But I soon found out that Ryan hadn't just been bluffing, or trying to blow me off. It seemed like the woman's identity truly was a mystery. "Hello, Brenda," I said breezily as I walked through the door of my craft shop, the smell of craft glue immediately hitting my nostrils.
Brenda glanced down at Jasper from behind the counter and shook her head. I don't know why she was acting so surprised—Jasper was practically a permanent fixture of the shop. And anyway, there was no way I was going to leave him alone until the fence situation was sorted out.
"Terrible thing, isn't it?" Brenda whispered while she curled the ribbon on a gift she was wrapping. I placed a water bowl down for Jasper in the back of the shop and stood up.
"You're talking about the body that was found down by the woods?" I frowned a little, approaching the subject cautiously. I knew that the discovery I'd made wasn't officially public knowledge, but in a small town, people talk. A lot.
And from the whispers I'd heard, no one seemed to know who the woman was. I narrowed my eyes and looked at Brenda. As the resident town gossip, she might just be the exception to the rule.
"You must have the dirt, though," I said, walking back toward the front of the shop. "Nothing escapes you, does it?"
Brenda shrugged. "On this one, I am in the dark as much as everyone else." She put the ribbon down and raised her eyebrows at me. "And I'm not sure I even want to get involved. Or talk about it."
Oh come on, she had brought the subject up! Who did she think she was fooling?
"Come on, Brenda, you usually know everything that goes on in Pottsville. You're really telling me you've got no idea who this woman was?"
I was really hoping that she did have some kind of scoop for me. That way I could stop bugging Ryan for information. That well had been pretty dry lately anyway.
Brenda picked her curling scissors back up and shook her head. "All I can say is that it’s a tragic situation. And it's sullied the upcoming festival, hasn't it?"
I rolled my eyes. Trust Brenda to think of that. She curled a long row of ribbon and it bounced back in perfect little ringlets. "I think it's better not to gossip about these things."
Yeah, right.
I glanced down at Jasper, who'd come back to join us and seemed very interested in our conversation. "I think it's time we did some digging," I said to him, quietly. I saw his ears prick up. "Whoops. Not that type of digging. That type only gets all of us into trouble."
I glanced out the window. Actually, this type of digging would probably get us into trouble as well. But I was going to do it anyway, wasn't I?
Back in the safety—if not the privacy—of my large house with the tall glass windows, I got out my old trusty whiteboard and looked at the large white expanse before me. I was glad I hadn't gotten rid of it after Amanda's death and my subsequent investigation. An investigation that had almost gotten me killed.
Jasper sat in front of the board with a troubled look. It was as though he knew that the reappearance of the whiteboard in our lives could only cause trouble.
"Don't worry," I said, pulling out my marker and taking off the cap. "That's not going to happen this time." Last time, the victim, Amanda, had been a crafter. And fellow crafters like myself were in the target line. "This crime has nothing to do with crafting," I said, frowning with my pen hovering over the blank board. "Hmm, I'm not quite sure what it has to do with." I looked down at Jasper. "Would be helpful if I at least had something to go off of, wouldn't it?"
Jasper gave me a look that pretty much said, maybe it would be better if you just quit, then.
And if that was the message he was trying to convey, then maybe he was right. If I went looking for trouble, I was probably going to find it.
But I'd found something already. The poor woman's body. I was already involved, whether I liked it or not. I looked down at Jasper. "Actually, you're the one who found her body. You dragged me into this, Jasper," I said playfully. "So you're involved as well. Now, don't go giving me any more of those pleading looks!"
I hadn't gotten a good look at the body lying on the ground; it had been dark out and I'd been so shocked. I'd hardly wanted to linger and stare at the woman's face. But I knew that she was youngish, probably late twenties or early thirties, and she'd had long, medium brown hair. I made a brief sketch of her on the whiteboard. It was something to go off, at least. Better than nothing.
I tilted my head to the side and stared at the crude sketch. Was she a tourist? Or maybe she was just new to the area like me. Maybe I was no longer the new girl in town.
Well, she was dead now. So I supposed I still was the new girl in town. And I still felt like I was.
Besides, she had been fairly young. That didn't fit the profile of a Pottsville resident, most of whom were over fifty-five.
So what had she been doing in town?
I got the sudden feeling that I was being watched and put the cap back on the marker. I glanced around. I was starting to feel like Ryan now; always suspicious that someone was spying on me. In a glass house like mine, it would be very easy for people to see in, but I still hadn't bothered trying to find curtains or blinds that would fit all the windows (and cost a fortune). But I was far enough away from the road and my neighbors that people looking in wasn't really an issue. Unless someone was purposely spying on me.
I walked over to the slider and opened it, peering out into the yard. Maybe it had been an animal. Maybe Casper had returned! I suddenly felt a little hopeful and sprinted outside.
No such luck.
I let out a heavy sigh and closed the sliding glass doors again. It was a beautiful view outside, and a gorgeous day, but I had no enthusiasm to enjoy it.
I walked back to the almost blank whiteboard. I needed more. And standing around staring at a board in my house wasn't the way to get it. I picked up Jasper's leash. "I know you're not going to like this, Jasper, but we’re returning to the scene of the crime."
Jasper whimpered and refused to budge from his spot on the pavement. "Jasper," I said, pulling on his leash. "Come on." It wasn't that Jasper was a badly behaved dog per se. He just hadn't been very well trained to follow commands. Lord knows who his previous owners had been or what they'd let him get away with. One of these days, I was going to have to take him to doggy training school. One of these days.
He was a smart dog, though, and there was no denying that. Border Collies usually were. He seemed to know exactly where we were headed and he wanted no part in any of it. I couldn't blame him. But it was starting to get dark and we needed to get to the crime scene before I was stumbling around, using a flashlight to look for clues.
Eventually he budged and started to follow me. Flustered from the exhaustion of trying to get him to walk with me, I flung my messy hair back and straightened up to see Brenda smirking at me across the street. "Thank you, Jasper. Now you've made me look even sillier in front of Brenda." Like I couldn't even control my own dog. And I knew that she wouldn't let me forget it the next time she saw me, either. She'd use it as further evidence that I couldn't be trusted to be in charge of anything.
Thankfully, Jasper behaved himself for the rest of the journey. I glanced over my shoulder before we entered the clearing again, just in case Brenda had decided to follow me. Honestly, I would not have put a stunt like that past her.
Actually, anyone could be watching us. Maybe even the killer. After all, don't killers often return to the scene of the crime?
I shivered, glad that I had Jasper with me for protection as well as moral support. He was already sniffing the ground while I tiptoed carefully through the clearing. I was wearing heels, as I always did, which maybe wasn't the best choice of footwear for most people. But to me, they are the most comfortable type.
It was getting too dark to see properly, so I had to pull my phone out to use it as a flashlight. The ground, usually slightly swampy for being so close to the lake, was considerably dryer after the heat wave we'd been going through, so my heels didn't sink into the ear
th.
I let Jasper off his leash and gave him free roam of the clearing. A little hesitant at first, he quickly caught the scent of something and went racing. Soon, he was yapping at something on the ground and I hurried, almost tripping in the dark, to catch up with him.
Jasper had his nose firmly buried in the ground and I used my flashlight to illuminate his muddy nose before I turned the light toward the ground.
"No way," I murmured as my flashlight picked up the glint of silver. I reached down and picked up the thin piece of jewelry.
A bracelet with the letter E on it.
I turned it over and admired it in my hands. It looked hand-crafted, even though it was clearly made of fine silver. Whoever had made it had considerable skill. It made me feel a little embarrassed about my own handmade bracelets.
Did it belong to the victim? I couldn't shake the feeling that it did. But, if that was the case, how had the cops missed it? I knew they weren't the most cutting edge police force in existence, but this did seem like a glaring oversight.
"I wonder if she made this herself," I murmured to Jasper, who was already off again, scratching and sniffing in another spot of earth. I slipped the bracelet into my pocket, knowing I should call the police but wondering, at the same time, if that was really the wisest thing to do.
I heard a snapping sound like footsteps on a twig and jumped up, calling Jasper to come quick. If there was someone there, I didn't want to find out who it was.
Jasper was the perfect dog on the walk home. He seemed to sense, like an instinct, that I was not in the mood to be held up and he needed to behave himself.
Now I had something else to add to the white board. I taped the bracelet to it and stood back.
A bracelet. An E. And a dead woman.
And where was Casper? It had been three nights and she still hadn't returned.
I couldn't shake the feeling that the two things were linked, tied up with each other. Don't ask me how, it was just a hunch. Instinct.
Chapter 3
The Pottsville heat wave had hit its fourth consecutive day without the weather breaking and it had lent a calm, relaxed feeling to the town. The summery weather seemed to have cast a spell and people were traipsing around town in long flowing skirts and sunglasses like they were in a Vogue shoot, laughing and ordering iced coffees.
Of course, there was one resident in Pottsville you could always rely on to not have a good time.
Brenda greeted me at the door of the craft shop with her arms folded. Great, I thought. I wonder what I have done now. It was funny, given that I was the owner of the shop and ostensibly the boss, that I always felt like Brenda was in charge of me. But just try telling her that. Just try telling Brenda anything she didn't want to hear, and good luck getting her to listen to it.
"I had to go down to the town hall and register us this morning," Brenda said, before placing her mouth in a firm line.
"Register us for what?" I asked. "Improv classes?" She could do with some lightening up. I took a sip of my iced latte and waited for her unamused response.
"Haha. Very funny."
"I try my best."
"We have to register the store—and ourselves—if we are to have a stall at the Pottsville Arts and Crafts Festival this weekend," she said.
I wanted to groan. Not the Arts and Crafts Festival again. Or, as one could call it, 'Brenda's sole reason to live.'
"I thought we just turned up on the day with a fold-out table and started selling stuff," I said with a shrug.
"No," Brenda returned angrily. "Georgina, do you have any idea how anything works?" she asked, appalled. "You can't just turn up!" She shook her head. "If it wasn't for me, we might have missed out on participating at all."
Heaven forbid. I swallowed my pride, though. "Thank you, Brenda." That was what she wanted from me, wasn't it? A thank you? From the look on her face, maybe she wanted me to grovel at her feet.
"And you've sorted out what you are bringing to the festival, haven’t you?" Brenda asked as I tried to push past her to get to the back of the shop. My escape. "I don't want you embarrassing us!" Brenda called.
I hid in the back of the shop when one of my least favorite customers—and Brenda's apparent best friend, a woman named Lisa Riemer with short cropped brown hair—came in for their daily gossip sessions. She never, or rarely, ever purchased anything so it was better if I just stayed out of the way. Lisa was actually one of the 'younger' women in the town—she was probably only 38 or so—but like most of the woman in Brenda's gang, she acted like she was already heading toward old age. Even though she was interested in a lot of arts and crafts, her main passion was knitting. When she did actually spend money in the store, it was on yarn. But on this day, she had come in just to gab.
I could overhear fragments of their conversation. "I intend to take no prisoners," Lisa stated firmly. "I will do whatever it takes this year, don't you worry about that."
I had no idea what she was talking about but it sounded slightly scary. I busied myself by hanging my bracelets—large, bold, and colorful with heavy beads—onto a display case. Some of them had price tags on them, as I'd intended to sell them at the festival, but now I wasn't so sure that was the brightest idea. Maybe Brenda was right. Maybe they'd only embarrass us. Maybe I needed to come up with something better before the weekend.
I heard the front door open thanks to the bell over the top of it that always jingled when we had a new customer. Assuming that Brenda would take care of greeting our new patron, I stayed focused on my bracelets. Maybe the display stand wasn't the right place for them. Maybe the trash was.
The heavy footsteps of our new customer approached me and I lifted my head, surprised, but ready to ask them if I could be of any help.
"No, thanks, just browsing," Ryan said with an easy grin as he took his police cap off and cradled it in his hands.
I was pleasantly surprised to see him and couldn't hide my smile as I stood in front of the display stand, trying to hide it.
"Long time no see," I said as I raised my eyebrows.
He grinned back at me. "I've been busy," he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "I came by to tell you something, actually. As long as you keep it between the two of us," he said, lowering his voice.
"You'd better keep your voice low unless you want Brenda to overhear you," I pointed out. "I can keep a secret. She can't."
Plus, Lisa was still buzzing around. She was in second place, only behind Brenda, for the title of town gossip.
Ryan turned around and noticed both women staring at him with silent expressions and their mouths wide open. "Erm, actually," Ryan said. "Maybe it's better if we go outside."
"Agreed."
Outside may have been slightly more private, but the sun was beating down, almost causing me to break out in a sweat. Not exactly the way I wanted Ryan to see me.
"The bracelet was actually helpful," Ryan commented.
"I can't believe your detectives missed it."
After much deliberation, I had delivered the bracelet to the Pottsville police station and told them where I'd found it. I hadn't actually expected to be kept in the loop, however, so Ryan's presence, and his being forthcoming with details, caught me a little off guard.
Ryan nodded. "That was strange, actually." He shrugged. "I suppose that sometimes, these things just happen though. Things get missed."
I wondered if things would get missed if they had better detectives on the force. Detectives, for example, like Ryan. Maybe he should use this as an opportunity for promotion. I thought that I might bring that up with him later. He had clearly come to see me for more serious business than that.
I kept my voice quiet and turned my head away from the front of the shop in case Brenda could read lips. I wouldn't have been surprised, actually. "So, you know who she is now?"
Ryan nodded. "The detectives did some digging. Her name was Erika. Erika Joyce. She was thirty-three years old." He stopped when the door to the shop swung ope
n and Lisa came swanning out, raising her eyebrows at the two of us. Was anywhere safe? We both waited until she was out of earshot before we continued our conversation.
"How did she die?" I asked. "She was killed, wasn't she?"
Ryan nodded, but barely perceptively.
"The only reason I'm delivering this information to you rather than the detectives on the case is because of my personal connection to you."
Personal connection.
"Well, I'm glad," I said. "The whole thing has been weighing heavily on me. I only hope we...I mean, your detectives, can find out what happened to her now."
"Actually, I was hoping that you might be able to help me," Ryan commented.
"More than I already have?" I raised an eyebrow. "You'll have to put me on the payroll soon."
Ryan let out a soft laugh. "Well, it's more due to your area of expertise."
I had to wonder what that might be, exactly. "Well, I'm an expert in a lot of things..."
"Arts and crafts," Ryan said, cutting in. Oh. That area of expertise. "Apparently, Erika was in town for the Pottsville Arts and Crafts Festival."
"The arts and crafts festival?" I asked, confused. "But that's not until next weekend." Believe me, I was very aware of the dates, no thanks to Brenda and the constant pressure to perform. She had us officially registered, and there was no way that she had the dates wrong. "No one has arrived for that yet. I doubt people will really start pouring in until Friday afternoon."
Ryan frowned. "She got the dates mixed up, I suppose. That, or she was just desperate to spend the extra time in Pottsville."
Huh. I wondered which was the more likely. Probably that she got the dates wrong.
"Well, now I feel extra bad," I murmured. "I didn't know that she was a crafter..." Well, I hadn't known anything about her, had I? But now it was really hitting too close to home.
"It’s not like you had anything to do with it, George." Ryan looked around carefully again. "Just keep an eye out, I suppose. Be careful. And if you hear anything, let me know." He placed his police hat back on. "And I mean it. Be careful."
Craft Circle Cozy Mystery Boxed Set Page 11