Free And Then You Dye by Monica Ferris Page A

Joanne didn’t find out about her.”
    “Hmmm, interesting. Do you know Randi Moreham?”
    “Not to talk to, though I’ve seen her around. I think she came into some money. She gave a nice donation to SNAP last year, after a couple of years of much more modest donations.” Betsy was aware of the Spay Neuter Assistance Program that Amy volunteered for. It was a Minnesota charity devoted to decreasing the surplus pet population by offering to neuter cats and dogs at little or no cost. They actually had a van that was a mobile clinic, and were looking to buy a second one. Betsy had made a donation herself last fall—she strongly approved of their mission.
    “I understand she’s on the verge of leaving her husband, and Hailey was offering her a place to stay,” said Betsy.
    “I’m afraid that’s news to me.”
    “Anyone else you know who was a friend—or an enemy—of Hailey’s?”
    “I don’t think so. We didn’t move in the same circles, really.” Amy paused, then changed the subject. “How about I come in on Saturday to pick up that Parsons canvas? And could you pull the yarns for me for it?”
    “Sure, everything will be waiting for you.”
    After they hung up, Betsy made another note about the canvas and stuck it on her refrigerator where she’d be sure to see it in the morning.
    *   *   *
    I N the shop the next morning, Betsy tried to think of a way to connect with Randi Moreham and Joanne McMurphy. She didn’t know either of them, and was pretty sure neither of them had ever been in Crewel World.
    Only pretty sure?
    She went into her computer’s customer database and found that Randi Moreham had in fact come in three times and bought something—the last time over six months earlier.
    Godwin came over to look at what she was doing. “I have an idea,” he said. “It’s something we should do anyway.”
    “What’s that?”
    “Do a special mailing—both by e-mail and snail mail—to customers who haven’t visited the store in a while. Do a ‘We Miss You’ theme.”
    “You’re right that we ought to be doing something like that,” said Betsy. “How quickly can we put it together?” Then she thought of something else. “And how about we offer to send a dollar out of each twenty spent to SNAP?” That additional sweetener might appeal to Randi.
    “Good idea. I can have the mailing ready to send out in a couple of days, if we rush.”
    “Make it so,” said Betsy, smiling.
    “Aye, aye, Captain.”
    Godwin was as good as his word. On Friday morning, after having loaded a file of the finished ad on the shop’s computer, he hit the Send button. A little stack of printed ads waited on the checkout desk for the daily postal pickup. Titled “We Miss Your Smiling Face,” it offered to broaden the smile with a ten percent discount to anyone bringing the ad to the shop. It also noted that one dollar of every twenty spent would go to SNAP, the charity that neutered the pets of poor people.
    And having baited her hook, all Betsy could do was wait.

Eight
    O N Thursday afternoon, June first, Betsy drove over to Hailey Brent’s house, where she found Ruth Ladwig waiting for her in the driveway. “The key is to the side entrance,” said Ruth, holding up a fish-shaped key holder.
    The dead lilacs had been removed from the dining room table. “Philadelphia said she went through the house with an agent,” said Ruth. “The estate sale will be next Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, the house will be staged Tuesday and Wednesday, and a for-sale sign will go up Thursday.”
    Betsy looked around. “Kind of sad, isn’t it?”
    “Yes, but I think the fact of the murder is weighing her down, and she wants very badly to be freed from this reminder of it.”
    They went down the steep, age-grayed stairs into the basement. Ruth turned on the lights.
    The spinning wheel looked somehow forlorn in its place in the middle of the carpet, perhaps because the sky was overcast. The light coming in through the