Read The Quick and the Thread for Free Online Page B

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    Four square fifth w.
    “Four square fifth what ?” I wondered. “Fifth wheel ?” The scribbles were probably merely a reflection of Mr. Enright’s confused state of mind.
    Staying true to my word, I firmly closed the storeroom door and went to let Angus out of the bathroom. He bounded over to the storeroom door, sniffed, and then came to lie on his bed under the counter and chew on a toy.
    I smiled at this further reassurance that the storeroom had been thoroughly cleaned.
    Sadie dropped in about ten a.m. with coffee for both of us. I got up from behind the counter, and Sadie and I went over to the sitting area. Sadie chose to stretch out on one of the navy sofas, while I ensconced myself in one of the red chairs.
    “Have you heard any more from Lorraine?” Sadie asked.
    “Not yet. I did speak with my lawyer yesterday—actually, Mom’s lawyer—and he said I have nothing to fear from a wrongful-death suit since I in no way contributed to Mr. Enright’s death.”
    “That’s a relief.”
    “Yeah. I still hope she doesn’t file suit, though. I can do without the expense, not to mention more bad publicity.”
    Angus came over to my chair and whined.
    “Sadie, can you watch the shop for a sec while I take him outside? Normally, it’s no big deal, but I’m expecting Mr. Trelawney sometime today.”
    “Okay. This is our slow time, anyway.”
    “Thanks.” I grabbed Angus’ leash, and he hurried over to let me snap it onto his collar. “We’ll hurry.”
    “No problem,” Sadie said.
    I took Angus out onto the street and headed in the direction of the clock tower. It was a grassy area with black wrought-iron benches and large wooden flower barrels. The barrels currently contained mums in shades of white, yellow, and pink.
    Before we could get to the clock tower, a woman burst out of the aromatherapy shop. She was thin, had gunmetal gray hair, and was wearing red, thick-framed glasses.
    “Hey,” she said. “Aren’t you Marcy Singer? Didn’t you open that new shop down the street, the Seven-Year Stitch?”
    I smiled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. Do you like to embroider?”
    “No, no,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to ask you about Timothy Enright. I heard he died in your shop.”
    “Um, yes. That’s right.”
    “Well, what happened?”
    I shrugged. “Nobody really knows at this point.”
    “I saw that cleaning crew come in there with their white suits and hoods on and everything,” she said. “What was that all about? Did Mr. Enright make some sort of mess?”
    “I . . . I’m not at liberty to say, Ms. . . .”
    Without giving me her name, she hurried on. “I knew Mr. Enright when he leased the shop, you know. He appeared to be a very nice man—never did anything untoward, as far as I know.” She narrowed her eyes. “So, what do you think made him snap?”
    “I have no idea,” I said. “Please excuse me. I need to walk Angus and then get back to my shop.”
    I hurried on to the clock tower. Angus fulfilled his obligations, I cleaned it up, and then we returned to the Seven-Year Stitch.
    Sadie zeroed in on my face when I returned. “What happened?”
    I removed Angus’ leash. “The lady from the aromatherapy shop came out and wanted to know what happened to Timothy Enright.”
    “Oh, don’t mind her. She makes it her hobby to butt into everyone else’s businesses.”
    “She didn’t strike me as a particularly nice person,” I said, “which is too bad, because I like aromatherapy products.”
    “That’s okay,” Sadie said with small smile. “I know a wonderful place in Lincoln City that sells top-of-the-line stuff.”
    “Did Mr. Trelawney stop by?” I asked.
    “Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did. He was all freaked about that writing on the wall in the storeroom. He wants it painted over as soon as possible and said he’ll send someone over to look at it.”
    I rolled my eyes. “It’s not that big a deal. Not as big a deal as it will be to have to