A Patchwork of Clues by Sally Goldenbaum


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A Patchwork

A Patchwork of Clues by Sally Goldenbaum (Queen Bees Quilt Shop #1)
English | 2019 | Mystery/Thriller | ePUB | 1.4 Mb

A Patchwork : Small-town quilters look for a killer’s pattern in this delightful new series by the national bestselling author of the Seaside Knitters mysteries . . .

On her morning jog, Portia Paltrow comes upon the dead body of antiques store owner and college professor Owen Hill, sprawled across the back doorstep of Selma Parker’s fabric and quilt shop on Elderberry Road. The site of their Saturday morning quilting bee just became a crime scene. Violent crime is rare in the charming village of Crestwood, Kansas, and rumors are soon circulating of a burglary gone wrong. But who would rob a quilt shop? No, Owen Hill has been murdered.

Selma and her assistant manager Susan are understandably at loose ends over the crime. So while the tightly knit covey of quilters—who range from a new mother to a wise octogenarian—work together on a Crystal Pattern quilt for Selma’s store’s anniversary, they also get busy stitching together a patchwork of clues. But they’d better work fast—before a crafty killer bolts . . .

“Rumors at the hair salon Po frequented, a modest place on the other side of the road, insinuated that Owen Hill and two other directors of the Elderberry Shop Owners Corporation had come down hard on Daisy, telling her to shape up and fix up the front of her shop or face fines. In a rage, Daisy had thrown a pot of mums at Owen’s fancy sports car.

An anger management course was definitely in order, some said. Po considered it a reasonable suggestion. But eccentricities and angry outbursts aside, Daisy never let her Saturday morning customers down. She promised them the finest flowers and plants in Crestwood for weekend parties and weddings and special events, and she always came through for them.

Po walked up to the back door, then checked a small parking area to see if Daisy’s truck was hidden by the trash container. Nothing. She felt a slight twinge, then dismissed it immediately.

How had she allowed a peaceful run to turn into irrational worries about things that were none of her business?

But as foolish as her thoughts were, they remained lodged in her head, niggling at her as she jogged on, beyond the wine and cheese shop, the bookstore.

Even the site of her dear friend Selma Parker’s fabric and quilt shop, a roomy old store that anchored the far end of the block, didn’t dismiss the sense that something wasn’t right on Elderberry Road.

Po wiped one hand across her forehead, banishing the moisture that had no right being there, considering it had taken her ten minutes to travel the length of a short alley block. Not exactly cardiac-worthy.”

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