Yarned and Dangerous by Sadie Hartwell

of windows on the second and third stories of the redbrick building. No movement, and still no other signs of habitation, current or former. Put that thought out of your head, Josephine, she told herself. What business is it of yours? And even though the answer was clearly none, she could easily solve that little mystery by asking Evelyn tomorrow.
    Her stomach rumbled. It was well into the afternoon, and she and Evelyn had not stopped for lunch. But it was too close to dinnertime to eat more than a snack. She looked toward the back of the shop. At some point she’d have to face going into the storeroom, where a person had died. But not today.

Chapter 8
    J osie picked up cat food and a candy bar at the general store before heading back to Eb’s place. She’d decided to walk to the store, which just happened to give her an opportunity to cross the street and look in the unmarked window of the door that the yarn-crazy women of Dorset Falls kept disappearing into. But all she could make out through the frosted glass were the fuzzy outlines of what might have been a stairwell. And of course, the door was locked. Not that she’d really expected it to be open, but it was worth a try.
    The Saab’s heater was about the only thing that worked well, and Josie had it going full blast, along with the radio, which refused to pick up any stations other than AM. She switched it off.
    Since there was still some daylight left, this seemed as good a time as any to take a drive through Dorset Falls. The Saab sputtered as she motored down Main Street, past the small snow-covered town green. The spire of the Congregational church was bright white against the fading blue of the sky, as a ray of remaining sunlight made its last stand for the afternoon. At the stop sign in front of the redbrick town hall, she took a left onto Maple.
    Two blocks down, the house was still there. It had been painted a pale green with darker green trim, which seemed a little monochromatic for a proper Victorian color scheme, but was pretty enough. The clapboards had been yellow when she and her mother had rented the house for a couple of years, what seemed like a lifetime ago.
    She pulled up and parked in front of it. It wasn’t large, or grand, like the houses over on Elm Street, but it was being lovingly tended just the same. The front walk had been shoveled, the edges cut precisely and neatly into the snow. The steeply pitched roof appeared to be new, and a wreath covered in pink and red silk flowers hung on the door, presumably in honor of Valentine’s Day next week.
    It had been tough, changing high schools in her sophomore year, leaving behind her friends. She’d eventually made a new friend in Lorna, but she’d never felt like she fit in. Dorset Falls was always temporary, just a stopping place. So when graduation came, the city called her, and she’d never looked back. She wondered now if maybe that had been a mistake.
    Lost in her musings and distracted by the white noise of the car’s heater, she didn’t realize someone was at her driver’s side window until a gentle tap brought her focus to the present. A woman stood there, her pink puffer coat open despite the cold.
    â€œCan I help you?” she said as Josie rolled down the window. “Do you need directions?” Her face was friendly, framed in dark blond hair that feathered softly. She seemed to be about Josie’s age.
    â€œOh, no,” Josie said, feeling her cheeks heat up. “I used to live here, that’s all. It looks really nice.”
    The woman smiled. “How wonderful! I’d invite you in for a tour, but I’m just on my way to pick up my kids from the bus stop. I’m Gwen Simmons.”
    â€œJosie Blair.”
    Gwen looked thoughtful. “Oh, I know who you are! You’re here to close up Miss Marple Knits. Such a shame about Cora. I’m so sorry for your loss.”
    â€œI . . . didn’t really know