Free Murder, Handcrafted (Amish Quilt Shop Mystery) by Isabella Alan

the barrage of words I was about to throw at him, and I had some doozies in mind too. “I know you’re worried about him. You have every right to be. I’m only suggesting that caring for your parents isn’t your only motive for wanting to stay here.”
    My eyes narrowed into slits. “What are you implying, Sheriff?”
    He focused his blue-green gaze directly at me. “You want to snoop.”
    I didn’t confirm or deny this.
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “This case is going to be a pain. I can already tell. And it’s not just because the crime was committed on your parents’ property, but that certainly doesn’t help.”
    “Neither does Bigfoot,” I reminded him. “That’s a new one.”
    He groaned. “There’s no such thing, but there will be some Amish in the county who will be offended just by the rumors of its existence. They aren’t much for make-believe, as you know.”
    I nodded. Martha Yoder immediately came to mind. She would hate the rumor about Bigfoot in the county and would somehow blame me for it. Martha had once worked for my aunt at Running Stitch. She had even taken care of my aunt Eleanor while she was battling cancer.Because of her loyalty to my aunt during that difficult time, she had expected that she would be the one who would inherit Running Stitch upon my aunt’s death. To her surprise, and frankly to mine, Aunt Eleanor left the shop to me. Martha never forgave me for that and, out of spite, opened a rival Amish quilt shop, Authentic Amish Quilts, right next to Running Stitch.
    I untied Petunia and led her out the front door. Oliver and Mitchell followed me as I walked the goat to my small SUV parked crookedly on the street. “At least you have a good suspect.”
    Mitchell arched his brow.
    “Mallory, Griffin’s fiancée. Something is up with her. She already lied once.”
    His gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”
    I went on to tell him about seeing Mallory in Griffin’s truck the day before.
    “Interesting,” Mitchell said thoughtfully.
    “Can I talk to Jonah before I go?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “He’s still being questioned. I need to have a little chat with the fiancée.” He squeezed my hand. “Don’t do anything stupid. Please.”
    “Me?” I asked. “Do something stupid?”
    He shook his head and walked back into my parents’ house.
    As much as I wanted to stay and support Jonah while he was being questioned, I knew that I could do more good by finding out everything I could about Griffin Bright and those who might want him dead. I also needed to find out how Kamon, Jonah’s cousin, died, and why he thought Griffin had been responsiblefor his death. It would be some time before I could hear the story from Jonah, so I needed to consult another source.
    I gave the house one last look and loaded my Frenchie and the goat into my car.
    It was still early and the shop didn’t open until ten, so I had time to stop at home and shower.
    I got home, freshened up, and told Dodger he had to stay home for the day. He was not pleased. But Petunia and Dodger didn’t get along, and I couldn’t contend with a goat versus cat smackdown on top of everything else.
    When I reached the shop, I walked Petunia to the small fenced backyard by way of the narrow alley that divided my shop from Martha Yoder’s quilt shop.
    “Try not to eat all of the flowers,” I said even though I knew the request was pointless.
    I was going to be alone in the shop that day. I had given Mattie time off to help at the pie factory. She’d said that Aaron needed her the entire day. The request was unusual. The factory had been open for six months, and this was the first time that Aaron had Mattie fill so many shifts. I hoped that Aaron wasn’t trying to take her away from the quilt shop and back into the family business. I didn’t know what I would do if I lost her. I’d never find another assistant as good or as flexible with my many ideas.
    I glanced at the clock hanging over the sales