Read Online Let it Sew by Elizabeth Lynn Casey - Free Book Online

once again.
    “You don’t have to wear boots at all, Twin.”
    Leona pinned Margaret Louise with a glare to end all glares. “Then what do you propose?”
    “Wear your fancy heels and resign yourself to gettin’ ’em dirty while we dig, or stay
     here and wait for us to tell you what happened.” Margaret Louise pulled her work gloves
     higher on her thick wrists and grabbed the series of shovels she’d propped against
     the wall of Tori’s office. “Tori . . . here’s your shovel. Jake says it’s a good one.”
    She swallowed against the lump that had taken up residence in her throat since the
     moment she saw Charlotte’s sketch, the possible implication of the crisscrossed sticks
     making her more than a little nauseous. “Did you tell Jake why you needed them?”
    “No. I figured there’d be time ’nough for that if we find somethin’.” Margaret Louise
     grabbed hold of her own shovel and gestured toward Leona. “So what’s it gonna be,
     Twin? You in or you out?”
    Leona hijacked her sister’s shovel and made her way toward the door, her shoulders
     squared beneath her teal-colored cardigan. “I’m just glad Paris is with Rose and Patches
     this evening. Something like this could give my sweet baby nightmares.”
    “We don’t know that we’re even going to find anything, Leona.” But even as she spoke
     the words aloud, she knew they were wrong. Charlotte Devereaux was the queen of details.
     If a brick was cracked, she drew it. If a window was broken, she included it. And
     while there were no actual sticks beside the tree when she returned to the library
     that afternoon, the likelihood they’d be there from one day to the next was essentially
     nil.
    The picnic tables outside the library were used by visiting school groups, reading
     senior citizens, and hungry library employees determined to get a little fresh air.
     The tree in question was beside the tables.
    “I don’t mean nightmares over what we’ll find,” Leona snapped. “I mean nightmares
     over seeing her mama dressed like this.” Leona motioned toward her getup with her
     non-shovel-holding hand. “I haven’t worn something like this since . . . since
never
.”
    Margaret Louise’s hearty laugh bounced off the walls of Tori’s office. “No one told
     you to wear a trench coat, Twin. Or a hat with a flashlight, either.”
    “I’m being prepared,” Leona protested.
    “Prepared for what exactly? A landslide?”
    “Oh, shut up, Margaret Louise!”
    It felt good to laugh even if the moment was short lived. “Ladies, ladies. Really.
     However you want to dress is fine.” Tori made her way over to the door and flicked
     off the overhead light. “With any luck, we’ll dig and find nothing.”
    She led the troops down the hallway and toward the library’s back door, the shovel
     from Margaret Louise’s son in one hand, Charlotte’s sketchbook in the other. She knew
     the marked spot well. In fact, the picnic table that resided beside it had been the
     sight of lunches with everyone from Margaret Louise and her granddaughter Lulu, to
     Milo and his mother. Its location provided shade in the summer as well as a bit of
     privacy from the curious eyes of passing pedestrians.
    “Maybe some kid put those sticks under the tree as part of some game right before
     Charlotte sat down to sketch. Did you ever think of that?” Leona posed as they exited
     the library and walked around the west side of the building.
    “I did. And I hope that’s the case.” She shone her handheld flashlight at the ground
     beneath their feet and continued on. “But I need to know for sure. Especially since
     the sticks are drawn quite differently than everything else in the picture, almost
     as if they were an afterthought added for effect.”
    “Does Milo know about this?”
    She winced as first Leona, and then Margaret Louise, ran into her from behind. “Victoria!
     Why did you stop?” Leona hissed. “You made me chip a