my apology and not making me learn to knit as payback.”
“I wish I’d thought of it. You might have found knitting relaxing.” She laughed as she tried to imagine knitting needles in his big callused hands. “I can’t really see you knitting.”
He laughed then too, a warm, natural sound that made her soften even more toward him.
“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” he said, backing toward the door. Slipping his Stetson back on his head, he tipped his hat to her. “It was nice meeting you, Georgia Michaels.”
She smiled and sniffed the bouquet he’d given her as he left, thinking how nice he’d been and wondering what had gone wrong with his marriage to Nicci. They were both gorgeous and both probably rich. But Georgia doubted Nicci had worked a day in her life. Still maybe there was a chance they would reconcile if Nicci stayed around long enough.
Georgia hoped that was possible for Dalton Corbett’s sake. He really seemed like a nice man, a man who would take his vows to love, honor and cherish very seriously. Not a man who would ever hurt his wife.
DALTON HOPED he’d handled the situation with Georgia Michaels the right way. If it had been any other woman than the yarn shop owner, he might have tried to persuade her into telling him what had happened to Nicci after he’d left the shop yesterday. He might even have offered a bribe.
But one good look into Georgia Michael’s pretty, sweet, girl-next-door face and he knew he would be wasting his time. Kindheartedness radiated from the woman the way greed radiated from other women he’d met.
Even at the threat of death, Georgia Michaels would cover for another woman who she believed to be in danger. And that, Dalton thought, would be her downfall.
He parked up the street in sight of the shop and now all he could do was wait. If he knew Nicci, which even in their short intense time together, he did, then she would take advantage of a woman like Georgia.
Georgia Michaels was everything Nicci was not, and Nicci would use that to her advantage. Which meant it was just a matter of time before Nicci returned to the yarn shop. She had found a sympathetic woman who’d already helped her. Getting Georgia to help her again would be child’s play for a woman like Nicci.
He had to assume from the way Georgia had acted at the shop yesterday that Nicci had brought in an Academy Award winning role as the helpless woman in need. Even if Nicci did return to the shop, he couldn’t go in there demanding she talk to him.
Georgia Michaels had already proven she wouldn’t hesitate to call the sheriff. Nicci would be counting on that having gained the shop owner’s trust.
A little before nine, women began to enter the knitting shop one after another. None of them was Nicci, though. Each woman carried a bag, probably going to one of those classes, Georgia had mentioned. While he had no idea what Nicci had been doing the last nine years, he knew she hadn’t taken up knitting.
So how would she ingratiate herself into the shop owner’s life and exploit that relationship? Just Georgia Michaels’s luck that Nicci had chosen her shop to duck into yesterday. Or had Nicci planned it that way all along?
Dalton grew impatient, anxious to ask Nicci where she’d been all this time and even more to the point what she was doing alive.
Still no sign of Nicci, Dalton started the engine and drove down past the yarn shop. He glanced toward the front window, but the glare of the sun off the glass made it impossible to see inside.
What he did see though stopped his heart cold. Yesterday there’d been an Apartment for Rent sign in the front window. He hadn’t noticed it earlier when he’d gone into the shop.
But now there was no mistaking.
The sign was gone.
“AGNES?” Georgia exclaimed when the elderly woman arrived for knitting class.
The last one to come in the door, Agnes stopped and struck a pose. “Like my new ’do? I decided to go à la natural.”
“It’s cute. I didn’t realize you had naturally curly hair.”
“Neither did I,” Agnes said with a chuckle. “Who knew?”
As Georgia helped her knitting class, she could hear Nicci upstairs moving around. It seemed odd since that apartment had been empty from the time Georgia bought the building and started her shop.
But the sound of life upstairs was also reassuring. She hadn’t realized how alone she’d been for some time. It would be nice having someone around—even temporarily.
She was especially anxious for Nicci to come down so she could meet everyone. Georgia wanted Rory to like Nicci and noticed that Rory had been watching the door to the apartments ever since she’d arrived.
“Hello everyone!” Nicci said a few minutes later. She stepped into the class area wearing navy capri pants and a navy-and-white-striped shirt, sandals and the same silver jewelry she’d been wearing the day before.
“Nicci, come join us. I want you to meet my friends.”
Georgia introduced them all, doing as Nicci had advised, introducing her by what she had said was her maiden name, Nicci Angeles instead of Corbett.
“That way I won’t have to answer a lot of awkward questions,” Nicci had said. “You don’t mind doing that, do you?”
It was a little white lie of omission. Georgia was happy to do it if it made things easier for Nicci.
As each person was introduced, Nicci complimented the knitting and choice of colors. She especially liked the baby blanket Rory was making and asked when her baby was due.
“The end of the month,” Rory said.
“I was thinking Georgia and I should go to a movie tonight at that old fashioned theater I saw in town,” Nicci said impulsively. “Rory, I hope you’re free and can come with us. I’ve heard so much about you I feel as if I already know you. Georgia is so lucky to have such a good friend.”
AGNES HAD BEEN ANXIOUS to meet the young woman renting the apartment upstairs. She figured Georgia could use the extra income and renting to a young woman close to her own age seemed ideal. Georgia had spoken so highly of the woman this morning before class. Agnes knew she was going to like her.
As Nicci made her way around the class, Agnes began to feel an uncomfortable pressure in her chest. She was suddenly struck by the strangest feeling. Dread. And even more stranger and alien to her, fear.
She felt her smile slip as Nicci now approached her. Why would this slim, attractive young woman fill her with such dread and fear?
Agnes quickly looked down at her knitting, afraid the woman had noticed her reaction, one so foreign to Agnes that she was at a loss to explain it. She was a woman who didn’t hold grudges and didn’t make enemies and yet—
Nicci stopped in front of her. As Agnes looked up and into the woman’s green eyes, she felt a chill rattle through her as if someone had just walked over her grave. For an
