A Stitch in Crime Read Online Free PDF Page B

out a big sigh. “If CeeCee Collins had talked to me, I never would have agreed to let Bennett step in for her, but she went directly to him.”
    I covered up my own surprise at the place and tried to smooth things over. “Maybe it isn’t what you expected, but why not give it some time? Even the food might turn out better than you expect.” It didn’t work, and she walked off with an exasperated huff sound.
    While we waited to check in, Adele Abrams walked in. Walked isn’t quite the right word. Marched is better. With her khaki culottes, matching camp shirt, and brown ankle boots she looked like Smokey Bear’s sister. She had finished off the outfit with a wide-brimmed ranger hat that she said was authentic, proudly showing us the crease on the top that was meant to let falling acorns roll off. Sheila Altman was with her and had a stunned look. Who could blame her? She had just spent six hours or more driving with Adele.
    Once we all had our keys, Adele wanted to show us around. “Pink, if you’re going to be in charge, you ought to know what’s what.” She turned back and looked at our feet. “I hope you all have good walking shoes.” Adele walked backward, facing the three of us, as she gave the background of the place.
    The layout and camplike feeling began to make sense when she explained that Asilomar was originally built as a YWCA camp. “The grounds are spread over a hundred acres,” she said, turning before leading us up a hilly walkway bordered by golden wild grass. “The area we’re staying in and using for the retreat is part of the historic core.” Adele pointed to several two-story buildings with weathered wooden shingles that had large nameplates identifying them as Lodge and Scripps, and said that was where our group was being housed.
    The air was certainly bracing, and I’d read somewhere that this kind of climate was conducive to creative thoughts, but something about the place seemed moody and brooding. Maybe it was the gloomy sky and the fog drifting in. Or all the brown wooden buildings that seemed dark and forbidding. It didn’t help that Commander Blaine kept repeating that we were on a little piece of land at the end of the continent jutting out into the ocean, and the waves were huge and rough.
    Even the stately Monterey pines were a scruffy dark green. And the cypress trees with their gnarled trunks and horizontal foliage reminded me of bent old men with wind-blown hair, trying to run away. I looked at Dinah and had the feeling she shared my reaction.
    “Maybe when there are more people here, it’ll seem a little more cheerful,” she said, then leaned closer. “I bet if you sat around telling ghost stories, a real one might show up.”
    “I heard that,” Adele said. “You two are nuts. Asilomar is wonderful.”
    By now we’d made a full circle and were back at the administration building. Commander turned toward the plant-covered sand dunes nestled against the property and was about to say something, but Adele beat him to the punch.
    “There’s a boardwalk over there that goes through the dunes to the street. The beach is across the street.”
    “Maybe we should show it to them now,” Commander suggested.
    “No,” Adele said firmly. “Pink needs to know where the locations for the retreat are, like the Crocker Dining Hall.” Adele indicated a building with a covered entryway and lots of tall windows that was just down the walkway.
    “They ring the bell on top of the administration building to announce mealtimes,” Commander added. Adele pointed out a few other small buildings where our workshops were going to be held, and then it seemed like the end of our tour. As Dinah and I left them, Commander added that Asilomar meant refuge by the sea .
    Dinah and I picked up our bags in the administration building and headed outside. Commander said he would catch up with us—I think he really meant Dinah—later, and went with Adele to get some things she’d brought for