Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs

by Stacey Alabaster

  "Come on, Jasper," I said, half-joking. "Come and put your paws to good use and help me out." But he was whimpering at the door, begging to be let into the warmth, so I opened the door and let him in. I was left alone shivering on the street with my hands freezing around the shovel. Maybe we can just do without customers today, I thought, ready to give up.

  A woman with brown hair was walking up the street, moving far too quickly for someone walking over snow-covered pavement.

  "Melanie!" I shouted to her as I dropped the shovel and started hurrying down the street. Well, it was more like slipping down the street.

  "I thought that you had left town," I said, taking my mittens off one by one. "Or at least, that's what I assumed."

  Melanie shook her head a little sadly. It was strange to see her looking so melancholy. Every other time I had seen her, she had been so happy-go-lucky. "I'm not allowed to leave town until I either pay the fine or show my face in court," she said, referring to the chain reaction that Brenda had caused. "Plus, if the civil case goes ahead, I will have even more legal issues."

  "I am so sorry about what happened," I said, feeling heavy with guilt. "Melanie, you have to know that I had nothing to do with it. Brenda took matters into her own hands, even though I told her repeatedly that she ought to just leave things be."

  Melanie nodded and shot me a little smile. "I know," she said, and I could tell that she believed me. "I'm not even mad about it, honestly. I knew that what I was doing wasn't entirely legal. I suppose things catch up to a person after a while, don't they?" she asked with a little shrug.

  "But where are you staying now?" I asked her.

  "At a motel in town..."

  "How can you afford that?" I asked in shock.

  Melanie shoved her hands into her pockets. "That's...that's kind of what I came here to ask you about, George."

  Was she about to ask me for money? I didn't mind helping her out a little, but I couldn't afford to foot her motel bill. She could always stay with me for a night or two. The person who really should have been offering to help her out was Brenda, but pigs would fly before that happened.

  "I don't want any charity," Melanie said. "But I do want to ask you a favor, George."

  "If it's something I can do,” I said, putting my mittens back on over my freezing hands, “then I am happy to help."

  Melanie turned around and nodded toward the craft shop. "Does the store happen to have any positions open?"

  Brenda had taken the morning and a chunk of the early afternoon off to go and visit her niece in prison. A bit of a skeleton in her closet that Brenda didn't much like to discuss, so she'd asked me to tell any customers who inquired that she was visiting an antiques store the next town over.

  Melanie was busy unpacking stock, eager to show me what a fast worker she was. It was just a trial at that stage, but if she was good, I didn't mind giving her a few shifts each week.

  "Is Brenda really going to be okay with this?" she asked.

  "It's okay," I said with a smile. "I don't have to ask Brenda permission to do anything. I own this store. She only works here."

  Melanie actually seemed surprised to hear this. She stopped rolling the yarn and placed it down, her eyes wide. "I-I just assumed that Brenda was the owner, the way she has been acting." She shot me a strange look. "And I assumed that you were just a manager here."

  It dawned on me that this might change things. I wondered if Melanie's quickness to forgive me would disappear now. Maybe she would think I should have done more to rein Brenda in.

  "Sorry," I said. "I know that I should have stepped in before things came to this."

  Melanie laughed a little, but she was still looking down at the yarn. "No, I understand. I don't know Brenda that well, but I do understand that when she gets a bee in her bonnet, it is hard for her to get rid of it. "

  "Look," I said. "If you want the job, it's yours. Don't worry about what Brenda is going to say. You let me deal with that, okay? It's the least that I can do."

  I checked my phone and saw on social media that Lucy Taylor had checked into what appeared to be a function down at the police station. At first, I felt a little jealous, wondering if she was there as Ryan's date. But that had all been rumor, hadn't it? To cover up her affair with Anthony. Ryan had mentioned the party at one stage, but I'd assumed it would be canceled after Anthony's death.

  "What's wrong?" Melanie asked.

  "I just... It's nothing," I said, putting the phone away. But I was edgy after that and couldn't settle. I kept looking at the time, and glancing out the window.

  "If you need to go somewhere, I can watch the store for you," Melanie said.

  I considered it for a split-second, then shook my head. "No, that's okay. You've only just started. It wouldn't be fair to put that level of responsibility on you."

  Melanie laughed as though my hesitation was silly. "I do know how to run a craft business," she said. "Honestly, it won't be any trouble." She ran through all the tasks that would be required. Stocking. Cleaning. Ringing up orders. "And I owe you a big favor, George. I'll be happy to do it."

  All I could think about was the fact that Brenda would be walking in to start her shift at 2:30.

  But this might be my only chance to figure out what those cops were getting up to.

  "Okay," I said, grabbing my coat. "But if you need me for any reason—and I mean any—then don't hesitate to call me." I paused at the door for a moment. "And don't let Brenda get to you."

  "Don't worry," Melanie said with a smile. "I can handle Brenda."

  "Hey!" I said brightly as I entered the break room, which was decorated in streamers to celebrate the new promotion of Matt Gleeson.

  Ryan's face turned to stone. "George. What are you doing here?"

  "You invited me, remember?" I said as I grabbed a drink. From the other side of the room, Lucy eyed me suspiciously. By that point, she and all the women knew who I really was. In her eyes, I was back to being the town riffraff.

  Ryan looked a little awkward, glancing around like he didn't know what game I was playing.

  "I know I did," he whispered, out of earshot of the others. "But that was before..."

  "Well, you don't want to cause a scene, do you?" I asked him as I drank the cheap sparkling wine offered to me. To be honest, I preferred it to the real champagne I had been drinking with the ladies at the club.

  I kept a close eye on what the other cops were doing. "What is Matt Gleeson doing?" I asked as I watched him leave the room and noticed that he didn't come back for a long while. "Isn't this his celebration?"

  "I'm not sure," Ryan said, taking a sip of his wine. "I try to ignore that guy as much as possible."

  "I thought you were friends with all other officers," I said, surprised.

  Ryan shrugged a little. "Yeah, well, you can't always trust the people you think you can trust."

  "Don't I know it."

  The party was winding down and Ryan suggested we take a little walk outside in the snow. He tried to take my hand, but I pretended he hadn't and pulled it away.

  "You've been acting a little strange," Ryan said as we walked along the balcony on the second floor of the station.

  "Well, I suppose I feel like I haven't been exactly welcomed at the party."

  "Before this..." Ryan said, trying to walk lightly across the wooden planks of the balcony, but making so much noise with his boots that it echoed beneath us.

  "It's been a weird two weeks," I said, turning to face him. "Your colleague died."

  He shook his head. "This isn't just because of Detective Nicholas. Come on, George, you hardly even knew the guy. You weren't crying at his funeral. It's me. You seem like you're holding a grudge against me, and I don't even know what it is."

  I had to turn my face from him. I didn't want to tell him about the rumor I'd heard, about him and Lucy Taylor. Not only did it seem ridiculous now, it would make me seem jealous. So instead, something even worse came tumbling out of my mouth.
>
  "Did you have anything to do with it, Ryan?"

  I heard him suck his breath in. "Are you really asking me that, George?"

  "You were pretty mad at him about calling you in on your weekend off," I said, daring to glance around, just a little.

  He reached out and placed a hand on my arm. "That was only because I wanted to spend it with you."

  I pulled away from him. "You were in the station with him for a long time," I said. "It was only you there that night, and the other officers." I paused. "Well, and a woman with brown hair..." Something deep inside my brain started to twitch, but it was foggy and I shook it off. "I don't think I'll ever forget that long wait in the car."

  "Do you really think I am capable of killing a man?" Ryan asked, his face pale.

  I watched the snow slowly fall onto the ground several feet below. "Honestly? I think anyone is capable of doing anything when they are pushed too far." I glanced up at him. "Take Sally for example."

  Ryan raised an eyebrow. "She certainly has a temper," he said.

  "She didn't do it, Ryan. She didn't kill Anthony."

  He sucked in a deep breath. "I know," he said.

  "So, are you going to do anything to stop her being charged with murder?" I asked. "Or are you just going to let it happen because it will be easier for you?"

  He didn’t answer me, just sighed and put his hands in his pockets. We both knew we weren’t getting anywhere with this conversation. We were just standing outside and freezing.

  “Let’s go inside,” Ryan suggested.

  As we walked in, I noticed that Matt Gleason was deep in paperwork at his desk. What could he be working on so late? And why wasn’t he in celebrating with the others? I told Ryan to go mingle with the others and I would join him after a quick bathroom break. Instead, I waited around the corner until Matt left to return to the party. Then I snuck over to take a look at what he had been working on.

  "What are these papers?" I asked myself, seeing Melanie's name at the top of the pile. It concerned her being potentially charged with breaking council laws, but no action had been officially taken. Ryan came hurrying over and told me not to look at anything confidential.

  "These must be due to the complaint that Brenda made..." I murmured.

  But the date was from two weeks earlier, and the name of the investigating officer was Anthony Nicholas.

  Ryan took it out of my hand and placed it back on the desk. "George, please."

  "This is the date that Anthony Nicholas was killed," I said, gasping and pulling it out of the pile again.

  Ryan grabbed the papers off me. "You can't just go looking through these, George!" he said, red-faced as he stuffed them away again, this time behind his back.

  I gulped. I had a feeling that he and Matt Gleeson had been investigating the case even when they'd been told not to.

  "What was that paper?" I asked, trying to reach behind him to get it back.

  "It's not even important," Ryan said.

  "Then why can't I look at it?"

  He huffed a little and relented. "It’s just notes saying that Detective Nicholas had stopped by the stand earlier that morning and asked to see a permit," Ryan said.

  I grabbed it from him and stepped out of reach so he couldn't take it back. Not until I'd read it properly anyway. My heart started to race. The only reason the charges hadn't been filed was because Nicholas had died that same day.

  "So let me get this clear. On the day that Nicholas was killed...he had threatened to shut down Melanie's stall?" I asked, slowly dropping the paper back onto the desk.

  Ryan shrugged. "What does that matter?"

  I glanced over my shoulder at the snow outside the window and my whole skin pricked with goosebumps. "It matters because I left her alone in charge of my shop. And Brenda would’ve walked right in."

  "What’s going on?" Ryan asked, shining a flashlight against the door of the shop. There were no lights on the other side.

  "I don't know!" I said frantically, pulling on it again. "My key isn't working!" How was that possible? I'd opened up the shop that morning with the very same set of keys. "Maybe it's the cold weather, causing the lock to freeze," I said, my hands trembling as I dropped the keys in the snow. But I knew it wasn't that. I knew Melanie had jammed the lock because she didn't want anyone getting inside. Not until she was done. And I wasn’t talking about her shift.

  "We are going to have to break the door down," Ryan said finally, after he'd surveyed the situation. "This is a time-sensitive issue."

  I glanced thorough the glass door. "But my merchandise!"

  Ryan raised his brows. "What about Brenda's life?"

  Right. I stepped out of the way. "Go for it." I turned my head away and closed my eyes as I heard the glass smash and cover the floor of the shop…and all my discounted wares.

  "Stay out front, George," Ryan warned me as he pulled his gun and walked inside.

  I did as I was told for a second, but not for long before I followed him in through the broken door, shards of glass still sticking out of the frame.

  "George, get back!"

  But I wasn't going back. "Ryan, my best friend is in trouble." I stopped. Had I really just called Brenda my best friend?

  He shined his torch around the store, but it was empty.

  Ryan shook his head and put the gun away. "There's no one here," he said. He was about to leave. I grabbed his arm and nodded toward the stockroom. "They'll be out there."

  Ryan nodded and started to walk slowly, before using his walkie talkie to call for backup.

  "What if we’re too late?" I asked as we approached the door. I had no idea what we were about to find on the other side.

  "You did everything you could," Ryan said. "No one else put it all together—not even the police working on the case."

  "I didn't do everything I could," I said, shaking my head as we got closer and closer. Ryan was still waiting for backup before we broke the next door down. "I hired her to work in my store. Gave her the keys. Led Brenda right into the slaughter. Melanie will do the same to her as she did to Nicholas."

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. "You could hardly have known at the time, George."

  But I felt like I should have. I had been the one sitting in the car that night. I'd actually seen Melanie walk into the station. If something had happened to Brenda, I wouldn't be able to forgive myself.

  We heard sirens, which was Ryan's cue to kick the door down. Melanie gasped and dropped the rope she was using to tie Brenda to the chair I sat in for my tea breaks.

  "Put your hands up!" Ryan called as the rest of the force arrived. Matt Gleeson was first through the door.

  I saw the terror in Brenda's eyes as Matt barged in to arrest Melanie, while Ryan raced to Brenda, to make sure she was all right.

  The worst thing of all was, I was going to have to admit to Brenda that she had been right about Melanie all along.

  Melanie was being dragged out of the room. She really did deserve to be locked up.

  "I'm sorry, Brenda," I said as Ryan helped her to her feet.

  She brushed herself off and shook her head, giving me the smuggest smile I had ever seen in my life. “I told you I was right."

  That was enough for her.

  Epilogue

  One Week Later

  The snow was thicker than I had ever seen it before. On top of the car, the secondhand pair of skis rattled away, ready to be used when we reached the top of the mountain. From the backseat, two very eager dogs started to yap and bark with excitement.

  Ryan seemed to have itchy fingers, tapping them on the steering wheel while an AC/DC song played on the radio.

  "I can't believe we are finally doing this," he said with a grin.

  "Doing what?" I asked, grinning back slyly.

  "Getting away. Making things official," he replied gently.

  "Well, I think this weekend off is going to do you a world of good," I said with a bright smile, hiding my face a little so that
I didn't seem too giddy at the prospect that we were 'official.'

  "I just haven't had a proper vacation in a long time," Ryan replied.

  "You can't always be working," I said. "Let the other guys handle it for a while."

  Hayfield Mountain Resort approached, and then flew past us and was soon in the rearview mirror. We were headed toward a little cabin, something more our style and a place where dogs were allowed to go.

  Just as we stepped out of the car, Ryan's phone started to ring.

  "Why don't I just ignore that," he said, switching the phone to silent and putting it in his back pocket. He walked around to my side of the car and pulled me close. I knew this would be a weekend I would never forget.

  Thanks for reading Crafts, Crimes, and Country Clubs. I hope you enjoyed the story. If you did, it would be awesome if you left a review for me on Amazon and/or Goodreads.

  Make sure you check out the next book in the series. It’s called Murder, Money, and Moving On. As the name implies, it is the finale in the Craft Circle Cozy Mystery series. Don’t worry, I am already working on another series :)

  amazon.com/dp/B07BCY7HCQ

  At the very end of the book, I have included a couple previews of books by friends and fellow authors at Fairfield Publishing. First is a preview of Up in Smoke by Shannon VanBergen - it’s a fun (and funny) story about vigilante grannies in a retirement home who solve crimes and stir up all kinds of trouble. Second is a preview of Croissants and Corruption by Danielle Collins - it’s the first story in the popular Margot Durand Cozy Mystery series. I really hope you like the samples. If you do, both books are available on Amazon.

  Get Up in Smoke here:

  amazon.com/dp/B06XHKYRRX

  Get Croissants and Corruption here:

  amazon.com/dp/B06X9C3G5T/

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