A Murderous Yarn by Monica Ferris Read Free Book Online Page A

right to an opinion. I don’t know the rules of that relationship, and I only met John once.”
    “Yes, well, that snotty attitude you saw at your Christmas party—” Shelly assumed a lofty attitude and sniffed lightly. “ ‘How terribly tedious your friends are, Goddy,’ ” she murmured, then grimaced. “That’s John all over. What a jerk!”
    “Yes, but he’s a wealthy jerk. That enables Godwin to work here for very low wages, for which I am very grateful,” said Betsy heartlessly. “So encourage Goddy to kiss and make up, will you?”
    The door went Bing! and they turned to see the subject of their conversation come in. Godwin was a handsome young man of barely medium height, slim and blond, wearing tight jeans, a white linen shirt with no collar, and loafers with no socks. Normally ebullient and witty, he was looking very woebegone at the moment.
    “Hi, Godwin,” said Betsy. “I was afraid we mightnot see you today. I’m so sorry about you and John.”
    At this show of sympathy, tears formed in his sky-blue eyes. “What am I going to do ?”
    Shelly went to him. “You’re going to stay with me until John comes to his senses,” she said, taking him by the arm. “He has to learn that you have feelings, too.” She led him to the library table in the middle of the room, and pulled a chair out for him. “Now sit down for a minute and pull yourself together.”
    “Thank you,” murmured Godwin.
    “Would you like a cup of coffee? Oh! I haven’t made the coffee yet! It’ll just take a minute. You just sit and wait, and think happy thoughts.”
    “All right,” he said, but instead he made a little display of his grief, dropping his head and sighing, touching the end of his nose, then wiping under each eye, and sighing again.
    Betsy said, pulling the vacuum cleaner over by the door, “Are you going to be able to work today?”
    Godwin lifted his head. “Oh, I’ll get through it somehow. After all, now I really need the money.”
    “Shelly says you’re staying with her, and can stay as long as you like. That will help.”
    Godwin smiled sadly. “Shelly is the nicest person in the world. It’s so lovely having someone coo over you and make you little treats and bring hot cocoa to you in bed. Don’t you agree?”
    Betsy laughed. “Ever since I was a little child with measles.”
    Godwin straightened. “Why are you so sure I’m feeling too sorry for myself? John has never gone this far before. My beautiful clothes, all dirty and wrinkled!Does he think I’m going to go crawling back to him after this?”
    “If he threw you out, don’t you have to wait for an invitation before you go crawling back?”
    “Oh,” said Godwin, looking disconcerted. “Well, yes, I suppose I do. Well, say, that puts the ball in his court, doesn’t it? I don’t have to try to think of an excuse to call him, do I? And when he finds out I’ve got a place to stay, he’ll be the one getting anxious. Won’t he?”
    “I sure hope so. But what do I know? What do you think?”
    “I think John plays by his own rules,” said Godwin, dropping again into gloom.
    Shelly came back with a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and Godwin sat sighing over it while Betsy vacuumed and Shelly dusted. Shelly liked to dust; it gave her lots of opportunities to pause and consider a pattern or a new color of wool or floss. She had yet to take home an entire paycheck, spending most of it on things from the shop. Today she picked out a Terrance Nolan butterfly. “I just love his things, but they’re really difficult. I saw you have his kingfishers.”
    Betsy said, “I saw the models at Stitchville USA, and decided to order three kits; they’re gorgeous. And I could sell them if I had a model. Would you be willing, Shelly?”
    “Not me! His bugs are enough for me; those kingfishers are murder! Maybe you should ask the Turbo Stitcher.”
    Bitsy Busby had earned that nickname because she could plow through even a large and complex