A Stitch in Crime Read Online Free PDF Page A

figured it was me, even though the page was for Polly Mink.
    If the Franklyns noticed we’d been on the plane with them, they didn’t show it as I approached and introduced myself with the correct name.
    “You can tell the driver to pick up our bags. We’ll just go directly to the car,” Nora said, glancing around. I had to explain there wasn’t a driver, and said I’d help them get a cab. Nora appeared exasperated at my suggestion. “I don’t suppose you arranged for a rental car, either?” As soon as she saw the negative shake of my head, she let out a hopeless groan and gestured for Bennett to follow her as they headed toward the rental car counter.
    “That went well,” Dinah said with a roll of her eyes.
    “Too bad CeeCee had to cancel. She would have gone along with us in a cab,” I said, my shoulders sagging. “What have I gotten myself into?”
    Dinah tried to reassure me. “Once they get to the conference center, they’ll be fine. You’ll see.”
    We got our bags and headed through the door to the short line of cabs that stood waiting. A fellow passenger followed us outside. “Did I hear someone call you Polly Pink?” the silver-haired man asked me. I nodded with an uncertain smile. Now what, I wondered as he held out his hand.
    “Commander Blaine,” he said in an upbeat voice, introducing himself as he shook my hand. He’d caught me off guard, and I struggled to place the name.
    “Pamela Shedd called me and told me you’d be taking over for her,” he said to me, but his gaze kept darting toward Dinah and I wondered if he even heard me give my correct name. “And you are?” he said to her. He couldn’t have been more obvious with his interest. If I was a person who believed in love at first sight, that would have been it.
    Dinah was divorced and had been trying to meet someone forever. So far she’d met nothing but duds. I wasn’t sure if Commander was his first name, a nickname, or his title, but he appeared a lot more promising than any of the guys she’d described to me. I expected her to pick up on the way his gaze stayed on her and at least smile. Instead, she looked away in a dismissive manner.
    Dinah was somewhere in her fifties, though the exact place was a deeply held secret even I, her best friend, didn’t know. After all the wild-goose chases and murder investigations we’d been through, you’d think she would have trusted that I wouldn’t judge her by her age, but she still wouldn’t tell. Dinah is a bundle of energy, and even though I’d just met Commander Blaine, he seemed to have a similar enthusiastic attitude. So why did she seem to be ignoring him?
    Not that Dinah’s reaction dampened Commander Blaine’s enthusiasm as he suggested we share a cab. He seemed to pick up on my confusion of how to address him. “You can just call me Commander,” he said, “and I’ll call you Molly.” He turned toward Dinah, and for a moment I thought he was going to say he’d call her Sweetheart or something like it, which I knew wouldn’t have gone over well with her. Luckily, he used her first name and said everyone was informal at the retreats. Apparently even Mrs. Shedd had always gone by her first name. He looked up at the blue sky. “Beautiful here, isn’t it? Smell that air.”
    Actually I was a little surprised at the bright sun and warm temperature, but he told me the airport was inland and to wait until we got on the other side of the mountains. “You’ll get plenty of misty, cool air then.”
    We caught our cab and in a few moments were on our way. Whoever said men don’t talk much apparently hadn’t met Commander Blaine. He leaned over the front seat and for the whole ride kept a running commentary about the workshop he was responsible for.
    “I’ve been coming to the creative weekend for the past three years,” he said as we drove along the twisty road that led between the mountains. “Pamela saw the column I write in the Tarzana Gazette about