Free A Grid For Murder by Casey Mayes Page B

you don’t mind, I need some time to be alone.” He got up and walked us out of the barbershop. As we left, I watched him through the glass door as he snapped the locks shut and flipped the “open” sign to “closed.” An instant later, the red-and-white-striped electric barber pole went dark, and the sign stopped turning. It was clear that Greg was done, at least for the moment.
    “At least we cleared one thing up,” Rob said. “Greg didn’t know about what happened to Joanne.”
    “It appears that way,” I answered.
    He looked at me with surprise. “Do you honestly think that he was acting just now?”
    I thought about it, and wasn’t sure how to answer truthfully. “I don’t know. There was something about that entire conversation that seemed, well,
rehearsed
is the best word I can come up with.”
    Rob clearly didn’t buy it for a second. “Don’t forget, the travel time between here and Asheville alone would be enough to clear him.”
    I shrugged. “I considered that, but it’s all predicated on him leaving exactly at eleven, and getting back here at noon on the dot. If he left ten minutes early and got back ten minutes late, he could have poisoned her and no one would know he’d ever left town.”
    “So he stays on our list until we can prove otherwise,” Rob said.
    “I think so. At least for now.” Another name had popped up that intrigued me. “Can we tackle Hannah Reed now?”
    “I guess so,” he said a little reluctantly. “Are you sure there isn’t someplace else you need to be?”
    “Zach’s probably still in Asheville,” I said. “And even if he’s back in town, he’s not going to want me tagging along as he helps interview suspects.”
    Rob grinned. “Then it’s a good thing he doesn’t know about Hannah yet, isn’t it?”
    “That’s another reason we should speak with her now. If we interview her before Zach hears her name in connection with the case, he can’t complain about me interfering.” As I said it, I knew how ridiculous that statement was on the face of it. Even though Zach and I were on the same side, it didn’t mean we always saw eye to eye on the right way to investigate a crime. He liked the slow and methodical approach, weighing and analyzing clues, and moving toward an inescapable conclusion. I, on the other hand, loved stirring the pot every chance I got to see who boiled over first. It was a little more dangerous than my husband’s approach, especially when I wasn’t armed with much more than the pepper spray in my purse, but it was tough to argue with the results when I made things happen.
    W E GOT TO HANNAH REED’S CRAFT CORNER JUST AS she was closing the register in her shop for the night. Hannah ran a small business that specialized in all kinds of crafting supplies. Between the yarn, colored thread, candle molds, cardmaking supplies, and soapmaking kits, she had something for just about anyone who wanted to work with their hands. I loved to give homemade soap to some of my friends at Christmas, and Hannah’s shop was the only place I trusted to buy my supplies. The woman was amazing, mastering every craft her storerepresented, until she could do just about anything there was to do in the crafting world. I couldn’t imagine under any circumstances that she could be a murderer, but if living with Zach all these years had taught me anything, it was that you can’t tell a killer by looking at them.
    “It’s not Christmas, Savannah,” she said as Rob and I walked in. “Have you finally decided to branch out into candles?”
    “Not yet,” I said, “but soon.”
    She nodded, and then turned to Rob. “Robert, I don’t believe that you’ve set foot in this store since I opened it. I have a feeling you two aren’t here for supplies or tips, are you?”
    “Hannah, I was wondering if we could have a word with you,” Rob said. As long as I’d lived in Parson’s Valley, I’d never heard Rob called “Robert” by anyone, and I wondered