Craft Circle Cozy Mystery Boxed Set

by Stacey Alabaster

  I did my very best to keep my focus on work for the rest of the day, even managing to let Brenda's not-very-carefully disguised barbs get to me as I tidied store, ordered new stock, and tried to figure out what I was going to try and sell at the Arts and Crafts Festival.

  As I walked home, Ryan's words kept echoing in my head, even more than when I was dealing with customers or trying to drown Brenda out. I kept thinking that he knew more than he was letting on. His words didn't just seem like a caution. They seemed like a warning.

  But a warning of what?

  What was I supposed to do? Act suspicious of everyone I interacted with? Well, actually, that probably wasn't such a bad idea. I stroked Jasper's head while he lay happily at my feet. After all, I didn't know anyone in this town. Not really. Not well enough to really trust them. There was only one person in town I could trust, and that person wasn't even a person. He was a dog.

  And Jasper, clever as he was, seemed to pick up that something was wrong. I'd promised him that this time was different, that this time, crafting had nothing to do with the murder.

  But it did. It might have everything to do with crafting. Maybe Ryan's warning just meant, back off. You remember what happened last time. You almost ended up with a broken neck and a smashed head. You almost ended up six feet under.

  I glanced over at the whiteboard. The bracelet with the E that I'd taped up had been replaced by a careful sketching of the very same thing.

  She was a talented crafter, that was for sure. No wonder she'd been drawn to the arts and crafts festival. Her carefully crafted bracelet put mine to shame. I wasn't glad that she was dead, but I was glad that I wouldn't have to go up against her.

  Still, none of it made any sense to me. All I had next to the drawing of her body and her bracelet was a giant question mark.

  "Why did she arrive in town so early, Jasper?" I asked, petting his head while he gobbled up his food later that night. "And who in this town could possibly have a motive for killing her?"

  Chapter 4

  I'd gotten flack for my handmade posters before, but this one served a noble purpose and I was hoping no one would actually be rude enough to run their mouth.

  Wishful thinking.

  "Much loved pet. Reward offered."

  Underneath the dark font, printed on the bright yellow paper, was a picture of Casper. This was the second lot of posters I'd put up. The first had been on plain white paper so I was hoping the new, bright ones might attract more attention and that my beloved and much missed pet might finally be returned to me. She wasn't at the shelter, so I could only assume that someone was holding on to her because they wanted her for themselves. I couldn't blame them, really. She was a cute, sweet dog, and anyone would be lucky to have her. I hadn’t been her adopted mom for long and part of me wondered if I had any right to even ask for her back.

  More than anything I just wanted to know that she was okay. Even if she was in a new home. Of course, I wanted her home as well. But the most important thing was to know that she was safe and in a good home.

  "These look terrible," Brenda commented with her mouth pursed as she hung another sign on a street post. "And you should be specifying exactly what the reward is."

  I let out a heavy sigh. At least she was helping me hang up the signs. I couldn't really complain, could I?

  Could I?

  "I want to attract genuine callers, not people who are only interested in the reward money."

  "You mean you don't have much money to offer them," Brenda said sharply as she reached another street sign and taped up another bright yellow flyer.

  She was kind of right but I wasn't about to admit it. I didn't have much to offer, but what little I did have, I was going to give to whoever returned Casper to me. I'd only had her for a little while but she was already part of the family, and I wasn't about to go cheap on the reward. It's just that other people might think the amount was cheap. Those who actually had money. And there were plenty of wealthy people in Pottsville. I just wasn't one of them.

  "Have you ever thought of looking at Amanda's?" Brenda asked quietly.

  I looked at her in surprise and lifted up my sunglasses so I could get a better look at her. "No, actually. Should I do that?" The thought of going back to Amanda's house seemed a little sick to me. I hadn't been there since she'd died. And I didn't much like the thought of turning up there.

  Brenda shrugged a little and put up another flyer. "Well, Casper was Amanda's dog. Maybe she went home."

  The thought made me a little sad. Maybe Casper really had been missing her old home so much that as soon as she'd escaped, that was the first place she'd ran to. Maybe she still considered that her 'home.' As much as that saddened me, it also filled me with a little hope. "Thanks, Brenda," I said, patting her on the shoulder. "You've actually proved helpful for once."

  "Hey," she said, offended. But I had already taken off. I had a clue, a lead, as to the whereabouts of Casper, and I wasn't about to waste any time following it up.

  Amanda's house was just like I remembered it. Well, more or less. It was still a cute little cottage and it still had a rose garden in front, but now the lawn was overgrown and the rose garden was littered with weeds. A 'for sale' sign hung out front. Brenda lived right across the street and hadn't been shy about gossiping over the fact that the real estate agent was having one heck of a time selling the place. I suppose not many people wanted to live in a house where a woman had been murdered. I am one of the special ones. Or, is that one of the stupid ones?

  I steeled myself and entered the gate and walked around the property, calling Casper's name. I searched all through the garden, the backyard, and even stuck my face up against the window to peer in. But it was all in vain.

  No sign of Casper. I sat down on the stoop, defeated. I'd really thought that Brenda might have been onto something. It did make sense that Casper would come back to Amanda's cottage. But there wasn't any sign that a dog had been there recently. No fresh holes in the earth, no doggie droppings on the lawn. She hadn't been there.

  I leaned forward, my head resting in my hands, and sighed loudly. I felt as though I'd let Casper down so badly. Every day that passed made it seem less and less likely that she was ever going to come back to us. I was running out of leads and I felt so sad that I was almost on the verge of tears. I was glad for the setting sun, just in case anyone spotted me. I didn't want people to see me cry.

  I saw Brenda's front door open and a figure step outside and head toward me. Oh great, I thought. The last person I want to see me in this condition is Brenda.

  But after a few seconds, I realized that it wasn't her at all. It was her husband, Tom. He was a pleasant looking man in his mid-fifties with a thick head of hair and a fit figure. I'd only met him the one time when he'd dropped by the shop to bring Brenda's lunch to her. She always brought a packed lunch as she said that paying for a lunch was the same as being robbed.

  Well, it looked like Tom had stayed true to character and brought me something to eat.

  "I saw you sitting out here," he said, placing a tray of cookies and some iced tea down. "Well, Brenda did, but her shows are on now and she didn't want to miss them."

  "Thank you," I said, hoping that the last sign of my tears were gone.

  "You're sad about your dog, 'ey?" Tom asked in a warm, kind voice. "Don't worry, George. I'm sure she'll turn up soon."

  I was surprised that Brenda was married to such a nice man. But, I supposed opposites did attract.

  "I'm sure you're right," I said decisively, before I took a long gulp of iced tea. I hadn't realized how parched I was. The heat wave had really sapped my strength. "I've just got to keep positive about this whole thing. Thank you, Tom." I grinned at him and noticed that in spite of his warm smile, he also looked like he'd had a rough day. And I could tell from the look of his tired, weathered hands that he was a hard worker.

  "Long day?" I asked.

  Tom nodded. "Been battling some particularly strong
killer weeds down at the old Parson's place today." He shook his head and grinned. "Thrills of being a freelance gardener, I suppose."

  I was a little surprised to hear that was Tom's profession. "You're a gardener?"

  “Yep, I have been for nearly thirty years.” He took a cookie off the tray and took a bite. "I was actually working at the Pink Flamingo Lodge where that young woman was staying. Or, trying to stay." He shook his head. "I could never quite tell what was going on. All I knew was I heard an awful argument."

  I frowned, trying to figure out what he was saying. Young woman? I let out a little gasp as I realized who he might be talking about. "You mean Erika?" I whispered, though I wasn't quite sure why I was keeping my voice so slow. It just didn't feel right to speak about it in loud tones. "The woman who was killed four nights ago?"

  Tom nodded. "That's the one. Terrible thing, wasn't it?" He stopped eating his cookie and stared off into the distance. "I was pruning their hedges that very day. I saw her."

  Now I was beginning to catch up. I couldn't believe that Brenda hadn't told me anything about this.

  "Wait, hang on," I said, confused. "You heard Erika having a fight with the manager of the Pink Flamingo Lodge?"

  Tom nodded again, but he stood up and collected the tray. "It's probably not good manners to discuss these sorts of things though, is it?" It seemed like he couldn't get away quick enough as he collected the cup and tray and started to back away. "Good night, George. I really should be getting back to Brenda.”

  I wondered if he'd gone to the police with this info. I glanced over at their house. I could make out Brenda in the front room on her sofa, presumably watching some TV show. Surely he must have shared it with Brenda at the very least. What reason did she have to keep it all so quiet and close to her chest when she usually couldn't stop herself from spewing gossip all over town?

  Just how much did Brenda actually know?

  And why was she so intent on keeping it to herself? Just who was she protecting?

  I didn't want to let Tom get away so quickly, even though there seemed to be a magnet attached to his back pulling him toward the house.

  "So she was arguing with the manager the day that she died?" I again asked Tom, who was still trying to escape. I could see Brenda keeping a careful eye on us through he window.

  Tom made a face like he really didn't want to say anymore but reluctantly continued. "They said they were double-booked and she'd have to find accommodations elsewhere. And she wasn't too happy about it either."

  "Huh. No room at the inn, hey?"

  Tom shrugged and looked back over his shoulder.

  So once she'd been turned away, where did Erika go?

  I had to find out. I stood and dusted off the crumbs that had collected on my lap. "Thanks for the refreshments, Tom," I said with a bright smile. But I had far more to thank him for than just cookies and iced tea.

  "No problem," he said, but his teeth seemed a little gritted. "And good luck finding your dog, George."

  "Brandi!" I said, getting up to my feet. I threw the celeb mag I'd been reading to the side and took off my reading glasses. "Well. You are a breath of fresh air around here, aren't you? I thought you were at college?"

  She grinned back at me, her long blonde curls cascading over her shoulders. "I'm on summer break," she said, glancing around the store. "Is my aunt in by any chance?"

  You would never guess that this bright, young woman was related to Brenda.

  I glanced up at the clock. "She'll be starting at ten o'clock," I said. "Feel free to wait for her, though. I could use some young company around here."

  Brandi giggled. "I know what you mean," she said with a little sigh. "I can't believe I'm choosing to spend my vacation in Pottsville. Before I went to college, all I wanted was to get away from this place. I've always sworn I wouldn't come back once I'd escaped. Yet here I am." She grabbed an apple from her tote bag and started to munch on it. "This place is cool though," she said, glancing around. "Can't believe my aunt works here."

  I still couldn't believe Brenda was her aunt. I had to assume she was related to Tom by blood, not Brenda herself, but it seemed impolite to ask. I'd only met Brandi once before when she'd been in town for a visit, but we'd hit it off right away. I don't have any children of my own, but I always imagined that if I had a daughter, she would be like Brandi. She certainly looked more like me than she did Brenda, with her fair skin and tall, slim figure.

  Speak of the devil.

  Brenda pushed through the doors and looked startled for a moment when she saw Brandi standing there.

  "Hello, Auntie!" Brandi said brightly, reaching out to give her aunt a hug. She towered over Brenda, who looked like a tiny mouse in her arms.

  "I thought you were spending your break in the city?" Brenda seemed confused.

  "What, you're not pleased to see me?" Brandi asked in mock offense. I could tell she was like me in that she found Brenda incredibly easy to wind up and sometimes couldn't help herself by teasing her. But Brandi was sweet and never meant any real harm.

  "Of course I am," Brenda said quickly, any hint of sarcasm going right over her head, as usual. "I'm surprised, that's all. Are you in town for the festival?"

  Brandi shot me a look. "Ah, yes," she said to me with a knowing little grin. "The famous Pottsville Arts and Crafts festival. Your first one, right, George? I hope you know what you're in for!"

  I gulped a little, catching sight of my jewelry out of the corner of my eye. Did I know what I was in for?

  Brenda cleared her throat. "Why don't you go and make yourself at home at my house?" she said to Brandi. "Tom will be happy to see you."

  Brandi raised her eyebrow at me again. "Okay, okay. I can see when I'm not wanted," she said with another laugh. "I'll get out of your hair!"

  With Brandi gone, it was just Brenda and I. Wonderful. You could feel the tension between us—most of it coming from my direction.

  I wasn't trusting her much in that moment. Well, I never entirely trusted her, but right then my defenses were really up. I still couldn't figure out why she'd been playing so innocent about the knowledge of Erika's murder when she practically had firsthand knowledge. Something was up.

  "Brandi was right, I hope you know what you're in for," Brenda said, following me to the back of the store where my display of bracelets still stood.

  Brenda looked at my bracelets with disdain. "Surely you're going to showcase something a bit more skilled than those ratty pieces of jewelry, Georgina. I thought I had warned you already. They are garbage."

  Boy. Tell me how you really feel, why don't you?

  "I don't consider them ratty," I said, holding one particularly bright pink-beaded one—flamingo pink, really—up to the light. "I think they are some of my best work."

  Brenda shook her head. "We are supposed to be representing the shop, not embarrassing it," she grumbled. She pursed her lips together and looked thoughtful for a moment before she spoke like she'd just come up with the grandest idea of all time. "Maybe I should set up my own separate stall."

  Oh, why don't you do just that then, I thought. Maybe I could take off for the weekend. Take a vacation and get away from the chaos and hundreds of tourists that were about to descend on the town. Avoid the festival all together.

  But what about Erika? I still felt responsible for finding out what happened to her. I couldn't take off, not now. I let out a heavy sigh while Brenda swayed back to the front of the shop. I still didn't know if I was off the hook. Was she going to set up her own separate stall or not? Don't leave me in suspense!

  The doorbell jingled and I saw that it was Ryan. Usually I was thrilled to see him but in this instance I ducked, hoping he wouldn't see me.

  No luck there. With my height, ducking doesn't work so well.

  "Have you heard anything about Casper yet?" Ryan asked me.

  I shook my head sadly. "Nothing. I've been leaving a bowl of food out for her every night, just in case she comes back." I tried t
o hide the bracelets while Ryan was distracted. "But she never does. And Jasper just ends up eating it in the morning."

  Ryan looked down at Jasper. "He does look like he's put on a few pounds," he teased.

  I batted at him. "Don't! He's a little sensitive about his weight."

  Ryan laughed and then looked back up just as I was trying to push the bracelets out of the way behind the curtain. I'd been caught.

  "What are those? Did you make them?" Ryan nosily tried to take a look.

  "Oh, don't look at these," I said, pushing the bracelets out of the way. "They aren't quite ready for public eyes yet."

  Ryan still tried to push past to get a look at them. "When will they be ready for these so-called public eyes?" he asked with a grin. "I can't see anything wrong with them."

  "I'm not sure they will ever be ready, actually," I said, shoving them behind a curtain. "And certainly not by Saturday."

  I shook my head. What was I doing letting Brenda get into my head like that? She was hardly the go-to woman for style and fashion anyway, with her long beige tunics. She probably just hated my jewelry because they contained actual colors, not just grays and beiges.

  Ryan smiled. "Well, I think they're great. And I think they are going to make a killing this weekend."

  I grinned back at him. "Thank you, Ryan. That was just the sort of confidence boost I needed right now."

  Pottsville Arts and Crafts Festival, here we come...

  Whether I liked it or not.

  Chapter 5

  "Ow!" I said, rubbing my shoulder after a particularly hard bump. I wanted to add, 'watch where you're going,' but then I remembered that we were in a small town, not a big city, and I was supposed to be welcoming these newcomers, not causing them to run away.

  You could hardly walk down the street without bumping shoulders with someone, or getting knocked down. On a normal day in Pottsville, I could let Jasper off his leash and he would happily walk down the relatively empty main street of Pottsville without any trouble. If I let him free now, he would get lost. Or trampled.