Better Off Thread (Embroidery Mystery, Band 10) - Softcover

Buch 10 von 10: Embroidery Mystery

Lee, Amanda

 
9780451473851: Better Off Thread (Embroidery Mystery, Band 10)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 045147385X ISBN 13: 9780451473851
Verlag: Berkley, 2016

Inhaltsangabe

Santa finds himself in a stitch of trouble in the tenth in the series from the national bestselling author of The Stitching Hour...
 
Marcy is busy helping her customers make hand-crafted ornaments at her embroidery shop, the Seven-Year Stitch. But despite the yuletide bustle, when her friend Captain Moe asks for her help, she can’t refuse—especially when the favor is to play the elf to his Santa for sick children at a local hospital. Despite the ridiculous outfit, Marcy finds herself enjoying spreading cheer—until the hospital’s administrator is found murdered.
 
Although the deceased had plenty of people willing to fill her stocking with coal, evidence pins the crime on Moe. Now it’s up to Marcy, with the help of her police officer boyfriend Ted and her Irish Wolfhound Angus, to stitch together the clues to clear Moe’s name—before someone else winds up crossed off Santa’s list for good...

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Amanda Lee is the national bestselling author of the Embroidery Mysteries, including The Stitching Hour, Wicked Stitch, and Thread End.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Chapter One

I locked the door to the Seven-Year Stitch, my embroidery specialty shop, walked over to the sit-and-stitch square, and slumped onto the sofa facing away from the window. My gray Irish wolfhound, Angus, flopped onto the floor beside me and heaved a sigh.

"What a day, huh, Angus?" I looked over at our mannequin, Jill-who normally resembles Marilyn Monroe-and noticed that her wig was now sideways and covering her entire face. I laughed. "I think Jill has had an even rougher day than we have."

Black Friday. Although the other merchants in Tallulah Falls and I couldn't offer the deep discounts provided by the large chain stores, we'd all done something to try to sway customers to shop with us today. My friends Blake and Sadie MacKenzie of MacKenzies' Mochas had offered customers free coffee with the purchase of a pastry. Todd Calloway of the Brew Crew had forgone giving out free beer and had instead provided shoppers with bottles of water and a place to leave their bags so they wouldn't have too much to carry as they wandered from shop to shop.

I'd brought in a toaster oven this morning and had provided patrons with freshly baked cookies and a twenty-five percent discount off their total purchases. I'd expected an upsurge in traffic, but I hadn't been prepared for the amount of business I'd received today. I'd been open last year on Black Friday, but the Seven-Year Stitch had been in business but a few weeks then, and although business had been good, I don't think people were as aware of the shop as they were now. Plus, I was getting better at the promotional side of things. I'd been closed for the past few days, but for two weeks prior to that, I'd been putting flyers in everyone's bags advertising the Thanksgiving celebration.

I pushed myself off the sofa and went over to adjust Jill's wig. I smoothed it down and then straightened her apron. I typically dressed Jill to coincide with the season. With the Thanksgiving holiday upon us, I'd dressed her in a 1950s-style A-line dress-complete with crinoline-and a ruffled apron. She looked darling . . . or, well, she did after I fixed her wig.

I looked around the rest of the shop. Beyond Jill and the checkout counter to the left were bins of floss and yarn. Maple racks containing pattern books, needles, hoops, crochet hooks, and other needlecraft supplies filled the rest of the left side of the shop. To the right of the counter was the sit-and-stitch square. Two navy sofas faced each other and were separated by an oval maple coffee table atop a red-and-blue braided rug. Red club chairs and matching ottomans rounded out the seating area, where patrons were invited to-you guessed it-sit and stitch.

On the walls and atop the maple racks were embroidery projects I'd completed, as well as dolls whose outfits I'd made or embellished with embroidery. Candlewicked pillows usually adorned the sofas in the sit-and-stitch square, but I'd placed them in the office today. I'd been afraid that children with chocolaty fingers and faces would latch onto the white pillows. That was something I hadn't originally considered when I'd decided to offer cookies to the Stitch patrons.

Deciding that putting the pillows back in place was the next-easiest thing to do-after making Jill presentable again-I retrieved the pillows, fluffed them, and placed them on the sofa. With my hands on my hips, I surveyed the rest of the shop. I needed to straighten the floss bins, restock the yarn, vacuum, dust the shelves, clean the glass. . . . But I was so tired.

"We'll get here early and tidy up in the morning, Angus," I said. "Let's go home, buddy."

He leapt to his feet, apparently as delighted by the prospect of going home as I was.

When we got to our white, two-story home and saw Ted's car in the driveway, my heart lifted even more. I'm pretty sure Angus felt the same way. Ted was the most wonderful man in the whole wide world, and he was mine. Well, Angus would say he was ours.

Ted opened the door as Angus and I got to the porch. He was wearing a black apron emblazoned with Kiss the Cook. Being a stickler for following rules, I did as instructed . . . several times, in fact.

The house smelled wonderful. I closed my eyes and took in the blend of scents: oregano, beef, sausage, basil, tomato sauce, garlic.

"Did you make lasagna?" I asked.

He smiled. "I did. I'm tired of turkey, and I guessed you and Angus are, too."

"You're absolutely right."

We'd had a whirlwind week. Last Saturday after work, I'd closed up the Stitch and Ted, Angus, and I had flown to San Francisco. Mom had insisted on our bringing Angus, and she'd even made the necessary travel arrangements. I was glad. I hadn't wanted to spend four days away from him.

Ted and I had stayed with Mom. On Sunday, she'd had a delicious Thanksgiving meal catered for us. Alfred Benton, Mom's longtime lawyer and recent boyfriend, joined us. He always joined us for holiday celebrations-he'd been a surrogate dad to me ever since my own father had died when I was a toddler-but this time it was more special. It was apparent that he and Mom were in love. And since I'd left San Francisco last year to open my shop in Tallulah Falls, it was great to see her with someone-especially someone she loved and who obviously made her feel so loved. I just couldn't figure out what had taken them so long.

We'd flown back from San Fran on Wednesday morning, and we'd had dinner with Ted's mom yesterday. I'd been nervous about spending Thanksgiving Day with Ted's family. Not only was his mom there, but his sister and her family were there as well. Tiffany was married and had a two-year-old son.

Ted's sister was two years younger than he. Like Ted and his mother, she had those striking blue eyes. But there the resemblance ended. I imagined Tiffany must've taken after her father. She had chestnut brown hair with honey highlights, and she was only about three inches taller than me. Ted was around six-feet-one or two, and I was five-foot-nothing if I stretched out my spine and held my head high. And Ted's hair was black with flecks of premature gray.

I ran my hands through his hair as I stood there looking up at him. "I'm so glad to finally have you to myself. Not that I haven't enjoyed spending time with Mom and Alfred and your mom and meeting Tiffany and her family, it's just . . ."

"I know, Marcy." He lowered his mouth to mine. "I've missed being alone with you, too."

After dinner, we went into my all-white living room. Some people probably thought I was crazy for having a white sofa and chair and a huge, wiry gray dog that shed pretty regularly. But I found the color peaceful, and regular vacuuming and lint brushing took care of any wayward hair.

After dinner, Angus went out to the backyard to play. Ted and I cuddled up on the large overstuffed sofa. He kissed the top of my head.

"Thank you for making dinner," I said.

"You're welcome. I knew you'd be exhausted when you got here. How'd the cookies go over?"

"Really well. People were delighted with them."

"I was half-afraid you'd get busy and burn a batch and the whole shop would smell like smoke for a week."

I gaped at him. "Gee, thanks!"

He chuckled. "I didn't mean it that way. I just thought about you being there by yourself, trying to manage all the customers and bake cookies at the same time. Since I had to work only half a day, I started to come by. But I figured you probably had things under control and that you'd rather have dinner waiting for you than a guy who knows very little about embroidery helping out at the Stitch."

I smiled. "Well, you were right." I snuggled against him, wrapping one arm around his waist. "Although I wouldn't have minded your stopping by."

"I know. How did you manage, anyway?"

"I had most of the...

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Verlag
Berkley
Erscheinungsdatum
2016
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
045147385X
ISBN 13 
9780451473851
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
304
Kontakt zum Hersteller
BERKLEY
https://www.penguin.com/?s=BERKLEY

Unit 2 Limavady Business Park
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County Londonderry
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