"Sunni," Jackson's deep voice came from behind. Lacey and I walked over to him. "You four should head home. It's getting cold, and we'll probably be here another hour. We're sending the rest of the group home too."
I was about to protest but he put a finger up to stop me. "I insist," he said with that charming half-smile that he yielded very effectively as a defense weapon. "There's a killer on the loose, remember?"
"Oh, I remember," I said with way too much enthusiasm.
Jackson raised a brow and looked at Lacey. "This is the only woman I know who is thrilled by the words 'there's a killer on the loose'."
Lacey smiled and wrapped her arm around mine. "And now you know two women who are giddy with the idea of catching a murderer."
Jackson looked at both of us. "This is the very definition of double trouble. So now I'm telling you both to stay out of trouble." He held up his fingers. "Times two."
"Fine, then we'll take our firsthand knowledge and head out of the forest," I teased.
"Firsthand knowledge?" Jackson asked with an annoying hint of skepticism.
I decided not to relay the smell evidence provided by my new partner. The police could find that on their own. I brushed off my comment with a shrug. "I just meant Lacey and I were the first to see the body, but I'm sure your team will do a thorough investigation." Lacey remained silent throughout our little chat. Something told me she'd had similar chats with Detective Briggs. Jackson was new to the power of Lacey's nose. I didn't feel the need to explain or convince him of anything. "But maybe you could fill in a few details," I continued with my best girlfriend smile. "Did the coroner find cause and time of death?"
"Possible suffocation. Not sure on the time of death yet but she's been dead a few hours."
"Suffocation," I looked at Lacey. "Guess that's why we didn't see any sign of injury."
"Have they figured out how the trunk got here?" Lacey asked. "It would have been heavy with a body inside."
Jackson nodded. There was a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He seemed to realize that I had found a kindred spirit in Lacey. "Actually, it wasn't too hard to solve that part of the mystery. There was no forest litter or scratches on the sides of the trunk and no obvious tracks on the trail. The women said it was normally just filled with feathery light objects like hair wreaths and flower garlands so they could carry it to their ceremonial spot. It seems the trunk was carried here first. The body was added later."
"Detective Jackson," one of the coroner's team called.
"Head home and I'll fill you in tomorrow," Jackson said as he walked off to talk to the coroner.
Lacey pulled in her lips, wanting to say something but seemingly not sure she should.
"Speak your mind, my friend," I said.
"It's just that I feel as if you and I are living in parallel universes, only on opposite sides of the country. And, of course, you're a journalist and I sell flowers. But I must say—"
"My detective reminds you greatly of your detective?" I asked.
"You took the words right out of me." Voices turned our attention to the altar. Raine and Lola were helping Aubrey and Nora pack up the silk leaf vines and the pumpkins and gourds. Across the way, Wanda and the other women were packing up whatever leftovers the police and coroner's team hadn't snacked on. There wasn't much left except the empty thermoses and earthenware mugs.
Lacey leaned her head closer. "I would love to get my sniffer near Wanda."
"Oh? Anything in particular you were hoping to find?" I was sort of disappointed with myself for not already knowing where she was heading with this but then it was my first nasal forward investigation.
"Camphor. It's the one odor that seemed out of place on Minnie's clothing."
I tapped the side of my head. "Duh, of course. I'm having to retrain my entire way of thinking now that I've joined forces with a spectacular nose."
Lacey tapped the side of it. "Spectacular. My nose has been called many things but never that. I rather like it. Now, let's put this spectacular nose to work."
We meandered over to the table where Wanda and the others were packing away the refreshment goodies. I couldn't help but notice that Wanda didn't look nearly as distraught as the others. Everyone else had drawn faces, lacking color, with frowns that were nearly hanging to their chins. Wanda casually packed the earthenware mugs into a box that was filled with tissue paper to keep them from breaking. She was focused on her task and at the same time looked as if she would just as soon whistle while she worked. That was, if a dead body hadn't just disrupted an otherwise celebratory night.
"Here, let us help so we can all head home and put this terrible night behind us." Lacey moved as close as she could without intruding on Wanda's personal space. She made a point of reaching all the way across the table for a shaker of cinnamon. I busied myself stacking napkins. I'd already seen Lacey's nose in action so I knew she was at work sniffing for evidence. It wriggled back and forth as she swept past Wanda. She lingered for a bit longer than needed to reach for the cinnamon and then straightened.
"Where would you like the cinnamon?" she asked.
"Right over there in that box." Wanda pointed to a box on the ground. Lacey shook her head my direction to let me know she hadn't detected any camphor. It didn't prove or disprove anything, but it was good to know.
We finished helping with the clean up, then I blew a quick kiss to Jackson and the four of us headed along the trail back to the parking lot.
"Whoa, if you looked up the word dreamboat in the dictionary," Lola said as soon as we passed through the shrubs surrounding the clearing, "that guy's picture would be right smack dab under the definition. Lucky you, Sunni Taylor."
"Yes, but dating a dreamboat has its drawbacks." I'd picked up one of the flameless candles to lead the way. I lifted it, mostly to scare off any critters. "On bad hair days, or days when I've got a big old pimple or you know those days when you just look in the mirror and all you see is the flaws, well it's hard to face someone who is . . . well . . . flawless. Makes me self-conscious."
A dry laugh spurted from Raine's mouth. "That must be a terrible hardship, and the day I see you self-conscious is the day I trade in my tarot cards for a business suit and office cubicle."
"I get self-conscious," I insisted. "Sometimes." I turned to Lacey who was enjoying our banter. "So, no camphor, eh? What if Minnie had the camphor on her clothes before she was murdered? Then it wouldn't show up on the killer."
"True, unless there was some sort of struggle. Even then, if the killer had picked up even a trace of camphor from Minnie's skin or clothes, I probably would have smelled it. It's a powerful fragrance. But back to your first point. If Wanda was the killer and she was careful not to touch Minnie or get near her clothes, then she might have avoided the camphor altogether." Lacey stopped. "Boy, I must be getting tired. I'm talking in silly circles. To put it more succinctly so that it makes sense—not smelling the camphor doesn't take Wanda off the person of interest list. Now, if I had smelled the camphor on her, I think we could have instantly moved her name up to the top of that list."
Lola looked over at her. "Either you're tired or I'm tired, either way, this all sounds like babble to me. I'm ready to climb into the starchy motel room sheets and fall fast asleep. It's been a long night."
"Here, here." Raine lifted an invisible glass for a toast. "Might I just add, that for once I'd like to go out with my best friend Sunni and not have some corpse show up to ruin the whole thing."