Stitch Me Deadly by Amanda Lee

unintentional double entendre made me blush and made him laugh.
    “He said his name was Devon Reed,” Mom said, “and he was driving a silver Lexus LFA.”
    Ted gave a low whistle. “Maybe I should get into freelancing.”
    “Or the con man game,” Mom said.
    “What makes you think this man was following you?” Ted asked.
    “We saw him at the prison, and then—”
    “The prison?” Ted interrupted. He hated it when I went to the prison.
    “Yes,” I said. “Riley asked me to go up to the prison and visit her dad. She said he’s been really down lately. I showed him the christening gown I embroidered for Riley’s baby, and it made him cry.”
    “Anyway, the prison is where I first saw this so-called Devon Reed,” Mom said. “He was parked across the street and was standing outside his car when we arrived.”
    “So he was at the prison when you got there,” Ted repeated.
    “Exactly,” I said. “Which means he couldn’t possibly have followed us to the prison.” I shot Mom a triumphant glance, but she merely rolled her eyes.
    “But when we stopped for dinner forty miles away, he was there, too,” Mom said.
    “I think it’s just a stroke of serendipity,” I said.
    “Maybe,” Ted said. “But I will check up on this guy to see if he’s legitimate.”
    “Thank you,” Mom said.
     
     
    After Ted left, I sat at the counter and got to work on Riley’s burp cloth. It was cute. It had pink, blue, and yellow blocks around all four borders, and upon completion there would be fringe around the edges. I would have liked to work on the Boulevard of Broken Dreams piece, but I couldn’t do that while Mom was visiting, since it was to be her birthday gift.
    Mom took Angus for a walk. While they were gone, Ella Redmond came into the shop. She looked more cheerful than she had on the other occasions that I’d seen her. Rather than black or drab gray clothing, she was wearing jeans and a light blue sweater that played up her blue eyes.
    “Hey, Ella. What brings you by this morning?”
    “I’m looking for some ribbon,” she said. “I’d like either a pretty floral or maybe a single-color pastel.”
    I put my work down and led her to where the spools of ribbon were displayed. “What type of project is this for?”
    “My mother gave me an eyelet table runner that has a ribbon trim around it. The ribbon has become really frayed, and I want to replace it.”
    I picked out some thin ribbons I thought could be easily worked through the eyelet. “In pastels, I have this lovely pink, a seafoam, a lemon, and a peach that would be thin enough to thread through eyelet. And here are some florals. I particularly like this one with the violets.”
    “Oh, I like the violets, too,” Ella said. “I think I’ll take that one.”
    We went back to the counter. As I rang up her purchase, Ella looked at the burp cloth.
    “This is sweet,” she said.
    I laughed. “I’ve done so many sweet projects for Riley’s baby, I’m afraid they’re going to give me cavities. After this, I think I’ll look for something a little edgier.”
    Ella laughed, too. “You look very nice today, by the way. Not that you don’t look nice every day, but I notice you’re more dressed up today than usual. Anything special going on?”
    I told Ella about the man Mom was convinced was following us but who turned out to be a freelance journalist seeking Oregon coast entrepreneurs to interview. “What luck, right?” I asked.
    “Absolutely,” she said. “I think that’s terrific. Have you heard from the guy yet?”
    “Not yet.”
    “You will.” She smiled. “You deserve to have some good things come your way.”
    Just before Ella left, Mom and Angus returned from their walk. I introduced the two women, but Mom reminded me she’d met Ella at the needlepoint class the night of Mrs. Ralston’s visitation.
    “That’s right,” I said. “I’m sorry, Ella.”
    “No need to apologize,” she said. “I know you’ve had a lot on