Free Yarned and Dangerous by Sadie Hartwell Page B

sitting in. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
    Evelyn took the scarf and rubbed it between her fingers, then examined the stitches. “Very nice. I remember her working on this. She said she couldn’t wait to meet you someday. Even talked about taking the train into New York some Saturday to take you to lunch.”
    â€œReally?” Tears welled up in Josie’s eyes.
    â€œReally. Now don’t cry. Cora wouldn’t have wanted that, and neither do I, honestly.” She held up the scarf to Josie’s cheek. “This is a very nice hand-dyed alpaca and wool blend, and it looks lovely with your coloring. Why don’t I make you a hat to match? I seem to recall that brand of yarn being over here.”
    She led the way to a cubby closer to the sitting area, then began to paw through the contents. “Hmmm, it’s not here. But this is where the alpaca yarns were always kept. I suppose she could have sold out of it.”
    â€œThat’s all right. It was sweet of you to offer.”
    Her face brightened. “I know! Let’s check her records and find out whom she sold it to, then we can see if we can get whoever it was to give up a skein or two.”
    â€œCora kept records of whom she sold yarn to?” Of course, large retailers did it all the time. But it seemed unlikely that Cora had a computerized record-keeping system that sophisticated.
    â€œYes, of course. In case the customer didn’t buy enough to complete the project, then Cora could easily reorder for her. Or him. Of course the dye lots would probably be off, but there are ways to work around that. Now where is that book?” Evelyn began to rummage around behind the counter. “Hmmm, I don’t see it. It’s a black looseleaf binder with regular old lined paper inside. Nothing fancy. Look for it when you get back to Eben’s, will you? She must have taken it home, though I can’t think why.”
    â€œI will. And thank you for all your help today.” Evelyn shrugged into her long, tailored coat, a charcoal-gray herringbone that would never go out of style. Josie pictured a pair of black leather knee-high boots underneath, and a cherry-red scarf accenting the neckline. Perfect. She hoped that was what Evelyn was knitting with the wool she’d given her.
    â€œNot at all. I’m happy to help Eben. And you, of course,” she added quickly.
    Josie smiled. Evelyn was not exactly subtle. Should she invite Evelyn to dinner? No, Eb would kill her. But it would almost certainly be amusing.
    â€œSo I’ll meet you back here tomorrow morning around ten?” Evelyn continued.
    â€œI’ll see you then.” Josie accompanied her to the door.
    When Evelyn had left, Josie sat down in one of the armchairs by the front window. She counted the number of baskets and bins that still needed to be sorted, multiplied by the number of hours she and Evelyn had put in today, then wished she hadn’t. It might have been better not to know. And of course that number didn’t include what Cora had stashed away in the morning-borning room at home, or, even worse, what was still in back.
    She looked out the front window at the empty storefront across the street. This little village was so sad, and she was about to make it sadder by closing up one of the only businesses left downtown. Not my problem, she told herself. So why did it feel like it was her problem?
    Movement caught her eye. She leaned forward in her chair to get a better look. Huh? She’d watched Evelyn walk up Main Street in the direction of the general store only minutes ago. But now Evelyn stood in front of that narrow doorway between the two empty shops. She looked quickly in both directions, then appeared to put a key in the lock and turn the handle before disappearing behind the door.
    What was up there? Evelyn was the second woman Josie had seen going upstairs into an apparently abandoned building. Her eyes moved to the rows