Free Sew Deadly by Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page A

“I don’t see a prob—”
    “Page five,” Dixie spat.
    O-kay .
    Tori set the book down, turned the pages one by one until she reached page f—
    “You see? I just can’t abide by this drinking rule.”
    Sure enough, page four and five were stuck together. Gently, and with practiced hands, Tori separated the two pages to find a faded light brown circular stain.
    Coffee.
    “Ms. Dunn, it’s going to happen. Fortunately, most people are responsible enough to refrain from placing a cup directly on a book. As for the policy itself, libraries all across the country are inviting patrons to bring a cup of coffee inside with them. Some are even opening small cafes inside the building. It’s a way to make the library seem more relaxed, more accessible.” Tori ran her hand across the faintly marked page and slid it—open—to the corner of her desk. “I’ll let it dry out and it should be fine.”
    “Drying it isn’t going to make a cotton-pickin’ difference.”
    Realizing there was more at work behind the elderly woman’s anger than a faint coffee stain, Tori crossed her tiny office and opened the door, stepping aside to allow the former librarian to pass. “I really must get back to work, Ms. Dunn.”
    The elderly woman’s eyes narrowed to near slits as she inventoried Tori’s body from head to toe, taking in her soft gray slacks and matching fitted jacket. “After the board sees that book . . . realizes what happened here last night . . . you’d best be looking for another job.”
    “The board is aware of last night’s tragedy. As for the book, I’ll be more than happy to replace it with a new copy. At my own expense.” Tori motioned the woman into the hallway, stepping out of the way as her stout body barreled by. “Thank you for stopping in and voicing your concern.”
    “You ain’t seen nothing yet.” Dixie Dunn stopped in her tracks and spun around, hooked a bony finger in Tori’s direction. “This has always been my library, and it’s only a matter of time before it’s mine once again.”
     
     
    She reached into the small paper sack and extracted the sandwich she’d prepared that morning. The ham and cheese she’d hoped would sound better by the time lunch came around, didn’t. Neither did the apple or chips she’d tossed in along with it.
    It was official. Constant flashbacks of Tiffany Ann’s lifeless body was an appetite suppressant.
    Shoving the sandwich back into the bag, Tori leaned against the white cinder block exterior of the Sweet Briar Public Library and briefly closed her eyes. The moment she’d discovered the girl behind the Dumpster everything had blurred—the screams she’d cried, the panicked phone call she’d made, the hustle and bustle that had followed after nearly an hour of waiting.
    Alone.
    With a dead body.
    When Investigator Daniel McGuire from Tom’s Creek had finally arrived, she was numb, unable to say much more than how she came upon the victim. Though, in retrospect, what more could she have said? It was the first time she’d laid eyes on the young woman.
    Convincing the investigator of that had been the difficult part. No matter how many times she said it, he couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact that she knew things about the victim yet hadn’t actually met her. Then again, he’d probably never experienced the kind of gossip that took place in a sewing circle.
    “He’ll figure it out.” The words drifted from her mouth with the same soft summer breeze that ruffled her hair. It wasn’t until the hushed voices at the base of the maple tree ceased, that she realized she’d spoken aloud.
    Greatttt.
    Not that talking to herself changed much of anything. The circle of women had been looking at her since the moment she’d sat down on the library steps. As if she was some sort of new zoo animal. An inhabitant Dixie Dunn wanted removed—the sooner the better.
    “People around here aren’t used to seeing new faces, Victoria.”
    Leona’s