by Tara Randel
“There was no avoiding it.”
He laughed. “I can understand why. Your grandmother made this hard to resist.”
“Can you help?”
“Sure, where is this house?”
She gave him the address.
“I have some pressing issues that I have to deal with, so give me a few days.”
Annie hated to wait that long, but she couldn’t push him. He was generous enough to help, but he had a job to do and that came first.
“I know you’ve heard this before, but I really appreciate your help, Ian.”
“Actually, I’m glad to help.”
After saying goodbye, Annie stared at the cross-stitch for a long moment. “We’re getting closer,” she whispered to the Lady in the Attic, if only to convince herself.
* * *
Tuesday dawned with a slight mist that continued into the early morning. Annie had driven to Magruder’s Groceries for string to secure the covering for the Betsy Original. She’d hoped for a better day to transport the piece and got her wish as the sun burst through the mass of gray clouds on her return home. Happy that she didn’t have to worry about inclement weather after all, she hummed as she walked up the path to the porch. Keys still in hand, she unlocked and pushed the front door open and nearly tripped over Boots as she streaked out of the house.
“Hey! Slow down there.” Usually the cat only moved that fast when there was food involved.
Shaking her head, she entered and closed the door. Just in time to see a dark shape looming in the hallway.
“W-what?” she stuttered, dropping her purse.
The figure dropped a large object, then ran into the kitchen. Annie heard the back door slam.
It took several moments to get her wits about her. When she did, she rushed toward the object, now recognizing it as the framed Betsy Original. She picked it up and carried it back into the library before running to the kitchen. The door was partially open. Annie looked outside but didn’t see the intruder. She closed and locked the door, leaning back against it to catch her breath and slow her heart rate. “This is getting very scary,” she whispered.
Her heart jumped against her chest minutes later when a knock sounded at the front door, followed by the doorbell. Cautiously, Annie moved to the living room to covertly peek out the window. Relief overwhelmed her when she saw Alice standing on the porch.
“What took so long?” Alice asked when Annie finally let her in.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Alice’s expression turned grave as she viewed Annie’s face. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone tried to steal the Lady.”
Alice’s eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”
“I had to run down to Magruder’s Groceries, and when I got back, there was someone in the hallway holding the Betsy Original. I startled him, and he ran off.”
“We need to call the police.”
“I intended to, just as soon as I pulled myself together.”
Alice marched to the kitchen and picked up the phone to punch in a number. Annie assumed it was the police department. She was glad Alice took control. Her shaking fingers wouldn’t have accomplished much.
Fifteen minutes later, an officer arrived at Grey Gables. Annie assured the young man that she was fine, then gave a statement, including a description of Roger Smith, the man who had been asking about purchasing the Betsy Original. The officer looked over the hallway and went to check the back door, eventually rejoining the ladies. He promised to drive by the house while on patrol. Annie told him the Betsy Original would be at A Stitch in Time after today. He made a note of that before going outside to take a last look around the perimeter of the house.
“Are you sure you’re fine?” Alice asked her for the tenth time.
“Now I am,” Annie assured her.
“Do you still want to go to A Stitch in Time? I’m sure the others would understand if you canceled.”
“Actually, I think the Original will probably be safer there. Mary Beth must have a store security system. I could leave the piece there for the time being.”
“Good idea.”
“Let’s not say anything about this. I don’t want them spooked.”
“Annie--”
“Just for the time being.”
“Okay,” Alice replied, her tone less than sure.
“Let’s get the Lady wrapped up.”
They went to the library. Annie replaced the muslin wrapping she’d draped over the piece before the intruder had removed it. Alice folded a thick blanket securely around the frame while Annie made sure the bundle was safely fastened together. Despite the fact that she knew the piece wasn’t safe here at Grey Gables, she had a hard time actually wrapping it for delivery. An odd foreboding nagged at her, as if the events of the day weren’t the end to this crazy turn of events. Probably just nerves, she thought, but couldn’t be sure. Still, she couldn’t back out. She’d made a promise to her friends and had to follow through.
“This is going to make the girls crazy,” Alice said as she stepped away from the frame. “Covering the piece in total secrecy until the official unveiling.”
“Think of it like Christmas morning.”
“That should work.”
Annie hoped so.
Just before eleven they arrived at the store. The Hook and Needle Club waited by the door, anticipating their entrance.
“We can’t wait to see it,” Mary Beth laughed, her unwavering gaze darting directly to the large, covered frame.
“At least let us get in the door,” Alice groused as she and Annie carried the bundle inside and set the framed piece on the counter for safekeeping until they removed the outer covering. “At this rate, we may not let you see what’s underneath.”
Peggy glared at her. “Alice MacFarlane, you’re just plain mean. And a showoff. You’ve already seen the Lady.”
“You would make us wait?” Gwendolyn demanded.
“Alice is just playing with you.” Annie scanned the interior of the shop to see where Mary Beth had set up the display easel. “Don’t you think we should wait for Stella?”
Peggy glanced at her watch. “She’s usually here by now.”
“I called her to tell her about the unveiling,” Mary Beth told the group, a look of regret saddening her face. “I don’t think she’s coming.”
Annie ignored the piercing disappointment. Maybe she hadn’t gained any ground by hoping Stella would come and look, but they had to move on. “In that case, the uncovering is the first item on our agenda.”
“We have an agenda?” Kate asked, confusion wrinkling her brow.
“We’re a club, right? We must have a plan.” Annie looked at Mary Beth. “Don’t we?”
“Have you noticed one so far?”
“Well, no.”
Alice came up behind Annie and grinned over her shoulder. “Ms. Detail is all about lists and organization. Don’t hold it against her.”
“The only thing I’m going to hold against anyone,” Mary Beth announced, “is time we’re wasting.”
“Then I shouldn’t torture you any longer.” Annie strolled to the frame to remove the outer blanket. She left the muslin in place. “I don’t know,” she said, her brows angled together in feigned concern. “Maybe we should work on our projects first.”
“Annie,” Mary Beth warned.
“Okay.” She laughed as she and Alice loosened the muslin before placing the frame on the easel. Once they were sure it was secure, Annie grabbed two ends of the muslin to snatch it away. “Ta-da.”
Gasps followed by total silence.
“My reaction, exactly,” Alice whispered to the women.
As a group, they all moved forward to view the Lady more closely.
Mary Beth spoke up first. “As usual, her stitching is flawless.”
“The detail.” Gwendolyn slipped on her glasses. “Very lifelike. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I’ve always envied
her talent, but this makes it official.”
Annie moved close and placed a hand on Kate’s shoulder. “Don’t ever be envious. You have your own special talent.”
Kate glanced at Annie, eyes welling up. “Thanks,” she whispered.
The ladies shifted position to inspect the handiwork. Annie stood back with Alice to watch their reactions. After a good fifteen minutes of oohing and ahhing, Annie insisted they sit down and get back to the task of working on their own projects.
“We have a treasure here,” Gwendolyn told Annie. “Your grandmother outdid herself on this piece.”
“You really wonder what the Lady was thinking about,” Kate remarked. “What was going on in her life? It looks like a happy place and time.”
“But does anyone recognize her?” Annie asked.
They shook their heads.
“Not any more in person than in the snapshots you took,” Mary Beth said.
“I was afraid of that.”
“I’m not one to get all sentimental--”
“Really, Peggy,” Alice teased. “Do tell.”
“But that woman must have really meant something to your grandmother. You can tell she worked hard to bring that across.”
“That’s what I thought too.”
Gwendolyn nodded. “The hours she would have put into it.”
“And knowing Betsy, it was time well spent.” Mary Beth stood in front of the frame. “I can just imagine her working into the small hours of the night, striving to get this finished.”
“A labor of love,” Gwendolyn agreed.
“And unless we know who the woman is, we’ll never know why my grandmother stitched it.”
“You know, there is a way to solve that dilemma.”
All eyes moved to Mary Beth.
“Spill,” Alice told her.
“We feature it at A Stitch in Time. I’ll e-mail my customers that we’re going to show a new Betsy Original. Make a call to the president of the New England Stitch Club with viewing dates. We’ll be swamped.”
Annie hesitated. “I don’t know if that’s what Betsy had in mind.” Or if she wanted Mary Beth to be in danger by housing the piece here.
“Betsy was always generous about sharing her work.” Alice reached over and patted her hand. “You never know what might happen by showing the piece. Someone might recognize her.”
Gwendolyn’s needles clicked as she knitted. “Your grandmother left you a gift, Annie. There’s no way to know what her intent was because she didn’t leave you instructions, but she must have trusted your judgment.” She stopped, looked around the group. “Like we do.”
Like we do. Three little words, but words that meant the world to Annie. Words she was thrilled to hear. She’d wanted to fit in, hoped she would, and Gwendolyn’s words about trust confirmed it. Still, could she let Gram’s work go? Her own personal link to a woman who had given her so much, taught her so much? Did she want to share it with the world?
Though she didn’t have an answer to all those questions, she knew one thing for certain. She really wanted--no, needed--to find the identity of the woman in the cross-stitch. Maybe displaying it was the only way to find out.
Oh, Gram, I wish I knew what to do.
“We aren’t going to twist your arm,” Mary Beth assured her. “But knowing Betsy like I did, I don’t think she’d mind. After all, she had lots of work on display in her life.”
Which begged the question, why had this particular piece been hidden in the attic? And who wanted it so badly they would try to steal it?
Annie looked at these women, these friends. She knew that they wouldn’t steer her wrong. At least she hoped they wouldn’t.
“You know this is a big deal for me.”
“Yeah, we do,” Alice told her in a gentle voice.
The club hour went by quickly, with the women still admiring the Lady in the Attic and reminiscing about Betsy. By the time they’d all gathered up their projects for the day, ready to say good-bye, Annie needed reassurance.
“Allowing public access to the piece will be a good thing, right?”
Alice rolled her eyes. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you.”
“And that’s what I’ve been trying to accept.”
Peggy opened the door. “We’re leaving now, so your final answer is?”
Gwendolyn swatted at Peggy. “Give the girl a minute.”
Mary Beth groaned. “We’ve given her lots of minutes. Sixty to be exact.”
“Which I appreciate. I’ve made up my mind.”
Kate grinned. “She’s going to say yes.”
“How could you possibly--”
“Peggy!”
“All right. I’ll be quiet.”
Kate continued with her original thought. “Because she has that look.”
“The look that says …” Mary Beth waved her hand in a circular motion to urge Annie on.
She couldn’t keep them in suspense any longer. She had to commit. It was now or never. Making a mental note to tell Mary Beth about the intruder at Grey Gables earlier that morning so she could take precautions with the Lady, Annie said, “The look that says … yes.”
Amid claps and relieved laugher, Alice shook her head. “I couldn’t have prolonged that any better if I tried.” She flashed a heartfelt grin at her friend. “The list of reasons why I’m glad you’re here keeps getting longer.”
“You’ve certainly added a much needed shot of life to our club,” Mary Beth said, hugging Annie.
Even if she hadn’t meant to.
17
Word soon got out about the revealing of a posthumous Betsy Original. And, much to Annie’schagrin, the fact that someone had tried to steal it from Grey Gables. The notoriety alone created a steady stream of customers pouring through A Stitch in Time. With the air of mystery surrounding it, everyone was eager to view what was being billed as Betsy’s greatest work, and also to buy needlecraft items, as Mary Beth happily pointed out. For three weeks now, Mary Beth had walked around with a huge smile on her face, clearly in her element. Kate, on the other hand, worked more hours, with the perk of being able to display her hand-crocheted jackets. When Annie came by for the regular Tuesday morning Hook and Needle Club, Kate looked completely worn out.
“You’ve been busy?”
“Crazy is more like it. Who knew how big this would be?”
Yeah, who knew? Standing across the room from the framed cross-stitch, Annie couldn’t help but feel as though she’d lost a bit of control in her own life. Sure, the piece was a hit, but, according to Kate, no one recognized the young woman. And while Annie had gotten used to sitting in her quiet living room to gaze at the piece, now she had to come downtown to the shop and stand in line like everyone else. She felt like her grandkids with a toy they didn’t want to share, tempted to stomp her foot and say “mine” and wrap up the piece to bring back home to Grey Gables. But she’d made a commitment and would keep her word.
Gwendolyn emitted a groan behind Annie. “I guess we’ll have to cancel the club today. There’s nowhere to sit.”
Annie turned. “Not only that, with all the commotion, I don’t think we’d get much done anyway.”
“Then let’s do something else.” Gwendolyn hooked her arm through Annie’s and drew her outside. “I know just the thing.”
Thinking they would end up at The Cup & Saucer like everyone else, Annie was surprised when they passed the diner and headed to the end of the block, crossed the street, and stopped outside a recently renovated storefront. Through the windows Annie could make out a small construction crew. And none other than Stella.
“The new cultural center?”
“When it’s ready. Stella called John last night for advice about her newest financial venture. He was amused because Stella has plenty of family money for this project of hers. I think she wanted John to pass the news on to me without having to actually talk to me.”
Taking hold of the door handle, Gwendolyn went inside with An
nie on her heels.
Stella, with her back to them, barked out orders like a commander in battle. She glanced at her watch. “I have one hour, gentlemen. Snap to.”
Before Stella noticed them, Annie surveyed the vast, open room. The dark wooden floors had been buffed to a bright sheen. The scent of fresh paint permeated the room. Two men worked on installing track lighting while the other assembled recessed shelving.
“My, my, you are the busy one,” Gwendolyn said as Stella turned on her heel, stunned to see them.
Her hand flew to her chest. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“With all the instruction-giving, I imagine not.” Gwendolyn nodded in approval. “This old storefront is turning out wonderful. Your cultural center will be a hit.”
Stella glanced around, as if seeing the space through the eyes of others. An unusual uncertainty crossed her face. “Do you think so?”
“Most definitely. Very professional,” Gwendolyn said. “How about a tour?”
“There isn’t much to see right now, but this is it.”
Stella hesitated to say more as she looked at Annie out of the corner of her eye. “You’re here now. You might as well know what’s going on.”
With that said, she explained that the main open room would house the exhibits she hoped to showcase. The reception desk hadn’t arrived yet, but would be placed strategically by the front door. There would be display tables set up as soon as she had inventory. There were two offices in the back, as well as a small kitchenette and bathroom.
“So this is the tour,” Stella said as she finished. “It was slow going at first since I’ve been working alone, but it’s finally all come together.”
“I thought you had help.”
Stella’s eyes darted away momentarily. “I did initially. My new board has been a great help, but the women all had other commitments. I needed the work done by today.”
“Today? What have you planned?” Gwendolyn pressed.
“A dear friend from the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston is vacationing in the area. I asked her to stop by and give me her input.” A panicked look crossed Stella’s face. “She’ll be here in an hour and I’m not ready.”
“What can we do to help?” Annie asked.