Free Monica Ferris_Needlecraft Mysteries_03 by A Stitch in Time Page A

sympathetic ear—and I’m a gifted eavesdropper.”
    â€œI guess a really hard struggle can give you that veneer, too,” said Betsy, feeling much more sympathetic toward Patricia and trying to put a good face on her own remarks.
    A little after five, just as Betsy was locking the front door, Jill appeared, large and dark, on the other side of the glass. She was in uniform and carrying a big box wrapped in midnight blue paper with silver and gold stars on it.
    â€œBetsy, the weatherman says the storm system is still stalled and there’s a blizzard warning out from here to Fargo.”
    â€œSo? I’m not driving to Fargo. Who’s the present for?”
    â€œYou. It’s your Christmas present,” Jill said.
    â€œOh. Thank you,” said Betsy, ashamed for the second time that day of her sharp tongue. Jill put it into her arms and Betsy was surprised at how heavy it was. She hadn’t bought Jill anything remotely this substantial. “I’ll take it upstairs.”
    â€œNo, take it with you. It’s a bunch of little things. If you skid off the road, you can open them up to keep from being bored waiting for rescue. Now I’ve got to get back on patrol. Good luck, and drive very carefully.”
    â€œI will. And thank you for the present.” Betsy had to go upstairs to feed Sophie, who was already sitting impatiently by the apartment door, but decided it was less effort to carry the heavy box to her car than up the stairs. She took it out back to put it on the passenger seat.
    Up in the apartment, she checked the map one last time, put on her heavy coat, her new leather boots, her hat and scarf, and, pulling on her driving gloves, went down the back hallway and out into the storm.
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    Her big mistake was probably at that first turn. She knew Route 19 turned sharply to the right, but since she was looking for a curve rather than an intersection, she went right on through.
    She noticed soon after that her brakes seemed soft, but they went quickly from soft to virtually nonexistent. She had to shift down to control her speed on curves.
    It was totally dark, of course, and the snow was coming down heavily, so she had to weave a bit, using her headlights to make sure she was on her own side of the road. The road’s surface was a white blank, and slippery. And the bridge the map had indicated just before the turn to Heidi’s house never came. This was wrong. She was lost.
    Betsy was not the sort who wouldn’t stop and ask for directions, but now, ready to do so, there didn’t seem to be anyplace to stop and ask. When trees didn’t closely line the road, she could see nothing but thick snow, blowing directly into her windshield. But surely, if there were a gas station or some other kind of store, its lights would pierce the storm. Betsy saw nothing.
    After awhile, she looked at her watch. She’d been out for forty minutes, which was supposed to be the entire time of her journey. She decided to stop at a private residence if she could see one, and find out where she was. But she wasn’t afraid, she told herself, only a little nervous and concerned.
    She began to realize she hadn’t seen another car in some while. She couldn’t even see any trace of previous vehicles on the road.
    She tried to think what to do. Lake Minnetonka dominated the terrain around here. It was a large lake, with an extremely wobbly outline. Some said it was a collection of bays, others said it was actually seven lakes and a couple of creeks. In either case, that meant a thousand miles of shoreline. And by now, she had no idea which part of the shore she was on.
    A curve ambushed her, and as she went into it, the wind came sideways, pushing at her car like a huge, soft hand. Her brakes were useless, but she wasn’t going fast, so the car spun gently. Betsy could only hold onto the steering wheel, watching the play of headlights on a whirl of white snowflakes. Then