Free Ladle to the Grave (A Soup Lover's Mystery Book 4) by Connie Archer Page B

Marjorie replied. “We have a few things—in the back storeroom. Cecily can show you.” She smiled broadly. “Is this for Sophie’s wedding dress?”
    “Yes. It’s almost finished. I’d like to add some embellishment and I need to find something that would work for a veil.”
    “Oh, we might have just the thing,” Cecily replied.
    Lucky heard the door to the street open behind her. She turned to see Greta carrying a tote bag full of books. She wore the same brown dress and sweater she had worn the first day Lucky had seen her at the Spoonful.
    “Greta, hi,” Cecily said. Greta nodded shyly in return. “You’re here for the books?”
    “Yes,” she replied.
    “Hang on just a second, Lucky.” Cecily hurried into the storeroom and returned with a stack of five hardbound and three paperback books. “Can you manage these in your tote bag?” she asked.
    “Oh, yes. Just put them all in here.” Greta held the heavy cloth satchel open while Cecily slid the books into it.
    “Lucky, have you met Greta yet?” Marjorie asked. “She’s doing a lot of volunteer work for the library.”
    “Yes. We met at the Spoonful.” Lucky smiled. “And we share the same apartment building. Nice to see you again.”
    “Hello again.” Greta nodded and attempted a wan smile.
    Lucky wished there were some way she could put the woman at her ease. She always appeared so nervous. “By the way, Greta, I have a lot of books that moved back to Snowflake with me. I’ll go through them and donate them if you think you can use them for the library.”
    “That would be wonderful. Our drive has been very successful so far. We appreciate anything you’d like to give.” She turned back to the sisters. “Thank you so much for these, Cecily . . . Marjorie.” She ducked quickly out the front door.
    “Well, that was quick,” Marjorie remarked. “She skittered away so fast you’d think she was afraid of us.”
    “I know,” Cecily said. “I’ve seen her at the library. She’s afraid of her own shadow, poor thing.” She shivered. “She makes
me
nervous.” She smiled quickly, dismissing the feeling. “Come on back, Lucky,” she added, indicating Lucky should follow her into the rear of the store.
    “We do have some things—a small supply we keep just in case. No point getting rid of it; it’s all useful for something.” Cecily opened the door to the small storeroom in the rear of the shop. A long table took up most of one wall. On the other side was a sewing machine with a rack of spools of thread hanging on the wall above. Next to that, a bureau with deep drawers. On the far wall were shelves and several bolts of fabric carefully protected in plastic.
    “Is the dress white?” Cecily asked.
    “More of an eggshell color, if you know what I mean. Very simple and flowing. It’ll look beautiful on her with her dark hair. I need some soft netting material for a veil and maybe some beading for the dress.”
    “Oh, how romantic,” Cecily breathed. “I can’t wait to see her on her wedding day!”
    Lucky realized she’d reached a point at which she’d need to keep a list for Sophie and Sage.
    Cecily pulled down one of the bolts and laid it on the long table. She carefully slid the plastic covering away from the fabric. “This is lovely stuff. Hard to find, you know.”
    Lucky picked up an end of the soft material. There was no stiffness to it. When she lifted the cloth, it hung easily. “This is perfect. Right color . . . gorgeous.”
    “What are you using for the headdress?”
    “Haven’t quite decided yet. I was thinking of going over to the big fabric store in Lincoln Falls to see what they have.”
    “Hang on, dear. We might have something.” Cecily hurried to the bureau and opened the top drawer. Inside were hat and shoe accessories in plastic cases, bags of buttons, hem binding and zippers. Cecily rummaged some more and retrieved a large plastic bag of small pearls, already prepared with tiny holes for