A Stitch in Crime

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Authors: Betty Hechtman
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have an idea,” Commander began. “I just wanted to get your okay first.”
    When I heard it involved his getting breakfast, I couldn’t say yes fast enough.
    I stepped back into the dining room and announced there would be a delay of breakfast, then went back to the kitchen to help.
    A short time later, I returned and invited our group to get their food. It turned out the two employees were good at helping once they were told what to do. Commander had a wonderful recipe for a breakfast casserole. It was amazing what he’d done with some eggs, bread, green onions and shredded cheese. Dinah and I had found fruit to cut up for salad and made pots of coffee. There was orange juice, too. We’d set up the food buffet style on the stainless steel counter.
    Everything smelled delicious, and the small group began to help themselves.
    “Well, Sunshine, good job with breakfast,” Mason said as he picked up a plate. I was still getting used to his outfit. I was accustomed to seeing him in finely tailored suits or high-end casual wear. The white cotton pants and kimono jacket over a long-sleeve knit shirt seemed out of place on him along with the black cotton shoes. As usual, a lock of his warm brown hair had fallen across his forehead, giving him an earnest look as he put some food on his plate.
    “Commander deserves the credit. He pulled it all together. We just did the grunt work.”
    Mason picked up a mug for coffee. “Is there any milk?” One of the Asilomar employees got a carton of milk from the refrigerator and started to put it on the counter, but Commander wanted her to pour it into a small pitcher. I noticed a photo of a little girl on the carton. Dinah did, too.
    “I didn’t know they were still running those pictures of missing kids,” she said. “That little girl looks like Ashley-Angela.” For a moment Dinah sounded wistful, then she straightened up. “Just tell me to shut up,” she said with a laugh. Ashley-Angela and her fraternal twin brother, E. Conner, were the children of Dinah’s ex and his second wife, who was now an ex, too. In some bizarre twist of fate, Dinah had ended up caring for the kids and had gotten attached to them. She was truly sorry to see them go when their father finally came for them. But she was glad to get her freedom back, too. Sometimes when she saw a kid who resembled one of the twins, she still got sad and missed them.
    “This girl is older than Ashley-Angela,” I said, looking at the carton.
    “They just made the picture look that way. The girl has probably been missing for a couple of years. Kids change a lot, and somehow they fix the picture so it shows how she would look.” Dinah poured some milk in a little pitcher and handed it to Mason.
    Some more people came in, and I noticed Adele talking to the woman I’d seen sitting in the dining room. I caught a snippet of the conversation and was surprised to hear Adele doing her spiel about knitters trying to take over the world. The angry man came across the room to me.
    “Hi, I’m Spenser Futterman,” he said, putting out his hand. “And that’s my niece Marni.” He gestured toward the woman talking to Adele. “We’re not part of your group, but we were supposed to get breakfast . . .”
    He let his voice trail off, and I got the message. They were hungry and wanted to join us. When I looked at him close up, he had a rather pleasant face now that he wasn’t angry.
    “We all have to stick together,” I said, inviting them to help themselves. As Spenser poured two glasses of juice, Izabelle came in. Spenser looked up, and their eyes met.
    “You’re here?” she said. She sounded surprised and anything but happy to see him.
    “I need to talk to you.” He stepped closer to her, and she moved away.
    “There’s nothing to say,” Izabelle said, taking a plate of fruit and going back to the dining hall. She walked past Marni without any sign of recognition.
    “What was that about?” Dinah asked, coming up

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