The weather had been uncooperative and Parker struggled to get decent footage of Marta walking alongside the ocean with some of the quilters. They’d all been stuck inside Quilting Central, and Diana was grateful to have her sewing project. Parker had run out of things to record, which only played in Ewan’s favor, as the two of them spent more and more time together.
Surprisingly—though Leo was annoying—Diana was grateful he was here. He worked hard to take care of Marta—making sure she had plenty to eat and drink, doing whatever he could to entertain her, and going to great lengths to make her smile. As the days went by, the wall Marta had erected between her and Leo began to crumble. There were whispers around Quilting Central that they might be getting back together.
The one thing Diana could’ve done without was Leo’s complaining about Jacques. He better keep his big mitts off of my lovebug! It was ridiculous. Jacques didn’t seem to have any interest in Marta at all, beyond keeping her safe.
Their first Sunday in the village had been another challenge that Diana could’ve done without. When Marta refused to go to church—or the kirk as the Gandiegowans called it—Deydie was so irate, Diana was worried she might drag Marta to church by her ear. In the end, Tilly stayed with Marta at Partridge House with Jacques watching them both, while Diana joined the rest of the quilters in their pew, singing hymns and enjoying the service.
Lastly, Diana was so tired of Marta arguing with her about every new idea to help her image. Cait had been busy with baby Hamish’s ear infection so putting off the interviews wasn’t a problem. Thank goodness the retreat was starting tonight, which would make for some great footage to post.
Diana looked out the window of Quilting Central, daydreaming. Possibly about Detective Chief Inspector Crannach, but she wasn’t owning up to it. An hour ago, she’d finished her Gandiegow Library quilt top and Sadie had passed it off to Moira, another quilter. Moira put the quilt top on the longarm machine to quilt the top to the batting and the back. Being creative this last week had really helped Diana and she felt positive about the upcoming retreat. She pulled out her phone, deciding that clearing her email would be a more productive use of her time than thinking about Rory.
Her phone dinged with a text from Nicola at Three Seals.
Since you came up with this crazy scheme, I want you to put together a comprehensive plan for how to promote the continuation of the quilt to death series.
Diana wanted to jump for joy. But she held it together until she could pull Tilly to the kitchen area of Quilting Central, where they could be alone and no one could hear them.
“I just heard from Three Seals,” Diana started.
“I get to publish the new book?” Tilly had never smiled this big.
“I don’t know yet. But it’s a great sign that they asked me to put together a promotional plan.”
Tilly’s face fell. “Oh.” She glanced over at Marta, who was arguing with Deydie about something…again. “Even if they say yes, Marta will stand in my way.”
“I told you not to worry about Marta.” But Diana knew Tilly was right. There had to be some way to get Marta to see reason. “Anyway, we don’t have to worry about that now. I’m going to get started on the plan right away. The quicker I get it done, the faster Three Seals will have an answer. Don’t lose hope.”
But Tilly’s sullen expression said she already had. She wandered away, back to Marta’s side, a sad loyal dog.
Just as Diana pulled out her notebook to start working on the promo plan, Deydie climbed up on the small stage.
Deydie clapped her hands. “All right, settle down now. The retreat goers will be here soon. Let’s straighten things up for them.”
Diana shut her notebook and helped the others.
An hour and a half later, Diana, Parker, some of the Gandiegow quilters and more than a few fishermen stood in the parking lot, as a small van pulled in.
“Everyone knows their jobs, right?” Deydie barked. “Dinner will be waiting for them at Quilting Central at half-past six.”
“Yes, I’ll take care of it,” Rachel said patiently.
As the quilters climbed out of the van, Rachel and Deydie greeted them, and Diana gave them each a stack of fat quarter fabrics, the first of many goodies they’d been promised for participating in this retreat.
Diana tried to gauge the quilters’ attitude toward Marta Dixon, but most of them seemed reserved, perhaps even wary. She was going to have to do some quick damage control if she was going to get any video during the retreat that would soothe the angry fans.
As soon as Deydie and Rachel had led away the fishermen transporting the luggage, Diana addressed the quilters.
“Thank you all for coming to what I hope will be a wonderful and enlightening event. I’m really glad you could make it on such short notice.”
“We weren’t going to pass up a free retreat,” one gray-haired lady said.
“Even though we aren’t happy about what happened to the Buttermilk Guild, we’re going to try and be nice to Marta Dixon, as Cait suggested on the phone. Marta, after all, is the reason we could come back here…on her quid.”
Well, it was really on Three Seals’ dime, not Marta’s.
“Thank you all in advance. Ms. Dixon is just devastated—” that was one way to put it “—at the idea that she has disappointed her readers. I would appreciate it if no one would question her about the Quilt to Death series. Just enjoy your retreat. We’ve brought along a lot of fun quilty prizes, so there’s a lot to look forward to, starting with the lovely dinner tonight, which we’re going to head to right now. Later, we’ll have show-and-tell.” The quilters perked up at the prospect of more free swag, and it was a much happier group walking to Quilting Central than they had been a few minutes earlier. Everyone carried a bag holding the quilt they planned to share at the show-and-tell, a traditional feature of many quilting retreats. When they arrived, Quilting Central had been transformed into Dining Central, with three long tables covered by autumn print quilts as tablecloths. On the back counter was an Italian buffet, compliments of Pastas & Pastries.
The quilters stowed their quilts in the library corner, which had been set up for the quilt stories and show-and-tell. They knew the drill and made their way to the counter, not hesitating to fill their plates. When everyone was seated, Diana texted Tilly:
Tell Marta it’s time for her grand entrance.
Five minutes later, Tilly came in, holding the door for Marta.
“I’m here, everyone!” Marta announced gaily. It was fake cheer, but Diana was glad the sourpuss Marta-of-the-last-week hadn’t come to Quilting Central tonight. Marta certainly knew how to get her audience worked up—in a good way, this time. “Are we going to have a great retreat or what?”
Diana saw Marta’s eyes dart over to Parker and her camera, as if to make sure the red recording light was on.
“As you all know, Gandiegow is the hometown of Graham Buchanan. Who here would like to have him pop by Quilting Central?” Marta raised her hand and all the others’ hands shot up, too. She turned and gave Diana a winning smile. “Let’s see if we can make that happen.”
Everyone applauded. Except Diana. Cait had made it clear the first time they’d spoken that she fiercely guarded Graham’s time at home. He was going to be in Gandiegow for a few days during the retreat, which Diana hadn’t shared with anyone. She didn’t know what she was going to do now that Marta had strongly implied he’d come by to see them.
“Eat up now. We have a lot of fun events planned over the next several days,” Marta said.
She then walked among the tables, and greeted each of the quilters like an old friend. She smiled, clasped hands, posed for an occasional selfie, and bantered with them all. Diana was awed at Marta’s ability to act nice when she most definitely wasn’t being sincere.
When she was done, she joined Diana and Parker, her back to the group. “When’s this going to be over?”
Diana kept herself from rolling her eyes. “I told you. Next we�
��re going to do a quilt signing and giveaways.” She didn’t have to worry about Marta getting to eat. She’d insisted on having her dinner delivered earlier to Partridge House.
Five minutes later, the quilters started getting up from their tables and relaying their dishes to the kitchen.
“You’re on.” Diana handed Marta a pen and ignored her grumbles as the quilt fiction mogul sauntered over to the library area of Quilting Central.
“Okay, everyone,” Marta sang out. “Let’s all head over here.” She motioned with her arms like she was guiding a plane of quilters into the gate.
“I understand that some of you have books with you for me to sign.” She held up the pen. “I’m ready whenever you are,” she said more to the camera than she did for the retreat goers.
The quilters took their seats, but no one offered her a book.
Marta easily pivoted. “But right now, how about we start the retreat off with soommee—” she held the word out to increase anticipation “—giveaways!”
Diana handed Tilly the box and Tilly hurried it over to Marta, as if they’d choreographed this moment.
“Kits for everyone!” Marta cheered. She really was charismatic.
The quilters clapped.
“The kit you’re receiving is for the quilt from the new book. The Rook quilt.” Marta pointed to the front wall. “Your bag has all the fabric you’re going to need plus the quilt pattern. This is our project for the duration. What a treat!”
Marta passed around the kits—soaking up their thanks as if she’d been the one to cut out the wool and flannel pieces herself. Every quilter became absorbed in examining her kit, which would retail for almost 200 pounds in the quilt shops.
Jacques stood by the door, at the ready, watching the proceedings as if the quilters might attack Marta at any second. But free fabric would tame just about any group of quilters.
Deydie walked over to Diana. “Well, isn’t she chipper? Herself acts as if she hasn’t committed a crime.” She glanced sideways at Diana. “Caitie tells me I have to stay away from Marta Dixon during the retreat. Normally, I do as I please, but me granddaughter has threatened to keep wee Hamish from me if I rip Marta apart. As I surely want to do! That banshee killed the Buttermilk Guild and acts as if she’s done nothing wrong!” Deydie cleared her throat, perhaps giving herself a moment to pull herself together. “For now, I’ll do as Caitie asks. But mark my words: I’ll have a nice chat with Marta Dixon before she sees the last of me and Gandiegow.”
Diana was determined to change the subject. “Are you going to eat?”
“Later,” Deydie grumbled. “I need to prepare for the stories.”
Diana wasn’t quite sure what the stories were, though they’d been mentioned many times, and they were written into the itinerary. She hoped Deydie wasn’t going to take the opportunity to roast Marta.
“Excuse me,” Diana said to Deydie. “I need to check in with Parker.”
Parker was following Marta around, catching her friendly exchanges with the quilters and filming their reactions to their kits.
Diana tapped her on the shoulder. “Parker, do you have a good place scoped out to tape show-and-tell?”
“Yes. I’ve chosen a few angles.” Parker laughed as if she was musing over a private moment.
“What is it?” asked Diana.
“Ewan told me the funniest story, a joke actually. About a sheep not knowing anything about cars. I can’t remember all of it, but it was funny.”
For the past week, Parker had talked nonstop about Ewan. During the day, that is; in the evenings, they went on dates. Diana didn’t believe in love at first sight, but Parker insisted that’s what had happened to her and Ewan. Which only sparked thoughts of Rory in Diana’s mind…for about the thousandth time that day.
Parker grinned broadly. “Ewan is the sweetest, sexiest man I’ve ever met.” She didn’t give Diana a chance to respond. “He asked me to meet him at the pub when we’re through here. Is that okay?”
Darn it! Diana had been planning for the two of them to work together to edit the footage immediately afterward. But who was she to stand in the way of love? “Sure. Just make certain to email me your video before you go off on your date. The sooner we get the positive buzz going, the better.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“And Parker, I don’t want to sound like your mother, but be careful with your heart. We’re only in Scotland for a short while.”
“A short while can be long enough.” Parker smiled as if fairytales were true.
Tilly shuffled over, hunched down, and whispered to Diana, “Marta wants you to talk to Cait Buchanan about getting some pictures with her husband while we’re here.”
Diana sighed. “Tell her I’ll check with Cait and get back to her.” She really needed to ask Three Seals for a raise after this trip!
Deydie clapped her hands again, a technique she apparently used often. When she had everyone’s attention, she spoke, “Okay, one by one, ye’ll show the quilt ye’ve brought, and make sure to tell yere story about the quilt and not just hold the darn thing up. Every quilt has a story.”
The retreat goers pulled their quilts from their bags. Most of them had brought a quilt featured in a Quilt to Death novel. She went to her own bag and pulled out a permanent fabric pen, slipping it to Tilly, who then handed it off to Marta for signing the quilts.
Diana stood up and said cheerily, “Marta will be happy to sign your quilts, if you’d like.”
The retreat goers sat silently. Finally, one person sighed heavily—as if it was up to her to do the right thing. She dug around in her bag and produced a scrap of fabric. She rose and handed the scrap off to Marta.
“What’s this?” Marta asked.
“For ye to sign,” the woman said, as she glanced around to see if anyone was going to back her up.
Marta looked down her nose at the strip of fabric, as if she’d been offered a limp piece of cold bacon. After a moment’s hesitation, she gingerly took the fabric between her thumb and forefinger, laid it on the table in front of her and scratched out her signature with the permanent ink marker, something she’d done a thousand times before. This time, though, it appeared she couldn’t even muster up a fake smile, as her collagen-filled lips had been replaced by a severe red line. Deydie was standing with a gleam in her eyes, seeming to enjoy the sight of Marta getting put in her place. But Diana a felt a little sorry for Marta. She was accustomed to being presented stacks of beautiful quilts to autograph, instead of a scrap that might end up in the waste basket. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
She gave Deydie a “what now?” look. Deydie pointed to a woman in the front row. “You, start us off. Stand up and tell us about yere quilt.”
“My name is Lorna, and this is the Lover’s Knot quilt from book five in the Quilt to Death Series. I used fabric from my stash to make it.”
Diana made her way to the back and listened as each person held up her quilt and told something personal about it—like the reason she’d made that particular quilt, who it was made for, or something special about the fabric. Diana was completely enthralled. She was beginning to understand why quilters were such a tight-knit group. They felt their emotions deeply and put those emotions into their beautiful creations.
When everyone had shared, Deydie hobbled to the front of the group. “Get to bed, lassies,” she said good-naturedly. “For tomorrow, we go to Whussendale.”
The quilters filed out happily and Diana felt relieved at how well things had gone. As she walked back to the quilting dorm, she actually felt hopeful that the bad luck surrounding the Quilt to Death series was behind them, and she couldn’t wait to work on the promo plan before bed.
A noise came from the shadows between the houses on Thistles Wynd. Startled, she stopped to listen, but heard nothing but her pounding heart. Her mouth went dry. She’d felt safe in Gandiegow, but not now. She wished Rory were there to walk her the rest of the way. She figured she had two choices: spend pre
cious time digging her phone out of her purse to use as a flashlight, or walk faster. Instead, she ran.
All the way to the lighted porch of Duncan’s Den, she had the weird feeling she was being watched. She hurried inside, thankful she was bunking with the quilters and would have company for the rest of the night. She hoped Ewan would be a gentleman and walk Parker back to the quilting dorm, because Diana didn’t want to go out again to get her. She sent a quick text to Parker to remind her to be careful.
Diana chatted with the two quilters who were in the kitchen, then excused herself to go work on Tilly’s promo plan. She toiled over the strategy until she was nearly cross-eyed, then put the notebook on the nightstand and turned out the light.
She lay in the dark, thankful for the quilters snoring in the room next to hers. But she didn’t have the feeling of safety that just a whiff of Rory would offer
The next morning, Diana woke to her alarm ringing. Groggily, she turned over to see that Parker’s bed hadn’t been slept in. A cold chill went down Diana’s spine.
Parker hadn’t come home to the quilting dorm last night.
8
Worry had Diana fully awake now. She snatched up her phone and called Parker.
On the fifth ring, she picked up. “Hello?” She sounded sleepy.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?” Parker asked.
Diana heard someone in the background. A male someone.
“It’s Diana,” Parker said to him. “She’s worried about me.”
“Sorry,” came Ewan’s voice from a distance. Then louder, as if Parker had put the phone on speaker. “I kept her out all night. We stayed in the hunter’s cottage by the loch, only a few miles from Gandiegow.”
“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Diana wasn’t sure when her racing heart was going to return to normal.
“I’ll see you soon,” Parker said and then she hung up.
Diana wanted to see Tilly first thing this morning and talk about the book signings and guild presentations that she would have to do to make her book ten a success. Maybe if Diana got over to Partridge House now, she’d catch Tilly before Marta rolled out of bed and monopolized her.
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