Lace and Lies Read online

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  A Note from Nancy

  Bobbles and Broomsticks

  Also by Nancy Warren

  About the Author

  Introduction

  Cardinal Woolsey’s Yarn Shop has been chosen to appear on TV which is great publicity – until a murder stops the cameras…

  Celebrity knitting designer Teddy Lamont is coming to Cardinal Woolsey’s knitting and yarn shop in Oxford to run a special class that will be televised.

  Lucy Swift can’t wait to host the popular, flamboyant designer and boost her business, but from the first day things go wrong. When a student is found dead, the publicity Lucy was hoping for turns out to be the wrong kind.

  Lucy and her band of undead amateur sleuths must figure out who the killer is before her business winds up dead.

  “Love this series…This plot is full of so many suspects that challenged me to really think about whodunnit although I always become so eager and engrossed that I forget to even try to figure it out, I just hunker down and let Lucy take me for a roller-coaster ride instead. Much more fun that way!” Annette, reviewing Lace and Lies

  The best way to keep up with new releases and special offers is to join Nancy’s newsletter at nancywarren.net.

  Praise for the Vampire Knitting Club series

  "THE VAMPIRE KNITTING CLUB is a delightful paranormal cozy mystery perfectly set in a knitting shop in Oxford, England. With intrepid, late blooming, amateur sleuth, Lucy Swift, and a cast of truly unforgettable characters, this mystery delivers all the goods. It's clever and funny, with plot twists galore and one very savvy cat! I highly recommend this sparkling addition to the cozy mystery genre."

  Jenn McKinlay, NYT Bestselling Author

  This was such a well written, fun story that I couldn’t put down.

  Diana

  Fun and fantastic read

  Deborah

  Chapter 1

  “Teddy Lamont is coming to Cardinal Woolsey’s.” I was so excited I squeaked. Nineteen vampires stopped knitting, crocheting or gossiping to stare at me in various attitudes of awe. I’d saved the news until the vampires were meeting in the back room of my knitting shop so my grandmother would be among the first to hear it. I had wanted to watch her lined face beam with pleasure. And now I did.

  Gran had started Cardinal Woolsey’s knitting and yarn shop and, even though she was now undead, I still liked to include her in all business decisions. She’d agreed with my idea to offer our shop for a special promotion by Larch Wools. Larch was making a TV series featuring celebrity sweater designer and knitting expert, Teddy Lamont, who would teach one of his sweater patterns to a class inside a knitting shop.

  Every knitting shop in the UK that carried Larch Wools had been invited to apply for the coveted spot. According to the letter I’d received, Cardinal Woolsey’s was chosen for several reasons. We sold a lot of Larch Wools, Oxford was geographically in the middle of the UK, and the shop itself was photogenic and had room for a TV crew.

  Several voices called out at once:

  “When is it?”

  “Can we all meet Teddy?”

  “When will it be on the telly?”

  I could only answer the first of these questions. “Filming takes place in a couple of weeks.”

  “So soon?” Sylvia spoke up. She’d been a silent film star in the 1920s, and based on starring in movies nearly a century ago, thought she knew everything about the entertainment industry. She looked me up and down critically. “You’ll want to lose a few pounds, Lucy. The camera is unforgiving. And what will you wear? Hand-knitted items, of course, but of the highest possible quality.”

  All the vampires listened intently. Alfred, who’d never been a movie star but was as bossy as Sylvia, chimed in. “Yes. There’s no time to waste. If we all get started now, we can have an entire television wardrobe for Lucy by the time shooting starts.”

  “I don’t need a new wardrobe,” I protested. My closets and drawers were already overflowing with hand-knitted garments from the vampires, who soothed their boredom by knitting me the most exquisite creations. The weight loss, however, was probably a good idea. Working in a knitting shop wasn’t conducive to an active lifestyle. At least, that’s what I told myself.

  Sylvia eyed my long blond hair, which I’d stuck in a ponytail today since I was too lazy to style it. “You’ll want to wear your hair back for the filming so the camera can see your face.” She shook her head in fond reminiscence. “What a time I had of it playing Lady Godiva. Sir John Barrymore was beside himself trying to keep my face visible to the camera while preserving my modesty.”

  Normally, I loved Sylvia’s trips down her cinematic memory lane, but today I was more interested in the upcoming televised knitting show than her long-ago triumphs.

  “Who will be in your class, dear?” Gran asked, perhaps also feeling we should get back on track.

  “The yarn company is choosing the students. They’re running a national contest. Six lucky winners get to learn from Teddy Lamont. If they don’t live within driving distance, they’ll be put up at a hotel for the few days we’re filming.”

  “My goodness. They’re going all out.”

  I was both excited and nervous. In knitting terms, this was like having a movie star come to your house for dinner.

  “How typical,” Hester moaned. Hester was a hormone-challenged teenager whose awkward stage would last for eternity. I tried to feel sympathy for her, remembering the misery of my own teenage years, but she made it difficult. “Maybe I would have liked to be in the class, but oh, no. Everything gets decided by ‘the man.’” She sighed theatrically and tossed the black shawl sweater she was knitting into her bag. Her entire color palette was black.

  Sylvia laughed, and it was a bitter sound. “Darling girl, if it were possible for us to be filmed, I’d have played the dowager countess, Lady Grantham. I’m perfect for the part. Maggie, Judy, Helen, I’d give those Dames a run for their money. But we don’t appear on film any more than we show up in mirrors or photographs. You can no more be a television or film star than you can sunbathe on the Riviera.”

  Hester’s scowl deepened, and she kicked at her bag.

  I felt so guilty. I’d never thought that my exciting news would be such a downer for the vampires who lived beneath my Oxford shop. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “I didn’t think. I can cancel it.”

  “Don’t even think of such a thing,” Gran cried. “This is wonderful publicity for Cardinal Woolsey’s and for you.”

  “Maybe you can even learn to knit in the next two weeks,” Hester said. When she was disappointed, she got mean.

  I was trying to become a passable knitter even as I was trying to become a better witch. But neither of those occupations were exactly easy. At least, not for me.

  However, I hadn’t completely wasted the business diploma I’d earned back home in Boston. I might be a fledgling witch and an inexperienced knitter, but I wasn’t half bad at running a knitting shop.

  The proof was that Larch Wools had chosen Cardinal Woolsey’s to be featured on television.

  I wondered who the six chosen knitters would be and whether Ted
dy Lamont would be as much fun in person as he appeared to be in his monthly magazine. I hoped so. Even his knitting patterns had personality. I was going to spend every spare minute of the next two weeks practicing my craft.

  Both of them.

  I’d never had anything to do with television before, other than sitting in front of it and watching more episodes of Grey’s Anatomy than were good for me. Meredith, Cristina and McDreamy got me through my breakup with Todd, and I’d forever be grateful. However, I’d never been involved with the making of a TV show, and I was a little starstruck at the very idea of a celebrity knitter coming to my shop and offering knitting lessons that would be televised. Needless to say, I was frantically trying to improve my basic knitting ability before all of the UK and wherever else this show would be broadcast noticed that the woman who owned the knitting shop couldn’t knit. How embarrassing.

  The director and producer of the show was Molly Larson. She was thirty or so, with long, sleek black hair and the kind of big smile that makes you want to join in, even when you don’t get the joke. She swept into Cardinal Woolsey’s with the kind of brisk efficiency that seemed to make even the balls of wool more energetic. She shook my hand, told me it was great to meet me and then wasted no time walking around my shop with a critical eye. I explained that I held my knitting classes in the back room and showed her, hoping quite desperately that none of the vampires were feeling sleepless in the middle of the day and likely to come up through the trapdoor. I’d warned them a hundred times not to do that, but they didn’t always follow my rules.

  “No, no,” she said the second we walked into the back room. “We need the ambience of the front of the shop. It’s not interesting enough back here.” We both walked back out, and she soon had a plan to move all the displays in the center of the shop into the back room. “We only want one display of all Teddy’s books, some of his magazines and a good stock of his knitting kits.” She glanced around again, as though measuring for a rug. “We have six contestants. Do you have a nice antique table somewhere? I like the idea of the knitters sitting around one table, with Teddy standing at the head of it, demonstrating. Naturally, behind him we’ll have a big display of Larch wools. What do you think?”

  She seemed to require an answer, though I didn’t really know why. Probably she just wanted my agreement. Well, I’d wanted this, hadn’t I? So I was going to have to move some things around. It wouldn’t kill me. “Why don’t you come upstairs? That’s where I live. There is a dining room table there. I think it might do.”

  She followed me upstairs. Nyx, my black cat familiar, was busily snoozing on the couch in the living room. She opened her golden eyes lazily and then, realizing I had company, raised her head to assess our new visitor.

  Molly said, “Oh, a cat. How cute. So cute. Do you ever let it go into your shop?”

  I couldn’t have kept Nyx out if I’d tried. My cat tended to go wherever she felt like, and only a fool would try to stop her. Nyx yawned so wide, I worried she’d swallow her own head.

  “Yes. She spends a lot of time in the front window. I’ve put a big basket of wool there, and she likes to curl up and sleep in the sunshine.”

  She made a note. “I love it. Love it! Getting your kitten snoozing in the front window will be one of our establishing shots. It immediately invites you in, suggests a cozy shop where a person could learn how to knit a tea cozy or a pair of warm winter gloves.”

  I could tell from the way she was talking this woman had never knit a stitch in her life. She thought a tea cozy was easy? Gloves? I’d like to see her try.

  I led her to the dining table, which had been Gran’s and probably her mother’s before that. Molly turned up her nose at my table, shaking her head at the same time. “No. It’s too fancy. I want rustic. I want oak or pine. Something scarred and solid. Scarred and solid. I want to give the idea of tradition. Of farm women sitting around knitting sweaters for their seven children or the wives of sailors at home around the table knitting to while away the time while their men were at sea.”

  I was somewhat puzzled. “But Teddy Lamont is all about fashion-forward knitting design. He’s taken what was essentially a craft and turned it into art.”

  “You’re right. You’re right.” I found that she tended to repeat the same word or phrase a lot. “He does. He does. But you see, what we’re trying to do with this show is bring the two together. That’s why we chose your shop. It’s cozy and quaint, and it has a cat in the window. Then we bring Teddy and mix the old with the new. It’s going to be great. Great.”

  I loved her enthusiasm, and if that meant I had to go find a beaten-up table from somewhere, I supposed I could do it. Rafe or Theodore would know where I could find one. But Molly was already on the phone. “Joseph. Good. Good. Glad I caught you. Come down to Cardinal Woolsey’s shop right now. You’ve got to measure up and find me a table and the right chairs. Morgan will have to do something about the lighting.”

  Molly nodded again briskly, then hung up and turned to me. “I’m finished up here. If you can bring the cat down and put it in the basket, I can get the visual.”

  I glanced at Nyx, who stared right back at me. Nyx wasn’t one to take orders from TV producers or to be hauled around like a prop. When she’d held my gaze long enough to make sure I understood this fact, she stood up on all fours, executed a perfect yoga stretch and then jumped nimbly down onto the floor. Tail in the air, she trotted down the stairs. When I opened the door into the shop, she wandered straight to the window, dipped her hind legs slightly and made a graceful leap up onto my window display. She climbed into the basket and curled up, posing with just her chin resting on the edge of the basket, looking back at us.

  Molly was delighted. “She’s gorgeous. Gorgeous! And so smart. You’d think she’d heard every word we said.” Molly laughed heartily, and Nyx and I exchanged another glance. Then, clearly feeling she’d done enough to help me for one day, Nyx closed her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

  “Good. Good. Joseph will take care of everything, don’t worry. He’ll source a rustic antique table and seven chairs. I want them all different. Different, right?”

  “Right. Seven. Six contestants and a chair for Teddy.”

  She laughed. “Wait till you meet Teddy. He never sits. Absolutely never sits. No, the seventh chair is for you. You’ll take the class, but really you’re there to help any of the contestants who get tangled or confused.”

  “Tangled or confused.” Now I was doing the repeating. What this woman didn’t know was that I was the one most likely to get tangled and confused. “I thought I’d stay in the background, in case…” I petered out. I had no idea what I’d imagined I’d be doing, but it wasn’t knitting.

  In fact, if I was better at the other main activity in my life, being a witch, I might have been able to put a spell on this woman so she’d realize what a terrible idea it would be to put me on camera, but I’d had a couple of spectacular mishaps in the magic department recently, so I didn’t like to mess with actual humans anymore, not if I could help it.

  I soon discovered there was a lot more to making a simple television show than I could’ve imagined. Apart from the director and producer, there was a researcher, a camera operator, a sound recordist. I’d always wondered what a gaffer was when I’d seen the word on movie credits. It turned out the gaffer was the lighting tech. There was also a harried young woman who was the producer’s assistant. She emailed me a lot with messages that began, “Molly thinks” or “Molly was wondering…” Still, it was exciting. After we closed on Friday, the TV crew were coming in and rearranging my shop and bringing in the table and chairs that they’d sourced.

  Saturday morning very early, we’d get started and film all day. They were hoping to wrap it all up in three days, and I’d be open again on Wednesday.

  I hesitated a bit about closing the shop, but my customers were so excited at the idea of Cardinal Woolsey’s being on TV that business actually went up. I was easily going to ma
ke more money in the days leading up to the filming than I was going to lose being closed. Besides, since Teddy was launching a new book, Lace My Way, as a special treat for my customers and anyone who cared to drive to the neighborhood, he was going to do a book signing. We’d set this up in conjunction with Frogg’s Books across the street.

  Molly’s assistant, Rebecca, who everyone referred to as Becks, sent me brief bios and photos of the six knitters who’d been chosen to take part in the show.

  I scanned the list and photos, wondering if any of them were my customers. I recognized only one, Helen. They’d only given first names, but I knew her as Helen Radcliffe. She was in her mid-forties with short, iron-gray hair. She never wore makeup and dressed rather drably. She taught science at a local girls’ school. She came across as quiet and intense and rather brilliant. She was a beautiful knitter, but she seemed terrified of color. My cousin, Violet, and I had both tried to expand her palette beyond shades often associated with small woodland animals, like rats, mice or muskrats, but it was hopeless.

  I wondered what Teddy Lamont could do to encourage her to liven up her wardrobe, and I was excited that she’d been chosen. She needed to branch out from colors that could only be found in a mud puddle, and I thought he was exactly the man to give her the confidence to try.

  I didn’t know any of the other participants. Like knitting shops, knitters had applied to be on the show. The producers had obviously chosen people who were very different. If they were trying to say knitting wasn’t just for little old ladies, I thought they’d succeeded.