Craft Circle Cozy Mystery Boxed Set Read online

  The officer was cute. Far too young for me—probably, who can really judge these things—but cute.

  "Sorry, miss," he said. I was pleased to hear 'miss' instead of 'ma'am.' He gave me an apologetic smile. "You can't really be here."

  "I was her friend," I said quickly, shooting him my best smile. "I'd just like to know what happened. Please."

  He looked at me skeptically, but there was a little twinkle in his eyes as he spoke. "Her friend?" he asked. "Really? Because I thought I knew everyone who lived in Pottsville, and I’ve never seen you around her, miss."

  Again with the ‘miss.’

  "I'm new to the area," I said calmly. "Amanda and I hit it off, though. We'd become friends in a short period of time."

  He seemed more interested in speaking to me now as he moved closer. "Well then, maybe you won't mind answering a few questions."

  I suddenly felt as though I was under interrogation, but I tried to stay calm. He was just a local policeman, not the FBI. Plus, I'd faced worse than him in my travels. "Why don't you tell me what your name is first, Officer?" I asked, flashing him a bright smile.

  "Officer Mathews," he said.

  "Your first name."

  "Ryan Mathews."

  "Great. And may I call you Ryan, then?"

  He looked a little taken aback by the request. "I suppose that's fine, miss." He got a notebook and pen out and tried to concentrate on what was in front of him.

  "So you said you and Amanda had become friends?"

  "Yes. Very good friends."

  "And had she been acting strange lately?"

  Well...I'd only met her the one time. I furrowed my brow as though I was really thinking about it. "Er, not that I really noticed."

  "You were friends, though?" He was still skeptical.

  "Yes, of course we were."

  "She hadn't been acting depressed, hadn't seem down at all?"

  Well, she'd been desperate enough to turn up to my craft circle of misfits and weirdos. Was that really something I should say, though?

  I shook my head. "No, she didn't seem down at all." She'd been anything but down the night of the craft circle. She'd been bright, bubbly, and full of life. And now she was so not full of life. I leaned over a bit so I could peer around his shoulder. "Can I just go into the cottage for a second?"

  "No," he said firmly, looking astonished that I'd even asked. "That's where the body is."

  "Oh dear," I said, making a face. "Just lying there, is it?" I was still trying to catch a glimpse in through the door. Ryan stepped in front of me, blocking my view entirely. Darn.

  "Bit strange that they've sent you, isn't it?" I asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, a uniformed officer, to the site of a murder," I said, trying to act natural. "Would have thought they'd send in the detectives."

  "Murder? Who said anything about a murder?" Ryan looked shocked. "Amanda—Miss Jennings—simply fell."

  I raised my eyebrows. "Fell?"

  "Fell and hit her head," he said plainly, before snapping his notepad shut. "Can I give you a ride somewhere, miss?"

  I glanced down at Jasper. "Are dogs allowed? In your police car, I mean."

  He shot me a little smile. "I'll make an exception this time."

  "Great," I said with a grin. "You can take me to work, then. I own the new craft shop in town."

  Ryan stopped the car right in the front of the craft store. The ride had been too short. I needed to spend more time with him. So I could figure out what really happened to Amanda, of course.

  "Come on, Jasper," I said, calling him out of the car.

  Ryan climbed out as well. "I'll walk you to the door," he said.

  "Oh!" I said, hitting my forehead with my palm like I'd just remembered something. "I just realized I need to go to the supermarket."

  He glanced back at the car, a little unsure. "Do you want me to give you a ride?"

  I shook my head. "It's just down here," I said, pointing down the road. "Can you walk me though? I'm feeling a little shaken after the death of a good friend."

  He shook his head slowly, but there was the hint of a smile on his face. "Come on then," he said, getting his notebook out of his pocket again. "I'll go over my notes again. Maybe you'll even remember something this time."

  I grinned and pulled on Jasper's leash, but I made sure not to walk too quickly. "Do you really think she just fell?" I asked Ryan.

  Ryan flipped his notepad shut. "Yeah, I do," he said with a drawl. He had sort of a southern accent, but clearly he hadn't lived there for a while. "She was found at the bottom of the staircase. Seems pretty obvious what happened."

  "Hmmm," I said, deep in thought as I wondered if that really was so obvious. Or was he just leaping to conclusions?

  "What's the hmmm for?" Ryan asked, mimicking me a bit. "There's no 'hmmm' about it."

  "Just wondering..."

  "Wondering about what? There’s nothing to wonder about."

  I stopped walking and turned to him. "How does it happen?" I asked. "How does a woman just die like that, in her own home?" I started walking again. "Without anyone even knowing about it for days."

  Ryan shrugged. "She was single, in her forties, lived alone, owned a dog..."

  "Hey!" I said, taking a little offense. "You're pretty much describing me you know." I raised my eyebrows at him and shot him a little wink to know that he hadn't wounded my pride fatally. It was just a little injured.

  He made a face. He looked a little surprised, or maybe that was just in my head. "I didn't know you were in your forties. Had you pegged as much younger."

  "You don't need to flatter me," I said, noticing that there was more of a spring in my step now as I bounced along beside him. How old was he? Geez, to look at him, you'd think he couldn't be much older than twenty-five. But I was terrible at guessing the ages of people, especially those younger than me. He could be older. Did I hope he was older? I didn't want to ask in case he took it for flirting. Which, of course, it would have been.

  "Still," he said with a little shrug. "You look younger. Act like it as well."

  That was true enough, I supposed. "I've never been the settle down and get married type," I said breezily. "Well, that's wrong. I have been married, three times, actually." I caught the look of surprise on his face that he quickly tried to hide. "So I suppose I am the marrying type! Just not the settling down type."

  We'd arrived at our destination. The small supermarket gleamed in front of me.

  "I guess this is goodbye, for now!" I said with a wink.

  "Bye, Georgina," he said. He started to walk away, but stopped and added something over his shoulder. "And don't go worrying yourself, all right? It was just an accident."

  I nodded and watched him walk away. "Come on, Jasper," I said, pulling him back in the opposite direction. I didn't really need to go to the store.

  All day, I thought about it. "It was just an accident." I tried to go back to work, tried to focus on my shop. Still, I was a little rattled by what Ryan had said earlier. About the victim—Amanda. I had to keep reminding myself that she was a person, and for a brief moment my friend—fitting a certain profile. The very same profile I had.

  We were similar. Too similar. A shiver ran down my spine and I tried to shake it off.

  By the time I got home, it was dark, and I felt even more unsettled. The sight of unpacked boxes everywhere didn't exactly help that feeling.

  "You'll protect me, right, Jasper?" I said, taking a heavy sip of wine while I petted him with my other hand. "You won't let that happen to me, right, boy?"

  He made a little whimpering noise and bounced up and down. He wanted a treat. I reached into one of the boxes that I had cut open and produced a doggie biscuit.

  Something didn't feel right. Maybe it was just the wine talking. Maybe it was the new, strange environment I was in. But I just couldn't shake the feeling that Amanda's death was not an accident.

  I'd always trusted my gut. I'd alwa
ys trusted my feelings. Sure, they'd gotten me into trouble plenty of times before, but they'd almost always been right.

  I didn't believe that Amanda's death had been a simple fall. I had a bad, strange feeling that there was someone out there somewhere who'd targeted a woman just like Amanda.

  A woman just like me.

  I knew I shouldn't really be there. Okay, no 'shouldn't really' about it—I definitely wasn't supposed to be snooping around a crime scene. And Jasper was hardly making me look less conspicuous. It was dark, but he had a way of garnering attention. I just hoped he wouldn't bark.

  He was sniffing around Amanda's rose bushes. "Don't!" I scolded him. "Sit. Be a good boy." I tried to keep my voice low as I peered in through the front window.

  Ryan might be cute and charming enough, but these local cops hardly seemed like the sharpest tools in the shed. I was worried they'd jumped to conclusions too quickly, seen an accident where something more sinister was at play.

  If they caught me snooping, I'd just tell them that Jasper had pulled me in this direction. "He has a mind of his own, I can't control him!" I'd say with a laugh. Didn't make me sound like the best dog owner, but I wasn't the one who had raised him after all, was I? He was badly trained due to someone else's bad raising of him.

  Too late I saw that Jasper had ignored my instructions and was digging through Amanda's rose garden. Not just digging, destroying.

  "Stop digging! Jasper!" I called. "Naughty dog." I tried to chastise him, but it came out like I was praising him and he started waggling his tail even harder, thinking he was about to get a treat! I had trouble being firm enough with him.

  I shook my head and placed my hands on my hips. "Jasper, there's no treat, okay? You've been a naughty boy." I looked at the ruined rose garden in dismay. I supposed there would be no one around to care about it now, but it still didn't seen right. I knew that Amanda took pride in her rose bushes. I should have been looking after them for her now that she was gone, not responsible for their ruin.

  "Jasper, stop!" I said again, but he was digging like crazy.

  He was sniffing wildly and began to bark at me, trying to get my attention. There was something in his mouth.

  "What is it, boy?" I asked, leaning down to see what was in his teeth. "What have you got there?"

  I pulled it out of his mouth. A note. Covered in mud.

  Chapter 3

  "What was that?" I spun around and saw lights flashing in my eyes. Police lights? I ducked and covered my eyes, blinking rapidly due to the fact that I'd almost been blinded. "Jasper, come here," I said, pulling his leash so that he couldn't get away and cause more havoc. He put one of his muddy paws up on my knee. Great. I was wearing white jeans of course. "Thank you very much," I whispered.

  I squinted to try and see what the lights were. There was a long stream of light, moving erratically from place to place. Not from a cop car, I realized. From a flashlight. There was someone creeping around on the other side of the road. Were they looking for me? At me? Or did I just get caught in the cross hairs?

  "We’ve got to get out of here, Jasper," I said, shoving the note in my pocket and trying not to think about how muddy it was on the inside of my white coat. What a night to be wearing all white. I crept down on my hands and knees, crawling in a way that I hadn't done since I was a toddler.

  I tried to stay close to the cottage, begging Jasper to stay quiet while I crept away, hoping that the flashlight wouldn't shine its deadly light on me again. I wasn’t even sure what the punishment was for snooping around a crime scene. Was that what it was? A crime scene?

  Once I was sure we were in the clear, I stood abruptly and started to jog. "Come on, Jasper, it's time for your exercise. You like going for a run, don't you, boy?"

  The flashlight suddenly turned off and just before I ran, I caught a glimpse of the face that had been holding it.

  Brenda.

  I shook my head and ran off, Jasper in tow. I should have guessed.

  Rain started to fall right before we reached the house, causing Jasper to coat the floorboards with yet another layer of mud. I shook my head. "Remind me to buy a mop next time we’re at the store," I said, hanging up my coat.

  I sighed and walked over to him, but he was barking and nodding in the direction of my coat. I turned around, confused. "You want to go back outside?" I asked, thinking that was what his interest in my coat was. "We can't go back out. It's raining. Plus, it's dark." And suddenly, Pottsville wasn't the quiet, safe, town I'd thought it was when I arrived.

  But Jasper kept barking at the coat. "What? Oh, right! The note!" I exclaimed, slapping my forehead. Sometimes, I can be really absent-minded. "Luckily, I have you around to keep me in check," I said to Jasper, before digging into my pocket.

  The note was soggy as well as muddy, and folded, roughly, into fours. I pulled it open carefully, trying not to rip it as the page stuck to itself.

  "Darn," I said, sighing as I tried to make it out. "The ink is running."

  Jasper, of course, was no help in that regard. If I had a dog that could read, I'd pack up the craft business and retire to be a millionaire.

  I straightened the note and placed it under a lamp so I could make out the writing better. I gasped. "No, that can't be right!"

  Jasper's tail wagged a little. He was interested now.

  I gulped. The note was addressed to...me.

  "Dear George..." it read in smudged letters at the top. "At least, I'm pretty sure that's my name," I said, squinting a little. I tried to read the rest of the note, but it was so smudged that I could only make out a few random words throughout. "Don't. Careful. Watch."

  I shook my head and took a few breaths. Why did Amanda write me a note when she knew we were meeting later that week? Was she intending to send it to me? Deliver it in person?

  And most importantly, what the heck was she actually trying to tell me? Was she trying to warn me about something?

  About someone?

  I blinked a few times, looking at the note. Was this evidence? Should I have been turning it over to the cops?

  "What do you think?" I asked Jasper. "After all, the note was addressed to me. Amanda wanted me to have it, right?"

  He gave me a look that said 'don't ask me, lady, I don't want to wind up in jail.'

  "It's okay for you, dogs don't go to jail," I said, scratching my chin as I looked at the note.

  "It's probably nothing. Probably nothing important to the case, anyway." Uh-oh, I just realized I'd referred to this—whatever this was—as a 'case.' Had I been reading too many detective novels? Or was there really something more sinister going on here?

  I also realized that I'd already decided, for better or worse, that I was keeping the note.

  "No," I said, looking to Jasper for support in this little crime of my own. "I think this is a note best kept to myself. For the time being, at least. Maybe when it dries, I'll be able to make out the writing better." I shrugged, picking it up carefully. "Or find some kind of expert in reading smudged writing. There's enough eccentrics in this town—you never know!"

  I pegged it to a flower pot on the windowsill and opened the window just an inch so that it would dry before I hid it away later. I shivered. Not a great night for an open window.

  "Now don't go touching that," I warned Jasper. "And no more getting into trouble tonight, either. I think it's time we both got some sleep. I do have a store to run, you know."

  But the next morning, I decided that opening the store was going to wait. I checked my large, loud, bright red clock. Hmm, 9:30. I'd missed opening time already by half an hour. What would another half-hour matter? Besides, if you can't keep a relaxed, sleeping schedule in a town like Pottsville, where can you keep one.

  Jasper seemed to be pulling me in the direction of the store, but I led him in the opposite direction. The way that just happened to lead to the Pottsville Police Station. On the other side of the street, though. I was trying not to be too obvious. If I saw someone, or didn
't see someone, that would just be a coincidence.

  I needed to sniff out some more information. I was going to have to make this look as casual as possible to not raise suspicion.

  As soon as we reached the location opposite the police station, I slowed a little, letting Jasper know to slow as well, though he still tugged on his leash. There was a uniformed officer just exiting the station, about to walk to his car.

  Ryan! I fluffed my hair up a bit and glanced at myself in the reflection of a shop window before I hurried across the street, Jasper in tow.

  "What a surprise to see you here." I flashed him my best smile.

  "Well, you know, small town," he said good-naturedly. Then, he added, a teeny bit more sarcastically, "Plus, this is right outside where I work."

  "Oh, I was just walking past," I said breezily as I followed him to his car. Then I decided to go for a slightly different tactic. "Though, maybe my coming across the station wasn't a total accident."

  He paused with his car keys in hand. "No?" he asked in surprise.

  I shook my head. "Maybe subconsciously I was feeling like I needed the protection." I let out a heavy sigh as Ryan straightened up.

  "I hope everything is okay." His face creased in genuine concern. He cleared his throat. "Here, let me walk you back to your store, then."

  "Thank you, Ryan." I then put on my best damsel in distress act. "I suppose I just feel a bit scared, you know, all alone in that house of mine, after what happened." I pouted a little. "I mean, I do have Jasper, but he's just a sweet little puppy, he wouldn't harm a fly."

  "Mmm-hmm," Ryan said, glancing down at Jasper's dirty mouth and paws.

  "Rose garden," I explained. "He can't get enough of them."

  Ryan looked at me a little more seriously this time. "I can't say I blame you, actually. Especially considering the house you live in." He turned and started to walk slowly. "I mean, not that I believe in ghosts or anything like that."

  Uh...what? I shot a look at Jasper as we both started walking to catch up to him. "Ghosts? Huh? I'm sorry, Ryan, I think you might have lost me there at some point."