Craft Circle Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

by Stacey Alabaster

  Maybe I'd get lucky. Maybe the rain would hold off for another fifteen minutes while I walked the rest of the way to the cemetery.

  I stopped again. "Oh, rats!" The heavens had opened and wasted no time in pouring down thick, heavy drops of rain. I glanced around. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Well, there were the woods to the right of me—but I was going to look a bit mad, fleeing into the woods, wasn't I?

  A car pulled up beside me. "Need a lift?"

  I jumped at the noise and placed a hand over my heart. Ryan. "Sorry, you scared me for a moment there." I grinned at him. "You always seem to be around exactly when I need you."

  I climbed into the car, shaking myself off first, just as the rain hit even harder. I sighed a little. "It really is a day for a funeral, isn't it?" I became somber. "I think I've been so caught up in...well, everything. You saw the whiteboard. It hadn't quite sunk in that Amanda was gone before now. She was a nice woman," I said quietly as we drove along. "And I would have liked to have gotten to know her better."

  The rain had eased a little by the time we reached Pottsville Cemetery. It was still drizzling, but the heavy, fat drops had eased and I thanked Ryan before walking down the aisle of chairs lined up in front of the grave to pay my respects to Amanda's family.

  They didn't know me, of course, but I grasped first her sister's hand and then her mother's and told them how sorry I was for their loss, before glancing over my shoulder to try and see where Ryan had gone. Not that I really cared too much, of course. I was just curious.

  Ryan was on one side of the aisle, Billy at the other, both in the back rows. Two dates, one funeral. Or was that zero dates, one funeral? I raised an eyebrow. It was more likely the latter.

  But as I walked back down the aisle, both of them smiling at me, both of them with empty chairs beside them, I knew I had to make a decision. And I didn't have much time! I had to choose which side of the aisle to turn to. The left, where Ryan was, or the right, where Billy was?

  Suddenly, someone stepped out in front of me. "Georgina. It's nice of you to come."

  "Oh, hello, Brenda."

  She looked quite different, dressed in a sharp black suit rather than her usual dowdy clothes, and she was wearing makeup. I'd barely recognized her.

  I was surprised that she seemed genuinely happy to see me. "Would you like to sit with me? I've got a spare seat beside me," she said, gesturing to the side. I was only about halfway down the aisle at that point.

  "Erm," I said, glancing first at Ryan and then at Billy. At least this would solve my dilemma for me. "Sure, why not. Thank you, Brenda." I squeezed past her and the rest of the seated guests as I made my way to my chair. Brenda sat down beside me and shot me a firm smile. "My husband couldn't make it, you see," she said, explaining the spare seat. "He's feeling a little under the weather."

  "Oh no!" I said sympathetically. "I am sorry to hear that." Maybe Brenda wasn't so bad after all. Maybe she was just a little tightly wound. That wasn't the worst crime in the world, was it?

  Brenda nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I really am glad that you came today, Georgina. Amanda was a nice woman and a good neighbor."

  I had to bite my tongue at that one. A good neighbor that you spied on. Or maybe she hadn't spied on the house while Amanda was still alive. Maybe that just came after. I wasn't sure I believed that, though. I was pretty sure if she was snooping around when Amanda was dead, she was snooping around when she was alive. She was a busybody.

  I looked at Brenda. Busybodies knew things, didn't they? Maybe she'd be able to help me with something. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the small bone-like tool I'd found in my yard. Well, the tool that Jasper had found. Credit where credit is due, right?

  I'd cleaned it off and brought it with me, just in case. A bit of a strange item to carry around, sure, but I was used to carrying around strange items on my person.

  "Brenda," I said quietly, extending my palm toward her with the tool sitting on top of it. "You don't happen to know what this is, do you? I found it last night in my front yard. Jasper found it, I mean."

  She stared at it for a moment before raising her eyes to me, giving me a look that seemed to say, you've got to be kidding me, right? There were no words from her. Just a glare.

  "Brenda? Do you know what this is?"

  "Is this some kind of a joke?" Brenda asked.

  I shook my head slowly, confused. "No. It's no joke, Brenda. What is this?"

  She let out the loudest scoff and shook her head, like she was totally disgusted with me. "I knew it," she said with a bitter little laugh. "I knew that you were not a serious crafter."

  I pulled my hand back. "And what makes you say that?" I asked, shaking my head. Just when we'd been getting on so well.

  Brenda stopped shaking her head and rolling her eyes long enough to answer me. "That is a crafting tool," she said. "One of your little friends in your craft circle must have dropped it last night."

  Hmm, so she knew all about the craft circle meeting at my house then. She just decided not to come.

  I shook my head. "No, it wasn't just laying on the front path or anything. It was buried deep," I said.

  She frowned a little. "Well, I suppose it belonged to the woman who lived there before you then."

  "Oh." I turned it over in my hand and nodded slowly. "You're right," I said softly. "It must have been hers." I felt a little sad now. Appropriate for a funeral, I guess.

  "So what is it then, this tool?" I asked quietly.

  Brenda shook her head again in disbelief. "You really have no right running a crafting store, do you?"

  I shrugged. "I didn't know one had to earn the right to open a craft store."

  "Why did you even open that shop in the first place?" she asked, her mouth back to looking like she'd just sucked a lemon while she crossed her arms.

  "I thought it would be a good way to meet people and make friends." I stared at her, keeping a straight face.

  Brenda let out a heavy sigh. "It's a bone folder," she said.

  "Oh," I replied. "So it is bone then!" I turned it over in my hand. "No wonder Jasper loved it so much."

  Brenda shook her head and glanced down at it. "No," she said. "That's the name of it because traditionally they are made of bone, but that one looks like it’s synthetic."

  "So what is it used for?" I asked, frowning. "Folding bones?"

  Brenda's mouth dropped open. "No. It's used for paper crafts. Scrapbooking. For folding paper sharply. Scoring paper as well, sometimes."

  "Huh." I looked at the thing again.

  Brenda shook her head and leaned back in her seat. "You sure have a lot to learn."

  I popped the bone folder back in my pocket. "Lucky I have you here to teach me, Brenda."

  The ceremony was short and sweet—well, bitter-sweet—as one by one, Amanda's family and friends got up and spoke about what a wonderful person she was. I started to feel a bit like a fraud, calling myself her friend when I barely knew her at all.

  Once the official ceremony was done, I took my chance to escape from Brenda and rushed down the aisle to the back rows.

  I still had that choice: left or right?

  I ducked left, while Billy was preoccupied in conversation with someone I didn't recognize. Ryan was just standing up and together we followed the rest of the congregation out; everyone spilling from the confines of the aisles to approach the grave and throw dirt and rose petals on top.

  Ryan extended his arm for me. I was a little unsure if I should take it. Remember, George. Too young. And a cop. But I figured he was just being friendly, and if people were going to stare, I should just let them.

  "It's nice that you're here," I said as we exited the aisle. A little strange, as well, I had to admit, though I didn't say that part out loud. "Did you know Amanda well?"

  Ryan shook his head. "Not well, no. I saw her around town and talked to her a few times. It's just, well, I thought I should be here seeing as I was the one who..." He lowered
his voice. "Found her body."

  Billy shot a look at us and I gave him a little smile. Did he look jealous? Hard to tell from that distance, especially with the rain and fog drizzling down, but yes, he definitely looked jealous that I was walking along with a man almost two decades his junior. With my arm linked through his, no less.

  "I notice no one else from the station is here today," I said. "You're a good police officer, Ryan."

  And he was. Ryan had been the one to find Amanda's body; he'd been first at my house within minutes when I'd phoned him.

  I started to get a funny feeling in my stomach. What was that feeling? I tried to swallow it down. Indigestion? I hadn't actually eaten any breakfast, so it couldn't have been that.

  No, it was...it was suspicion.

  Why had Ryan been first on the scene, and so quickly, at both those incidents?

  I suddenly got an icy cold feeling down my spine when I remembered something else he had told me.

  He'd told me he'd been first at the house—my house, now—the day Julia had died.

  Was that all really just a coincidence?

  "Hang on," I told Ryan, stopping suddenly. The rain started to fall a little heavier. The grass underneath my feet was soggy and I could feel the sharp heel of my shoe sinking into it. "How did you get to my house so quickly last night?" I tilted my head. It was an innocent enough question, wasn't it?

  Well, it may have been an innocent enough question, but it clearly wasn't an easy one to answer; it seemed to have Ryan positively stumped. He opened and shut his mouth a few times like he was a goldfish and I could see his eyes darting around a little.

  He mumbled the answer when it finally came. "I was already nearby."

  How nearby?

  Like, right in front of my house nearby?

  Ryan cleared his throat. "I should go pay my respects to Amanda's family." He backed away a little, not meeting my eyes. "I'll catch up with you later, George."

  I stared after him as he walked away.

  What was all that about?

  I shivered; the rain was starting to pour down more heavily again. I frowned, trying to remember if I'd double-checked (or even single-checked) that the glass sliding doors at home were shut. If they weren't, my pair of fluffy little monsters were going to drag mud from the garden all through the house.

  "Hey," Billy said, offering me his coat. "You look cold."

  I was a little startled to feel him standing right next to me. I was still staring after Ryan. He hadn't gone to speak to Amanda's family at all. Instead, he'd returned to his police car and climbed into it. "Thanks," I said, nodding as I took the coat off Billy. "Suddenly I am rather cold."

  Ryan started his car and drove off while I just stood there, shaking my head. I guessed I was supposed to find my own way home then. I mean, not that I wasn't capable of such a thing. But not even an offer? Not even a goodbye?

  I pursed my lips and stared as the car swung out of the cemetery and down the road back to town.

  I had something else to add to my whiteboard as soon as I got home.

  A list of suspects.

  "You know what, Billy," I said, giving him my widest grin as I pulled his coat on tightly over my shoulders. "I would love to go on that date with you after all. What time would you like to pick me up?"

  Chapter 8

  I stood back and admired my work. "What do you think, Jasper?"

  He was too busy running around, chasing after a ball, while Casper was incessantly scratching at the glass again, this time wanting to go outside, not come in. I sighed and let her out just in case she needed the bathroom, though I knew it was far more likely she just wanted to roll in the mud.

  Yep. Suspicions confirmed.

  "Come on, Jasper," I said, calling him back to the whiteboard. "I need to know what you think." I was interrupted by my phone beeping.

  "Be there in ten," the text message from Billy said.

  I almost let out a little groan. I needed more time to prepare. I quickly sent him one back. "Make it twenty? A girl's got to put her face on, you know!"

  But I was already perfectly ready for the date—that was the least of my concerns. I was dressed in a simple black cocktail dress with bright red accessories, and my makeup, subtle as it was, was long done.

  But I still needed time at home. My suspect list wasn't completed, and I didn't want to walk out the door with it half-finished; it would be at the back of my mind all evening. And I was supposed to enjoy my date, wasn't I?

  I commanded Jasper to sit and he did as he was told, looking eagerly at the whiteboard.

  "Good," I said grinning. "So now that I have your complete, undivided attention." I tapped my pen against the board. "We've got two suspects," I said, pacing back and forth just a little as I explained the whole thing to Jasper.

  "First on the list, we've got Ryan," I said, pointing the pen to the sketch of Ryan's face I had drawn.

  Jasper cocked his head to the side.

  "I know, I know," I said. "I don't want to suspect him either, Jasper. But look at these facts I've got written here. He was on the scene when both Amanda and Julia's bodies were found AND he got here within minutes the other night after the alleged break-in." I shook my head while Jasper pouted. "Don't look at me like that. I'm only going where the evidence takes me."

  Jasper didn't look convinced. Or, he might have just been hungry. I looked at my watch. "Don't worry. I'll feed you before I leave." Rats, I didn't have much time. Returning to the whiteboard, I continued.

  "Then we've got suspect two." I slammed the pen against the face I had drawn of a severe looking woman. "Brenda."

  This time, Jasper looked a little more convinced.

  "That's right," I said. "She was Amanda's neighbor, and she has it out for anyone who's not a serious crafter. Perhaps she thought that Amanda and Julia were stinking up Pottsville with their sub-standard crafting efforts.” I swung around and stared at Jasper. "Perhaps I'm next on her list."

  Jasper started to whimper so I walked over and kneeled in front of him to ruffle his ears. "Don't worry, Jas, nothing is going to happen to your mommy! I won't let it." I winked at him and stood back up, taking the cap off my marker. "Now, I've just got to fill in a few blanks." I wrote "Motive" under Ryan's name with a question mark. That was still something I hadn't been able to figure out. I needed some time to think on it.

  There was a knock on the door.

  "Hello?" Billy's voice called out. "Are you there, George?"

  I looked at my watch. It had only been ten minutes.

  "Hello there," I tried to say as breezily as I could, pulling the door back. Billy was standing there with a bunch of flowers, his arm outstretched. "Didn't you receive my text message?"

  "Oh," Billy said, frowning. "No, sorry."

  "I asked for an extra ten minutes. Never mind," I said with a tight grin, taking the flowers from him. "We'll just have to make the best of it, won't we! Now, tell me where we’re off to!"

  "I really like you, George."

  I put down my fork with the bit of crab on it still left uneaten and gave Billy the brightest smile I could manage before taking an extra long gulp of wine. He'd chosen a quiet little boutique restaurant called Neilson's, with roaring fires and oak everywhere, the kind of restaurant where the wait staff sits your napkin on your lap. The kind of restaurant that makes me feel uncomfortable. I'd rather sit my own napkin on my lap, thank you very much. Or not use one at all, for that matter! I'd have been happy with a diner. Or fast food.

  "Thank you," I finally managed to say once I'd swallowed my wine. We had just started to eat our salads, with the crab salad being my choice. I still had a medium-rare steak coming. I picked up my fork again and tried to eat as quickly as possible.

  "And how about you, George?" Billy asked.

  "How about me, what?" I asked, wiping my mouth with my cloth napkin. I was a little confused.

  "Do you like me?"

  I almost spat my crab right out. Talk about f
orthright. I mean, I'm a pretty forthright lady myself, but I don't believe in putting people on the spot like that. Especially when it came to personal matters and there was no escaping. The restaurant was so cozy it was starting to feel claustrophobic.

  "I, um, think you're a very lovely man, Billy." And that was true. I wouldn't be spending my time with a man I didn't find lovely.

  He looked a little hurt and set his own fork down.

  "But you don't have romantic feelings for me," he said a little sadly.

  Awkward. I started wondering if I could make a quick dash out the back door without him knowing. Well, obviously, he would know eventually when I didn't return to the table and my crab went uneaten, and the steak arrived and I was not there to eat it, but by that stage, it would be too late for him to stop me.

  A waiter came to clear the salad plates and asked if we were ready for main course. "How about you, George?" Billy asked. "Do you still want to stay?" he asked gently. "Or would you rather we just call it a night?"

  I shook my head. "Of course not. We're here now and we ought to enjoy ourselves." I winked at the water. "Bring on the steaks!"

  The steak was cooked to perfection, still pink in the middle, just how I like it, but not dripping blood onto the potatoes. "Mmm," I said. "I'll have to come here more often. Pottsville seems to have more to offer than I first thought."

  Billy smiled at me and cut into his own steak. "You're a breath of fresh air in this town, George. I'm not sure how you ever ended up here, though. Are you a very long way from home?"

  I leaned back in my chair a little and thought about that. "Not so far," I finally said. "Still having a few issues with some folks in this town, though."

  Billy laughed. "Brenda?"

  I nodded. "Brenda."

  He told me about his interest in crafting and how he got into it. "It was a few years ago, after a difficult time in my life. I suppose it was a distraction at the time, a way to relax. Now, it's just something I enjoy." He smiled at me. "And I get to meet very interesting people?"