Free Silence of the Lamb's Wool (A Yarn Retreat Mystery) by Betty Hechtman

doing so many different things, I’d be able to pull off the retreat. She sounded so convincing, I started to believe it.
    I took out my cell, glad to have a signal, and called the rancher. My suggestion was fine with him and we agreed on a time for the next day.
    “Instead of the sheep coming to us, we’re going to them. I’ll take the early birds with me,” I said to the couple.
    “I’m coming, too,” Lucinda said. The restaurant is closed on Wednesday, so any time is fine.
    Tag straightened a knife on the table next to him. “Exactly how many of these so-called early birds are there?” he asked.
    “There’s Olivia, Bree, Scott, Lucinda and me,” I said.
    “You can’t get five people in that little car of yours, and where would you put the fleeces?”
    Before I could say anything, he continued. “We’ll take the restaurant van. I can put the seats back in.”
    “You’re coming?” I said, surprised.
    “Yes, give me the location and I’ll chart the course tonight.”
    I had never gone anywhere with Tag and wondered if I was making a mistake. But under the circumstances any and all help was appreciated, so I accepted and they said they would pick us up in the morning.

8

    The reality of the situation began to sink in as I sat in my kitchen. What was I going to do? In a couple of days, twenty people were going to arrive here expecting an organized retreat.
    When I’d looked through my aunt’s notes for the Sheep to Shawl weekend, it sounded like such a good idea, particularly since I’d met Nicole and she had been so enthused about it. But all that had changed.
    Julius was sitting on the chair next to me, giving me a dirty look. I’d tried feeding him the leftover chicken breast Lucinda had given me before I left the restaurant, but he walked away with a plaintive meow.
    Maybe my mother was right. Maybe I had made a mistake and taken on more than I could handle. I shook my head, trying to get rid of that thought. Had I just said, even to myself, that my mother might be right? No way. But still I had that feeling of wanting to take off.
    But I couldn’t cancel the retreat; it was in two days.
    “When you get hungry enough you’ll eat it,” I said to Julius as I headed to the door. The early birds were expecting me to join them for dinner. The cat stared at me for a moment, flicked his tail and walked toward the bedroom.
    How could Nicole have died? She was only twenty-seven.
    The grounds of Vista Del Mar were quiet as I passed through on the way to the Sea Foam dining hall. The dinner bell had rung and almost everyone was already inside. I caught a whiff of the scent of hot food as I neared the building. Somehow in the mix of the day I’d forgotten about eating and my hunger had just shown up with a vengeance.
    I recognized the frizz of Bree’s blond curls as soon as I walked inside. She, Olivia and Scott were sitting at a table near the massive stone fireplace. Scott certainly wasn’t hiding that he knit anymore. Something partially done in a masculine shade of brown was on the table next to his place setting and I saw he had the needles in his hands and was working them as he talked to his tablemates.
    They all looked up as I pulled out a chair next to Olivia. I was glad to see that the color had returned to Bree’s face and she seemed back to normal, but then she didn’t know about Nicole’s death yet.
    “What’s for dinner?” I said, glancing at their plates. Olivia pushed her plate closer to me.
    “Mushroom stroganoff,” she said. She showed me a card sitting on the table explaining that Vista Del Mar had adopted the plan of going meatless on Tuesdays. “It’s quite the green thing to do now,” she said. It must have been another of Kevin St. John’s changes. I suppose he’d mentioned it before I’d joined them the other day.
    Whatever it was made of, it smelled delicious and I went to get a plate. The plan was I’d eat and then break the news about Nicole. The only one whose