Tapestry of Lies: A Weaving Mystery by Carol Ann Martin Page B

up the phone.
    “Is this Della Wright?” asked a voice I didn’t recognize.
    “Yes, it is.”
    “Hello, Della. This is Rhonda McDermott. I’m sorry to disturb you, but I think you and I left with each other’s bags this evening. I got home a little while ago, and when I went into my bag, I discovered somebody else’s wallet inside. I checked the driver’s license and it’s yours. I’m sorry about the inconvenience. Your bag looks so much like mine, it was an easy mistake to make. The only difference is yours has a silver clasp instead of a gold one. Still, it was silly of me not to check before leaving.”
    I remembered how abruptly the McDermotts had left. “Well, if you’re right, then I made the same mistake.”
    “Would you mind taking a look at the bag you have?”
    “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” I walked through the dining room under the curious glances of my friends. I explained. “Rhonda McDermott and I seem to have left with each other’s purses.”
    Marnie muttered something indistinct. I picked up the purse from the foyer console where I’d left it and looked inside. Sure enough, instead of my familiar black leather wallet, there was a brown suede one. I hurried back to the telephone. “Hello, Mrs. McDermott? You’re right. I do have your bag. I’m just sitting down to dinner, but if you like, I can drop it off later this evening.”
    “Actually, I’d rather you stopped by tomorrow morning, if you don’t mind. Maybe just before we open—say, seven forty-five or so?”
    We agreed on the time and I returned to the table, where the mere mention of the McDermotts’ name had put Marnie in a bad mood.
    “And do you know,” she was saying, “that they copied every single one of my recipes, right down to my burnt-caramel muffins, which are my own personal creation? They even copied my pies and my cakes.”
    Jenny smiled soothingly. “But none of them taste anywhere as good as yours.”
    Marnie leaned back in her chair, pushing her plate away. “I wish I could be sure of that.”
    “If it will make you feel better,” I said, “I have to drop by their shop tomorrow morning. While I’m there, I’ll pick up an assortment of their pastries and we can have a taste test.”
    Marnie frowned worriedly. “But she knows you and Jenny work right next to each other—in the same space, for heaven’s sake. Won’t she figure out what you’re doing?”
    I shrugged. “What is she going to do? Take her bag and kick me out? I already know who the winner will be. Your baked goods will outshine theirs, hands down. And then you’ll be able to stop worrying about those people once and for all.”
    “The only way I’ll stop worrying about them is if they went bankrupt.”
    Jenny looked shocked. “Marnie! You should never wish harm on others. It brings bad karma.”
    Marnie looked only slightly embarrassed. “Okay then, if they moved out of town.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t know why they had to be such creeps. I don’t give a damn that they turned me down. What I can’t forgive is the way they tricked me into giving them all my baking secrets.”
    “Baking secrets are a dime a dozen,” Jenny said. “The real secret is the love the baker puts into their work. And that’s what you do. You put all your love into it.”
    Matthew turned to me. “Have you found a tenant for your apartment yet?” It was an obvious attempt at changing the subject. To my relief, it worked. When I said that, no, in fact, I had gotten only a handful of inquiries, Marnie suggested she create tear-off ads and put them up on all the local stores’ bulletin boards.
    I frowned. “I hadn’t thought of it, but it sounds like a good idea. You wouldn’t mind?”
    “Where were you advertising?” she asked.
    “Craigslist.”
    “That’s good, but a lot of older folks around here aren’t computer savvy. However they all read bulletin boards. I’ll put one up at Mercantile’s and another at the church.” She