Yarned and Dangerous (14 page)

Hands shaking, she forced her fingers to grip the wheel. This was crazy. The driver was crazy. Eb's farm couldn't be far now.

The car maintained a steady distance of a few feet for a quarter of a mile or so. Josie forced her eyes to remain on the road. If the person was going to ram her, the person was going to ram her. It was completely out of her control.

Heart beating hard, she felt a drip of sweat form on her forehead and start to run down the bridge of her nose and onto a cheek. She didn't dare take her hands off the wheel to wipe it away.

The car edged even closer. The bumpers must be close to touching. Suddenly, the lights receded, but only for a moment. The car then moved up alongside her so that its passenger door was mere inches from her driver's side. She glanced over, but couldn't make out who was in the car. It was too dark, and her eyes were still not fully adjusted again. The car drove alongside her. Involuntarily, she turned her wheel slightly to the right in an attempt to increase the distance. The car kept pace with her, driving on the wrong side of the road.

She couldn't go any farther to her right. If her wheels hit the gravel on the side of the road, she'd be off in that ditch. It might not be deep enough to kill her, but she'd be hurt.

Up ahead, she saw the lidded sap bucket that served as Eb's mailbox.
Just hold it steady. You're almost there.
With a surge of adrenaline, she let off the gas to slow her vehicle. The other car shot ahead and drove off into the night. Impossible to tell the color, and she was too rattled to register the make or the model.
Dark,
she thought. It was bigger and taller than her Saab. An SUV maybe. She rolled to a stop in Eb's driveway.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as she willed herself to calm down.

What had just happened?

J
osie lay awake the next morning. Coco had slept on her lower legs most of the night, which was the only thing that had prevented Josie from tossing and turning. Now her eyes were gritty, and she felt drained. The last thing she wanted to do was get up, unless today's itinerary included packing up her car and driving back to New York. If she left now, she could be home in time for a chocolate croissant and espresso at Parisia, her favorite French café.

She thought of Eb downstairs, who'd been snoring away when she'd finally worked up enough courage to get out of her car and come inside last night. She'd made sure all the doors and windows were locked, and checked to be sure Jethro and Coco were in the house. There was no reason to think that the car that had almost run her off the road was threatening her specifically. It was probably some teenager with more guts than brains out tearing around on a country road. She felt safe enough in the house. Jethro was better than any burglar alarm.

But still, Josie couldn't help but wonder. Since she'd been in town she'd made some enemies without even trying, it seemed. Could it have been Diantha? It didn't seem like her style. Courtney or Trey? But why? No, she was doing what they wanted, which was closing up the shop so they could bulldoze it into rubble.

A thought occurred to her as she got dressed. One she liked even less than what she'd been pondering before. Evelyn? Or even the more mild-mannered Helen? Josie knew they were hiding something, but was it big enough that they'd make an attempt on her life to keep her from digging any deeper?

She came to a decision. She'd report the incident to the police. If nothing came of it, so much the better. It would mean the driver really had been some teenager and there wasn't anything sinister going on.

She pulled Sharla Coogan's card from her wallet and punched the number into her cell phone. Sharla didn't pick up, so Josie left a message asking Sharla to meet her at the shop if she had a chance this afternoon.

Maybe Sharla would reveal some information about the murder investigation. Even better, Evelyn would be there when Sharla arrived. Josie would watch her reaction when Josie told the story of her brush with death last night. If Evelyn was responsible, she might give herself away.

Satisfied she was doing everything she could, Josie got through her morning chores in record time. Eb declared his intention of spending the day in his workshop, which was a space attached to the back of the house. She made him a sandwich on the wheat bread he liked and left it wrapped in the fridge, alongside an apple and a bottle of cola, and headed out to start the second leg of her day.

Mitch was pulling into the driveway just as she got to her car. “Hey,” he said, giving her a grin. “I was just coming to talk to Eb. It's going to be above freezing the next few days, which means the sap will be running.”

Josie grinned back. “Running where?”

He chuckled. “From the sugar maples, through the tubing I set up, and into plastic storage tanks. I'm going to try to talk Eb into letting me collect his sap and do the boiling for him at the Woodruff sugarhouse. He can't do it alone this year, and you've got your hands full wrapping up Cora's affairs.”

“What happens if the sap doesn't get collected?” The sun was warm on her face, and despite being exhausted, she felt her mood lift.

“Eb loses a lot of money,” Mitch said. “Just like us, he depends on the few thousand dollars the maple syrup brings in to keep the farm running.”

Josie felt a stab of conscience, even as she added one more item to her long to-do list. “What should I be helping with?”

“No need, as long as I can get Eb to let
me
help him. I think if I tell him I'll boil his sap separately from Gramps's, he'll agree. He doesn't have much choice. With that bum leg, he can't carry the wood needed to keep the evaporator going.”

“Mitch, thank you so much. I don't know what Eb, or Mom, or I would do without you.” She felt a little flush of embarrassment creep up her cheeks. “Um, if you have time, could you check on Eb again this afternoon? I hate to ask, but I'm worried about him.”

Mitch's brow furrowed. “Is that leg not healing? He's trying to do too much.”

“He has an appointment with the orthopedic doctor next week. We'll find out then. It's probably just me.” There was no point in saying anything to Mitch about what had happened last night until she'd spoken to Sharla. It was all speculation.

“Well, don't worry. I'll make up some excuse to come back.” His eyes held hers just a moment longer than necessary. “I like it here.”

Her stomach fluttered. Definitely time to go. “Thanks,” was all she managed. He didn't have to be so nice. Mitch opened her car door and she got in, tossing her gloves on the passenger seat. He waved from the front porch as she drove away.

 

Evelyn was waiting for Josie on the steps of Miss Marple Knits when she arrived in town. “Hello, stranger,” Evelyn said. “Long time no see.”

“Hi, Evelyn.” It was all Josie could do to keep from looking up at the windows across the street. “Thanks again for helping me.”

Evelyn waved her hand dismissively. “Don't be silly. It's nice to be busy, and sorting yarn is almost as much fun as knitting it.”

They entered the shop, which was full of February sunshine. “We should be able to finish the main part of the store today, then tomorrow we can start on the storeroom,” Evelyn continued. “Maybe we'll even make the deadline.” Josie wasn't so sure about that, but there was no sense saying it to her friend. Her maybe-friend.

An hour or so later, a knock sounded. Sharla, wearing mirrored sunglasses and dressed in her dark blue uniform pants and a matching coat, stepped across the threshold. Evelyn started. “I haven't forgotten Andrew today, have I?”

Sharla took off the glasses. She didn't look nearly so intimidating without them. Unzipping her coat, she smiled. “No, Mom, Andrew's at preschool today, and I'm off this afternoon.” She inclined her head in Josie's direction. “Josie asked me to come in.”

Evelyn's face paled. It was a good thing Sharla wasn't looking at her mother-in-law, or Evelyn would have had to do some explaining.

Hmm. Evelyn must think I'm about to rat her out
. Josie had considered it, but decided to keep quiet for now. There was no proof of anything except that Evelyn had a secret. Which everybody did, of some kind. Not that curiosity wasn't killing her.

Josie turned toward Sharla. “Something happened last night, on my way home. It's probably nothing, but I thought I should tell you.” She related the events, and gave the officer a vague description of the other vehicle. “I couldn't see the license plate.”

Sharla looked thoughtful. “That's not much to go on, you know. It was probably nothing, just some dope driving too fast for conditions. Still, to cover all the bases, why don't you come down to the station and put in a report?”

“You—” Josie's throat was tight, and she cleared it. “You don't think it could have anything to do with Lillian's murder?”

Sharla's voice was matter-of-fact. “I'm not going to lie to you. Until we catch the killer, I guess anything's possible.”

“Do you have any suspects?” Evelyn piped in, asking the question on the tip of Josie's tongue. Evelyn's cheeks were pink again, and she seemed to have recovered.

Sharla dropped her chin and cut her eyes to the older woman. “If we did, I couldn't talk about it.”

“Well,” Evelyn harrumphed. “If there's a murderer loose in Dorset Falls, I'd say the townspeople have a right to know.”

“You're right,” Sharla said. “And just as soon as there's an arrest, there'll be a press conference at the town hall.”

“Are there any suspects?” Josie said. “I'm not asking for names,” she added quickly. There was no point in asking. Sharla was doing her job and keeping her mouth shut.

“We have some leads we're following up on. And I really can't say any more about it. Josie, come down to the station and fill out a report. Mom, you're coming for dinner tonight, right?”

Evelyn pursed her lips. “I don't know why you wouldn't let me cook for you. You deserve a day off, and I don't mind in the least.”

“Not to worry, Mom. I put a pot roast in the slow cooker this morning. It'll be ready at six o'clock, and I'll let you do the dishes if it will make you feel better.”

“It will,” Evelyn declared. “Bye, honey.”

Sharla grinned and suited back up to go outdoors. “Bye.”

The rest of the morning passed quickly. At twelve forty-five, Josie blew her bangs out of her face and sat down heavily on the couch. Evelyn excused herself to the restroom.

They were finished. Finished with this room, at least. The cubbies and baskets were empty. The yarn was sorted, counted, and bagged. The patterns, tools, and supplies were inventoried and placed in several cardboard boxes salvaged from the storeroom. Josie's eyes roamed the walls and landed on the framed picture of Miss Marple. The actress—whose name Josie didn't know—seemed to be looking directly at Josie over her knitting. “All right,” Josie said aloud. “You can stay for now. You'll be the last thing I take out.” Miss Marple seemed to approve.

Evelyn returned, rubbing her hands together. “Shall we go get some lunch at the general store? I'm starving.”

“Good idea. And we can see if they have any extra boxes. We're going to need them when we tackle the storeroom.”

The g.s. was busier than normal. Josie understood why when she saw the lunch special: macaroni and cheese with a tomato salad. She ordered two, then sat down to wait. Evelyn was rearranging the Charity Knitters display, then disappeared down one of the aisles. She must have needed toothpaste or something.

“Josie, right? Mind if I join you? Most of the tables are full.” The voice was familiar, but it took Josie a moment to remember whom it belonged to.

“Of course not, Gwen, sit down. I'm eating with Evelyn today.” The mechanic's wife parked herself opposite Josie and took off her coat.

“Thanks. The only other empty seat is the one between Diantha Humphries and Courtney. And she hates me,” Gwen said cheerfully.

Josie let out a snort of laughter. “Well, we have something in common then. I'm definitely not their favorite person, even though I've known them for all of a week or so.”

“It's funny,” Gwen said, pulling a couple of napkins from the dispenser and setting them in front of her. “I should be the one to hate Courtney. She's always hitting on Rusty.”

Josie had seen that herself, and she could well believe it hadn't been the first time. “Well, Rusty seems like a great guy.” She hoped it was true.

“He is. And a great dad.” Gwen smiled. “Courtney's just . . . proprietary. Her father owned the garage for years, and Rusty worked for him, learning the business. When her father decided to retire, he sold the business to Rusty and left for Florida. She was livid at the time. Thought her father should have left the business, including Rusty, to her.”

“Even though she's married to Trey?”

Gwen chuckled. “
Because
she's married to Trey. Seriously. Put those two men side by side and tell me whom you'd pick. The only thing Trey has going for him is a good job.”

Evelyn came over and sat down. “Gwen! Lovely to see you, dear. How are Rusty and the kids?”

Josie left them to chat while she retrieved the lunches. Lorna was busy, and, based on the number of dollars in her tip jar, she was having a pretty good day, so Josie just thanked her. She set the tray down on the table in front of her lunch companions.

They dug in. The pasta was bathed in a hot, gooey sea of cheese, topped by toasted bread crumbs. In a small white dish on the side was a fresh tomato and onion salad dressed with a light vinaigrette.

When she finished, Josie sat back in her chair, sated. It had probably been a mistake, though a delicious one. Her restless night combined with the heavy meal to make her sleepy. She stifled a yawn. “Need a coffee?” Gwen said sympathetically. “If you're like me, you probably don't have time for a nap. I'm going to order one for myself. I have to be on my toes when my kids come home.”

“I'd love one,” Josie said, grateful. She reached into her purse for her wallet.

“Don't worry about it,” Gwen said. “I heard you were in the shop the other day with your car, so you're a client. Evelyn?” Evelyn nodded.

Gwen went to the counter to order the drinks, taking the empty dishes with her. Josie reached back into her purse to return the wallet. Her fingers touched something soft. What was that? She pulled out the skein of yarn she'd found in Cora's desk drawer back in the morning-borning room and offered it to Evelyn.

Evelyn took the yarn. “What's this?” Light dawned on her face as she examined it. “Of course! You found another skein of yarn to match your scarf. So you must have found Cora's notebook. Who had the yarn?”

Josie frowned. “I still haven't found the notebook. I don't have a clue where it might be. I found this back at the house and forgot to give it to you until now.”

Evelyn's smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “Well,” she said. “This might not be enough for the hat I have in mind for you. A slouchy tam, I think, would look right at home on the streets of New York or the streets of Dorset Falls. I'll need one more skein. So keep looking.” She glanced around, then put the yarn into her purse.

Josie knew where at least one more skein of this yarn was—made into a cord and pulled tight around Lillian Woodruff's neck.