Read Online Death of a Crafty Knitter by Angela Pepper - Free Book Online
Authors: Angela Pepper
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bottom corner. The business was one I knew: Misty Microchips, the computer business owned by Marvin and Marcy, the couple who'd nearly ruined my previous evening with their bickering.
I turned the notepad left and right as I tried to decipher the inky swirls. In between the looping and nonsensical shapes, there were numbers. It looked like long division—a six-figure number divided by the number twelve. The resulting number had a dollar sign in front of it.
"That's a hefty salary," I muttered to the empty room. Because of my business background, I had automatically considered that the number twelve stood for the twelve months in a year, and these were calculations for a CEO's monthly salary. I quickly dismissed this idea, though, because we didn't have any CEOs in Misty Falls, let alone ones that would earn that much. I snapped another photo, then moved on to the drawers of the nightstand.
The top drawer contained hand lotion, two empty boxes of chocolates, and a packet of birth control pills with the previous day's pill popped out, but not today's. Did Voula have a boyfriend, as my father had suggested? The lingerie in the hamper could have just been her regular nightgown. The night before, she'd been at the party with other women, which was something only single people did on such a special night.
That didn't mean she didn't have a man in her life. Then again, the existence of her birth control didn't mean she did, either. I knew some women took monthly hormones for other reasons.
I took a photo of the drawer contents without disturbing anything, then pulled open the lower drawer. This one contained a rolled-up extension cord and a charger that looked like the one I had for my own laptop. I took a photo, then checked the room for her computer. I wouldn't be able to do anything if it was password-protected, like most people's laptops, but it would be helpful to the police if I pointed it out for them.
I searched the entire bedroom, but didn't find the laptop. It hadn't been downstairs, which left only the room with the body.
I reluctantly entered the room slowly. The pool of blood seemed like it had spread out from the body, but it could have been my imagination. I noted the current border with a disconnected sense of curiosity, the way an experienced investigator might view the scene. I took several pictures inside the room, including shots of the knitted doll near her hand, and the gun, which looked old and somewhat fancy, with inlaid mother-of-pearl. I avoided looking directly at the body as I backed out of the room and pulled the door closed.
I stood there, unable to walk away. I don't believe in ghosts, but I felt her presence. She'd given me the creeps at the pub, but first impressions weren't everything. The woman had been alive and now she wasn't, because something terrible had happened. I felt like I needed to say something, even if it was more for my benefit than Voula's.
"I'm sorry this happened to you," I said to the closed door. "I don't know what you planned to do in Misty Falls, but I'm sure it wasn't this. On behalf of the town, I'm sorry. Wherever you are, I hope you're at peace. We're going to find who did this to you."
As I finished my speech, the air in the house changed. A cold breeze rushed along the hallway, putting a chill up my spine and raising the hairs on my arms, even under my sweater and jacket.
My breath caught in my throat. Was it a ghost? Voula's spirit passing by me?
Something thumped downstairs. I pressed my back against the wall of the hallway and froze, waiting for more sounds.
Chapter 8
The thumps sounded again. It was a familiar sound, almost homey: snowy boots being stamped on the porch.
Someone rapped on the door loudly.
"Police!" A man's voice came through the door.
"Tony?" I squeaked.
"I'm going to break down the door!" The house trembled at the threat.
"Coming!" I warbled as I ran down the stairs and toward the door. "Coming! Hold your horses!" I sounded
I turned the notepad left and right as I tried to decipher the inky swirls. In between the looping and nonsensical shapes, there were numbers. It looked like long division—a six-figure number divided by the number twelve. The resulting number had a dollar sign in front of it.
"That's a hefty salary," I muttered to the empty room. Because of my business background, I had automatically considered that the number twelve stood for the twelve months in a year, and these were calculations for a CEO's monthly salary. I quickly dismissed this idea, though, because we didn't have any CEOs in Misty Falls, let alone ones that would earn that much. I snapped another photo, then moved on to the drawers of the nightstand.
The top drawer contained hand lotion, two empty boxes of chocolates, and a packet of birth control pills with the previous day's pill popped out, but not today's. Did Voula have a boyfriend, as my father had suggested? The lingerie in the hamper could have just been her regular nightgown. The night before, she'd been at the party with other women, which was something only single people did on such a special night.
That didn't mean she didn't have a man in her life. Then again, the existence of her birth control didn't mean she did, either. I knew some women took monthly hormones for other reasons.
I took a photo of the drawer contents without disturbing anything, then pulled open the lower drawer. This one contained a rolled-up extension cord and a charger that looked like the one I had for my own laptop. I took a photo, then checked the room for her computer. I wouldn't be able to do anything if it was password-protected, like most people's laptops, but it would be helpful to the police if I pointed it out for them.
I searched the entire bedroom, but didn't find the laptop. It hadn't been downstairs, which left only the room with the body.
I reluctantly entered the room slowly. The pool of blood seemed like it had spread out from the body, but it could have been my imagination. I noted the current border with a disconnected sense of curiosity, the way an experienced investigator might view the scene. I took several pictures inside the room, including shots of the knitted doll near her hand, and the gun, which looked old and somewhat fancy, with inlaid mother-of-pearl. I avoided looking directly at the body as I backed out of the room and pulled the door closed.
I stood there, unable to walk away. I don't believe in ghosts, but I felt her presence. She'd given me the creeps at the pub, but first impressions weren't everything. The woman had been alive and now she wasn't, because something terrible had happened. I felt like I needed to say something, even if it was more for my benefit than Voula's.
"I'm sorry this happened to you," I said to the closed door. "I don't know what you planned to do in Misty Falls, but I'm sure it wasn't this. On behalf of the town, I'm sorry. Wherever you are, I hope you're at peace. We're going to find who did this to you."
As I finished my speech, the air in the house changed. A cold breeze rushed along the hallway, putting a chill up my spine and raising the hairs on my arms, even under my sweater and jacket.
My breath caught in my throat. Was it a ghost? Voula's spirit passing by me?
Something thumped downstairs. I pressed my back against the wall of the hallway and froze, waiting for more sounds.
Chapter 8
The thumps sounded again. It was a familiar sound, almost homey: snowy boots being stamped on the porch.
Someone rapped on the door loudly.
"Police!" A man's voice came through the door.
"Tony?" I squeaked.
"I'm going to break down the door!" The house trembled at the threat.
"Coming!" I warbled as I ran down the stairs and toward the door. "Coming! Hold your horses!" I sounded
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