The Double Cross by Clare O'Donohue Page B

in the room and ran down the stairs. The students were gone, and the hallway was dark. The only light came from under the kitchen door. I knew the phone was in the entryway, but instead I walked toward the kitchen. Maybe I had no good reason to eavesdrop, but that had never stopped me before, so I stood at the door and listened.
    “This isn’t working,” I heard Rita say.
    “I’m taking care of it,” was George’s reply. “I’ll get Bernie to understand.”
    “And the others? That Eleanor woman thinks I’ve lost my mind, opening the quilt shop.”
    “So what? We have to stay focused, Rita. We’re so close to getting everything we want.”
    Behind me I heard a thud. I knew George heard it too, because he moved toward the kitchen door. I ducked into the dark dining room, hoping to hide there, but it didn’t work. George walked into the room and turned on the light. I stood there, feeling suddenly vulnerable.
    “I heard a noise,” I said, hoping to distract him from the fact that he found me standing in the dark.
    He looked around the room. “I heard it too. There are a lot of strange noises in this house. I swore I heard footsteps a week before you came. Scared Rita so much I changed the locks.”
    I took the opportunity to move away from the wall where I had been hiding. When I did, I noticed something odd about the armoire. It was empty.
    “You moved the quilts,” I said.
    George walked to the cabinet and examined it so carefully it seemed as though he was looking for a needle rather than three large quilts.
    “Rita must have done something with them,” he finally said.
    He walked me back toward the stairs in a way that suggested he didn’t like me lingering on the first floor. I looked toward the phone, but there didn’t seem any chance I could use it without George listening in, so I headed back toward my room.
    When I got there, Eleanor and the others were waiting. I told them what I’d overheard, and my grandmother took it as confirmation that the Olnhausens were not to be trusted.
    “Bernie and I can go into town in the morning and make some calls,” I suggested, “if Susanne doesn’t need me in class.”
    “I’ll be fine,” Susanne said, more relaxed than she had been before. “I think most of them are in there for free. Not exactly what I’d imagined for my first quilt retreat, but I suppose it takes the pressure off.”
    “But it does beg the question,” Eleanor said. “If there weren’t people interested in taking your class, why did they go through with it? They could have canceled. Instead they’re paying you to teach a weeklong class to a group of people who don’t want to be there. Why drag you up here for no good reason?”
    “Maybe they have a good reason,” I said.
    “That’s what we have to find out,” Eleanor said, with a determination in her voice that made me remember my promise to Oliver that we would stay out of trouble. Maybe the only way to do that was to find out who George and Rita really were.

CHAPTER 9
    The next morning I waited for Bernie by the car. I watched as Helen, Frank, Susanne, and the twins each made their way into the classroom. Eleanor offered a few reminders about what information I should get, before joining Rita in the shop. Barney sniffed at the trees, and I looked at my watch. Fifteen minutes late.
    Finally I saw Bernie coming from a wooded area quite a ways from the house. Behind her, Pete scrambled up to the walkway and headed into class. As she reached the car, Bernie caught my eye.
    “Don’t look at me like that.” Bernie jumped into the passenger seat.
    I shouted to Barney, who paid no attention until I grabbed him by the collar.
    “Backseat.” I pointed to the seat, and he jumped in the back; then I climbed into the driver’s seat and tried hard not to smile.
    “I suppose we could go back to the bakery you saw in town yesterday,” I said.
    “Honestly, Nell, you get so many ideas into your head.”
    “About what? Baked