so she just gave me the whole thing.”

I remembered when Ava made that page. It was on the Naval Academy paper that she’d snagged from under Virginia’s nose—and then decided she didn’t like after all. I glanced at Virginia, hoping she hadn’t seen what Ava had done with it. Nope. She saw it.

“Then there’s this.” Evy pulled the card from my class out of her bag. The corners were crumpled because she’d stuffed it in her craft tote without protecting it, and it sagged in the middle from the weight of the gigantic red embellishment that she’d placed slightly off-kilter. Evy tapped the gem. “On Sunday, she gave me this from her own supplies when she said the ones in the kit weren’t—” Evy shot a shamefaced glance at me. “I mean…” She thrust the card at me. “You take it, Tash. I couldn’t bear to look at it.”

I took it—I couldn’t very well refuse—but when Evy’s sniffles started to reach epic proportions, I hastily set it on Graciela’s discount table so I could hand Evy a tissue. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of the hovering customers sidle over to look at the card, then rear back in apparent horror.

I didn’t blame them—Evy’s projects tended to have that effect on everyone, although it didn’t stop people from looking. It was kind of like rubbernecking at a car crash—you were half-afraid to catch sight of something disastrous, but you couldn’t look away. In fact, as I stood there, silently handing Evy tissue after tissue—thank goodness Bae had let me keep his stash—a customer with a red hoodie pulled low over her face, her empty basket slung over one arm, peered at it closely, then turned away. From what I could see of her face, her lips were pressed together in apparent disgust.

My throat burned and my eyes prickled for an instant, remembering PJ’s tart comments about customers in seasonally inappropriate clothing. PJ could flay someone with a snarky remark, but he’d never, ever hurt anybody, let alone kill them.

I vowed to convince Bae and Huber they had the wrong person as a third customer, a young mother with her toddler in a stroller, stopped by the table. But when the child reached for the card—attracted by the shiny object, no doubt—the mom covered the kid’s eyes with her hand and wheeled away as if the sight might scar them for life.

In a momentary lull between customers, Graciela hustled over from the register. “What’s wrong?” she murmured. “Has something happened to Evy?”

“No.” I set Bae’s tissues on the table by Evy’s elbow and gestured for Graciela to follow me behind a nearby calendar and journal display. I straightened my shoulders as I faced her. She had just as much opportunity to kill Dianne and Ava as PJ did, but I couldn’t imagine her doing it any more than him. “It’s Ava. She was killed on Monday.”

Graciela’s hand flew to her mouth. “Ah. Pobrecita. Was it a car accident? She was not the most careful of drivers.”

“No. She was murdered.”

Her eyes rounded. “Madre de Dios. Who would do such a thing? People today… pah! They think of nobody’s pain but their own.”

I couldn’t remember whether Bae had told me that Dianne’s death was public yet. Could I casually ask Graciela if they’d met as planned? But she might ask why I wanted to know—it wasn’t exactly a smooth change of subject. Better to leave it until I knew for sure I wouldn’t be interfering with the investigation. Besides, one murder at a time was enough for anyone to deal with.

Speaking of which… Nikki still hadn’t emerged from the back room. “Excuse me, please. I need to check on Nikki.” My height enabled me to peer over the top of the slat wall fixture when the more petite Graciela couldn’t. I nodded in the direction of the register. “You’ve got a line of customers waiting. They’d probably be disgruntled if they all weren’t craning their necks to look at Evy.”

She waved my words away. “The world will not end if they can’t buy their paper and glue in the next two minutes.” She hugged me, and my eyes prickled because since PJ’s arrest, what I’d missed most was a genuine hug from my best friend. But I returned Graciela’s hug anyway, sniffling—although not as intensely as Evy.

Graciela rubbed a soothing circle on my back. “Ava was your friend. I’m sorry that you must be the one to be strong for everyone else. If you need anything—a shoulder, an ear, a strong drink—you may call on me any time.”

“Thank you, hon.” I released her, a little reluctantly. “I’d better go see about Nikki. The news hit her hard.”

“Of course. Of course.” She pointed a scarlet-tipped nail at me. “But remember what I said. Anything, anytime.” She hurried away.

I straightened my blouse, shook out my skirt, and took a circuitous route through the store so I could avoid the crafting table where—if the sound of Evy’s voice was any indication—she was regaling anyone who would listen with tales of Ava’s generosity.