Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music Read Online Free PDF Page A

her cheery outfit wasn't making her feel better, he turned to the work stacked on his desk.
    He called attorney Carl Lee Cashdollar's office and connected to voice mail. The message in Carl Lee's nasal twang indicated he and his staff were out of town and would the caller please leave a message. Knowing “the staff” was Carl Lee's wife, Tony called their home and received a similar recording. Tony did as requested, giving an array of telephone numbers and used the word “urgent” at least three times.
    After a few more calls to people he thought might have additional information, he learned the couple had gone to Hawaii on holiday but were expected to be back in the office on Monday.
    By the time he left for the day, he felt like he'd accomplished nothing at all.
    Tony loved Theo's shop. And also, or so he was told, did every quilter who ever went inside. Light and airy, the main room was filled with thousands of bolts of cotton fabrics arranged by color, and there was every color imaginable. He'd seen fabrics with flowers and rocks and oriental fabrics and even some with dancing frogs and baseball playing geckos. To one side of the room was a long counter covered with protective mats. After the bolts were selected, this is where the fabric was cut. Behind it was a wall covered with packets of needles, templates, rotary cutters and rulers, marking pens, hoops and other toys and tools for quilters. One whole corner of the room was dedicated to threads—cotton threads, metallic threads and glossy rayon threads.
    The man corner, just inside the front door, was reserved for husbands. A pair of comfortable chairs faced a television/DVD combination. A stack of sports magazines covered a small table. Tony had witnessed a couple of times the husband so involved in what he was watching, the wife had to wait for him.
    The back room was a quilter's haven. Designed as a classroom, it was large enough to hold ten big tables and still have plenty of space to move around. There were enough electrical outlets wired into the walls and floors to accommodate lots of sewing machines and irons. Built into one wall was a bay window with a large, comfortable window seat. There was a window in the wall shared with the shop so both groups could see what was going on. The other walls were covered with flannel, creating large design spaces. In the corner were a sink, a small refrigerator, and a counter that held a coffeepot.
    The regular patrons had their personal mugs hanging on hooks. Unless there was a class scheduled, a quilt on a frame always filled the center of the room. Various groups supplied the quilt tops and the finished quilts were usually given directly to the needy, sent to soldiers, or were raffled off to benefit a charity. Anyone who wished to work on the quilt could. The current quilt was going to be raffled to help pay for the restoration of the steeple on the oldest church in town. Tony knew that because a calendar hanging on the door listed the information
    He found Theo measuring and cutting fabric for a couple of young women. He thought their names were Susan and Melissa. The women didn't stop laughing and talking as they stacked more bolts on the table. Theo handed them each a sheet of paper. “You said you want to do the mystery quilt. Here is the first clue.” Picking up her rotary cutter again, she grinned at them. “If I don't give it to you now, I'll forget.”
    “When do we get the next clue?” Careful to hold the paper out of the reach of the toddler in her arms, the one he thought was Melissa began reading right away.
    “It's alright, Melissa, I'll take some up to the retreat on Friday, or you can pick one up here when you get back.”
    Tony was proud he'd guessed the woman's name.
    “This looks like fun.” The taller of the two, Susan, rocked a stroller and its passenger, a sleeping baby, as she read the paper. “I've never done a mystery quilt before.” She hesitated, nervously fingering the macaroni