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Sins & Needles

Page 18

by Reagan Davis


  “It’s the first draft of my next book,” he replies.

  “But no one gets to read your first draft,” I remind him of his own words. “Never.”

  “I’m making an exception,” he says. “You and Eric may read it.” He winks. “I can’t wait to hear what you think of it.”

  We wave them off, and after Mitchell and Zoe drive away, we scatter, exhausted from the week’s events. Adam goes back to the town hall, April and Tamara return to their bakery, and Connie and Archie go home. Eric and I head upstairs to his apartment.

  “Piper was right about one thing,” I say, sinking into the leather sofa. “Your peace lily is much happier in its new location.” I nod toward the plant that has sprouted blooms since Piper moved it.

  “Maybe it would have bloomed on the windowsill,” he responds, sitting next to me. “We’ll never know.”

  I hold up the USB drive between us. “Who gets to read it first?” I ask.

  He takes the drive from me and looks at it up close. “Let’s read it together,” he suggests. “Then we’ll discover at the same time how your father kills me in his new book.” He gets up and retrieves his laptop from the breakfast bar.

  “He might not kill you,” I say in defence of my dad.

  “I interrogated him and told him he was a suspect,” Eric reminds me. “I think my literary death is a done deal.”

  “You also eliminated him as a suspect, caught the real culprit, and love his daughter.”

  “I planned to ask your dad for permission to propose to you,” Eric admits. “But I decided against it.”

  “Against asking Mitchell’s permission, or against proposing?” I tease, knowing it’s the former, not the latter.

  “Against asking Mitchell,” he clarifies. “I know it’s traditional to ask the bride’s father, but nothing about our relationship or family is traditional. I was asking the wrong person.”

  “You were,” I agree. I’m about to launch into a lecture and tell him I’m a forty-one-year-old woman who makes her own decisions, and he doesn’t need anyone’s permission to propose to me other than mine.

  Before I open my mouth he says, “I need to ask Hannah and Connie.”

  Sigh. Eric is traditional at heart. He wants to do things right. He’s eager for us to get married, but he’s waiting for me to be ready, which I’m not. Yet. Soon, though.

  “I hope our life goes back to boring now that the book fair is over, and you solved Claire’s murder,” I say, eager to change the subject.

  “You mean, we solved Claire’s murder,” he corrects me and inserts the USB drive into his computer. “It’ll be nice and boring until the next murder.” He chuckles.

  I swat his arm. “That’s not funny,” I say. “You’ll tempt fate saying stuff like that.”

  “I’m sure fate would agree that we’ve solved our share of murders,” he reassures me. “I have a feeling life will be wonderfully boring from now on.”

  I wish I had the same feeling.

  Epilogue

  Eric and I finished reading the first draft of my dad’s book, Shark Attack: Fresh Blood.

  Good news: He didn’t kill Eric. Bad news: He killed Adam. Again.

  The protagonist, Rock Granite, is ready to retire but not ready to give up on capturing Alan Mandell, AKA The Shark. Rock takes on two proteges, Aaron Stone and Michelle Moldavite. Aaron’s physique and strength are imposing, and he has experience in personal combat, while Michelle is clever and saves them from dangerous situations by outwitting their opponents. The chemistry between Aaron and Michelle is intense, but they try to ignore it. They have a Springer Spaniel sidekick named Stella.

  Aaron and Michelle take up the mantle of hunting The Shark while the retired Rock Granite acts as their mentor and guide. Just like Rock Granite, Aaron and Michelle track down The Shark, and their final confrontation results in The Shark’s apparent demise, though his body is not found.

  Not only did Mitchell not kill Eric, but he made Eric a hero.

  Also by Reagan Davis

  Knit One Murder Two

  Killer Cables

  Murder & Merino

  Twisted Stitches

  Son of a Stitch

  Crime Skein

  Neigbourhood Swatch: A Knitorious Cozy Mystery Short Story

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  About the Author

  Reagan Davis doesn’t really exist. She is a pen name for the real author who lives in the suburbs of Toronto with her husband, two kids, and a menagerie of pets. When she’s not planning the perfect murder, she enjoys knitting, reading, eating too much chocolate, and drinking too much Diet Coke. The author is an established knitwear designer who regularly publishes individual patterns and is a contributor to many knitting books and magazines. I’d tell you her real name, but then I’d have to kill you. (Just kidding! Sort of.)

  http://www.ReaganDavis.com/

 

 

 


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