Free Tree of Life and Death by Gin Jones Page A

I do know that hungry witnesses are not cooperative witnesses."
    "Just give me a few minutes to find out what everyone wants." I was more than happy to pay for the lunch and collect everyone's order. I'd been planning a donation to the museum this month anyway, and keeping the volunteers fed would benefit everyone. Besides, collecting the orders would give me an excuse to do a little digging and find out what, if anything, the quilters knew about Alan Miller. It wasn't that I didn't trust the detective in charge—it was just that I'd never been good at delegating really important tasks, the ones that needed to be done perfectly. "I'll even pick up the tab. My way of thanking all the volunteers for coming today."
    "You make my job so much easier," Fred said. "I wish you were at all my crime scenes."
    I glanced at the door, where Richie Faria was frowning at us disapprovingly. "I'm afraid your colleagues aren't so happy that I'm here."
     
    *   *   *
     
    While Fred continued to mope over the sad remnants of the refreshment table, and Faria engaged in a conversation with Matt over by the entrance to the boardroom, I headed over to where I'd left my messenger bag beneath the appraisal desk, so I could get something to write the lunch orders on.
    Most of the quilters were huddled around Dee and Emma. As I approached with my paper and pencil, Emma gave me a guilty look and Dee made a shooing motion at her troops. "Go on now. You all know what to do."
    I could have asked everyone to stay, since it would have been easier and faster to get everyone's orders before they broke up, but I thought I'd get more information from them if I could speak to them individually. I remained silent while the quilters wandered off, forming small groups at various workstations.
    "We're ordering takeout from the Teriyaki House," I told Dee and Emma. "What would you two like?"
    "Just tell them we want our usual," Dee said. "Whoever answers the phone will know what it is."
    That was something I still hadn't gotten used to about living in a small town. I wasn't anywhere near as well known as Dee, who'd lived here in Danger Cove her entire life, but many of the local business owners recognized me whenever I stopped in and were able to steer me toward exactly what I wanted before I even knew what I was looking for.
    I made a note for Dee's and Emma's order and then asked, "So, what mischief were you setting the quilters off to do?"
    "Mischief?" Dee's eyebrows rose. "Me?"
    "Yes, you," I said. "I'll tell you the same thing that Detective Ohlsen told me: let the police do their jobs."
    Dee laughed. "Yeah, like you're not already meddling yourself."
    "I'm not meddling," I insisted. "Just making sure the right questions are being asked and no one's jumping to any conclusions."
    "That's all we're doing too," Emma said earnestly. "I promise."
    I glanced at the other quilters scattered throughout the room, and they didn't seem to be doing anything suspicious. "What questions do you think need to be asked?"
    "We think that poor young man was killed because of the Tree of Life quilt he brought in," Dee said, meaning that it was what she thought, and Emma, always supportive unless her friend's safety was at issue, was going along with the idea. "The police won't think that's a valid motive. Can you convince them to look into it?"
    "You'll have to convince me first. Why would someone kill him because of a quilt that belonged to his grandmother and didn't have any real financial value?"
    Dee sighed. "I was hoping you'd have an idea. I just know the murder must have had something to do with the quilt. Alan's been in trouble before, but never anything big. So how come, when he's doing something entirely law abiding and ordinary, he gets himself killed?"
    In Dee's mind, everything was related to quilts. Still, she could be right about Alan's death, and it was definitely a line of inquiry Detective Ohlsen, even with the best of intentions, would never consider. He'd