While My Pretty One Knits (13 page)

Phoebe drew closer. She wanted all the details, Lucy could tell. “So? What’s he like? Did he ask you out yet?”

“Oh…it’s just a lot of…meaningful looks so far. Or maybe they’re actually meaningless looks and I’m reading into all this stuff?” she amended. “I don’t even know if he’s single.”

“Ever think of asking him?” Phoebe suggested.

“What fun would that be? He doesn’t wear a ring,” she added as a hopeful note.

Maggie met her gaze. She knew what she was thinking—that didn’t mean anything. “How old is he?”

“Oh, in his midthirties. Around my age.”

“Why don’t you just ask him out? Next time you see him, just do it,” Phoebe encouraged her. “You’ll find out pretty fast if he’s interested in you.”

Lucy didn’t answer right away.

“I guess I could,” she finally said.

Lucy glanced at Maggie, expecting some backup. But Maggie just cast her a wistful smile.

Lucy noticed Maggie wasn’t offering any advice or strategy. Maggie did date from time to time, but it was usually some man she met totally by chance, who liked her more than she liked him. And it never went very far.

She seemed pretty content without a long-term relationship. Bill had been the love of her life and Lucy knew Maggie didn’t expect to meet anyone again who would come close to replacing him.

Lucy sighed. “It’s just a real change to meet someone really attractive who I actually like. It’s nice to feel some…connection, you know? I don’t know that anything is going to happen, though.”

Phoebe gave her a blank stare. “Get a grip, Lucy. That is such a defeatist attitude.”

Maggie turned to Phoebe. “Lucy knows what to do. I think she can figure it out.”

Phoebe didn’t say anything for a moment. “Sorry to be so annoying. I had to ask Josh out the first time. He would have never made a move on me otherwise. He said I intimidated him, can you believe that?”

Lucy and Maggie glanced at each other. Lucy didn’t say anything.

“Men are like timid woodland creatures, Lucy,” Phoebe told her. “Live large, okay? Take no prisoners.”

“Uh, okay.” Lucy smiled at Phoebe, who she knew meant well. But life had seemed simple to her, too, when she was Phoebe’s age. Oh, to be so young and bold, so sure of yourself. Hanging out in bars and listening to bad music. Writing papers about Kant.

Phoebe fluffed her hair. “Time to tart myself up. Later, guys.”

Once Phoebe left, Maggie pushed a box aside with her foot. “Enough talk about men. How’s your knitting going? How are those hats coming along?”

“I’m getting there.” Lucy had made some progress last night at Suzanne’s. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” Lucy sat down and pulled out a manila envelope from her big purse. “The photos from the book signing. I printed them out today. And here’s your camera back.”

“Oh…thank you.” Maggie quickly pulled open the envelope and sat down to go through the pictures. “Some of these aren’t bad, considering I was so rattled after the news about Amanda. My hands were shaking so much I’m surprised everything isn’t a big blur.” She looked through a few more and started to separate out the ones she liked. “Guess I’ll hang some on the bulletin board…and send a few to Cara.”

“How is she doing? Is she out on the book tour?”

“I really don’t know. I haven’t heard from her. I don’t think the book tour has started yet. She’s probably still in Boston. She’s really a very busy girl.”

So I’ve heard, Lucy wanted to say. The Knit-Purl Princess couldn’t be bothered to give Maggie a call after the book signing. But she caught herself just in time. It had only been a week ago. That wasn’t very long.

“I found a few pictures of the flowers on Cara’s jacket and enlarged them for Dana,” Lucy told Maggie.

Lucy opened her purse and pulled out another envelope, filled with shots showing the felted flowers. She’d thought the blowups should definitely help Dana figure out the pattern.

“Dana is coming for the class. She should be here any minute. I found the yarn she needs. It’s in one of these boxes. I forgot which…” Maggie jumped up and started poking through the boxes again.

Lucy wrote Dana’s name on the envelope and left it in the middle of the tea table. Then she stood up and slipped on her jacket.

“You’re not staying?” Maggie asked. She stood up, two dark red skeins of fine-gauge wool in her hands.

“I’ll pass, thanks. I have enough trouble working with one strand. I don’t want to be traumatized.”

“You never know. My mother’s very first project was argyle socks. She knit them for my father, before they were married.”

“Premartial socks in that generation? Pretty wild stuff.”

“It was fine. They were engaged by then.” Maggie smiled and winked, not missing a beat.

“Maggie? Are you here?” a voice called from the front of the shop. Lucy and Maggie turned to see Edie Steiber moving as fast as her big body would allow. Dressed in a long lavender down coat and large white sneakers with Velcro tabs, she looked practically pneumatic, Lucy thought. She also looked flushed and out of breath.

“Edie…what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Maggie rushed to the front of the shop to greet her old friend.

Edie nodded but was too winded to speak. She landed squarely on the seat nearest the door, an antique armchair with a carved mahogany frame. Lucy knew it was one of Maggie’s favorites and hoped it held up under Edie’s considerable bulk.

“Did you come for the class? We don’t start until eight,” Maggie told her.

“Didn’t you hear? Someone tried to break into Seabold’s Hardware. Just a little while ago.”

Maggie’s gentle expression grew alarmed. “Oh my goodness. Did they get inside? Was anyone hurt?”

“Nope, luckily. George sometimes stays there alone to check the stock. But he and Fiona were having dinner at their daughter’s house in Gloucester so they left at five on the dot. The break-in happened around six thirty, just after it got dark. The crook was pretty bold, if you ask me. But that end of the street gets quiet once the post office and auto repair place closes.”

Seabold’s Hardware, owned by George Seabold and his wife, Fiona, stood at the end of the street one block in from Main. It was on the same street as the post office and Harbor Auto Repair but there wasn’t much else around there, Lucy recalled. Just houses.

“Just like the Knitting Nest,” Maggie said quietly. “That shop is on a quiet street, also.”

Edie nodded. “That’s just what I was thinking. They busted a window in the back. But George just had a new alarm system installed. Went off like a charm and scared the bugger away.” Edie laughed. “George was griping that he overpaid but I’ll bet he’s not complaining now.”

Lucy quickly recalled the enterprising salesman from Gladiator Security and expected to see him back in the neighborhood very soon.

“That’s serious news. I’m so glad the store was empty.” Maggie looked concerned, Lucy noticed, and even a bit worried.

“The Seabolds were lucky,” Edie agreed.

Lucy felt the same. They were all thinking of Amanda, who had not been so fortunate.

“You know I always hang around the Schooner alone at night, catching up on the books and nosing around the kitchen. I never gave it a thought.” She shrugged. “But I’ll be damned if I’ll stay alone in that place one minute until the police catch this maniac.”

Edie had automatically assumed the same person who had robbed the Knitting Nest and killed Amanda had tried to break into the hardware store, Lucy noticed. It seemed a logical conclusion but this latest event could be entirely unrelated to Amanda’s murder.

“It does make you worry,” Maggie agreed.

“Damn right it does.” Edie shook her head. “I know you stay alone in here all hours and I’m telling you right now, Maggie, you’re taking a big chance. You don’t want to join Amanda’s new knitting group, do you?”

Maggie shook her head. “Of course not.”

“Well…wise up. That’s all I’m saying.” Edie glanced at Lucy. “You’re her friend. Knock some sense into her. She’s the stubborn type.”

Lucy nodded, ignoring Maggie’s look. “She is.”

Having spoken her piece, Edie seemed satisfied. She hoisted her big body out of the little chair, seemingly unaware of how the frame groaned and creaked. For a moment, Lucy thought she might be stuck. But finally, she emerged and stood upright.

“Sure you don’t want to stay for the class? Intarsia,” Maggie told her.

Edie waved her hand. “I’ve got to get home to my quiz shows. Maybe some other time.”

“Sure. Thanks for coming, Edie.”

“See you, Edie,” Lucy added.

“So long, ladies. Take care of yourselves.” Edie waved again and let herself out.

Maggie looked at Lucy. “What do you think of that?”

“Edie is right. This burglar is bold. She was also right about you staying here alone at night. You can’t do that anymore, Maggie. It’s not smart or safe.”

“Yes…I know. I start to straighten things out and rearrange a bit, and I lose track of time.”

“You’ll have to come earlier in the morning, then,” Lucy suggested.

“But that’s when Amanda was killed, in the morning,” Maggie reminded her. “I hardly see that as a solution.”

Lucy sighed. “You know what I mean. At least you have Phoebe right upstairs.”

“When she’s not with Josh,” Maggie added.

Like tonight, for instance. Lucy had forgotten about Josh. “Just be careful, “Lucy urged her friend. “No one in town is safe until the police catch Amanda’s killer. Especially shopkeepers, seems to me.”

“I’m probably the least likely victim. After all, the police still suspect me of killing Amanda.”

“They might suspect you a lot less after this episode,” Lucy pointed out.

“Good point…unless Walsh comes marching in here, checking on my whereabouts between five thirty and six.”

“Highly unlikely. And you have an airtight alibi, this time,” Lucy reminded her. “You were hanging out with me and Phoebe, discussing male psychology and push-up bras.”

“Right. Detective Walsh will love that one.” Maggie nodded, finally smiling again.

Lucy left the Black Sheep a short time later, as Maggie’s intarsia students strolled in. She drove down Main Street, not sure what she wanted to do. She felt hungry, but didn’t know what she wanted to eat. She considered stopping at the Main Street Tavern, a comfortable place, but it looked crowded and she didn’t like dining out alone, especially on a Friday night.

It was easier to go to a movie solo, though she still found herself slumping down in her seat until the lights went off. When she passed the theater in town, there was a movie showing that she wanted to see, a foreign film about two sisters in Afghanistan. She had missed the early showing and the next one was starting very late.

Finally, she headed home, planning a favorite emergency meal of scrambled eggs with melted cheese and toast and more work on the sock monkey hats. Another wild night in Plum Harbor.

Most of the time, Lucy didn’t mind being unattached. Living alone had its pluses and she sometimes wondered if she could easily adapt again to sharing her space and accommodating someone else’s schedule and moods.

Being single—even the low points—definitely beat a life of quiet desperation, stuck in an unhappy relationship.

There were times just like tonight when it got to her and she felt so completely solitary, the empty space around her seemed to be closing in, bending her a bit out of shape. Maybe she was turning into a bent lid, like the saying goes.

Most of all, sometimes she wished she had someone waiting at home to talk to. That’s one of the things she missed most about marriage. Tonight, for instance, she would relate the late-breaking news about the attempted break-in at Seabold’s Hardware. Had Amanda’s murderer struck again? Or was this latest crime—attempted crime, actually—unrelated?

It seemed to support Peter Goran’s claim that his wife had been killed in a robbery. Unless Peter himself had caused the mischief, setting off the alarm to create the impression that there was some desperate culprit on the loose. That would be an interesting twist, she thought.

And what about the intruder she’d seen in Amanda’s store? The police had never figured that one out to her knowledge. For all she knew, they believed she and her friends had made the story up for some odd reason. To distract them from looking at Maggie as a suspect?

Lucy sighed and brought her empty plate to the sink. She sometimes got tired of having these debates with herself, all in her own head. It started to make her feel a little looney.

Matt McDougal was easy to talk to. She felt relaxed and so much herself around him, which didn’t happen to her very often.

But she’d seen this game play out before. She really couldn’t count on anything evolving there. Not at this point. Maybe she would take Phoebe’s advice and ask him out next time she saw him. That would answer a few questions.

Don’t worry, you’ve already found the perfect companion, Lucy reminded herself. She listens intently to everything you say. She won’t monopolize the remote, complain about your cooking or your wardrobe, and she’ll never leave you for a younger sexier owner.

Saturday morning, Lucy woke up bright and early, then puttered around the cottage, performing her usual weekend cleanup. She went through the motions on autopilot, feeling distracted and jumpy. Finally, the phone rang. She heard it over the sound of the vacuum and ran to pick it up.

“Lucy? It’s Matt McDougal.” Of course it was. She recognized his voice instantly.

“How’s Tink? Did everything go all right?”

“The operation went fine. We got right in, took out the obstruction, and sewed her back up. No problems.”

“Thanks, that’s great.”

“It looks like she ate something fibrous…fabric maybe. It just wouldn’t break down.”

Lucy didn’t really care to hear the gory details. “As long as you got it out. That’s the main thing.”

“She’s definitely a chewer. We’ll have to watch that.”

She liked the way he said “we,” as if they had some sort of future—him, her…Tink?

“She’s still groggy from the anesthesia. I think she’ll be sleeping for a while. But you can come by to see her this afternoon, if you want.”