Stitches In Time Read Online Free Page A

cheerful than he had for some time. "The guilty flee where no man pursueth? I certainly couldn't pursue him. If he hadn't panicked, he'd have spotted the crutches and realized I was no threat to him."
    "You might have been armed."
    "Most people aren't. Unless they're cops. I think he recognized me."
    " I think you're right," Rachel agreed. "Does that imply that he's from around here?"
    Tony gave her an approving smile. "Smart girl. He wouldn't have reacted so dramatically if he hadn't encountered me before. I may even have arrested him. I can't remember every two-bit crook in the county."
    "Well, thanks for rushing to the rescue. If you hadn't come when you did ..." She stopped, realizing she was overdoing it and that he wasn't dumb enough to fall for the helpless female routine. He gave her a quizzical look.
    "Yeah, I was a big help, wasn't I ?" His brow wrinkled. "It's strange that he should come here. He couldn't know you'd be alone, and this isn't the sort of place a thief would hit, especially in daylight. I wonder ..."
    He broke off. "Don't tell Cheryl I fell," he said softly. "You know how she is."
    His fingers closed over hers in a warm, warning grip. He had heard the car before she had. Speechless, Rachel swallowed and nodded, and Tony released her hand.
    Cheryl was carrying a bag of groceries. Her face lit up when she saw Tony, and Jerry flung himself at his father, yelling, "The doctor stuck a needle in me and I didn't cry, and he said I couldn't have any candy 'cause it wasn't good for me, so can I have some?"
    "Don't jump at your daddy like that," Cheryl exclaimed. "You'll hurt him."
    Jerry, now on his father's knee, turned to stare at his mother. He had her stocky build and Tony's olive skin and black hair. His resemblance to his father had never been stronger than at that moment; both male faces bore identical scowls.
    "It's all right," Tony said. "I think you deserve a reward, Jerry."
    "He can have an apple," Cheryl said.
    "I don't want a stinky apple, I want a choc'lit bar."
    It turned into one of those idiotic, unproductive arguments bright children are so good at provoking, and which usually have undercurrents more complex than the immediate issue. Rachel took the groceries from Cheryl and escaped; when she came back, Jerry was eating cookies and looking maddeningly smug, and Cheryl was dragging a large black trash bag into the shop.
    Rachel hurried to help her. The bag was heavy, the plastic strained by the weight of its contents. "What's this?" she asked.
    "I was just about to ask you. Found it outside on the porch." She started to reach inside.
    "Wait!" Rachel caught her arm.
    Tony had stiffened. "Bring it over here. Please," he added.
    Rachel knew what he was thinking. The unpleasant character who had left so hastily might have left an equally unpleasant souvenir—rotting trash laced with broken glass, for example. There was something wrong with that bag. She could feel it. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled.
    Cheryl sat back on her heels. "What's the matter with you two? It's just old linens." Before Rachel could stop her, she pulled a crumpled bundle out of the bag.
    "People bring things like this in all the time," she went on cheerfully. "Usually it's junk when it arrives in a trash bag, but you never know . . . Good gosh. Look at this."
    The fabric she lifted between her hands was yellowed with age and badly wrinkled, but now Rachel saw the pattern Cheryl's better-educated eye had spotted. Delicate precise stitches shaped an elaborate tracery of intertwined scrolls.
    "It's a quilt." Cheryl laid the fabric carefully out on the floor, smoothing the crumpled folds. "White work, trapunto, hand-stitched—though the stitching is so fine it looks machine-made. Look at the detail!"
    The pattern covered the entire surface of the quilt, which was large enough for a double bed, in an intricate design of formalized flower and leaf shapes, scrolls and overlapping feathers. Certain elements had been