Death Among the Doilies Read Online Free Page B

this,” Jane said to Cora in the car on the way back to the house. Her voice was strained with weariness and fear.
    â€œIt’s not your fault,” Cora said.
    â€œI know, but my background complicates things. Starting over wasn’t a good idea for me. I’ll never be able to put it all behind me,” Jane said, her voice cracking.
    Cora’s stomached fluttered. “But you already have,” she said. “This is a minor blip.” Cora had worked to persuade Jane into this venture. A gifted potter, Jane added plenty to the craft retreat’s offerings.
    They sat silently, with the hum of the car engine and the radio station blaring the news of the day.
    â€œLet’s hope word doesn’t get out about all this. You know what small towns are like,” Jane said. “We have a business now and reputation is everything.”
    Cora had been thinking similar thoughts. “Well, let’s keep it on the down low. Nobody needs to know anything, right? You weren’t charged.”
    â€œYes, but I’m still a person of interest.”
    Cora pulled the car into the drive and parked it. “Let’s keep doing our best with the retreat. Let’s just focus on what’s in front of us and not get carried away.”
    They both were still slammed with preparing for Thursday’s opening. At least the menu was settled. The cleaning seemingly never ended. Boxes of broom straw still needed to be unpacked and put away, and the paper-crafting room still needed sorting. Crafters would be here in three days.
    If she managed to pull it all off in time, this business would be a dream come true for Cora.
    She watched Jane walk down the garden path to the carriage house. Jane’s normally proud, confident gait had turned into a wilting trudge.
    â€œGood night,” Jane turned and said.
    â€œGood night.”
    Cora stopped before entering the main house and gazed at the autumn night sky. She made a wish that nobody would find out her friend was a person of interest for the murder of the school librarian. Even as she thought about it, she marveled at the absurdity of the situation. Jane had come a long way since she had tried to kill Neil.
    Cora remembered the first day Jane walked into the Sunny Street Women’s Shelter. They were friends as girls, growing up together in Pittsburgh, then lost track of one another when Cora went to college. But out of the blue, her drop-dead gorgeous long-lost friend appeared at the shelter. But she was dejected, standing in the lobby, seeking help.
    That look of dejection and shame was a familiar one to Cora by then, and it tore her up to see Jane in such a condition.
    That was the beginning of the end of Cora’s counseling career. By that point, she had started her blog—“Cora Crafts a Life.” Not a moneymaker back then, but the blog was a creative and therapeutic outlet for her. She blogged about her life as a counselor and a crafter. She wrote stories about the women in her shelter life. The abused women who found solace in a craft, whether it was knitting, needlepoint, or scrapbooking, inspired her. Soon, her blog was earning more money than her counseling. She realized her doctors were right—writing and crafting helped to prevent her panic attacks. But not quite enough.
    So she began to envision a craft retreat.
    She searched several months to find the right place and the right investors. But here she was, now, climbing a flight of stairs in an old Victorian almost mansion, where she lived in the attic with Luna. In a few days, a group of crafters would be filling the place. A broom maker would be teaching a class, Ruby would be teaching candle making, and, the way Cora envisioned it, some women would be drawn into the paper-crafting room, others into the almost-finished fiber-arts room. They were still working on the alcove that had been marked for upcycling—a “craft” that Cora adored. She loved this