Thread End: An Embroidery Mystery by Amanda Lee Read Free Book Online Page B

in the alley behind the shop.”
    “No! Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry. How are you?”
    “I’m fine. . . . Really, I am . . . at least, as fine as can be expected,” I said. “I mean, I am sad for the man who was killed and for his family, if he had any. . . .” I blew out a breath. “But why did he have to be dumped behind the Seven-Year Stitch?”
    “I’m sorry,” Mom repeated. “What is up with that place? It seems that sleepy little town of yours has more crime than all of San Francisco—maybe San Francisco and L.A. combined!”
    “I’m sure it only looks that way because Tallulah Falls is so small. Whenever anything happens here, it’s a big deal and everyone knows about it . . . whereas that’s not so much the case in San Fran.”
    “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Still, the number of incidents happening in or near your shop is unusually high. I wonder if you should call an exorcist.”
    I chuckled. She didn’t. “Wait. Are you serious?”
    “No,” she said quickly. “That is, unless you think it might be a good idea. I’m almost positive I have the number of a director who became close friends with a priest after he came and cleansed . . . or blessed . . . or did whatever needed to be done to scare away some evil spirits that were plaguing a movie set.”
    “Huh.” I mulled that over for a moment, trying to picture the scene in my mind. The only thing I could come up with was something like a witch doctor from a Saturday morning cartoon show. I knew exorcists didn’t go around dressed as witch doctors, but I thought the costume would make things more dramatic somehow. It would step it up a notch from the priest all dressed in black with the exception of his white collar.
    “So do you want me to give the director a call?” Mom asked.
    “No.” I shook myself out of my reverie. “I was merely imagining how something like that might work. I’ve been pretty whimsical today.” I told her about the musical number I daydreamed.
    “That sounds positively charming! Maybe you should try your hand at screenwriting, Marcella.”
    “I might . . . one of these days,” I said. “I’d better clear this latest hurdle before I even think about anything else.”
    “My sweet girl . . . you sound so melancholy. Do you need me to come to Tallulah Falls?”
    “No, Mom. I don’t think you’re a hundred percent recovered from your last visit yet.” The last time Mom had visited Tallulah Falls, she’d gotten embroiled in her very own murder mystery. She was even a prime suspect!
    “Nonsense. If you need me, I’ll be on the next plane headed your way.”
    “I know, and I love you for being so supportive. But everything is fine,” I said. “Ted and Manu already have some terrific leads. I’m sure they’ll have the investigation wrapped up in no time.”
    “Okay . . . but if you need me to fly out—”
    “If I do, I’ll let you know.” I paused. “Is it horrible of me to wish the poor man had been found by anyone else and anywhere except behind my shop?”
    “Of course not, darling. That’s only human.” She sighed. “But try to look on the bright side—you could’ve found him outside your
house
.”
    “That’s the best you could do for a bright side?” I asked. “Really?”
    “I didn’t have much to work with,” she said. “Did you know the man . . . the man who was killed?”
    “No, I’d never seen him before.”
    “And you don’t have any idea why he was killed?”
    “Although they haven’t made a positive ID yet, the police believe the man was Professor Geoffrey Vandehey,” I said. “I’m not entirely sure what the motive for his death may have been, but it’s possible it was a heist gone wrong. The professor had confessed to stealing a painting—an early Cézanne—a few years ago.”
    “So you think maybe he was involved in some heist, and then his partners killed him to take his share?” she asked.
    “I believe that’s