“Dana’s yoga teacher, Wanda, told me that she thought Amanda was having an affair,” Lucy recalled. “So maybe they both had extramarital activities, hidden from the other,” Lucy said. “Now Peter is free to do as he likes.”

  “Right. Maybe he freed himself of Amanda to do as he likes,” Suzanne said. “But aside from the girlfriend, he starts asking the real-estate agent how fast he could close the deal so he can leave town. He told the agent he has some debt to pay off. Some serious debt. Not just a few credit cards…now what does that mean?”

  Dana looked down in her lap and fiddled with her knitting. “Peter has a gambling problem. The attorney who was handling the divorce told Jack. I wasn’t supposed to tell anybody but…since you seemed to already know most of it…well, don’t ever say you heard the rest from me,” Dana added. “That was the big issues in their divorce. Amanda wouldn’t agree on sharing his debt.”

  “Maybe that’s why he went to talk to her the morning she was murdered?” Lucy recalled. “Maybe he hadn’t even found out about her affair. Maybe, when she kept saying she wouldn’t help him with his debt, he got so angry that he went over the edge.”

  “Does it really matter what they argued about? For once, he got the last word,” Phoebe finished for her.

  Lucy felt her skin crawl. She could picture it now…Peter and Amanda. The way they had argued. The hat block in Peter’s hand, striking her on the head….

  “So why is poor Maggie sitting in the police station, being browbeaten for the past three hours?” Suzanne demanded to know. “What’s wrong with this picture, ladies?”

  “How long can they keep her there?” Phoebe asked Dana.

  Dana shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it depends if they can tie the hat block to her somehow. If they have enough evidence to charge her, she can still get out on bail. But she’ll have to go before a judge. Probably tomorrow, at this rate.”

  The thought of Maggie going through that ordeal made Lucy feel sick to her stomach. And angry. At the police, Peter Goran…at whoever had done this to her.

  “Fingerprints would be pretty flimsy, don’t you think?” Lucy asked Dana. “Considering the block was in the shop and she could have handled it by accident?”

  Dana nodded. “I’m sure Christine will be able to talk them out of something that weak. Christine is smart and tough. She can put two and two together. She knows Peter Goran probably did it and he passed all that stuff to Maggie. I’m sure she’s going to argue that scenario to Detective Walsh.”

  “Just in case, next time you speak to her, please relate the highlights of this conversation?” Lucy asked.

  “Of course I will.” Dana reached over and touched Lucy’s hand. “Jack says the police are really tiptoeing around this case. They want to make the charges stick. This is an election year for the county DA and he doesn’t want to be embarrassed.”

  “I guess that’s something in Maggie’s favor. I just wish it wasn’t taking so long to get her out of there.” Lucy sighed.

  “The wheels of justice grind slowly.” Dana’s tone was solemn.

  “And the wheels of injustice seem to grind even slower,” Lucy countered.

  “Doesn’t the American Civil Liberties Union have a hotline or something?” Phoebe asked mournfully.

  Suzanne was the first to go and very reluctantly, a few minutes after midnight. She wanted to stay longer, but she had a full day to look forward to, getting her kids up and off to school in the morning and then holding an open house in town.

  The big sectional sofa was comfortable and Dana had started a fire in the hearth. The leaping yellow flames made a hypnotizing contrast to the smooth granite mantel. Lucy watched the fire, struggling to keep her eyes open. She wondered if Tink was all right being by herself, but she didn’t want to leave without hearing from Maggie. The platter of fruit and cheese was picked over and just about empty, the same for the wine bottle.

  Dana sat on the other end of the sofa, still steadily knitting. But Phoebe had fallen asleep, curled into a ball in one of the leather chairs, her long legs tucked up to her chin, her knitting dangling off her lap. More crazy-looking socks for Josh, it appeared to Lucy. Her features had relaxed in sleep, making her look much younger.

  Dana had noticed it, too. “She looks like a little girl,” she whispered.

  “Yeah, one that’s allowed to get piercings and tattoos,” Lucy whispered back.

  Dana laughed but luckily Phoebe didn’t wake up.

  They did wake her up, though, when Christine Forbes called again at about half past one. It was good news. Maggie was being released. The police were not charging her, for lack of evidence, her lawyer told Dana. They couldn’t find a fingerprint match on the hat block, which was good news. The bad news was they were still trying to link it to her someway.

  “Did you speak to Maggie?” Phoebe asked with a groggy yawn.

  “No, I didn’t get to speak with her. Only with her lawyer.” Dana sat back and sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to hear the whole story.”

  Lucy rose and stretched her legs. She picked up her knitting and stuck it back in her tote. She was still working on the second hat. It seemed to have stalled out in all the excitement.

  “This is the first time we’ve ever met and knitted without Maggie,” she said to Dana and Phoebe.

  Dana was also putting her knitting away, including one of the flowers she planned to felt and use to embellish her new sweater. “I was thinking the same thing,” she admitted. “Let’s hope it’s the only time.”

  Maggie and the Black Sheep knitting shop had made the local newspaper again, the second time in less than two weeks. Finally on the front page, though hardly the way Maggie had hoped, Lucy thought with a cringe.

  A half-page article with a photograph covered the surprise police search and Maggie’s night of questioning at the station, “in connection with the recent murder of Amanda Goran, Plum Harbor resident and former owner of the Knitting Nest.”

  “In connection with the recent murder of…” The phrase made Lucy shudder. At least they hadn’t called her a “suspect.” That would have been too much to endure.

  Lucy could only imagine how Maggie felt reading any of it. Or how she felt trying not to read it.

  As Tuesday wore on, she could only imagine it, since Maggie would not speak to anyone all day. Lucy called around to her friends—Dana, Suzanne, and Phoebe. They were getting the same silent treatment. Maggie just wouldn’t talk to anyone.

  “This has been a real shock for her. A real blow to her self-esteem. She needs some time to process,” Dana told her. “We can’t take it personally.”

  No, they couldn’t. Lucy wanted to be there for Maggie but it seemed the only way to do that right now was to give her some space. Lucy understood that.

  When Lucy went out to the supermarket at 5:00, she drove past Maggie’s house. The curtains were drawn and the windows dark. She decided not to stop after all.

  When Lucy got home she found a message on the machine. “Hi, Lucy, it’s me. I’m sorry I didn’t pick up when you called. I’m all right. I was exhausted from being up all night and slept most of the day. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Maggie hadn’t said whether or not she would open the shop tomorrow, Lucy noticed. Maybe she didn’t know herself.

  There was another message after Maggie’s. This one was from Matt McDougal. Lucy had almost forgotten about him. Almost…not quite, she admitted to herself. She did feel a tiny ping of victory, hearing his voice. “Hi, Lucy, it’s Matt McDougal. I’m just calling to see how Tink is doing. Give me a call at the office if you have a chance…I’d really like to say hello.”

  Pretty much a standard doctor-patient follow-up call. Except for the closing. He’d like to say hello? Really like to? Well, that was something. She had to agree with Phoebe. Men were timid woodland creatures and this was moving so slowly they were practically going backward.

  The next morning, Lucy had just come in from giving Tink her morning walk when she heard the phone ring and then Phoebe’s voice on the machine. “Lucy? It’s Phoebe. Maggie just called—”

  Lucy picked it up. “Hey, what’s up?”

  Phoebe sounded upset. Lucy hoped it wasn’t more trouble with the police. “Maggie’s not opening up today, either. Bummer, right? She says she’s still too tired. But I think she’s just afraid to show her face on Main Street after that story in the newspaper and all. It’s really so unfair. The police are fascist pigs—”

  When Phoebe got nervous she just kept talking. Lucy had to interrupt her. “I think she’s embarrassed, too. I’m not sure what we can do,” she added, remembering what Dana had said. “She probably needs more time, Phoebe.”

  “Yeah…I know. I just hate to see her in lockdown mode, acting as if she really did clip Amanda on the head, when it’s not her fault at all. Know what I mean?”

  Lucy did know what she meant. It wasn’t like Maggie to crawl into a hole like this. She was more the type that came back out swinging.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to be alone right now, either,” Phoebe added.

  “I thought of that, too.” Not that there was even a remote chance of Maggie harming herself. But it wouldn’t make her outlook any lighter to skulk around alone in her dark house.

  “Why don’t we just go over there?” Lucy said suddenly. “I’ll call Dana and Suzanne. If she really doesn’t want to see us, we’ll go away but at least she knows we’re thinking of her.”

  “An intervention. I like it.” Phoebe sounded relieved.

  “Can you meet at her house in fifteen minutes?”

  “I’m there,” Phoebe promised.

  Dana and Suzanne were upset to hear that Maggie planned to stay barricaded in her house today and both liked the girlfriend intervention plan. They dropped what they were doing and jumped in their cars to meet Lucy and Phoebe. Suzanne had just bought bagels and cream cheese for a morning meeting at her office but offered to donate them to the cause.

  When they finally gathered at Maggie’s front door and stood shoulder to shoulder, Phoebe rang the bell. Lucy was glad she was not alone. It would have been a simple matter for Maggie just to talk to her through a crack in the door, claiming she was still just too tired to see anyone, though she appreciated Lucy’s concern. Lucy knew she wouldn’t have been persuasive or pushy enough to force her way in.

  But it was pretty darned near impossible for Maggie to face down all four of her stalwart friends at once. It reminded Lucy of her days on the high school soccer team, when the opponent was taking a corner kick at the goal and the coach would shout, “Make the wall! Make the wall!”

  They were making the wall, and Maggie might give it her best shot, but she would not get the ball past their loyalty and deep concern.

  They heard the bell ring inside and a few moments later, they saw Maggie peek out the living room curtain. They waited. But she didn’t come to open the door.

  “What if she doesn’t answer?” Phoebe whispered.

  “She’s got to answer,” Lucy said.

  “Not necessarily. She didn’t ask us to come here. She specifically told us not to. She has a perfect right not to let us in,” Dana reminded them.

  “If she doesn’t answer, you’re all taking bagels,” Suzanne mumbled.

  Finally the door opened. Maggie looked pale and flustered. Her hand clung to the open top of her long cardigan sweater. She wore a T-shirt and velour sweatpants, but was barefoot, which led Lucy to suspect Maggie had still been in her bathrobe when she heard the bell and had run upstairs to quickly pull some clothes on.

  “Oh…this is very sweet. But I’m really not up for company right now,” Maggie said quietly.

  “We aren’t company, Maggie. We’re your best friends,” Dana replied in an even quiet tone.

  “Your homegirls? Your posse?” Lucy offered, trying to interject a light note.

  “We’re a flippin’ intervention, Maggie. You don’t have a choice.” Phoebe’s high thin voice was stern.

  Maggie turned to her, looking surprised. But she hardly budged or opened the door any wider. “Do you really want to socialize with a murder suspect? Word gets around. You might regret it. Bad for business, I’ll tell you that much.”

  It was hard for Lucy to tell if Maggie was joking. She sounded so serious. And sad.

  “If you don’t let us in this instant, you’ll definitely regret it. That much I can say for sure.” Suzanne leaned forward and nudged the door open with her shoulder, like a linebacker heading for the end zone, the bag of bagels tucked under her arm.

  Once she’d clear the way, Maggie had no choice but to step aside.

  “Please come in. Nice of you to drop by…” she said as they traipsed past her into the foyer.

  They filed into the living room, then chose places to sit. Lucy and Dana sat on the camelback chintz sofa. Phoebe sat in a wingback chair. Suzanne pulled over the rocker from its spot near the fireplace.

  “You sit down here, Maggie. I’ll make some coffee.”

  “There’s a full pot. Hardly touched it,” Maggie murmured.

  They all sat looking at her, waiting for her to speak. Lucy thought Maggie looked lost in her private thoughts, hardly aware they were even in the room.

  “Maggie…tell us what you are thinking,” Dana coaxed her. “We want to help.”

  “Yes, we want to help,” Lucy repeated. She sat forward, waiting for Maggie to reply.

  “I’m ruined. What else could I be thinking?” Maggie’s voice trembled. “Who will come to the store now? Especially after that awful article in the newspaper. Everyone is talking about me. I’m sure of it.” She looked down at her hands twisting in her lap. Lucy could rarely remember seeing her sit in that chair without some knitting in her hands.

  “But you’re innocent, Maggie,” Dana reminded her. “It doesn’t matter what other people think. In time, they’ll see that they were wrong.”

  “In time, of course. But I don’t have that much time. A little shop like the Black Sheep can go out of business quickly. And I didn’t look innocent when I was dragged off by the police Tuesday night. Did you see the crowd on the sidewalk? Oh…it was awful. I’ve never been through anything like it. Not even when Bill died,” she added. She took a deep breath and composed herself. “No, I can’t survive this. The shop…everything I’ve worked so hard to build there…it’s all been taken away from me. Like that.” She snapped her fingers in the air. “I guess Amanda Goran has had her revenge on me after all, hasn’t she?” she asked bitterly.

  “Maggie, you can’t be serious,” Lucy implored her.

  “We know you feel terrible, Maggie. Anybody would,” Dana said quietly. “Violated and accused of something horrific that you didn’t do. But give yourself some time. Don’t make any big decisions right now. You aren’t thinking clearly.”

  “Oh, yes I am. I might as well just close up shop. Quick and painless. Instead of sitting there every day, hemorrhaging money. Waiting for customers who never come. Waiting for the police to come back and take me away for good this time.”

  Her last line shut them all up, Lucy noticed. For a long moment, nobody even dared to breathe.

  Dana was the first to find her voice. “This is not like you, Maggie. You know people will still come to the shop. The police will find the person who killed Amanda and everyone will forget that you were ever involved.”

  “People have, like, very short attention spans, know what I mean?” Phoebe said. “They’re talking about this now, then next week, it’s something else. Global warming…bad tomatoes.”

  Maggie glanced at her but didn’t say anything. She pulled an afghan around her shoulders and curled into the chair, staring into space again.

  Lucy understood now. In that last gesture, Maggie was trying to tell them that she didn’t feel safe in the Black Sheep anymore. She felt vulnerable, exposed. Under attack by the small-town gossip she was sure had already begun. And that was the saddest thought of all.

  “Maybe you should close for just a week or so, see how that goes,” Dana suggested gently. “Just until the police tie up this case and it all blows over.”

  Dana glanced at the others, silently soliciting support. Lucy thought that was a good compromise. She did think Maggie was acting rashly. Maybe closing for a few weeks would be the best thing, considering Maggie’s frame of mind. No use trying to force her to go back if she really didn’t want to.

  But closing the Black Sheep, even for a little while, would be a great loss to all of them. Lucy didn’t even want to think about the doors shutting forever. But if that’s what Maggie needed, how could they argue?

  Suzanne bustled back in with a tray that held cups, the coffeepot, cream cheese, and a stack of bagels on a platter.

  “That idea sucks,” she said bluntly. She set down the tray and turned to Maggie. “If you close the shop, even for the rest of the week, that’s like hanging out a big banner that says, ‘Hey Everybody. You’re Right. I Did It!’ Are you going to let them take it all away from you? Are you going to let Amanda win, from beyond the grave, for Christmas sake?”

  Maggie stared up at her, a curious light in her eye, her mouth hanging open.

  Lucy couldn’t tell if Suzanne’s outburst had made her angry. It had definitely caught her attention.

  “Oh, easy for you to say. Try sitting in an interrogation room for three hours. And being fingerprinted like a common crook….” She held her hands out, spreading her fingers. “See? I still can’t get all the ink off. It’s horrible…then tell me that I’m giving in too easily.”

  “I’ll tell you that I’m disappointed in you,” Suzanne continued. Dana turned to look at her, shaking her head, trying to signal she was going too far. Suzanne ignored her.

 

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