Monica Ferris_Needlecraft Mysteries_03 Read Online Free

Martha and Betsy stopped.
    Patricia’s footsteps went ahead, paused, and lights went on in a room off a narrow hall. Betsy and Martha walked into a severely plain and obviously elderly room with a high ceiling and a magnificent fireplace at its far end. Because the church complex overlapped the hill it was set on, the left wall had windows and there was a door at the far end leading outside.
    But Betsy’s eyes were quickly drawn to the only furniture in the room, a card table near a wall with a large piece of light-colored needlework draped over it.
    She approached and saw, on a neutral background, a near life-size figure of Christ as the Good Shepherd, the design flat and stylized. Christ, deeply tanned and sporting long black hair and a curly beard, wore a white robe under a dark-orange mantle. A lamb rested complacently on his right forearm, and he held a crook in his left hand. Around his head was a halo of two bold lines of metallic gold, with a blue gray stripe between them. Six sheep crowded around him, their expressions benign.
    The work was done in plain diagonal stitching. Martha stepped forward and laid bold hands on it, even turning a corner of it over.
    â€œBasket weave,” she said, meaning the stitching. “And whew, is it mildewed!”
    â€œSmells awful,” agreed Betsy, wrinkling her nose. “Is that moth damage?” she asked, gesturing at a spot where the stitches were missing, exposing the heavy canvas. “I mean moth larvae, don’t I? It’s not the moths, it’s the grubs, right?”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Patricia, and she sneezed. “Eggscuse be,” she said, and held a handkerchief to her nose.
    There weren’t a lot of bare places, and most were smaller than the palm of her hand. Betsy smiled. She could supply the wool to mend this with very little strain. But, “What about the mildew? No one can work on it like this. Is there a treatment we can use?”
    â€œSunlight is good,” said Martha—surprisingly, because she owned a dry cleaning shop. “But also you can mix one or two tablespoons of sodium perborate in a pint of water and sponge it on the mildew. That will get rid of the mildew stains, too, and it’s a mild enough bleach that it shouldn’t hurt the colors. I’ll see about treating it before we start work.”
    â€œThanks,” said Patricia.
    There were footsteps, and the women turned to see a tall woman in a police uniform coming toward them, taking off her hat as she approached. Her jacket was thick, her utility belt weighty, and her gun large. Above all that was a lovely Gibson girl face surrounded by ash-blond hair, pulled back into a short braid.
    â€œHello, Jill,” said Patricia. “Glad you could come.”
    â€œI can’t stay long.” Jill came up to the table. “I’ve been meaning to call you, Betsy. Anything you want me to bring to the party tomorrow?”
    Betsy was giving a Christmas party to thank her friends and employees for their loyalty. Both Patricia and Martha were coming, so it was all right for Jill to talk about it.
    â€œNo, I have everything I need, thanks.”
    Jill leaned closer than Betsy had dared to examine the tapestry. “This doesn’t look so bad,” she said. “That ground color should be easy to match. Who’s working on it?”
    â€œSo far, just me, Martha, and Phil Galvin,” said Patricia.
    â€œI’m too busy with the shop,” Betsy said, feeling a slight blush warm her cheeks at this need to justify herself. “But I’ll supply the wool, the needles, Febreze, anything you need.”
    â€œThat’s generous of you,” Jill said, frowning at the bottom left corner, where a strand of tan yarn hung down. “Are you in charge, Patricia?”
    â€œYes, I told Father John we could do this at no cost to the church. But Betsy, I didn’t tell him to ask you to donate the