Hounds of the Basket Stitch by Anne Canadeo

Author:Anne Canadeo
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2019-09-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

“Well, gang, as Yogi Berra said, ‘It’s like déjà vu all over again.’ ” Suzanne pulled up in front of the Pipers’ house, parked the SUV, and shut off the engine. She pulled down the visor mirror to fluff her hairdo and freshen her lipstick, though there was no one joining them tonight to admire her appearance.

“Yogi was right, too.” Maggie climbed out of the backseat, where she had sat beside Phoebe. She grabbed two pans of food from the hatch—there was much less to carry tonight since she’d been determined to keep the meal simple—and headed up the path with her friends toward the Pipers’ house.

Exactly one week later, and here they were again. It did feel like déjà vu. A chilly wind tossed the branches above the rooftop, and the dogs inside barked and howled. The small lamp above the portico cast a yellow glow, and the front door slowly opened.

Except that Holly wasn’t standing in the doorway this time to welcome them. It was Dana and Rose. And though it appeared that they were visiting for another knitting session, their real objective was to search the house and the property for any clues the police may have missed. For any bits of evidence that proved Rose did not carry out such a cruel, heartless act.

Despite their serious purpose, or maybe because of it, the mood was upbeat and cheery.

“I heated the oven for you,” Dana said as Maggie and the others followed her into the kitchen.

Rose was at the table, setting it for six. The everyday china tonight, Maggie noticed, though she certainly didn’t mind.

She opened the oven door and slipped in the two trays she was carrying, then pulled off the foil covers.

“Is that pizza?” Maggie could tell from Rose’s tone that pizza was one of her favorite meals.

“Flatbread.” Maggie closed the oven and smiled at her. “Which is just a trendy word for the same thing.”

“You’re in luck, Rose. Maggie’s homemade flatbread is a culinary treat. You’ll never look at ordinary pizza the same,” Lucy warned.

While the flatbread heated, Dana tossed a green salad with some dressing she’d mixed earlier.

“Ta-dah!” Suzanne pulled two bottles of sparkling water from her knitting bag, as if arriving at a picnic with bottles of champagne. “I know it’s a no wine night, but a few bubbles couldn’t hurt.”

“Not at all. They might even help,” Maggie replied.

They had decided to forgo their usual bottle of wine with dinner. They needed to keep their wits sharp for the search, and it was a long drive back to the village. But sparkling water did make the meal more festive and might even spur some creative thinking. There were plenty of puzzles and baffling questions to answer.

Suzanne poured the sparkling water as if it was a fine vintage and Dana served the salad. The oven timer buzzed and Maggie peeked at her flatbreads, to check that they were ready.

“Here it is, hot from the oven.” Maggie cut through the crust with a sharp pizza wheel and set down the trays in the center of the table.

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