A Stitch in Crime by Ann Yost

Author:Ann Yost
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gale, Cengage Learning
Published: 2015-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Ignatius Holomo, Red Jacket’s oldest living inhabitant for as long as I could remember, had finally given up his title and was, as Pops put it, “heading to the marble orchard.”

I walked over to Makis’ with my parents and Sofi to pay my respects. Everyone in town was there, too, queued up to file past the coffin while Miss Irene played Sibelius’s “Be Still My Soul” on the Makis’ upright, the way she does for all our funerals. The scent of roses was strong, and I felt the familiar discomfort. I am not a fan of funerals in general, and my least favorite part is the “viewing of the body.” As a child, I’d developed the trick of focusing on a corner of the raised coffin lid, thereby avoiding a face-to-face with the deceased. But now I was an adult, and conscience interfered. I forced my gaze to Ignatius’s grizzled face, intending to offer him a silent “R.I.P.,” but the silence was broken by a series of short, sharp shrieks. It took a minute to realize they were coming from me. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard that it hurt, and I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. And then I woke. There was a suffocating weight on my chest and a gentle voice in my ear.

“You’re all right, honey. It was just a bad dream.”

Jace’s voice. For a moment I was confused again. Was I awake, or was this a dream? Had the nightmare of my separation been a dream, or had it been real? I struggled with the question just as I struggled to get enough air. And then the weight lifted, but I could feel his heat hovering above my body, and I could feel his fingers on my face.

“Dreaming about the murder?”

“I was at a funeral,” I said, remembering the countless times I’d bored him with a recitation of my dreams. “Ignatius Holomo finally died. But when I looked into the coffin, it was you.”

He chuckled almost silently.

“That was probably just wishful thinking.”

His fingers drew a line down my cheek, and then I felt his lips against mine. It was a chaste kiss, sweet and comforting, and I wanted to cry. That impulse, thank goodness, was checked when the cabin door opened, letting in a blast of snow and cold, and a powerful flashlight made me shut my eyes. I heard Jace’s curse and felt his withdrawal as the newcomer spoke.

“Well, damn, big brother. I thought you’d come up here to rescue me.”

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