Read Online 4 Malice in Christmas River by Meg Muldoon - Free Book Online

Christmas tree draped in ribbon. Small round snow globes were suspended from the branches, depicting scenes from the Old West. In one snow globe, clay cowboys faced each other in an encircled corral, their guns drawn. In another, a stagecoach ran through a clay canyon. And in another, a cowboy on a horse herded a couple of stubborn clay cattle.
    And the snow globes were only part of the display. Kara had also made clay horseshoes, cows with Santa hats, and wooden engraved cowboy boot ornaments.
    I shook my head in wonder.
    Kara’s talent never failed to amaze me. Every time I stopped by her shop, I was reminded of how outrageously amazing her crafts were. She blew all the other handmade artisanal stores in Christmas River out of the water.
    Growing up, I always thought that Kara would be the next Martha Stewart. Maybe she would still be, one day.
    But for now, I was glad, rather selfishly, that she was a small business owner in Christmas River. Just a stone’s throw away from my own shop.
    “Son of a bitchin’ bronco!”
    Glass shattered from somewhere in the backroom.
    “Owwww…”
    The noise sounded like it was coming from a dying animal.
    I stopped marveling at Kara’s creations and quickly weaved my way through the displays and plastic tree branches to the back.
    Kara sat hunched over at the large table in her craft studio, holding her thumb and making low groaning sounds.
    “My God, are you okay?” I said, rushing over.
    A small pile of broken glass lay on the floor, and there was a decidedly singed smell tainting the air.
    “Water,” she mumbled through gritted teeth.  
    I went over to the sink, grabbed a plastic cup, and filled it up quickly. I brought it back over. Kara dunked her forefinger in it, and I could have sworn I heard sizzling when she did. 
    She let out a small grunt of relief.  
    I noticed the glue gun on the table was bleeding a dribble of steaming glue. I went over and unplugged it.
    “These damned industrial strength glue guns,” she said after a few more moments of pained silence. “I should really know better by now. You get some of that glue on your skin, and it hurts worse than the devil’s hot poker.”
    “Is it really bad?” I said.
    She shook her head.
    “No, I’ll be okay,” she said. “Nothing I haven’t done before.”
    I went over to one corner of the room and grabbed a broom leaning against the wall. I started sweeping up the broken glass into a dustpan, and dumped it in the trashcan under the sink.
    “Just another day in paradise,” she mumbled.
    “Can I get you anything?” I said.
    She shook her head again and didn’t speak.
    I nodded, and then quickly jaunted back into the front of the store, grabbing the muffins and mochas.
    I thought the sight of decadently rich sugary treats would cheer her up, but as I looked into her face, I realized that it did almost the opposite.
    “That’s nice of you Cin,” she said, her finger still plunged in the water. “But I just started this juice cleanse. I can’t have any processed sugar for a month.”
    I furrowed my brow.
    For as long as I’d known Kara, she’d been like an evil Keebler Elf. I’d always been the one to go on diets, and she’d always been the one trying to tempt me with tasty food that was bad for me. Kara had a lightning-fast metabolism and had always been able to maintain her wire-thin frame while eating all sorts of junk food.
    Now here we were, our roles reversed. I was the evil Keebler Elf. And here she was talking about cleanses.  
    She sighed, noticing my confusion.
    “It’s just, this weather’s been making me feel grumpy,” she said. “Hell, I don’t know. I guess it’s my life that’s been making me feel grumpy. I thought going on a cleanse might put me in a better frame of mind, you know? Those celebrities are always going on and on about it in those entertainment magazines I read. Maybe they’re onto something.”
    I nodded, pulling the mocha and muffin back to my side of the