Muffins & Murder (Sweet Bites Book 3) (Sweet Bites Mysteries) by Heather Justesen Page B

in quilt guild has used the fabric, then?”
    “Yes.” She seemed to agree that this might be a problem. “Maybe another pattern would be a better choice for you. There’s a lovely one they just got in.”
    “I’ll check it out. Thanks.” Half the guild had table runners using that fabric. That was a dead end. I turned to Kat. “Do you think you have the hang of it?”
    “Yes, no problem.” She turned to Mary Ellen. “I won’t have time to do this until after Lenny and I get back, but I’ll bring my blocks by when I finish so you can see them.”
    “I’d like that.” Mary Ellen smiled for the first time since we arrived. “I’ll see you Saturday at the reception. I hope everything goes perfectly for you between now and then.”
    We stood and Kat slid her supplies into her bag.
    “You missed out on some yummy cookies tonight,” I said. “Stop by sometime this week and I’ll find something yummy to take its place. On me.” I didn’t think she was responsible, but I did want to mull over what she said and then have another chance to talk to her.
    “I’ll do that.” Mary Ellen walked us to the door and called goodbye as we headed away.
    We reciprocated and she closed herself back in her home.
    “What do you think?” I asked Kat.
    She looked at me with disbelief. “What was the deal about the fabric? That wouldn’t match your spare room at all.”
    I pursed my lips for a moment. “I recognized it from the thing Francine had wrapped around her neck,” I explained. “The pattern’s pretty distinctive.”
    “By that, you mean ugly . I’m glad you were fishing for information on the pattern and not really serious about having curtains made out of it. It was fine to use small pieces in a quilt block, but a big piece would be something else entirely.”
    “Yeah, but the fact that it was used for two guild projects makes it harder to cut down the number of people who might have killed Francine. If she did a dozen or more kits with it last winter, it could have come from anywhere—and that’s assuming it was a table runner that was used to kill her and not something else.” I was discouraged. Everywhere I turned I was finding dead ends—unless Cole was the killer. It was looking more and more likely everyday. I wondered who made the murder weapon. Had it been Francine’s?
    “But Mary Ellen didn’t show us her table runner,” Kat said. “Maybe hers was the murder weapon.”
    I considered that. “Or maybe she didn’t make one. I wonder when the controversy about the quilt patterns started. If it was before Thanksgiving, Mary Ellen might have avoided making the block because Francine put it together. Or maybe she was working on another project at the time, so she didn’t want to add something more.”
    Kat didn’t say anything while I opened the door to my Outlander. Once we were seated, she said, “You should ask the treasurer if she has records. When I bought the kit for today’s project, she was the one who tracked the money.”
    “You’re so smart.” I slid the key into the ignition. “I’m glad to have you on my team.”
    “I’m glad to be part of your team. I’ve never been part of a team before.” Kat beamed back at me. “I have a feeling Team Crawford will always come out ahead.”
    “You mean Team Tess.” I chuckled and set the vehicle in drive. It had been a good day’s investigating. Now to figure out where else to look. Cole’s alibi was fake and there had to be other angles I wasn’t considering.
     

 
    Tingey came into the shop a little before noon the next day, his brows low over his eyes, and his forehead furrowed in a grim line. The place was empty except for Esther Lawson, a sweet, almost deaf woman who had been friends with Grandma.
    “What can I do for you today?” I asked, hoping he had worthwhile news to share. They had to have learned something by now, didn’t they?
    “The usual. And three extra cinnamon rolls. I’ve been at Silver Lake since