Page 9 of Trace of Doubt
Edie let out a dramatic sigh. “You could tie your name in with all promotional items.”
“True. I’m also thinking the online logo could have fluidity to build anticipation for showcasing the jewelry.” I turned a page in my sketchbook. “My target buyers are women from ages thirty and up who enjoy one-of-a-kind designs. One thought is to have selections for the younger woman. Another thought is to create smaller pieces for the young teen or petite woman. All medium priced to make this affordable but not to give my jewelry away.”
“We need to get you established on the various social media platforms to reach online buyers.”
“I need help with the social media part. All of it.”
“No problem. I can teach you.” Edie gestured for me to continue. “Keep talking. My mind is sparking ideas like firecrackers.”
“Perhaps a blog focusing on how each piece is created and tips on how wearing them would create interest. I’d like to stage them, take photos to show versatility. Even videos once I learn how it’s done. Of course, I need a website, but that development will need to wait until I have the funds. Do you think my past will hinder buyers?”
“Oh, stop it. Do you plan to announce it?” Her fun personality was fantastic. “We can work around every issue you can toss my way. My web designer is amazing, and he could help you with everything online, including marketing and promotion. And don’t forget an online catalog. Facebook, Pinterest, and Instagram are all good for you. Not every person hangs out on the same platform.”
I rubbed my palms together. Last Christmas I’d hoped for a new friend who wouldn’t mind giving me business advice. Fanciful dreams didn’t compare with the excitement bubbling inside me. “I’ve made out an order. I just need you to call it in.”
“Which reminds me, I bought a new phone a few months ago. You can have this one, and you can access Wi-Fi from it too. Randy looked at it this morning and told me it was in good shape.” She reached into her monster bag and presented me with a cell phone.
My fingers trembled. “Why are you doing this?”
“I believe in your heart, Shelby. The chaplain and I are high school friends from my San Antonio childhood. She believes in you too.”
I rolled the phone over in my hands, holding it like a precious jewel. “Will you show me how to connect and text?”
We both laughed at my helplessness. “I’d love to.”
For the next hour, Edie tutored me in how to set up my phone, text, and access the Internet. She jotted down websites for me to learn about social media, marketing, branding, and other foreign topics. “You’re a fast learner. Just call—”
A swish near the door turned our attention to an envelope sliding under it. I rushed over and flung the door open in time to see a man bolt into the woods.
“Hey!” I raced after him on a winding path. He wore a ball cap and a black T-shirt. He ran like a deer, and his long stride and pace lengthened the distance between us. My breathing came in short, painful spurts. Dratted asthma. He disappeared into the thick woods, and I stopped to grasp my knees until I gained control of my air-depleted lungs.
Edie.
She could be hurt. Fighting for every breath, I rushed back to the cabin. She stood on the porch, her phone in one hand and the envelope in the other. I swept my gaze over the perimeter and back to the item in her hand.
“Are you okay?” she said.
I gestured my thumb and finger like an inhaler and retrieved it from inside. She followed me in. I inhaled the medicine deeply and waited for my lungs to cease their protest. “I’m all right. He outran me. I feared he was circling back to you.”
“You chased him when he could have turned on you?”
“He meant no good, and I acted instinctively.”
Her features softened. “Did you recognize him?”
“Never got close enough.”
She held up the envelope. “Obviously this was an important delivery.”
“Wash your hands before I open it. He could have laced it with poison.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Not in the least. I heard a few tales in prison that would make your skin crawl. Scrub for thirty seconds with lots of soap and water.”
Her face pale, Edie returned shortly afterward.
We walked several feet beyond the cabin for two reasons—if the envelope held deadly contents, I’d rather contaminate theoutside of the cabin than the inside. Also, if the sender watched me, I wanted him to know I’d opened it. I gingerly lifted the envelope’s flap and tugged on a folded, typed note.
