Night of the Living Thread (A Threadville Mystery) by Janet Bolin Read Free Book Online Page B

toward her.
    Isis stomped out of the workroom and into the garage. “You’re a fake,” she called over her shoulder. “You’re all fakes and copycats. Don’t underestimate what I can do to all of you.”
    Dare Drayton called after her, “Be careful, or I’ll kill you in my next book!”
    But she must have kept going. I heard her sandals patter past the fire trucks.
    A strangely rueful look on his face, Clay came over to me and murmured, “Is the skirt ready? My cousin came to help roll it to the park.”
    I stepped closer to him so I could whisper, “Your cousin? Floyd the zombie?”
    His teasing smile was almost enough to melt me. “I don’t know if I’m related to any zombies. Come meet Dare.” One hand on my elbow, he guided me to Dare Drayton and introduced us.
    I stammered something vaguely friendly. The appropriate thing to say might have been, “I love your books.” But I couldn’t—I hadn’t read even part of one.
    Dare looked past me. “What
is
that monstrosity?” He turned to Clay. “Is that the thing I’m supposed to help move?”
    Someone had unplugged the skirt, so it was no longer merrily flashing lights, but it was still a glaring white. Opal and Naomi crawled around it, weaving glow-in-the-dark thread through the lace and frills on the gown.
    The warmth left Clay’s face. “You don’t have to help,” he told Dare.
    “How reassuring. I’ll go see what other excitement your little world has to offer. See you at your
truck
.” The way he emphasized “truck” made it obvious that he thought riding in a pickup truck was beneath him. “I knew I should have driven over here from your place.” Heels hitting the concrete floor, he strode out.
    “Sorry about that,” Clay said.
    “Your place,” I repeated. “Is he staying with you?”
    “Yes. My mom said I had to put up with him. She and his mother are cousins, and have always spent lots of time together. My mother always drummed into me that I have to be nice to Dare because he had a difficult childhood. My childhood was difficult, too, when
he
visited us, which wasn’t every day, or I’d be a
fiend
.” His grin was anything but scary. “So now, I not only have to put up with him, I have to put him up while he does research for his next book,
Terror on Lake Erie
, or something like that.”
    I laughed. “Our mothers must be alike. Wait until you meet the person my mom foisted on me.”
    “Someone’s staying with you, too?”
    “Brianna. She was here in the fire station, but she left.”
    “The scared one in the glasses? Supposedly writing
The Book of the Treadle
?”
    I glanced around the room. Patricia was gone, too. “No, that was Patricia, Opal’s guest.”
    I didn’t see Patricia out in the garage, but Juliette’s bright skirt, presumably with her still inside it, swished past a tanker truck and disappeared toward the street.
    Apparently, none of our houseguests were eager to push a bright white hoopskirt through the streets of Threadville. Or maybe the women were chasing Dare Drayton for autographs. Or they wanted to talk to Floyd the zombie. He was gone, too.
    I answered Clay’s question. “Brianna is the petite blonde. She threatened to write
The Book of the Thread
.”
    Clay frowned. “That girl is staying with you?” He put both hands on my shoulders. “I caught her giving you a nasty look, as if she didn’t like you.” He squeezed my shoulders. “Hard to believe.”
    “She’s young.”
    “I didn’t like the way she looked at you.” His concern nearly unhinged me.
    I tilted my face up toward his. “Was it worse than the way Dare talks to you?”
    “Dare has always been like that. Do you think they really are writing all those books?”
    “Not Brianna,” I guessed. “And I suspect that some of the others were jumping into the fray, also, having fun making Isis angrier.”
    Why? Her original rage had been directed at Dare, though he claimed he’d never heard of her. And Floyd the zombie