Tapestry of Lies: A Weaving Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page A

imitation of sorrow—what a ham.
    Jenny laughed. “Anytime you’re hungry, big boy, come and see me.” She threw me a teasing look and headed to the back.
    •   •   •
    The day flew by with a steady stream of customers. Most of them were clients of Jenny’s, but a few paused at my displays on their way in or out. In some cases those pauses translated into sales, and those customers left swinging a bag from my shop in their hands.
    Jenny sneaked over during one of the lulls. “How’s Winnie doing?”
    I glanced at the dog snoring behind my counter. “I swear that dog sleeps all the time. He wakes up only when there’s food.”
    To prove my point, at the word “food,” Winston’s ears perked up and he jumped to his feet, instantly alert. “Go back to sleep, Winnie,” I said. He glanced at me with a wounded look and then dropped onto his cushion. A second later, he was snoring again.
    “Guess what,” I told Jenny. “I had a couple of your clients stop by. I must have had four or five extra sales that way.”
    “That’s great. I know some of my new customers came in after being attracted by your displays.” She smiled. “Isn’t that what I predicted?”
    When Jenny had first approached me with the idea of renting a part of my shop space, her sales pitch had been that sharing the space would help increase our sales. “It seems to be working. I’m already seeing a slow but steady increase in my business. If it continues to improve this way, perhaps it won’t be long before I have a little left over after covering my overhead.”
    She gave me a confident smile. “Your shop will do great. I just know it. The weaving classes you advertised for October will bring some new students. And I bet your ads will attract new suppliers and clients too.”
    I crossed my fingers. “That’s what I’m counting on.”
    Jenny returned to her shop to tidy up before closing, and I prepared my deposit for the day. Running a craft shop was sometimes frustrating. Apart from making beautiful display windows, advertising in the local media and offering classes, there wasn’t much I could do to attract new clients. There were days when all I seemed to do was watch the door, hoping for customers to show up. Today I felt reenergized. If I was lucky enough to pick up that weaving contract from Bunny Boyd, it would bring in enough income to keep my business financially healthy for a long time. I closed my sales book, tallied the daily sales and placed the cash in a night deposit bag.
    “Come, Winnie,” I called, picking up his leash. “Want to go for a walk?”
    He instantly hopped off the mat and galloped over. I clipped on his leash, called out, “See you tomorrow,” to Jenny in the back, and we took off. Soon we were strolling along Main Street on our way to the bank. Or rather, I was struggling and Winnie was pulling with all his might.
    “Will you please slow down, Winnie? I’m wearing heels, in case you haven’t noticed.”
    He threw me a backward glance that told me he didn’t feel the least bit sorry for me. If anything, he marched on even faster, the brat.
    It was late afternoon—almost dinnertime. The street was quiet. The sun was descending behind the mountain, painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold. At times like this, I knew that moving to Briar Hollow had been the best decision I had ever made. Rich or not, I was happy here.
    •   •   •
    The next morning, I opened my shop hoping for another day of brisk business. I was not disappointed. Within two hours of opening, I was already out of place mats, and when yet another customer requested some, I had to pull out a set from the window display. But from lunchtime on, business slowed, and from two o’clock on, not a single soul crossed the threshold.
    Jenny came forward, pulling off her apron. “Wouldn’t you know it? I’ve made three fresh pots of coffee, every one of which I had to throw out. Not a single person has come in all