Crewel Yule Read Online Free PDF Page B

“Well, hardly ev-ER!”
    Betsy shut off the television and they went to bed.

Four

Saturday, December 15, 10:20 A.M.

    “She got me twice, Dave,” Kreinik said. He was a tall, trimly built man with a receding hairline of dark and coarse curly hair, owner of Kreinik Manufacturing, which made metallics, blending filaments, and other fibers for stitchers. “First, she placed an order for all the sizes and colors of my metallics, COD. No problem with her before, so we filled it. When it arrived, she asked the UPS man to wait a minute; then she went into a back room, opened the box, and took out the order and tossed in some trash, resealed the box, marked it ‘Refused,’ and gave it back to the UPS man. By the time we figured out what she’d done, she’d placed—and quote unquote refused —a big order for blending filaments with the same trick. Last time I talked to her, she tried to argue it was a mistake on my end. It was a mistake, all right, and it happened when we shipped her that second order.”
    “Who did you say this person is?” asked Dave Stott, a round-headed man with a short-cropped beard. He asked the question in a quiet voice, as they were in the Kreinik suite, and there were customers present. But he wanted to know. Dave was the owner of Norden Crafts and didn’t want to get caught by the same trickster.
    “Her name’s Belle Hammermill. She’s from Milwaukee, owns a store called Belle’s Samplers. You know her?”
    “Never heard of her.” Dave sounded relieved.
    “You want an introduction? She came to the Market.”
    Stott, a short-legged man on crutches, snorted in disbelief. “You’re kidding. She had to know Kreinik Manufacturing would have a suite here. What are you going to do, Doug?”
    “For one thing, I’m telling this story to every supplier I can get to. She’s going to find it damn hard in the future to place an order for other than cash in advance. But what I’d really like to do is confront her, call her a crook to her face. But a woman bold as that, who knows? She might punch me in the nose.”
    “Worse, she might—”
    A sharp yell interrupted the pair, and Kreinik, facing the door, lifted his eyes in time to see something—someone?—fall past his vision out in the atrium. There was a dreadful sound of impact on the floor six stories below.
    “What the devil?” exclaimed Dave, trying to turn too quickly on his crutches and nearly falling.
    “Someone’s gone over a railing!” Kreinik said as he pushed his way past Stott and headed for the gallery.
    But the shorter man was right behind him, and they arrived at the railing together. “My God!” Stott shouted. “It’s a woman! Oh, my God!”
    There were shouts and screams from all over as Kreinik leaned out over the railing. “Holy cow!” He leaned a bit farther out, brushing against Dave, who could feel him trembling. “Who is it? Can you tell?” he asked.
    “No.” Dave leaned back awkwardly to look up. “Where was she standing?” The railings upward were dotted with staring faces—not many, because almost all the buyers and sellers were on the sixth floor or lower. The two men were on six. There were none at all on the top floor right above her.
    Kreinik grabbed the railing and shook it hard, but it was firmly attached. It was higher than his waist. His face was pale with shock, but his voice was calm as he remarked, “She must’ve been tall.”
    Stott wasn’t tall, but he backed away one step before looking down at the people rushing to the railings on the lower floors. They were shouting and pointing, the great hollow space was filled with noise. And far below was a body, now surrounded by spectators. He looked away and said, trying to emulate Kreinik’s apparent calm, “What—was she looking at something?”
    Kreinik looked up, then shrugged. “I don’t know. But it must have been an accident.” He looked at Dave. “You going down?”
    “Uh, no. In fact, I better get back to my place, make