“Good morning, Jemma!” Kitty came through the back door, bringing with her the scent of something delicious. She set a large cloth-covered tray on the kitchen table. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Cradling my coffee against my chest with one hand, I peeked under the cloth. “Mmm. French toast.”

“Stuffed French toast,” she corrected.

“There’s enough for an army.” I’d learned months ago that my friends would randomly throw breakfast parties at my house. I never complained. People who can’t cook enjoy any day when friends take pity on them and they don’t have to eat cardboard-flavored cereal.

Kitty smiled.

The door opened again, and Granny bolted in, followed by Emmilene at a more sedate, graceful pace.

My friends had outdone themselves. I got up to set the table.

“Do you have everything ready for your display?” Emmilene asked as she took the cover off Granny’s tray, exposing piles and piles of bacon. “I’d be happy to help you pack up.”

“Thank you, but everything’s ready.” If she’d asked me at midnight I’d have taken her up on it, but she was a few hours too late.

“It’s never going to work,” Granny said. She snagged a slice of bacon from the platter.

“The resort’s hurt a lot of people,” Kitty agreed. “I’m not sure this local artisan show idea of theirs is going to fix anything.”

I hoped they were wrong. But the damage had been done long before I arrived in Clear Creek, so even though I’d heard all about it, I hadn’t experienced the pain the way the others had.

“Time will tell.” Emmilene placed a cloth napkin in her lap.

As my friends transferred food to their plates, I couldn’t help thinking of how my neighbors had all moved on with their lives. Yes, the resort was a constant reminder of the near-death of Clear Creek, but until the announcement that they’d be hosting a show for the locals to display their talents and showcase their craft-based businesses, it had felt like we were past it.

Now everyone was talking about it again. At least most of the animosity had mellowed. Half the town had already made plans to enjoy the show.

We managed to avoid talking about it for most of breakfast, but as usual, Granny had to get in a parting shot on her way out the door. “Things will go smoothly, I suppose.” She pierced me with a look. “So long as you don’t find a body.”

“Why would you say such a thing?” Kitty asked.

Granny cackled. “She’s about due for one.”

“Granny!” It was true that I’d found a couple of bodies, but to say it was about time I found another one was going too far.

She just laughed as she hurried out of sight.

I filled a travel mug with a third cup of coffee and gathered my tote bags. Then I texted Brandon to let him know I was ready. I cut through the yarn shop at the front of my little two-story home — Kitty would be back in a while to run the shop while I was gone — and followed the path down to the parking lot.

On the way to the resort, I told Brandon about the conversation. He just laughed it off as Granny being Granny.

When we arrived, Brandon carried my bags as we headed into the atrium to set up my display.

I couldn’t help peeking around every corner.

“You aren’t still thinking about what Granny said, are you?” Brandon asked. He grinned his dimple into view, eyes twinkling in that way that only his could. “Don’t worry about it, Jemma. Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

He was right. I was being silly.

I pasted on a smile and moved to the display board with my name on it. I had more important things to worry about, like convincing myself no one was going to laugh at my early attempts at knitting.

Hours later, as I stood alone in the atrium with Granny and Brandon’s words ringing in my ears, I tried to remember that it was all supposed to be a joke. They hadn’t meant to jinx it.

But somehow, they had. Because right there at my feet was a body.

I dropped my mug. The lid popped off and coffee went everywhere.

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Purls Before Swine, A Clear Creek Mystery Book #3
Genre: Cozy
Release: March 2023
Format: Digital
Purchase Link

Autumn has arrived in the Rocky Mountains. The resort that was almost the death of the small town of Clear Creek is trying to mend relations by hosting a local artisan show.

Jemma has been asked to create a display showing beginner projects all the way up to expert. Hoping to knit up attention for the shops in Clear Creek, she agrees. The last thing she expects is to trip over a body in the middle of the exhibits.

Curiosity piqued, she wants to know how someone was killed under the watchful eyes of the resort’s security staff — headed by the man she loves.

Even though her past experiences have taught Jemma she doesn’t want to be anywhere near a killer, when Deputy Chase surprises everyone by asking for her help she can’t bring herself to say no. Because if the killer isn’t bound off before the resort guests leave, someone will get away with murder.

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Meet the author
Rebecca McKinnon enjoys playing with her imaginary friends and introducing them to others through her writing. She dreams of living in the middle of nowhere, but has been unable to find an acceptable location that wouldn’t require crossing an ocean.

All comments are welcomed.