A Murder in Mohair by Anne Canadeo Read Free Book Online Page A

,” Suzanne echoed. “It sounds like just what it means.”
    â€œWe could help derail her, Edie. We’d be happy to try.” Dana put a second to the offer. “What will you do then? Tell Nora?”
    Edie’s wrinkled face puckered; it appeared she hadn’t worked out this part of her plan yet.
    â€œI’m not sure. Maybe I can just persuade the woman to leave Nora alone and my niece may never have to know she’d been bamboozled.” She looked back at Lucy. “Let me have my session. I’ll figure it out from there.”
    â€œFair enough,” Lucy replied. “In the meantime, if spirits want to get in touch with me that badly, they’ll find a way, right?”
    â€œVery true,” Dana said. “As Emerson said, ‘Heed the still, small voice inside of you. It rarely leads you astray.’ ”
    Edie considered the words with a thoughtful expression.
    â€œThat’s a good one. I like it. See you, ladies . . . and don’t worry about the check, it’s on me.”
    Before anyone could protest, Edie slipped the check off the table and stuffed it in her pocket. Certainly the first time that had ever happened to Lucy while dining at the Schooner. Edie obviously appreciated their offer to help her unmask Cassandra Waters, a strange but interesting assignment.

Chapter Three
    A fter hobbling painfully into the shower and then downstairs for a breakfast of coffee and ibuprofen, Lucy realized she’d done enough bike riding over the weekend—more than enough, probably. She downed more coffee and decided to walk her dogs into town. To get the kinks out.
    The trio soon arrived at the knitting shop. Maggie was outside, watering the abundant flower beds that bordered the picket fence and both sides of the path—petunias, snapdragons, swaying blue statice, pink echinacea, black-eyed Susan, and other colorful blossoms. Rosebushes and heavy-headed hydrangeas. She definitely had a green thumb, along with her other, crafty fingers.
    â€œHey, how are you doing? Hard at work already, I see.”
    Maggie turned and smiled, gently patting the dogs and pushing aside their licks of greeting until Lucy pulled them back.
    â€œJust wanted to poke around out here before it got too hot. I should have weeded a bit this weekend,” Maggie said.
    â€œThe price we pay for having too much fun. Rarely your problem. I think sailing agrees with you.”
    Maggie’s cheeks were touched with color; her short curly hair looked beachy and windblown. She looked happy, too, Lucy thought.
    â€œWe did have a nice time. I’ve forgotten how relaxing being out on the water can be. My father had a boat and he taught us all to sail, but Bill never really liked it. He was more of a tennis or golf type,” she explained, talking about her late husband. “Charles has a beautiful cruiser, thirty-one feet,” she added. “We sailed up to Newburyport and back. It was a lovely day.”
    â€œSounds great. You did miss breakfast at the Schooner yesterday. Dana and I met up with Suzanne . . . and Edie picked up our check.”
    â€œThat is a notable event.” Maggie laughed as she stood up and pulled off her gloves. “I guess Dana gave a full report about the investigation of Jimmy’s death?”
    â€œJack hasn’t heard that much. Only that there were no signs of a break-in or struggle, so the police think Jimmy knew the person who attacked him. The big news is that Jimmy had a criminal record and served a long prison sentence. I don’t know about you, but I was really surprised to hear that,” Lucy said honestly.
    â€œMe, too. You never know, I guess. What did he go to jail for?” Maggie asked curiously.
    â€œDana didn’t know. But she did say the police think his death might be related to something in his past, some connection with criminal associates.”
    â€œYes, that makes sense.