Free Monica Ferris_Needlecraft Mysteries_04 by Unraveled Sleeve Page B

supposed to be the mystery teacher.”
    â€œWho was the first person to suggest it was Ms. Kaye?” asked Jill.
    Isabel said, “Oh, it was probably several people getting the same idea at the same time. She was the obvious choice.”
    Carla said, “I don’t even know who it was I heard saying it was her, but as soon as I heard the name, I thought that was probably who it must be. She and Charlotte have been friends forever.”
    Isabel looked up from the paper pattern clipped to the edge of her hoops and nodded. “I think that’s why her name was suggested. She only recently started selling her designs, but I know she’s been designing for several years. Charlotte’s the one who encouraged her to submit her designs to catalogs and teach classes. Her designs are good, and some are very clever.”
    â€œAnd they’re selling well,” acknowledged Carla, with what Betsy was sure was as much envy as fair judgment.
    â€œDo you design?” Betsy asked her.
    â€œGoodness no. I prefer the classic models and am quite happy in my humble place as faithful stitcher.” She smoothed a section of her work over her lap. It was of a medieval woman standing outside a pavilion set up under stylized trees. Betsy was sure she had seen that same design in a book on medieval and Renaissance tapestries.
    Betsy was reaching into her knitting bag for her own project when James called her name. “Ms. Devonshire?”
    Betsy raised a hand. “I’m over here.”
    James came to her and said quietly, “Ordinarily I wouldn’t do this, and if you like, I will say I was unable to find you. But there’s a phone call for you in the office, from someone named Godwin. He says he’s sorry, but it’s very urgent.”
    â€œAll right, I’ll come.” Godwin had a tendency to panic, but he knew how much she needed this break. It probably really was important.
    James led her to a door in the far end of the lobby, which he had to unlock. Behind it was a tiny, cluttered office. He handed her a heavy black receiver from a very old telephone. “Hello?” said Betsy.
    Godwin said breathlessly, “Oh, thank God they found you! I’m so sorry to take you away from your weekend, but this is an emergency ! You won’t believe what’s happening here, it’s just awful !”
    â€œTake it easy, Godwin, slow down, what’s the matter?”
    â€œThere’s water coming through the ceiling ! It’s ruining everything !”
    â€œWater? What, is it raining there?” That was a silly question; there were apartments over the shop, rain would have to leak through the roof, the upstairs ceiling and then the floor of Betsy’s apartment.
    â€œNo, it’s not raining! That’s the point ! It’s not raining!”
    â€œThen where is the water coming from?”
    â€œThat’s what I’m talking about! It’s coming through the ceiling ! It’s not dripping, it’s dribbling ! And it’s ruining everything !”
    James made an excuse-me gesture at Betsy and left, closing the door behind him. “Where is it coming from?”
    â€œThe ceiling !”
    â€œFor heaven’s sake, Godwin, make sense!”
    â€œI am making sense! There is water, water simply pouring through the ceiling of the shop, and it’s getting all over everything! There’s a huge puddle right in the middle of the floor!”
    â€œWhere is it—no, never mind, it’s coming from my apartment, obviously.”
    â€œOh,” said Godwin, “is that what you were asking?” He giggled. “Silly me! Yes, it must be coming from your apartment, mustn’t it? Did you leave the water in your bathtub running?”
    â€œNo.” Betsy thought. “And I didn’t leave the water in the kitchen running, either.” She thought some more, trying to picture various possibilities and a cure for each. She