Free A Killer Stitch by Maggie Sefton Page B

stitches in the alpaca wool scarf. She was making progress. Two and a half feet done. Only eighteen inches to go.
    â€œFrom the way they were looking at each other, I figure they’ve been sneaking out behind our backs for a while now. And you didn’t notice because you’re oblivious to that sort of thing.”
    â€œI am not,” Kelly protested. “I’m just as observant as you and Jennifer.”
    â€œWhen you’re off detecting clues and sleuthing, yeah,” Lisa teased. “But you’re absolutely clueless when it comes to something romantic. You never see those looks Steve throws your way.”
    Some of the knitters seated across the table turned their heads. One of them giggled, then quickly looked away. Kelly felt a slight flush creep up her cheeks. “Your imagination is on overload. You’ve been working too much, Lisa.”
    â€œEveryone notices except you, Miss Workaholic,” Lisa zeroed in, with a wicked smile. “You’ve got to get your nose off that computer screen.”
    Deciding diversion would be the best strategy in this instance, Kelly asked, “Tell me, how did Megan like the guy you and Greg fixed her up with? Was he nice? Did she retreat into her shell?”
    Lisa’s grin disappeared. “She liked him okay, I guess. He was nice and friendly and nonthreatening and acted really interested in her, but Megan shrank right into her shell like she always does. Blushing and responding in monosyllables.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what we can do to help her, Kelly.”
    â€œI don’t think we can do anything, Lisa,” Kelly admitted with a sigh. “This is something Megan is going to have to conquer herself.”
    â€œIt’s so painful to watch, though,” Lisa said. “She’s such a great girl and she deserves someone in her life who appreciates how special she is.”
    â€œI agree, and—”
    Kelly broke off when she spotted Lucy come through the classroom doorway, Ellen close behind. They both found chairs at the end of the long table.
    Lucy’s dark hair was pulled into a long braid down her back, and Kelly noticed she looked wan and pale. Waiflike. Lucy kept her eyes downcast and didn’t glance toward the others until she removed a butterscotch cream wool from her bag and began to knit. Only then did she lift her gaze.
    Kelly gave Lucy an encouraging smile. “Welcome back, Lucy. It’s good to see you again,” she said in a gentle voice.
    The sound of soft greetings and condolences echoed around the table. For a moment, Lucy looked like she would bolt. Kelly detected a quiver of her lower lip. Once or twice, Ellen placed her hand on her friend’s arm, clearly reassuring.
    â€œWould you like some tea?” Kelly gestured to the pot in the middle of the table, surrounded by cookies and assorted edibles.
    â€œNo, thanks,” Lucy murmured, giving Kelly a small smile.
    Lisa leaned forward. “Hi, Lucy, remember me, Lisa Gerrard? We were in the same group at the fitness center a couple of years ago.”
    A spark of recognition flitted across Lucy’s face. “Yes, yes, I do.” Again, her gaze dropped.
    â€œI’m so glad you’ve started teaching classes here now,” Lisa continued. “I’ve heard wonderful things—”
    The rest of Lisa’s sentence was drowned out by the booming voice of Hilda von Steuben as she steamed into the knitting shop harbor. “Good morning, ladies,” Hilda said. “I see you’re all busy at work on your holiday projects. I trust they are proceeding apace.” She unceremoniously plopped her knitting bag at the other end of the library table across from Ellen and Lucy.
    Kelly couldn’t resist. “If ‘apace’ means struggling along as usual, then I am apacing.”
    Lizzie drifted into the room next, darting into corners to check yarns and fibers like a