The Package Read online

  “Does anyone even remember if someone named Joan ever lived in Stony Point?” Peggy turned her hand sideways while she stitched, revealing red fingernails with pink flowers on them.

  Mary Beth joined the group, perching herself on a chair arm.

  “There was Joan who lived on Kroger Street. She owned that ugly green car that backfired all the time,” Kate said.

  Gwendolyn peered over her half-glasses. “That lady’s name was Jo Ann.”

  Kate put fingers to her lips. “Oh, you are right.”

  Mary Beth combed her fingers through her short salt-and-pepper hair. “You know, when my mother was up at Seaside Hills Assisted Living, I remember meeting a woman named Joan. A real sweet lady. We chatted quite a bit about knitting.”

  “I know who you are talking about,” said Kate. “She comes into the store with a group of women from Seaside Hills.”

  “I’ll have to look into that.” Annie twisted a piece of yellow yarn around her crochet hook. Yesterday she had been uncertain of what first steps she could take to return the stock to its owner, and now she had two ideas. “You ladies should open a detective agency.”

  “Yes, we could call it the Hook and Needle and Dagger Detective Agency.” Alice raised her hands theatrically.

  All of the women laughed.

  Annie reached into her bag. “I brought one of the certificates for everyone to see.” She passed the stock around.

  Mary Beth rested her hands on her thighs. “Now that I have all of you ladies together, I have a bit of news of my own.” She offered Kate a knowing glance. “It’s a proposal actually.”

  Kate jumped in. “Mary Beth has been teaching a teen quilting class for some time now.”

  “The girls have just completed their big project, and the class is coming to a close.” Mary Beth paused for dramatic effect. “Four of the girls have expressed interest in learning more needlecrafts.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful,” Gwen said, finally taking her knitting needles out of a bag.

  “Young ladies these days would do well to learn a needlecraft.” Stella drew her eyebrows together to emphasize the seriousness of her comment.

  “So how do we fit in?” Annie had a sense of where Mary Beth was heading.

  “I just wanted to throw the opportunity out to the Hook and Needle Club—to come in for a session and teach your specialty. Even if it’s a week when we don’t do your specialty, you can join in and assist.”

  Annie’s heart leapt. “That sounds like fun.”

  “I’m in,” said Alice.

  Gwendolyn nodded.

  Peggy lowered her handwork. “What day is it?”

  “We have been meeting on Wednesdays after school.”

  “I would love to help.” Disappointment clouded Peggy’s features. “But my boss already gives me a long lunch on Tuesday so I can come to the Hook and Needle Club. I don’t think I can request more time off.”

  “We’ll find a way to get you involved, Peggy.” Annie offered as she patted Peggy’s hand. “We might be able to get together for an evening once in a while.”

  Peggy brightened.

  The women all looked toward Stella.

  Without dropping a stitch, Stella said, “I think the Historical Society has some meeting planned for Wednesday.”

  “I’m hoping to get Vanessa involved again. She helped out with the class we did earlier, but then she lost interest.” A note of sadness entered Kate’s voice. “Sometimes I feel like we are drifting apart.”

  “She’s just a teenager, Kate. You know how they are.” Annie hoped her words sounded comforting to Kate. Her own daughter, LeeAnn, was grown with twins of her own, but she remembered wondering if she and LeeAnn would ever get through those teen years.

  “Crocheting has been almost like therapy for me. If I could spark Vanessa’s interest, I think it might bring us closer.” Though Kate seemed to be mending, her divorce had taken its toll.

  “That’s a wonderful idea.” Alice leaned closer to Kate.

  “We’ll get that girl coming to classes,” Gwen added.

  The corner of Kate’s mouth turned up in a faint smile. Annie had to hand it to the Hook and Needle Club. More than once, they had lifted her spirits with their supportive nature.

  Mary Beth rose from her chair. “That’s enough of a commitment for me to go ahead. Our first meeting is tomorrow.”

  The bell on the door dinged and a customer stepped in.

  “I can get this one,” Kate said to Mary Beth before scurrying over to the middle-aged woman.

  “I can’t wait for classes to start,” said Alice.

  Mary Beth rose to her feet. “One thing I need to tell you ladies. Some of these girls are very well-mannered and some are … well … diamonds in the rough.”

  “I still can’t wait,” Alice added with enthusiasm.

  The women finished up the meeting, chatting about upcoming events at church and in town, and working on their projects. When Annie checked her watch, an hour had flown by. As the members drifted out of the store and back to their separate lives, Annie’s heart swelled with anticipation. Gram had taken the time to teach her to crochet, and it had been one of the sweetest gifts she’d ever received. The thought of being able to pass the gift on to another young lady put lightness in Annie’s step as she headed out the door to the bank to talk to Gwen’s husband about the stock certificates.

  3

  The Stony Point Savings Bank was situated on Main Street, three buildings down from A Stitch in Time. Annie walked past The Cup & Saucer, where Peggy was already back at work. She passed the public library and pushed open the doors of the bank. John Palmer was seated behind his desk, talking with an older woman dressed in a bright red coat.

  John made eye contact with Annie. He waved as though he was expecting her. Gwen might have called ahead.

  He passed a single sheet of paper across the desk to the older woman, stood up and leaned over his desk to point out several things to her, and then excused himself while the woman filled out what must have been an application of some sort.

  John tugged on his tie as he approached Annie.

  “Did Gwen call you?”

  “She filled me in,” John said.

  “I brought one of the certificates.” She pulled her purse out of the tote where she kept her crocheting and then pulled out the padded envelope in which she had carefully placed one of the stock certificates. “I counted the certificates. There are fifty of them.”

  John examined the paper. “So someone bought fifty shares of Ocean Side Partners LLC.”

  “Do you know who they are?”

  “I can tell you they never got a loan through this bank or incorporated in this town. Ocean Side Partners could be in another town or another state.”

  Annie fought off the desire to give into defeat. This was only her first stop. “So you don’t know what kind of business they are?”

  John shook his head.

  Annie tensed. Now came the big question. “Why would someone named Joan have Therese’s stock certificates? Did she steal them?”

  “I doubt it. These days most stock purchases are all done electronically. The only reason to do the fancy-paper stock certificate would be because it was intended as a gift or maybe this Therese person wanted something concrete for repayment of a debt.”

  Annie breathed a sigh of relief. Of course Gram wouldn’t have been party to a theft. She kicked herself mentally for even allowing the thought into her head. “So maybe Joan bought the stock intending to give it to Therese?”

  The woman in the red raincoat rose from her chair and made her way toward John. “I’ve got to take care of this customer.” He offered the customer a smile and then turned back toward Annie. “I wish you luck with your search.”

  Annie carefully placed the stock back in the envelope. When she stepped out onto Main Street, the gathering dark clouds promised rain. Alice had said that spring in Maine usually meant lots of rain and thunderstorms; so far
they had been very lucky with weather. Maybe their luck wouldn’t hold any longer.

  Annie zipped up her light jacket and headed across the street to Malone’s Hardware. Wally had suggested she go in to see what was available to stain the new shelving in the library. When Annie stepped into the store, Mike was in the process of pricing terra-cotta planters, looking as fit as ever for a man in his fifties.

  “Hey there.” He waved his pricing gun at her.

  “Wally wants me to make a decision about what kind of stain to put on that shelving in my library.”

  Mike ran his hands through thinning hair. “I set aside some samples for you.” He sauntered over to the checkout and grabbed a stack of 2-inch wood samples bound together, each with a different kind of stain.

  She filed through the samples. The stains ranged from almost translucent, allowing the natural grain of the wood to come through, to dark. It was a small decision, but sometimes she felt there were just too many choices. “Well … um.”

  Mike’s thin mustache twitched. “If you are anything like my Fiona, you can’t make a decision on the spot. Take the samples home and think about it.”

  “Thanks. You read my mind.” She stuffed the samples in her tote.

  When she stepped outside, the streets that had been bustling with people were virtually abandoned. Only a few lost souls scurried to get out of the rain—some with umbrellas and others shielding themselves with newspapers or whatever was at hand. This wasn’t like the dry weather in Texas. She needed to get into the habit of bringing an umbrella with her.

  Even though she tried to stay under the awnings that some of the downtown businesses provided, she was soaked by the time she got back to A Stitch in Time where she had parked her car.

  A warm glow came from inside Mary Beth’s store. Kate looked up from the receipts she was sorting and waved at Annie.

  Wet and a little chilled, Annie slipped behind the wheel of her Malibu and headed back to Grey Gables. Her windshield wipers squeaked out a rhythmic pattern as she made her way down the hill. She pulled into the driveway. After grabbing her bag, she ran up the driveway to the porch. Boots was perched on the doormat. The cat let out a plaintive cry, complaining of the inconvenience she had been through.

  Annie stopped. Something was wrong here. Boots had been resting on a pillow on the couch when she left this morning. Her heartbeat accelerated as she checked her front door. Still locked.

  “How did you get outside?”

  Annie gathered the forlorn-looking feline into her arms. Balancing cat, keys, and bag, she managed to get the door open. Boots sprang out of her hands and trotted past the dining room into the kitchen to her food dish.

  She set her bag on the counter and put the kettle on. Tea would warm her up. Except for the crunching sounds of Boots filling her belly, the house was still.

  All the same, a tingling started at the back of Annie’s neck and snaked down her back. She shivered.

  She checked the back door. It was still locked as well. When she surveyed the living room and dining room, nothing looked out of place. Her chest felt tight. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been in her house.

  She raced up the stairs. The few pieces of valuable jewelry were still in the cedar box Wayne had given her on their first wedding anniversary. The money she kept on her nightstand, a few dollars and a china cup filled with loose change, had not been touched.

  Carefully she opened the bureau drawer and made sure the stock certificates were still underneath the sweaters where she had left them.

  She stood for a moment, lost in thought.

  The whistling teakettle made her jump.

  She ran back down the stairs and pulled the kettle off the burner. Boots had settled on her plush cat bed in the kitchen.

  While the tea steeped, Annie checked the desk drawers in the living room. She couldn’t remember the arrangement of paper clips and receipts, but nothing looked out of place. Still uneasy, she wandered into the kitchen to get her tea and then back to the front room.

  Annie sipped her tea and stared out at the ocean view. Waves crashed against rock. Only a single brave fishing boat remained on the tumultuous water. This storm was probably going to last into the evening. It would be a perfect day to sit in her plush chair and get started on her crochet project. While she worked, she could think through how she would instruct the teen girls tomorrow.

  She turned back around to face the quiet living room. Again, the tingling started at the nape of her neck.

  She needed to let go of the idea that someone had been in her house. Maybe it was just the thought of mice scurrying through her walls that made her feel she wasn’t alone.

  She inhaled the steam rising from her teacup and then sipped. The minty flavor lingered on her tongue.

  The only problem with the explanation for her uneasiness was that mice usually didn’t open the door and let the cat out.

  4

  The next morning the rain had let up, but everything, including the flowers Annie had planted, was damp and battered. The poor little violets looked like they’d taken a beating. Maybe they would recover. The lawn, which had just started to turn green, was saturated and muddy. She wouldn’t be going outside today to work on the yard.

  The sound of the rain spattering against roof and windows had helped her fall asleep the night before. Old houses had a life of their own. Annie had grown used to creaking sounds and the sudden blast and tingling of pipes as the heater kicked on. The rain, though, had acted like a lullaby that drowned out any possibility of hearing mouse noises.

  She spent the morning organizing bills for the construction and repair supplies Wally had purchased. When she got a chance, she’d take them down to Malone’s. After straightening up the house, she sat down at her desk in the living room to look through decorating magazines for ideas. The lights blinked off and on. Before she could even think about the library, this electrical problem needed to be dealt with. The mice must be chewing on wires that connected into certain rooms, because it was never the whole house that went dark.

  She called Wally to verify that he would be able to come by later to finish fixing the electrical problem in the attic and discuss what she had planned for the library. Wally said that he had a job that would take most of the day, but that he could swing by before he went home. At two o’clock, she put on a slow-cooker meal of chicken stew with dumplings and ate a late lunch. She called Alice to see if she would be around to go to A Stitch in Time for the afternoon class.

  Alice’s chirpy voice vibrated across the phone line. “I am knee-deep in doing orders for Divine Décor, but I am still planning on coming. I’ll pick you up.”

  Annie changed out of the jogging suit she’d worn through the morning and put on a skirt in a bright spring pattern, a camisole, and a matching lacy cardigan she had crocheted. She touched the lightweight cotton yarn on the sleeve. The cardigan, a series of crocheted flowers, had been one of her most successful projects. It was so very different from Kate’s heavy jackets. Maybe wearing it would inspire the girls about what they could do with a crochet hook and a little imagination. She ran a comb through her blond-gray hair, selected a pair of green earrings to match her eyes, and applied some lip gloss and mascara.

  By the time she got back downstairs, the kitchen was swirling with the scent of basil, rosemary, and tarragon from the slow cooker.

  Annie slipped an umbrella into her bag just as the doorbell rang. Alice looked fresh and springy in her purple raincoat. As they drove into town, Annie felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety. She remembered Mary Beth’s warning that some of the girls were diamonds in the rough. Though she had never thought of herself as a teacher, she liked the idea of getting a young person excited about crocheting.

  When Annie and Alice stepped into the store, Kate was behind the counter. Two middle-aged women pulled out bolts of fabric and draped them over their shoulders.

  Mary Beth, sitting at the front of the store with three girls, of
fered Annie a little wave.

  Annie’s stomach flip-flopped. Ready or not, it was time for the lesson. She stalled by talking to Kate. “Did Vanessa come?”

  Kate shook her head. “She said she would come for the knitting lesson. She’s always said that she likes that I crochet.” Kate dropped her gaze. “I think she’s intimidated by the projects she’s seen me do. I wouldn’t expect her to crochet like a pro off the bat.”

  Annie patted Kate’s hand. “She’ll come around. You are going to be a part of the lesson, aren’t you? You are the most gifted crocheter I know.”

  Kate smiled and tilted her head toward the two women picking out fabric. “I’ll join you as soon as I can.”

  Annie’s nerves kicked into high gear at the thought of having to do the lesson by herself. She hoped the store wouldn’t be too busy and Kate could help.

  “Let’s go.” Alice urged Annie on.

  The phone rang, and Kate walked to the counter to get it.

  Now the butterflies in Annie’s tummy were going crazy. She glanced at the three girls. A petite blonde sprang to her feet. She held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Lily, and I already know how to crochet.”

  “Then you can help the other girls,” Mary Beth suggested. A tinge of tension threaded through her voice.

  Lily lifted her chin slightly. “If they let me help them.” Precise French braids framed Lily’s narrow face.

  Kate joined the group but didn’t sit down. “Gwen just called. John sprang a last-minute dinner party on her for some important bank customers, so she has to get ready for that. She felt bad, but she promised she would do everything she could to be here for the other lessons.” Kate returned to helping customers.

  Great, now it’s just me and Alice.

  A girl in a cheerleading uniform let out a huff of air, crossed her arms, and looked at the ceiling.

  “This is Mackenzie.” Mary Beth put her hands together in an gesture of ambiguity.

  Mackenzie’s wavy brown hair fell softly around her heart-shaped face. She was a pretty girl with bright brown eyes and clear skin.