A Halloween Close Call--A Kiki Lowenstein Novella

Need a Kiki fix? For less than a cup of coffee, you can read the most recent adventure of Kiki Lowenstein, “A Halloween Close Call.” Kiki Lowenstein is invited to a Halloween Party at Detective Chad Detweiler's parents' farm. But mysterious happenings around St. Louis have everyone on edge--and Kiki has a close encounter that leaves a surprising clue behind! This 10,000 + word novella is only $1.99 and available at A Close Call .

To get you started, here's a sample:

Chapter 1

“If it’s spooky or scary, count me out.”

Detective Chad Detweiler grinned at me. “Even if I’m there to hold your hand?”

“Sorry. I don’t do scary. I love Halloween but I draw the line at being frightened out of my mind. I get enough crummy surprises in my daily life, thank you,” and to underscore how adamant I was, I crossed my arms over my chest. But I couldn’t look stern for long. Not when I was around my friends, so I spoiled the impact by smiling. I know I did.

See, my name is Kiki Lowenstein, and I’m the original Mrs. Nice Guy. I like butterflies and rainbows, puppies and kittens, sugar and spice, and brightly colored flowers. I always make sure to get my daily quota of cute. You can never have too much cute in your life. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

“So the woman who stared down her husband’s murderer is a big ‘fraidy cat.” Johnny Chambers winked at me. Johnny has Bad Boy written all over him, whereas anyone can see that Detweiler is a Knight in Shining Armor.

I shrugged and stared off into the metal shelves where we kept excess merchandise for the scrapbook store where I work, Time in a Bottle. My friends and I were holding an impromptu get-together here, in the stockroom of the store, to discuss our plans for celebrating Halloween. But walking through a “haunted house,” one of those converted warehouses complete with “zombies” and “ghosts” and “monsters” did not appeal to me one bit. “I did what I had to do to survive. This is different. You all are talking about getting your wits scared out of you as a form of recreation. If that’s your idea of a good time, have at it, go ahead, love you to bits, but I’m taking a pass.”

I know I sounded a bit whiny. I couldn’t help it. Years ago, I learned the hard way that I have a very poor tolerance for spooky stuff. I’d gone with my late husband to a screening of Carrie, the movie made of the Stephen King book by the same name. That last scene where Carrie’s hand shoots up out of the grave had me so terrified I almost went into shock. My teeth chattered and I shook like the leaves on a maple sapling before a tornado hits. It took me weeks to calm down.

I was not interested in submitting myself to being jumped at, touched, or grabbed in the dark by people I didn’t know. Especially if they’re dressed like Frankenstein or the Mummy or even Count Dracula. Ugh.

No sirree. I’m not interest in paying to be shocked and surprised.

Detweiler laughed and pulled me close. “Come here, you.” He hugged me. I relaxed into his arms, a place where I always felt safe. Listening to the soft lub-lub-lub of his big heart reminded me that I wasn’t alone in this world. “If you don’t want to visit a haunted house, we’ll find another way to have fun on Halloween. No problem.”

I stayed in Detweiler’s arms, but rotated slightly so I could see my friends. Clancy and Johnny were joined by Laurel Wilkins and her fiancé Pastor Joe Riley. What a cute couple those two are. Joe and Laurel both are in their late twenties. When they walk by, people turn and stare because they are two exceptionally good-looking people. I mean, you feel like you’re in the company of Hollywood stars when you’re with the two of them. And nice? Shoot. You couldn’t find two sweeter people.

Clancy and Johnny aren’t really a couple, but they are pals, so they occasionally accompany each other rather than sit home alone. It’s an arrangement that suits both of them very well. Clancy could easily be mistaken for Jacqueline Kennedy, she’s got those dramatic, classy looks.

And Johnny, well, Johnny is a scamp. There’s a roguish side to his personality that comes through with every move he makes.
I hated disappointing all of them. They had their hearts set on celebrating this Halloween by all of us doing something special.

The question was, what?

Now that I’d put the kibosh on going through one of the many “haunted houses” that regularly sprang up this time of year all over the metro-St. Louis area, what would we do for fun?

“Look, I don’t want to be a party pooper. You all should go without me. I’ll be fine passing out candy at my house.” Of course, I didn’t mean a word of that. I would hate to be left out, but it did seem like giving everyone else permission to carry on was the gracious thing to do.

“Mo-om,” moaned Anya, my thirteen-year-old daughter, who had just joined us. “I’m too big to trick or treat. Sitting home on Halloween will be, like, totally boring. Geez.”

“I didn’t quit trick or treating until I was sixteen,” said Laurel. “But I understand what you mean, Anya. Don’t worry. We’ll think of something fun to do.”

“Kiki, we wouldn’t enjoy ourselves if you don’t come,” Clancy Whitehead patted me on the back as I pulled free from the big detective’s embrace.

“And Anya’s right. Sitting at home would be a drag. So, we’ll make another plan. I’ve never been overly fond of haunted houses either. Some of them are okay, but I was in one where this hand reached out and--”

“La-la-la-la-la,” I stuck both fingers in my ears and sang. “Don’t want to hear it!”

“Geez, Mom,” said Anya. “You are being such a baby about all this.”

“Anya-Banana, it’s okay. Your mom is just being honest with us. We’re all friends here. That’s the way good friends operate. They take each others’ wishes into account,” said Detweiler. He was the only adult officially authorized to call my darling daughter by her old nickname. The hunky detective and my daughter had a wonderful relationship. He was very careful to be totally respectful and clear about boundaries with her, and he was teaching her that sticking up for her rights and feelings was important. He’d seen too many teens talked into stupid stunts by their peers. And worse, he’d handled a grisly abuse case where the stepfather was molesting his stepdaughter. Detweiler, Anya and I had even discussed the situation over the dinner table one night, with him emphasizing that she should never hesitate to tell the authorities if someone acted inappropriately toward her or her friends. No matter how powerful the perpetrator seemed to be.

I could see that he was supporting me in nixing the haunted house to help Anya realize that friends don’t push friends into uncomfortable situations.

I have to admit, my heart was overflowing with love for my daughter and my new beau. I’d heard a lot of horror stories about women with kids getting involved and bad outcomes. But so far, the three of us had been able to discuss frankly any hiccups along the way to becoming a family.
One of those hiccups was melding with Detweiler’s parents, Louis and Thelma, as well as his sisters, Ginny and Patty. Since Detweiler and his wife Brenda were only officially separated, and not yet divorced, I wasn’t sure how the Detweiler family would feel about me. I thought I remembered hearing that Patty and Brenda were good friends. But I was afraid to ask.

Maybe Johnny was right. I can be a ‘fraidy cat. I know I sure do stick my head in the sand sometimes, so maybe I’m more like an ostrich.

“Don’t worry, Kiki. I’ll come up with something fun for us all to do on Halloween,” said Detweiler, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “That includes you, Anya. My niece Emily has been asking about you. She wants to hear how your kitten is doing.”

Anya’s face broke into a huge smile. “Seymour is getting big. Wait ‘til I tell her about how Gracie picks him up and carries him around.”

Hearing her name, my wonderful harlequin Great Dane started to thump her tail happily. Gracie is totally besotted with Detweiler. She had managed to lean her entire body weight against his leg while we were all talking. Now she was looking up at him with moony brown eyes.

Yeah, no doubt about it. My life was full of love and happiness. This wonderful support system of friends gave me all sorts of self-confidence.

In fact, I think it’s safe to say that I’ve never been more happy or secure.

But I still wasn’t willing to visit a haunted house.

Huh uh.

No way.

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Hungry for more? Upload the entire novella in seconds from A Close Call.

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Copyright 2010, Joanna Campbell Slan.

What We Learned about Writing a Short Story Collectively

Colleen commented that she wanted to share "A Crafty Kind of Murder" with her students. She plans to ask them to work together in groups of three to draft their own short story.

Several of our writer friends have been curious about the process, too. While it's fresh in my mind, I thought I'd share some of what I personally learned. Maybe my KH Blog Sisters can chime in!

1. Start with a goal in mind. We wanted to showcase our various characters with the idea of introducing new characters to potential readers. That meant each of us had to have a "solo" and that our characters had to do what THEY do best, not just make a token appearance. This simple decision helped us determine a structure and kept us from straying from our goal along the way.

2. Brainstorm the story elements. Emails went zinging back and forth as we discussed who, what, when, where, why, how and so on. Since we all write mysteries, we quickly realized we needed a victim. Once we decided that, we were working backwards (which is a good way to plot any mystery, in my humble opinion). Without a working story framework, you aren't free to write as individuals. Now, a few of the details did change, such as Carolina's name, but those were easily tackled in the edit stage.


3. Be respectful of everyone involved. At one point, we realized that our loose plot structure was too similar to a book that one of us had written. To our mutual credit, we took a step back and reworked our plot. We didn't want to rehash each other's work--it was just something that naturally came up in the brainstorming process. But I think what we all learned was that we held each other in great regard, and that the concerns of any one of us were important.


4. Know when to put the work aside. We originally planned to post this as a progressive story in February. However, it quickly reached a frustrating point where we were "lost." We were about half the way through, and we couldn't see how to maintain all the POVs (points of view) and still be coherent. So we put the work aside a while. That gave us the chance to look at it with new eyes.


5. Consider the reader. Okay, after that break, we started asking, "What if?" and "How can we make this work?" It came to us that if each character "reported" her portion, each author could keep her independence. That left us needing a structure for the reporting, a structure that would essentially stand alone. Thus, the simple "here's what I saw" format evolved.

Here's another way we considered our readers: We cut back on the number of characters. Even though this turned out to be a novella length project, we tossed several of our supporting characters to make it easier for our readers to follow. It's still a bit heavy on the supporting character side, but it's much better than it was.

6. Be flexible. Somewhere along the way, we realized that our original plot wouldn't work as planned. No biggie. You see, an outline is a tool, not a sacred cow. So we jettisoned the portions of the original that didn't work, and we made adjustments. In this case, we needed to change our "bad guy." Early drafts made it clear that our "bad guy" was too obvious. We needed to rework our red herrings and our real clues. Again, this was a brainstorming exercise.



7. Put your ego aside. I really have to credit all of us Blog Sisters. No one got snippy. Everyone was professional. We didn't always agree, and when we didn't, we were incredibly polite--and we brainstormed ways to get the job done rather than fuss at each other. We found typos in each other's work. We asked questions about the logic. We corrected spellings, punctuation, usage and grammar. (In that way, it was a wonderful learning opportunity! I mean, how often do you get the chance to sit at the feet of authors with so much experience?) But no one, and I want to emphasize this, no one acted unkind or huffy. In fact, we sort of tackled the polishing with gusto!

8. Commit to multiple edits. We needed an introduction for each daily "report." Since I'm a big 24 fan, that television show's format provided the ongoing commentary idea. Once all the reports were in, it was clear that insertions had to be made to keep all the characters straight. So, we were careful to reference who our characters were multiple times. (Hope that didn't get redundant!) Since our readers were getting the story in segments, a wrap up each day made sense. As you can see, the edits must be done with the end product and the end user in mind.


9. Edit yet again for consistency and clarity. We adjusted paragraph spacing, indents, speaker tags and so on. A "speaker tag" tells the reader who is talking. In a book, the reader falls into the rhythm of the author and quickly learns who is saying what. But in this work, we were showcasing various voices, so that wasn't possible. A few more speaker tags were necessary. We also checked for spelling of the "new" characters' names.

Note: It's really easy to edit out other authors' voices. You are zipping along and you think, "Oh, that's extraneous." Or, "I'd never put something that way." As a result, you dilute the other writers' voices. So, be sensitive to voice when you edit.

10. Along the way, listen to your co-authors. Once in a while, someone would say, "I think we should..." It would have been easy to discount this, and say, "Come on. We've all ready decided such-and-so." Maybe we did, and I don't realize that it happened, but I hope we didn't. I hope we were thoughtful and generous. I do distinctly recall someone really liked the name "Carolina" and so we changed our victim's name. Someone else had another situation they wanted changed. We did that, too. Our goal was to create a product that everyone could enjoy and feel good about.

I would love to hear any reader feedback you have for us. Would you like to see the sleuths again? Did you "hear" the distinctive voices? Are any of you tempted to read another author because of this experiment? Dish!

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Conclusion)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part VII: Conclusion to the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink.


Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder:"

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink— are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. So Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind. She saw an angry fan named Sondra Echols approach and threaten Carolina. Betsy Devonshire explains the situation is even more complicated than the seven crafters thought. With a little prodding from Betsy, Jane Kuhn reluctantly admits that she might lose an important contract with the Embroiderer's Guild of America if her financial problems with Carolina aren't resolved. Kendra Ballantyne agrees with Betsy. As an attorney, Kendra believes Jane Kuhn's problems with Carolina's expense reports are the best motive for murder so far. Just when the situation couldn't get any more confusing, Rocky Winchester admits she, too, had acrimonious dealings with the craft diva. In fact, Rocky's so upset she asks her future sister-in-law April to share her observations with the group. Now Jane is begging the seven crafters to help her solve the murder. Fortunately, Molly Pink has been paying close attention. With her observations and help from the other six, the crime will now be solved!

“So, that's it?” said Jane. “That's your big revelation?”

“Not entirely,” said Molly. Jane was being very rude, but that was to be expected. The first ever Craft and Hobby Extravaganza was about to be the last ever Craft and Hobby Extravaganza. Craft diva Carolina Pettijohn's body was lying behind a curtain. The police would have to be called. They would close the event down. Jane would lose all her investment in the affair, and even if she was exonerated, she'd lose her chance at running the upcoming Embroiderer's Guild of America show as well.

“I have more, but first, there's one thing we haven't done. We haven't really examined the scene of the crime.”

“Do you think we can do that without contaminating the evidence?” asked Kiki Lowenstein. “I mean, we're not getting anywhere. I think it's time to call my friend, Detective Detweiler. He'll listen to us, and at least we'll have one law enforcement official on our side.”

Of course, what she meant was we'd have one law enforcement official who might not immediately throw Rocky or Jane in jail. But none of us said that. Instead, we stood up and walked over to Carolina's corpse.

“Anyone have a better source of light?” asked Betsy.

“You might as well go ahead and call your friend,” said Molly. “We should have all the information he’ll need in a few minutes.”

“I don't know how you can be so sure about this,” said Jane as she scurried to grab a lamp from the other side of the green room and bring it over. She handed it to Kiki.

“I have this,” said Gerry Porter, as she withdrew a magnifying glass from a pocket. “It might help.”

Betsy took the magnifying glass and leaned carefully over the corpse. “Anyone have an ink pen?”

Jane pulled one from the pocket of her apron. Betsy used the pen to carefully move Carolina's hair to one side. “Could you shine that light on her ear? I hope none of you get sick at the sight of blood.”

Kiki maneuvered the lamp. “My gosh. I see it. Something silver sticking out!”

Kendra bent over, took a look, and nodded. “That's right. Someone must have jammed a long knitting needle into Carolina's ear. That would have taken quite a bit of strength.”

“Not too much,” said Betsy. “It's a pretty slender needle.”

Rocky sighed and turned her hands palms up. “That let's me out. I'm strictly a rubber stamp type of girl.”

“The knitting needle in the ear explains her black eyes. They are common with a skull injury,” said Kiki. “Unfortunately, I know that from personal experience.”

Molly nodded. “Gerry, you have the evidence in your pocket, don't you?”

“I think so.” Gerry showed us a small crumpled piece of gold. “This is Sondra Echols’ pin, isn't it? The one she lost?”

“That's right,” said Kiki. “I’ve seen her wear it!”

Betsy nodded. “Godwin and I saw on her, too. We even talked about tracking down the manufacturer and selling them at the store.”

“Is that all you have?” asked Jane.

“No,” said Molly. “Sondra told us she spent the afternoon doing the collage, remember?”

Kendra and Kiki nodded. Kiki added, “But she didn't have any glue on her hands. Have Rocky and April, have either of you ever done collage and not gotten glue on you? Or ink? I haven't.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Kendra ran over to where Kiki had set her shoulder bag in the corner. “Do you mind?” she asked the scrapbooker.

“Of course not,” said Kiki.

Kendra took a baggy for picking up dog poop out of her pocket. Using it as a glove, she pulled out the copy of A Diva's Guide to Crafting that Kiki had retrieved from the trash. “Look,” said the attorney as she pointed to a crimson stain on the pages. “I bet that's Carolina's blood. Maybe Sondra used it to smack Carolina up the side of the head and knock her out first. That's why Sondra was so eager to dump this in the trash.”

With that, Kiki excused herself and made another call, back to her store where her friend Clancy was working late. “Clancy, could you go to our customer files? Look up Sondra Echols, please. What's her address?”

By the time Detective Chad Detweiler walked through the door, we had all the facts down for him and on paper. While the detective and Kiki acted like they were just friends, one glance told us all that the man was totally in love with the scrapbooker. As for Kiki, well, her face took on a special glow the minute the detective arrived. The seven of us stood in a tight clump and explained who killed Carolina and why. “You can't leave, you know,” said the hunky detective. “Not until my team is done here.”

“We weren't leaving the convention center,” said Kiki. “We just wanted to get some dinner. My daughter just texted me that she and Maddie—that's Gerry's granddaughter—already ate. My mother-in-law is on her way to pick them up and take them to a movie, like Gerry and I planned. You will let us go to the bar, won't you, Detweiler? I am so hungry!”

“As long as you don't leave the premises, that's fine by me. It'll take a while for the crime scene techs to finish here. One of the patrol cars is on its way to Mrs. Echols' house right now.” Then Detective Detweiler grinned at us. His green eyes flashed with humor. “You don't suppose I could impose on you ladies and ask you to get me a hot dog? Better yet, how about a bratwurst?”

“We'll do that,” said Kendra, gathering Lexie's leash in one hand. “As long as your police department buys. As legal representative for this crew, I think that's the least you can manage.”

“Sold,” said Detective Detweiler. “I'll get these guys started with the crime scene analysis and come join you.”

We were eating our hotdogs when the long-legged detective pulled up a chair next to Kiki and joined our table. “Ladies, that was a fine piece of crime investigation. I put a call into my boss. Seeing as how most of you are from out-of-town, he suggested I thank you with a little St. Louis hospitality. You saved us hours of police work.”

“What on earth might that be?” asked Betsy Devonshire, patting her hair into place. We'd picked up Godwin and Dinah along the way. All of us were enjoying our food.

The tall detective said, “I figure you've been here all day. That means you haven't seen much of our city.”

“No,” said Gerry. “And I haven't even had the chance to buy any souvenirs.”

“Well, that's just not right,” said Detective Detweiler. “Especially when you put in such a good day's work. I can't take the time to show you the sights, but I can introduce you to a few specialities of the town.” With that, he motioned to a waitress, “Miss? Please bring four platters of toasted ravioli and a round of Budweiser for my friends!”

“You know,” said Rocky with a grin on her face. “This amateur sleuth business suddenly got a lot more promising!”

—The End—


Note: Special thanks to Gus Castellanos for his help with the medical aspects of this story.


~ Meet Our Sleuths ~

Kiki Lowenstein

Kiki Lowenstein’s comfortable world turned upside when her husband was found dead in a hotel room. After taking a job at a scrapbook store in St. Louis, the young mom discovered talents she never knew she had, including an uncanny ability to get involved with murder. With the help of her woman friends and the hunky Detective Chad Detweiler, Kiki’s life is now picture-perfect…um, not!
Photo, Snap, Shot is the newest book in the series.

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Gerry Porter

Now that Geraldine Porter is retired, she’s got more time to devote to her lifelong hobby: dollhouses and miniatures. You’d think the world of shoe-box-size scenes and mini Victorians would be trouble free, but when murders hit her small California town, Gerry and her ten-year-old granddaughter, Maddie, are on the case, sniffing out clues and dealing justice.

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Betsy Devonshire

After an angry divorce, Betsy flees from San Diego to the little town of Excelsior, Minnesota, to live with her sister Margot. Thinking she has found a refuge, she is shocked when her sister is found murdered in her needlework shop, Crewel World. Because she is broke and has nowhere else to go, Betsy decides to try to keep the shop open. She becomes convinced the murder was not a burglary gone wrong, and manages to prove it was a premeditated killing. This is the start of a new part-time career as an amateur sleuth. The current, thirteenth, book in this series is Blackwork, but look for Buttons and Bones in December.

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Kendra Ballantyne

After being wrongly accused of an ethics violation, Kendra Ballantyne, formerly a high-powered Los Angeles attorney, began pet-sitting to feed herself and her dog Lexie, a Cavalier King Charles spaniel, until her innocence was proved. Kendra enjoyed pet-sitting so much that she has continued it while starting a new law career. Only problem is that she has also become a murder magnet. How many times can she and her friends be accused of committing murders? Lots, it seems. Kendra’s next adventure is Feline Fatale, coming in July 2010.

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April Buchert

April Buchert returned to her hometown of Aldenville, PA, broke and friendless. Through her best friend, Deana, she found the Stamping Sisters group. What she didn't count on was finding a skull. That skull has sent her on the path of more bodies and mysteries to solve. In the latest installment, False Impressions, another old murder comes home to roost.

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Molly Pink

After recovering from the death of her husband, Molly Pink has started a new chapter in her life. She’s gotten a job as event coordinator at a Tarzana, California, bookstore and joined the local crochet group, the Tarzana Hookers. Much to Molly’s surprise, she finds that along with putting on author events and perfecting her stitch work, she keeps getting in the middle of murders—much to the chagrin of her homicide detective boyfriend.

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All of our books are available through Amazon, Barnes & Noble Booksellers, Borders and of course, your local independent bookseller!

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Remember: The Killer Hobbies Blog Sisters blog every day (except Sunday, which is the day for news and appearance notices) at http://www.KillerHobbies.blogspot.com

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~Toasted Ravioli—A St. Louis Treat!~

Sure, you can fry these, but Kiki’s recipe is much healthier! Try these with a variety of sauces for a change of pace. They make a great appetizer.

1 package (16 oz.) frozen beef ravioli
¼ C. reduced fat Italian salad dressing
¾ C. Italian seasoned bread crumbs
½ C. Parmesan cheese, grated
1 bottle low fat spaghetti sauce
Pam or cooking spray

1. Cook the ravioli according to the directions on the package. Drain. Cool for 10 minutes. (Be careful to separate the little pillows so you don’t wind up with one BIG ravioli.)

2. Mix the cheese and bread crumbs together. Put the mixture on a plate. Dip the ravioli into the Italian salad dressing, then into the bread crumb/cheese mixture to coat.

3. Place the ravioli on a non-stick baking pan. Give a light spray of Pam. Bake at 400º for 4 minutes, turn them over, give them a mist of Pam, and bake for 4 more minutes or until brown.

4. Serve with spaghetti sauce for dipping.

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Copyright 2010 by Joanna Campbell Slan, Camille Minichino, Mary Kuhfeld, Linda O. Johnston, Terri Thayer, and Betty Hechtman. For information, contact the authors at savetales@aol.com

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part VI: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Molly Pink.


Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind. She saw an angry fan named Sondra Echols approach and threaten Carolina. Betsy Devonshire explains the situation is even more complicated than the seven crafters thought. With a little prodding from Betsy, Jane Kuhn reluctantly admits that she might lose an important contract with the Embroiderer's Guild of America if her financial problems with Carolina aren't resolved. Kendra Ballantyne agrees with Betsy. As an attorney, Kendra believes Jane Kuhn's problems with Carolina's expense reports are the best motive for murder so far. Just when the situation couldn't get any more confusing, Rocky Winchester admits she, too, had acrimonious dealings with the craft diva. But Rocky claims she didn't kill Carolina, and now Molly Pink steps forward with a solution to the crime.


By Betty Hechtman　

“Molly, you’ve got to see these,” my friend Dinah Lyons called. When I turned toward her voice, she was standing in front of a booth called The Yarn Boutique, holding up a handful of glittery crochet hooks.

“I can’t. I have to find Carolina Pettijohn now. Once she gets involved with signing her books, I won’t get a chance to talk to her.” As event coordinator for Shedd & Royal Books and More it was my job to set up author events. As soon as I heard Carolina was going to be traveling to the West Coast next month, I wanted to set something up with her. It would be a win-win. Carolina Pettijohn would sell a lot of books and we’d have a wonderful event. I’d already started to plan on some kind of “make and take” from her book. No need to mention to Carolina that many of the events I put on ended up with an interesting twist. Surely there was at least one project in her book that was disaster proof.

I gave the area the once-over again, and still there was no sign of Ms. Pettijohn. Too late I realized I should have gone up to her when I’d seen her before, even if it had meant interrupting. She’d always been surrounded by a bunch of people. I joined Dinah at the yarn booth. The woman behind the counter handed Dinah one of the gold flecked hooks and some yarn and urged us to try it, explaining they were turbo hooks and guaranteed to make our crocheting go faster.

With yarn and hooks in our hands, it was easy to lose track of time. When I glanced at my watch I didn’t mean to, but I shrieked out loud and dropped the hook and yarn. I stepped back in the aisle and started craning my neck. Where could Carolina be?

Dinah joined me and handed me a bag with a bunch of yarn and several of the turbo hooks. “My treat. It’s the least I can do after you came all the way to St. Louis with me. You have no idea how much I appreciate your coming to my niece's wedding with me.”

“Glad to do it. The wedding was lovely, and we were so lucky she scheduled it the same weekend as the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza,” I said.

“You’ll find her,” Dinah said in a reassuring voice as I looked around. “Carolina has to be around here somewhere. In the meantime, I need a coffee.” She pointed toward a café set up in corner of the hall. “We can watch for her from one of the tables. She’s bound to go by.”

A few minutes later I set my red-eye on one of the small round tables and pulled up a chair. “Great that they have espresso drinks,” Dinah said, drinking through the foam on her cappuccino. I nodded and took a welcome sip of my coffee with a shot of espresso.

“There’s Kendra,” Dinah said as our fellow Angeleno went by. I had met Kendra Ballantyne a while back when she came into the bookstore. We had continued the friendship online. It turned out we had a lot in common – we were both surrounded with animals and both seemed to be murder magnets. As soon as Kendra saw me waving, she came over to the table.

“Have you seen that Pettijohn woman?” I said as Dinah pulled out a chair for Kendra. Her adorable dog Lexie settled under the table. I was pleased to see that Lexie was wearing the cute blue vest I'd made for her last spring. Kendra had told me she was decidedly “uncrafty,” but I saw no reason to let Lexie go without. When Kendra received the vest in the mail, she'd called me first thing to say thanks. I was pretty sure my efforts had sealed our friendship. It's always been my experience that handmade gifts are the best gifts of all.

Kendra looked over the crowd and shrugged. “I saw her a while ago. I know she’s supposed to be signing books soon. Maybe Kiki Lowenstein knows. I think she was acting as her escort.”

While I had read about Kiki Lowenstein in the article about amateur sleuths in Mystery! Magazine, I’d never met her or Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, or April Buchert, who had been featured in the story as well. At least, I'd never met them in person. We’d all chatted online. That was another reason I was so excited about traveling with Dinah to St. Louis. This was the perfect opportunity to put real people with online names. And of course, the other women were just as eager to meet me. I’d been mentioned in the article on amateur sleuths, too. We were all a bit proud of our crime solving abilities, and with good reason.

I recognized the woman in the aqua sweater from the photo that had accompanied the article. After introductions and some mutual admiration, I asked Kiki about the craft queen. Kendra and Dinah expressed their interest, too.

Kiki seemed distraught. “I don’t know what happened to her. I was taking her around the fair floor and all of sudden she just wasn’t there. I thought she might have gone to the rest room, but she never came back.”

A plain woman with thick glasses and a disgruntled expression marched past the table. Kiki grabbed the woman's arm to stop her and her tote bag overflowing with samples and brochures swung against the table with a loud thwack. Kiki introduced Rosie Jackson, Carolina’s creative assistant. When I asked Rosie if she knew where her boss was, she muttered something under her breath. I didn’t hear, but Dinah was sure she said something like “in hell where she belongs.” Kendra offered Rosie a chair, but the other woman begged off.

Rosie started to walk away, then paused, turned and came back to us. “If you really want to find her, I suggest you look in the bar. It’s happy hour, after all.”

“Oh, doggies,” said Kiki. “That doesn't sound good. Poor Jane Kuhn set up this whole convention. I happen to know Carolina agreed to a book signing later this evening. I hope she's sober enough not to make a mess of things.”

I nodded. I had a lot of experience with book signings. Drunk authors are not good for business.

Rosie had barely gone from sight when another woman ran up to our table and interrupted. “Aren’t you Kiki Lowenstein? I recognize your photo from the local paper. I’m Doris Handly. Do you know where Carolina is?”

“Um, no Doris, I don’t.” Poor Kiki turned red. She didn't want to say we'd heard Carolina was in the bar, and I couldn't blame her. After all, Kiki was friends with the organizer. Still, there was no reason I couldn't plant the seed without making an accusation. “You might check in several places. There's a green room behind the back wall. There's also a bar up by the registration table.”

Dinah complimented Doris on her knit shawl and asked to have a closer look. The woman brightened at the compliment and lifted her hair off the collar of her turtleneck and turned model fashion so Dinah could take in the whole thing.
I was still worried about catching up with Carolina. In fact, I was getting more worried each time I looked at my watch.

“Maybe Sondra Echols knows where Carolina is,” Kiki said gesturing toward a woman passing by. “Sondra? Sondra?”

At first the woman seemed to ignore Kiki, but finally, she turned around and came over to the table. Kiki introduced Sondra and explained that she was a customer at her scrapbooking store. Sondra wasn’t any more help than the others. She appeared to have done a lot of shopping at the fair. Her tote bag bulged and Carolina’s book was sticking out of the top. “Consider yourself lucky for not running into her,” Sondra said, looking at me. “I spent my afternoon doing a collage rather than run into her again. That woman was a real you-know-what. By the way, do either of you know where the lost and found is?”

Kiki explained that one of the volunteers at the registration table would probably know. “What did you lose?”

“A pin,” said Sondra. “It was a gift from my knitting club, and I hate to think it’s gone. Speaking of which,” Sondra pulled one of Carolina’s books out of her tote bag and dropped it into the trash. “I don’t know why I’m lugging this around. It's just garbage.”

“Gee,” said Kiki, reaching in and retrieving the book after Sondra left. “Do any of you want it? If not, I'm going to grab it and recycle it. I could take the book back to the store and turn it into a piece of altered art.”

Kendra laughed. “Sounds like exactly what a lot of people would like to do with Carolina!”

At that moment, Jane Kuhn raced up to our table. I’d talked to her earlier when Dinah and I registered. Jane had looked strained then, but nothing compared to now. No doubt being the organizer of this event had gotten to her. She apologized to Dinah, then pulled Kendra, Kiki and me aside. “Ladies, I have a problem and I need your help.”

The urgent tone in her voice kept us from asking more questions on the spot. Instead, we followed her to the edge of the vendor area. A group of woman were standing near a door marked Staff Only. When Kendra, Kiki and I got closer, I recognized the rest of our group from the photo in the amateur sleuth article. How nice to finally meet Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Rocky Winchester and April Buchert!

“This is great,” I said. “Dinah and I were hoping all of us could have dinner together. I’ll go get her.”

“Please,” said Jane. “Please, you can't go anywhere. Not yet. You have to help me!”

“With what?” asked Kiki. “Can't it wait until after dinner?”

That's when Jane begged us to practice our considerable skills as amateur sleuths!


Tomorrow: Join us for the exciting conclusion to "A Crafty Kind of Murder."

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part V: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Kendra Ballantyne, pet-sitter and attorney.


Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. So Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind. She saw an angry fan named Sondra Echols approach and threaten Carolina. Betsy Devonshire explains the situation is even more complicated than the seven crafters thought. With a little prodding from Betsy, Jane Kuhn reluctantly admits that she might lose an important contract with the Embroiderer's Guild of America if her financial problems with Carolina didn’t get resolved. Now Kendra Ballantyne is ready to share her opinion, and since Kendra is an attorney, she has a different perspective on the crime.

By Linda O. Johnston


So here I was, Kendra Ballantyne, pet-sitter and attorney, both extraordinaire, at a crafts festival in St. Louis—the first ever Craft and Hobby Extravaganza, to be exact.

Me, who avoids making anything with my hands that’s any more creative than a legal brief or pooper scooper.

But I love crafts that others do. People have said that my hobby is pets, but I consider them family instead.

In any event, Dante DeFrancisco, the guy in my life, had come to St. Louis to visit a few managers of HotPets stores, the company he owns. Dante is probably wealthier than the U.S. Treasury these days, so I had joined him on his private jet. That meant that my beloved tricolor Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, Lexie, had come along, as had Dante’s German shepherd, Wagner.

Dante’s personal assistant Alfonse had also joined us. Right now, Wagner and Alfonse were conducting an undercover operation for Dante, dropping into HotPets stores unannounced and unidentified to see how they were treated.

Lexie and I could have done that, too. But today, I’d promised to meet up with several friends who were crafts aficionados. We'd met online through our pal Molly Pink, and I was eager to see these women in the flesh, so to speak. And, yes, I wanted to see what Lexie thought of my friends, too. She's very good at sniffing out peoples' personalities.

Sure, we were inside a big convention center, but Lexie was small and portable and perfectly behaved. Besides, she was wearing a bright blue vest that had been crocheted by Molly—who was also showing up at the festival. It was kind of quirky that we would have the chance to catch up with each other here, when we both lived in the L.A. area, but life is like that sometimes.

To top it all off, HotPets had a booth at the event, selling pet supplies. So I was also on a mission for Dante—also somewhat undercover, to make sure the booth was doing well.

As I approached the pet supplies booth, with Lexie heeling at my side, I happened to see someone standing nearby whom I recognized. Not a friend, but a person I’d seen often on TV—Carolina Pettijohn, the world’s most exciting expert on all things craft-related. She was tall and slim and dressed to kill in an absolutely stylish outfit that I was sure she had sewn herself.

Okay, I’m not usually the kind of person who’s impressed by fame, but I have to admit that, this time, I was.

“Hello, Carolina,” I said to her. “Are you interested in pet care products?” I’d no idea if she had a pet of her own. She concentrated on all kinds of crafts on her TV show, but I’d never seen her with any animals as guest stars. But if she was the creative and kind person she seemed to be, she surely had a dog or cat waiting at home at her gorgeously decorated hearth.

“Of course not,” she snapped. “I’m just here waiting for--Oh, there she is. Where have you been, Rosie?” This last was barked to a lady in glasses, small and frumpy and frazzled-looking.

But Rosie, whoever she was, knelt down before responding and gave my eager, friendly Lexie a pat.

I immediately liked Rosie a whole lot more than the apparently nasty craft maven, Carolina.

“Sorry, Carolina,” Rosie said as she rose. “Some people wanted to speak with you—oh, yes, here they come.”

Before I saw who was coming this way, I edged around with Lexie to say hi to the pair of people staffing the booth--both middle-aged women. I introduced myself. “Hi, I’m Kendra Ballantyne, a pet-sitter from Los Angeles. So great that you have a booth here.”

I didn’t mention my connection to their boss Dante.

The Los Angeles part got their attention. It also perked up the ears of Gerry Porter who happened to be standing nearby looking at the miniatures of dogs that Dante had ordered just for this show. "Kendra," she said. "Is that really you? Of course it is! I'd recognize that Cavalier King Charles Spaniel anywhere! How are you and how is Lexie?"

We had a good laugh about meeting at the pet booth instead of at her booth as we had planned. I'd been looking forward to getting to know Gerry better, especially since we both lived in California. With her was her adorable granddaughter, Maddie. Gerry also introduced Lexie and me to Jane Kuhn, apparently the person who’d organized this entire festival.

“Are you a crafts person?” Jane asked me, appearing stressed but nevertheless polite. I noticed that her eyes never left Carolina as the craft diva rummaged through a variety of pet products on the display racks.

“No, a pup person,” I responded. “But crafts are good. I admire crafters.”

“Great.” She turned away from me and toward Carolina. “Carolina, may I talk to you? There are some expense items we really need to talk about. I think reimbursement is—”

“Later,” Carolina all but shouted over her shoulder. “Can’t you see this isn’t the right time for such trivial matters? When does the book signing start? Why haven’t you shown me where it is? Rosie, do you know?” She turned to the lady in glasses.

“Yes. It’s—”

“It’s over there,” said a soft-spoken young woman who’d followed the crowd here. She pointed to the far side of the room, waving a copy of A Diva’s Guide to Crafting. “But first... Er... Carolina, I need to talk to you about a misunderstanding. I’m sure you remember me. The name’s Doris, Doris Handly.”
“Misunderstanding? I don’t think so, Doris, but we can certainly talk.” Carolina glared snootily at this Doris person, but at least she wasn’t shouting. “Although not now, of course.”

Doris apparently wasn’t taking later for an answer. She leaned closer but made no effort to lower her voice. “The thing is, I didn’t mention it on the chatroom I set up for you, but I was really excited that you agreed to look at the needlepoint design I put together and give me your opinion on it. I knew you were busy so I didn’t mind that you hadn’t let me know what you thought for so long, but...well, I waited till this festival to pick up a copy of A Diva’s Guide since I wanted to buy it here and have you autograph it. I looked through it first thing and was absolutely amazed to see that my design was featured in it. I don’t understand why you—”

“Your design? Your design? How dare you claim...? Look, never mind. As long as you don’t mention it ever again, I won’t take any action against you for your terrible, slanderous remark.”

As Carolina stomped away, she was followed by Jane, Rosie and Doris, almost as if they were her entourage. Maybe they were her entourage.

A not especially happy entourage.

I was left gawking after her, and I don’t like to gawk. A few other folks came over to where I was standing. They also followed Carolina with their eyes.

“She’s certainly not the person I thought she was,” said one, who wore a pretty aqua sweater adorned by a multi-colored scarf. “Hi, I’m Kiki Lowenstein.”

I smiled at her. I'd heard Kiki owned a rescue Great Dane. She instantly made a good impression on me by being as interested in Lexie as she was in me.
While Kiki petted my pup, Gerry introduced me to Betsy Devonshire and her assistant, Godwin. “So you're the one who sent me that picture of the beautiful needlepoint pillow with the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel on it!”

“Yes, and I have someone who can make it up for you, if you wish,” said Betsy.

“We can even change the coloring to match this little darling,” said Godwin, pointing to Lexie who was now sitting in Kiki's lap. The scrapbooker had made herself comfortable on the floor so she could better enjoy the attention of my dog.

“Hey, there!” Molly Pink headed our way. Walking with her were Rocky Winchester and April Buchert, her friends who owned a rubber stamping concern. I was happy to meet Rocky and April because Molly had told me they could provide me with a customized stamp of Lexie's likeness. Okay, I'm not crafty, but it still sounded sort of interesting! After everyone had said hello, I took my friend Molly aside. “What’s with the people around here? That organizer was really upset. It seems as tense as a conference full of lawyers.”

“I don’t really know,” she said. “Crafts fairs are usually all about the wonderful handmade things people create, but there’s an atmosphere here...”

“There sure is,” I said. I decided that Lexie and I would leave as soon as we’d spent a little more time looking over the pet supplies booth and making sure the stuff there was of superior quality and price, like all HotPets stuff.

Although maybe I’d buy one of Carolina’s books and hang around just long enough to get her autograph. She was a personality after all, even if her personal personality seemed pretty nasty.

In any event, I had a feeling that Carolina Pettijohn wasn’t through yelling at people. Not tonight at least.


# # #

Kendra Ballantyne finished her report and stared at Jane Kuhn. The small green room had grown uncomfortable with all the accusations in the air. “I know how frustrating working through expense reports can be. There's a real opportunity to misreport them. It's a type of theft, but hard to prove, isn't it? You were certainly angry at Carolina, and you had a lot riding on this convention, didn't you?”

Lexie shivered at the tone of Kendra’s voice, so she reached down to put a soothing hand on the dog’s head.

“But Doris Handly also had a problem with Carolina,” Kendra continued. “Carolina accused her of slander. Maybe the two of them got into a fight. It wouldn't be the first time people became so heated about their reputations. The courts are full of folks who disagree about intellectual property rights and about slanderous comments.”

Rocky Winchester stepped forward. She and April had been largely silent until now. “I think I need to set the record straight. Doris and Jane weren't the only people to have legal issues with Carolina. That witch kept an attorney on staff solely for the purpose of protecting her rights—and for protecting rights she didn't really have! The woman was a black hole when it came to ideas.”

“What?” Kiki Lowenstein's voice went up a notch. “Why? In the scrapbooking world, people swipe each other's ideas all the time.”

Gerry nodded. “That happens in the miniature business, too.”

“And Rosie still could be behind this. It's pretty clear that Carolina doesn't really know very much at all about crafts. Rosie's the brains of the outfit. The creative brains, at least,” said Kiki.

Kendra nodded. “That's true, but it sure would be obvious. I can tell you from my own practice as an attorney that intellectual property rights are a huge issue. A confusing one, too. Litigation about ownership can take years and cost millions. Often people just give up and walk away. But Jane's problem is much more immediate. She would need to wrap up the finances on this convention in order to be solvent for the Embroiderer's Guild of America state convention, isn't that right, Jane?”

Jane nodded, her jaw tight with anger. “That's right. Carolina was playing games with me. Those little tricks could cost me a bundle. It wasn't just about the money I budgeted for this. Kendra, you and Betsy are quite correct. If I couldn't clear my books for this convention, I would be out of consideration for the Embroiderer's Guild of America. Again, I’m telling you I didn't kill her. If I had, would I have asked all of you to help me find the murderer? Not likely!”

Gerry Porter agreed. “We still have plenty of other suspects. Rocky, why don't you tell us what happened between you and Carolina? That would give us an idea what might have happened to cause her death.”

“We still need a concrete motivation and evidence before we call the police,” Betsy reminded everyone.

Rocky shook her head and looked at her sister-in-law. “April, why don't you tell them what happened for me? I'm too angry to talk about it.”


Tomorrow: April Buchert shares her observations.

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part IV: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Betsy Devonshire, needlework store owner.


Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind. She saw an angry fan named Sondra Echols approach and threaten Carolina. Betsy Devonshire explains the situation is even more complicated than the seven crafters probably realize.

By Monica Ferris

Betsy and her store manager Godwin had run into rough weather on the early part of their trip to the big craft fair and so arrived late. Godwin, efficient as he was, was still putting up a display of counted cross stitch models when the show opened.

“Carolina is already on the floor!” he muttered around a mouthful of push pins.

“Who?” Betsy replied, trying to choose five of the best needlepoint canvases from among the dozen they’d brought—the booth was a little smaller than she’d realized, plus she always over-packed, whether clothes or display items.

“Oh, Betsy, don’t you read the brochures?” he sighed, spitting pins into his palm as he stood back to look over the effect he was creating. “Carolina Pettijohn, of course. She’s here!”

“Yes, I read the brochures,” she said grumpily. “I just didn’t understand what you were saying with that mouthful. Your display looks very nice. Do you think I should use the Margaret Murton or the Melissa Shirley canvas?”

He came for a closer look at what she had done, then stepped out into the aisle, a sylph-like shape in blond and light blue to stand with a forefinger wrapped around his chin to consider her arrangement from a prospective-customer-arriving point of view. “Oh, the Margaret Murton, definitely,” he said after just a moment. "It’s picking up the colors of the Margaret Boyles bargello piece.”

So it was—Betsy saw that now. She had developed a good eye for color after owning a needlework shop for several years, but Godwin’s appeared innate.

“Oh, my God, here she comes, and here she is!” Godwin exclaimed, eyes shining, hands clasped under his chin. “Oh, Ms. Pettijohn, how sweet of you to visit our booth!” He was crouching, almost bowing in a direction behind Betsy‘s back.

Betsy turned to see a tall, slim, stylish woman approaching, accompanied by a much plainer woman with thick eyeglasses. “Carolina Pettijohn!” she said, smiling, “you are even more beautiful in person than on television. I’m so pleased you are visiting the Crewel World booth.”

“Cruel world?” repeated Carolina, startled. Her face betrayed her confusion. “But your display is beautiful! Are you a painter? Those are good paintings.”

“It’s Crewel World,” said Betsy, pointing to the sign and picking up on Carolina’s monosyllabic pronunciation. “And no, I didn’t paint them—”

“I used to paint,” said Carolina. “But what horrible canvases these are painted on! Why, the weave is so loose you can almost see through them.”

“Carolina,” the woman with her said, pushing her glasses back up on her nose. “These are needlepoint canvases, they are meant to be stitched over.”

“Oh? Of course! I’m so sorry, it’s just that they are so charming, I thought they were paintings.” She turned to Betsy. “This is a craft fair, you know. It’s hard to instantly understand what craft one is looking at.” She let her gaze go to another area of the booth. “Ah, and these are finished needlepoints, am I right? Work that has been stitched over?”

“No,” said Betsy, a little startled that Carolina couldn’t tell the difference between counted cross stitch and needlepoint.

“Those are counted cross stitch, Carolina,” said the bespectacled woman, sounding a trifle cross or impatient.

“Of course, of course. I can see that now.”

“Would it be possible to persuade you to autograph some copies of your latest book?” asked Godwin. “We carry all your books in our shop.”

“How nice!” said the woman in eyeglasses.

“But I don’t have time for that. Bring them to the official signing later,” said Carolina. “You can stand in line with the rest of the autograph seekers. Okay, who’s next on the tour?” She turned and started away.

Godwin watched her go and said, in a diminished voice, “She’s not at all like she is on television. You know, interested.”

“Maybe she’s tired,” said Betsy. “She’s out of her time zone, after all.”

“I think she’s a witch,” said a new voice, and they turned to see Kiki Lowenstein.

“Talk about being disillusioned,” said Kiki in a low voice. “I used to think that woman could walk on water. Now I think I’d like to drown her. Did you notice how she doesn’t seem to know a whole lot about crafting? In fact, I don’t know how she wrote those wonderful books.”

“Maybe she didn’t,” said Betsy.

“Who was the lady with the thick glasses?” asked Godwin.

“Rosie Jackson,” said Kiki. “She’s Carolina’s creative assistant. Why?”

“Because she knows counted cross stitch from needlepoint on sight.”

Kiki frowned at him. “And Rosie understood right away the importance of a new dry embossing machine, while I don’t think Carolina did. And when we were visiting my friend, Gerry Porter, who is a fine miniaturist, Carolina practically threw up at the idea that she should maybe get a little glue on her hands.”

Betsy said, “So maybe Carolina is just a glamorous front for the real artist, Rosie Jackson. Is that what you’re thinking?”

Godwin nodded. “No one who gave such a lucid description of the basketweave stitch in her book would be confused between needlepoint and counted cross stitch.”

The four of them looked at the tall, glamorous woman and her dumpy companion making their way down the broad but crowded aisle. Already a cluster of women was surrounding Carolina, exclaiming and holding out programs for an autograph.

“Oops!” cried Kiki. “I’m supposed to be clearing their way. Talk to you later!” She pushed her way out into the crowd.

Even those who didn’t press close to Carolina looked thrilled or excited at seeing her, with one exception. A young woman in a white turtleneck and a knit fringed shawl was moving slowly in her direction. She carried a rather worn copy of A Diva’s Guide to Crafting—she wasn’t a fan, out for an autograph. The expression on her face was a curious combination of yearning and hate.

Godwin elbowed Betsy. “Do you see that pin she has on the collar of her turtleneck? I think we should stock those at the store. I’ll ask her where she got it.”

Doris Handly came in to buy a second canvas. She had stopped by earlier, while they were in the midst of setting up and was drawn to the more expensive yarns and threads, so of course Betsy stopped putting out flosses to sell her a small canvas by a well-known designer. Betsy could tell that Doris was an expert needlewoman by the knowledgeable questions she asked. Now the young woman was back and bought a second canvas. “It's a big day for me,” she said shyly.

As a matter of courtesy, after processing the woman's credit card payment, Betsy thanked her by name. “I hope you enjoy your purchase, Doris,” said Betsy. Doris Handly, thought Betsy with a chuckle. That was a great moniker for a needlecrafter.

Doris had just taken the bag from Betsy's hands when she spotted Carolina at another booth and moved toward the diva with purpose.

Hours later, as the day was drawing to a close, Betsy surreptitiously removed a shoe to wriggle her aching toes. Godwin was wrapping things up beside the cash register.

“How’d we do?” she asked.

“Not too bad. I wish we’d brought more copies of Margaret Boyles’ book, since we’ve only got two copies left. Every time I think bargello is out, it comes back in again. On the other hand, we may have over-estimated the number of copies of Carolina’s The Diva Decorates and the copies of her other books that we’d need.”

“It would’ve helped if not every other booth had copies for sale, too,” grumbled Betsy. “And that she’s doing a special book signing event with her new book later tonight. We should’ve thought of that.”

“Well, I’ll take what we have to the signing tonight. They’ll sell like hotcakes back at the shop if they’re autographed. Have you heard the latest rumor?”

“What’s that?” Betsy began to work her foot back into her shoe.

“Jane Kuhn is fit to be tied because Carolina flew here first class on the convention’s dime. Jane had authorized Carolina to fly coach.”

“I don’t think Carolina has flown coach for a long time,” said Betsy, smiling at the image of long-legged Carolina crammed into a bargain seat.

“So if she wanted to fly first class, she should have paid the difference out of her own pocket. I also hear she reserved the presidential suite instead of a regular one, also on the con’s dime.”

“Rude of her.”

“Yes, but you see, the line between breaking even and losing money at an event like this is very thin. And Carolina may have crossed the line for them.”

“Uh-oh,” said Betsy. “I happen to know Jane was up for the task of running the next Embroiderer’s Guild of America state convention. She won’t get it if she can’t stay on budget. Is Jane angry?”

“Fit. To. Be. Tied,” pronounced Godwin.


# # #

“Jane, I hate to be rude,” said Betsy, “but you have every reason to want to see Carolina dead, don't you? I mean, if you had to pay her expenses, and they were over what you budgeted, you would have had a real problem. That shortfall would have made it hard for you to submit a good balance sheet to the governing board of the Embroiderer’s Guild of America.”

“But what about the books?” asked Kiki. “Jane needed Carolina alive so she could sign them.”

“The books could be returned to the publisher,” explained Molly Pink.

“Oh,” said Kiki.

Jane fumed. “Yes, yes, that’s right. Everything you said is true. But I’m telling you I did not kill Carolina!”

“Wait a minute,” Kendra Ballantyne interrupted. “Betsy, did you say your customer's name was Doris Handly? If that's the case, I need to tell you what I saw happen.”

Tomorrow: Kendra Ballantyne shares her observations.

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part III: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Gerry Porter, miniaturist.

Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Since all of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly or the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza will be shut down! Kiki Lowenstein explains that Carolina Pettijohn's creative assistant Rosie Jackson was taking money from vendors wanting Carolina to spotlight their products. Kiki thinks Rosie might have been the killer. Gerry Porter has another suspect in mind.


by Margaret Grace (Camille Minichino)

When I spotted my friend Kiki heading down the aisle, I quickly pulled a wipe from a packet and used it to scrape the tacky glue off my hands. I waved her over, but I wasn't sure she saw me. People were milling in the aisles, some stopping to shop, others trying to squeeze through. It was one of the most widely attended craft and hobby fairs I'd ever been to and I was glad I'd decided to come. I wished I could leave my booth for a while to see some of the new products all around us. Of course, I might be able to slip out later, when it was quieter. The place was so busy that I was doubly glad I'd brought my granddaughter Maddie along. Maddie was great with customers. I could tell she was really looking forward to spending time with Kiki's twelve-year-old daughter Anya. The two girls had been corresponding by email and wanted to see a new teen movie together. Kiki’s mother-in-law had offered to play chaperone. I was thrilled because that would give Kiki and me time to chat.

One thing about having miniatures as a hobby—you needed to know something about every craft. Maddie and I knitted afghans for our dollhouse living rooms; we crocheted scarves for the dressers; we made tiny quilts (well, here we cheated and glued the pieces down instead of sewing them!) for the beds; we had needlepoint hangings on the walls, and tiny paper crafts in room boxes and dollhouse cottages. No wonder a fair like this, with all crafts represented, was so exciting to me.

It had been six months since I'd seen Kiki, at a big craft fair on the west coast. I loved Kiki's sense of humor. She had a great flair to her, making even a simple pair of jeans and a sweater look very stylish. I felt very matronly beside her, but she never treated me as anything but as cool as she was.

I felt someone tugging at my smock—Maddie Porter, my ten-year-old, going on twenty-year-old granddaughter and partner in making dollhouses and miniature room boxes.

“Grandma, look who's coming, look who's coming!” Maddie was in the repeating stage.

“I see,” I told her. “It's Kiki!”

“No, no, Grandma. Well, I remember her, too, but look who's right in front of them!”

I adjusted my glasses and surveyed the crowd. It was hard to tell whom Maddie was referring to. “Who is it that you recognize, sweetheart?” I asked her.

By this time, Maddie was jumping up and down, as only a skinny ten-year-old can. “Carolina! Carolina Pettijohn, from television, Grandma! She's on television!”

“So I gather.” I didn't have much time for television watching, and wondered how come my granddaughter did and still managed to make the honor roll.

“You should see her show, Grandma. She does every kind of craft. I mean, every kind, and she even wrote a book about them. She's the best miniaturist I ever saw.” Maddie looked at me, wide-eyed, and then covered her mouth with her hand. “Oops. You know, not as good as you are, though.” She circled my waist with her arms and squeezed and her little slip-up was forgiven.

The next thing I knew, the woman Maddie knew as Carolina Pettijohn and another woman, who had the thickest glasses I'd ever seen, were standing smack in front of our booth. Kiki had come around to the side and I leaned over to embrace her. I didn't mean to be rude to the television star, but friends came first in my book.

While I spent a couple of minutes getting caught up with Kiki, my granddaughter had filled in for me, oohing and aahing over Carolina's long crocheted scarf. “Did you make that?” she asked the icon.

“I … uh—,” the woman with the glasses began.

“Of course I made it,” Carolina told Maddie. I didn't like the condescension in her voice. As far as I was concerned, children needed crafter role models who were also polite, nice human beings.

“Who are these women?” I whispered to Kiki.

“It was supposed to be an honor to meet her,” she said. “I really looked forward to it!”

“And that’s changed?”

“Absolutely,” Kiki said. “We’ll talk more later.”

We moved to the center of the booth where Maddie was showing Carolina her newest creation, making lovely miniature flowers from soft, shredded foam in many colors. Maddie dipped a piece of wire into a small pot of glue, then rolled the wire in a container of dark purple foam. She shaped the foam into an arrangement that made it look like an iris. She added a bit of green right under the purple.

“Ta-da!” she said, pleased with her work. She handed a piece of wire to Carolina and moved the pot of tacky glue close to the edge of the table so Carolina could reach it. “Here, you try it,” she said, her voice still excited.

Carolina frowned and stepped back from the table, as if Maddie had served up an evil-smelling dish. “Puh-leeze! I just had my nails done. Do you really think I'd ruin a $200 manicure with some cheap glue?”

Maddie's eyes widened, maybe at the idea of a $200 nail job, or maybe because, as far as I knew, no one had ever spoken to her that way.

Then next moment was even more startling. A woman came up to the booth and addressed Carolina. A group of her friends stood behind the newcomer and watched.

“Carolina, I’m sure you remember me…I’m Sondra Echols, the woman who started your first fan club. And these are fan club members. Would you mind signing this for me?” The stocky fan held out a copy of Carolina’s first book, A Diva’s Guide to Crafting. Carolina hesitated. Sondra pushed the book toward the diva. A gold pin on Sondra's blouse trembled with excitement as she spoke. “Could you say something about how I helped you get started?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Carolina. “No one helped me get started.”

Sondra’s cheeks were red, as if she were very angry. “After all I’ve done for you?”

“Sondra,” Rosie said, but was quickly cut off.

Sondra leaned into Carolina. “Don't think this is over,” she said. “I don't like being made a fool of.”

In a flash, Rosie ushered Carolina down the aisle.

My granddaughter summed it up.

“I guess sometimes people aren't the way they seem on television, huh, Grandma?”

Out of the mouths of babes. “I guess not, sweetheart.”

I was grateful for one thing: instead of being taken in by celebrity, Maddie had learned a valuable lesson.


# # #

“Right now, I’m thankful that Maddie and Anya are taking a crafting class just for young teens,” said Gerry, by way of wrapping up.

Kiki nodded. “You’re right. The girls don’t need to be anywhere near this mess. Besides, they’re probably having a blast in their class. I bet they’ll learn a few new skills.”

“Unlike Carolina,” said Gerry. “As soon as I met her, I figured it might be too late for her to learn anything. Especially common courtesy.”

“You’ve got that right,” said Jane, with a snort of disgust. “Even so. I sure didn’t want her to wind up dead. Especially with the book signing yet to come.” Jane covered her eyes with her palms and sighed. “What will I tell all those people?”

“Kiki, you might be on to something with the idea that bribes are involved,” said Gerry. “But I have to say, my mini-money is on the murderously mad Sondra Echols.”

“I don't know,” said Kiki. “Sondra comes to a lot of the crops at our store. She's loud and she can seem pushy, but she's really a pussy cat. I can't imagine her actually hurting Carolina. Honestly, I can't.”

The other crafters had been listening carefully. Betsy Devonshire said, “I wish it were that simple. I mean, it would be nice if we could just rely on our intuition about people. Unfortunately, what we need is more information. More facts. Let me tell you what my store manager Godwin and I observed.”

# # #

Tomorrow: Betsy Devonshire shares her observations.

A Crafty Kind of Murder (Continued)

"A Crafty Kind of Murder" Part II: Observations in the Murder of Carolina Pettijohn, submitted by Kiki Lowenstein, scrapbooker.


Previously in "A Crafty Kind of Murder":

Seven online friends—Kiki Lowenstein, Gerry Porter, Betsy Devonshire, Kendra Ballantyne, Rocky Winchester, April Buchert and Molly Pink—are all visiting the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza in St. Louis when the event organizer Jane Kuhn asks them to solve the murder of her celebrity guest, Carolina Pettijohn. Kiki thinks she knows "whodunnit" so she leads off with reviewing the facts as she knows them. Since all seven of the crafters/hobbyists are also amateur sleuths, they hope to put their heads together and solve the crime quickly so the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza won't be shut down!

By Joanna Campbell Slan

“She puts her panties one leg at a time, just like the rest of us. Even if hers are silk with lace trim.”

That's what I kept telling myself as I contemplated meeting my personal idol, diva crafter Carolina Pettijohn.

I forced myself to take calming breaths as I stood in the line at the registration table. But who could blame me for being rattled? For one thing, I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep—and I’d gotten up at dawn! Heck, I’d even changed clothes several times this morning until I finally paired nice jeans from Goodwill with a simple aqua crewneck sweater from Target. By adding a multi-colored scarf at my neck, this passed as a dressy outfit…barely.

As I pulled into the packed parking lot at the St. Louis Convention Center, I bet that my old friend Jane Kuhn was feeling proud of herself. She was the bright spark who invited Carolina to be the Guest of Honor at the inaugural Craft and Hobby Extravaganza. Being a nervous sort, I even prepped seeing Carolina by reading every scrap of information about her that I could find.

Carolina Pettijohn started as a teacher’s helper in Stuart, Florida. She stepped in one week when an unprepared substitute teacher couldn’t manage. For five magical school days, the kids brought home stunning projects. The principal fielded calls from eager moms who wanted to know who designed all those “adorable handicrafts.” A visiting reporter from the Sun Sentinel was sitting across from the principal’s desk and overheard the calls.

The resultant full-page color article in the Lifestyle Section generated an overwhelming response. On the heels of that first article came an offer for Carolina to syndicate a column and star in the wildly popular “Crafting with Carolina” television show. An icon was born in the crafting community.

An icon with tens of thousands of followers. Most of them were lined up in front of me at the registration table. Directly behind the table, I could see the huge ballroom, already bustling with vendors and their booths. Carolina's name had carried the day. Jane had phoned me last night saying the event was sold out. Jane had ordered a thousand copies of Carolina’s newest book, The Diva Decorates, in preparation for the booksigning event to take place this evening. The convention center sure looked packed to me. Crafters eager to go inside pressed against the velvet restraining ropes. Huge mounted posters listed the various leisure pastimes represented. I was especially interested in the vendors representing needlework, crocheting, rubber stamping, miniatures, and pet supplies, because those were the interests I shared with my online friends: Gerry Porter, the miniaturist; Betsy Devonshire, the owner of a needlework store; Kendra Ballantyne, the pet-sitter and attorney; Rocky Winchester and April Buchert, the rubber stamping aficionados; and Molly Pink, a bookstore event coordinator and crocheter.

While I’d met Gerry in person at another craft fair, this would be the first time I’d meet my other virtual friends in the flesh. Once again, I was glad I’d taken the time to find the right outfit. Knowing I looked my best went a long way toward calming my nerves.

A volunteer tapped me on the shoulder. “You’re Kiki Lowenstein? Jane Kuhn has been asking for you.”

I made my way to the back of the ballroom. There, in a cordoned off area, Jane greeted me warmly.

“Thanks a million, Kiki. I’m feeling overwhelmed. Would you mind being Carolina’s escort? She's waiting in her own special room just beyond that door. Just keep her moving along. Introduce her, help her get what she wants, and then help her move on to the next victim, uh, vendor. Oh, she here comes now.”

A door disguised as one of the convention hall walls opened. I held my breath. I couldn’t believe I was finally meeting my idol! Carolina Pettijohn! The one, the only—Carolina, Queen of Crafts!

Actually, one look told me it was more like “Carolina, Clearly Having a Bad Day.”

She squinted at Jane, then at me, back to Jane, and snarled, “I guess she’ll have to do. Don’t you have any men in this town? Isn’t St. Louis known for sports and beer?”

That shocked me. I’m the original Mrs. Nice Guy, and I have the scars to prove it.

“Carolina, let me explain this to you,” said Jane. “We’re Midwesterners, and our crowd is a very friendly group of honest, hard-working—”

But Jane was interrupted by a plain, heavyset woman wearing thick spectacles who stepped from behind the diva and shook my hand. “Hi, I’m Rosie Jackson. I have the list of booths we want to visit. See, I do all Carolina’s creative—”

“The sooner we get started, the faster I can get back to the bar.” Carolina pushed past us.

“Please don’t forget we’re expecting you at the book signing later. That’s what you agreed to in your contract!” Jane said. Her voice cracked with tension. "The contract!” she repeated.

Carolina gave Jane a dismissive wave of her hand and stalked off. Rosie and I struggled to catch up to the diva.

“Our first stop is at the Impressed for Success booth,” said Rosie, after consulting her notebook.

We rounded the corner and approached the booth. I stepped forward and made a very Vanna White-ish gesture toward our guest star. “Hi, we have Carolina Pettijohn with us. She’d like a tour of your booth. Please show her any new products you might want her to feature in her syndicated column or on her program.”

The two owners of Impressed for Success immediately introduced Carolina to their new system of dry embossing. Unlike previous systems, this new hand-cranked machine could actually create impressions on a full 12 by 12 inch sheet of cardstock. To prove just how incredibly cool this would be, one of the owners ran a piece of Core’dinations through their gizmo.

“If you buff the cardstock, the impressions are revealed in a second color.” One of the owners handed Carolina a sanding block.

Carolina scrunched up her face and said, “So?”

“Oh, for pity’s sake.” Rosie grabbed both cardstock and sander. In seconds, she expertly buffed off the top layer of the Core’dinations to reveal the cool second color and the new pattern.

Which was awesome.

But Carolina didn’t get it. She just stared at the paper as if witnessing a magic act.

“That’s a super product, and we’ll feature it. Bag up that sample with your business card, and we’ll get back to you. Mail it to us at this address.” Rosie handed over a card and then leaned close to whisper to the two vendors.


# # #

Kiki finished her recitation and waited expectantly at her six friends.

Betsy Devonshire frowned. “That doesn't sound like anything out of the ordinary.”

“Oh, that's not all,” Kiki said. “When Rosie took the goods from the vendors, I think she told them they needed to include a check--and I think she wanted it made out to her personally!”

The scrapbooker turned to Jane. “I think Rosie is the killer. I have a hunch that she was soliciting money from people who wanted Carolina to pimp their products. I bet she and Carolina quarreled over the money, and Rosie lost her temper. I mean, notice that Rosie isn't here? It's her job to stick with Carolina.”

“Actually,” said Jane. “Rosie is in one of the make-and-take sessions right now. Has been for the past hour. One of the volunteers confirmed it over my walkie-talkie.”

Rocky frowned. “But where was Rosie earlier?”

“I think I need to share what I saw,” said Gerry Porter. “Because I have another suspect in mind.”


Tomorrow: Gerry Porter shares her observations.

A Crafty Kind of Murder

What happens when seven crafty sleuths try to take a hobby holiday? The tangled web of crime follows them! They might be amateurs when it comes to crime detection, but these women are professionals in the world of handicrafts and hobbies. Join scrapbooker Kiki Lowenstein, miniaturist Gerry Porter, needlearts expert Betsy Devonshire, pet-sitter and attorney Kendra Ballantyne, rubber stampers Rocky Winchester and April Buchert, and crochet enthusiast Molly Pink as they put their heads together to solve the worst sort of murder possible, the crafty kind.


By Joanna Campbell Slan, Margaret Grace, Monica Ferris, Linda O. Johnston, Terri Thayer, and Betty Hechtman


"A Crafty Kind of Murder"
Part I


Jane Kuhn opened the door cleverly disguised with the same grass cloth that covered the rest of the St. Louis Convention Center walls. The organizer of the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza waited patiently for us to file in. Which we did in a noisy, curious way. Jane was used to corralling her volunteers, not seven crafty hobbyists.

“What’s behind door number two?” Molly Pink muttered as Jane gestured toward the room.

A ladies’ boudoir, evidently. The small space had been transformed into a cozy sitting room. Some kind of parachute had been hung to disguise the industrial ceiling. An area rug covered the concrete floor. A television and DVD player sat on a table in front of a pale pink corduroy recliner. A granny square crocheted afghan lay across the back.

Behind the chair, a red drapery hung crookedly, concealing whatever was behind it.
“Imagine that,” said Betsy Devonshire. “A red ‘green room.’”

“A red green room?” asked Kiki Lowenstein.

“That's right,” said Betsy. “A ‘green room’ is what you call a staging room for celebrities. For some reason, these were traditionally painted green.”

Jane pointed around the room. “This décor is what our star, Carolina Pettijohn, requested. She wouldn’t appear unless we fixed up a green room to her specifications. Her contract was twelve pages long.”

“Sounds more like a list of demands,” Gerry Porter said.

“That’s not far from the truth,” Jane admitted.

A long table, laden with food and drink, hugged the wall. A pyramid of protein bars acted as a centerpiece. Pitchers of iced tea and water had sweated, leaving damp spots on the lace tablecloth. A basket of fruit was piled high with a pineapple sticking out in the middle. One apple had a bite out of it and was turning brown. We gathered around as if we hadn’t eaten in a week. It was the end of a long day, and we were all hungry.

“Hey,” Kendra Ballantyne said, studying the array of candy on the table. “Not that I’m a Skittles fan, but I definitely know what they look like. There are no yellow Skittles in this bowl.”

“Exactly,” Jane said. “Welcome to the world of Carolina Pettijohn, where yellow Skittles are banned and walls must be draped in red silk.”

Betsy Devonshire touched the length of fabric. “Don’t tell her this is polyester.”

“Don't worry. I won't. Besides, she’s in no position to complain,” Jane said. "Not now.”

The seven of us had followed Jane a long distance from the show floor with all the vendors but we were still inside the convention center. In fact, we could still hear the light-hearted music of the Chapeau Parade that had just begun when Jane asked us for our help. While we were stuffed in this odd little room, all the other crafters were enjoying themselves, showing off their hats, and winning prizes. None of us were pouting, but all of us wished we were somewhere else. Preferably someplace that served food. Real food.

Of our band of seven, only Kiki Lowenstein represented the local crafting community. In fact, Kiki had recently become part owner of Time in a Bottle, a local papercrafting store less than two miles away from the convention center. Betsy Devonshire, plump, blond and fifty-ish, was the owner of a needlework shop in Excelsior, Minnesota. But most of our group had come from California. There was Gerry Porter, a retired high school English teacher and miniaturist from Lincoln Point; Kendra Ballantyne, a lawyer-turned-pet-sitter from LA; and Molly Pink, the event coordinator at a Tarzana, California, bookstore that hosted a local crochet group, the Tarzana Hookers. Two members of our unofficial band had traveled all the way from Aldenville, Pennsylvania. April Buchert had come to the show with the Stamping Sisters owner, and her future sister-in-law, Rocky Winchester.

Yes, all in all, we were quite the group of talented crafters! We also represented the far-flung reaches of the national crafting and hobbyist community. But it wasn’t our eminence in our industries that had caused Jane to gather us together at the end of day one of the Craft and Hobby Extravaganza.

No, it was something much more sinister.

It was our respective abilities to track down a murderer.

Of course, we didn't know that when Jane pulled back a curtain cordoning off a corner of the green room.

We gasped as if one.

The dead body of Carolina Pettijohn rested on a day bed. If there was one woman who represented the national popularity of crafts and hobbies, it was Carolina. Her famous face, seen daily on her own craft show, adorned the face of C, her magazine. In fact all of us were wearing her image on the ID badge that gave us access to the event.

“Gosh,” said Kiki, as her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“She’s dead?” Betsy said. But it was clear the diva had gone on to that big craft room in the sky. Carolina’s skin was waxy pale, and her chest was still. However, she also had two black eyes.

“Worse,” Jane said.

“It can get worse than dead?” asked April.

“She was murdered.” Jane sighed. “At least I think she was. There’s a trickle blood coming out of her right ear. Plus, this place is a mess.”

A trash can was dumped over, Carolina’s body was sprawled across the day bed, and her blouse was askew. On the floor beside her rested a cola can with a portion of its contents leaking onto the rug. Clearly there had been a bit of a struggle.

We looked at each other. Now it made sense. The connecting thread. Each of us had solved at least a murder or two. We knew our way around a crime scene. We’d dealt with murderous spouses, jealous lovers, and conspiring colleagues.

Even so, our expressions must have been bleak.

“I'm so sorry to spring this on you,” moaned Jane. “But I don't know what else to do! You ladies are my only hope. I suppose by now everyone has read that article about the seven of you in Mystery! Magazine.”

We nodded. We’d all gained a modicum of fame as crafters who sidelined as amateur sleuths.

“It's not like I've never seen a dead body before,” said Gerry. “But I'll admit, I didn't expect to see one here. This was supposed to be a vacation! Thank goodness my granddaughter isn't here with me.”

“Oh, heck,” said Kendra. “I’m a murder magnet back in L.A. these days, but I never expected it to follow me here.”

Rocky grumbled. “So far, I’ve seen nothing about St. Louis to recommend it. Now this?”

April elbowed her. “Be nice!”

“I was being nice,” said Rocky. “That was actually the edited version. We traveled all those hours for this? A dead body?”

“Jane, did you call the police?” Kiki asked. “I know a detective…he investigated my husband’s murder.”

Jane shook her head violently. “I'll call the authorities...but not just yet, please! Word will get out that she’s dead. The police will shut the show down. My life savings are invested in this.”

She let the curtain fall shut and tottered over to a folding chair. Covering her face with her hands she said, “You don't understand. It’s everything I have. I'll lose my house. I'll be out on the streets. Please, can’t you help me? If we can figure out who did before the cops arrive, maybe I can keep the show up and running.”

“Do you have any idea who might have done this?” Gerry asked. She stepped closer to a folding card table. Something crackled under her foot. “What was that?”

“Probably one of those stupid Skittles,” said Molly Pink.

Since Gerry was a wizard about turning “found” items into small miniatures, she quickly bent over and picked up the item from the floor. Holding it to the light, she saw it was a small gold pin shaped like a bowl full of spaghetti. Gerry slipped it into her pocket.

“I think I know who did it,” said Kiki. “But I'd like the rest of you to confirm my suspicions. Do you mind if I start from the beginning?”

Betsy nodded and put a kindly hand on Kiki's shoulder. “Of course. That's the best policy. We've all had a shock. How about starting with your arrival?”

Kendra agreed. “That way we won't miss any clues.”

Molly smiled. “It's like unraveling a piece when you make a mistake as you crochet it. You have to get your bearings.”

April and Rocky shrugged. “Here we go.”



Tomorrow: Kiki Lowenstein shares her observations in Part II of "A Crafty Kind of Murder"

Auction Action at Malice and How We Wrote Our Progressive Story

THE AUCTION ITEM FOR MALICE



Yesterday I finished the scrapbook page above, which will be auctioned off at Malice Domestic this coming weekend. It was truly a labor of love! To read more about it, go to my blog.

I'm also hosting a table, and the kind folks at Spotted Canary gave me the cutest bags to give away as table favors. They are simply adorable!

In my session on Sunday, I'll give away a cute tee shirt. Betty Hechtman and I will also make appearances in the hospitality room. I hope to give away candy and bookmarks. I've been adding ribbons to my newest bookmarks, which are purple to match my book cover.

Yes, it's a busy time! When a book first comes out, you have a nice window of six to eight weeks where it feels like every second counts.

HOW WE WROTE THE PROGRESSIVE STORY

Once we decided this was something we wanted to do, we noodled around different ideas. The emails flew back and forth. With so many creative minds at work, we had plenty of ways to commit a crafty murder. We discussed exactly whom we should kill. That was pretty easy. But the killer? Well, we didn't want to be too obvious or too trite, so that was a bit more dicey.

We started with a premise, a simple "who does what to whom, and where, and how and why." Monica had a great idea for how to do someone in. Then Terri Thayer got us started with a wonderful introduction. We each contributed a portion starring our protagonists. We quickly noticed a problem: We write in different POVs or Points of View. That stumped us. We didn't want the piece to seem choppy. So we had to figure out how that could work.

That took a bit of doing.

If we all changed to a single POV, we worried that we'd lose the "voice" of our individual characters. And that was the goal. We hoped that those of you who were fans of one of us might discover another character that you'd like to get to know better. So diluting the "voice" of each author wasn't an option.

Finally, we realized that we could have each protagonist "report" on what she saw.

Big aha! That worked!

Along the way, we'd changed few names of suspects. We also needed to figure out what the clues were and how exactly we'd share them. That was more of an editing challenge than anything else.

We realized we needed to figure out how to bring any new readers up to speed each day. Hmmm. The idea came to us while watching a TV program. I'm curious as to whether you'll be able to guess which program when you read the second day's intro.

Betty Hechtman was kind enough to pull everything together with a conclusion.

I have to say, while this was all a creative challenge, it was also a great joy. It was fascinating to see how each of us worked. And everyone was such a pro. When we noticed a problem or a concern, we shared it. No one got fussy. Everyone understood that our goal was the best possible end product...for YOU.

I can't wait to hear what all of you think! The final novella weighs in at more than 12,000 words. So we've created a "short story" that is actually the length of a short book.

I hope you love it! Please tell your friends so they can read along, too!