"But if his prints weren't on the scissors that means…," I started.

"It doesn't mean anything. Nell, it's not that simple. He isn't-"

I stopped him midsentence. "I get it. He's not out of the running."

"No one is yet," he said.

"Not even Nell?" Amanda interrupted.

"Why would you think I killed anyone?" I stammered.

Amanda looked embarrassed. "I just thought if he suspected Ryan, he must suspect you. I'm sorry. I was completely off base."

"No, you weren't," came Jesse's flat reply. "Obviously she was on the short list of suspects right at the beginning. She knew the victim, had something of a relationship with him, and had access to the shop."

"But I didn't do it," I jumped in.

Jesse nodded. "She has a pretty good alibi."

"Thanks to Eleanor." I smiled wryly. I decided to ask about one of my suspects. "Why did you jump all over Natalie today?"

He stared at the table for a moment, then asked, "Want another beer?"

Without answering my question, Jesse was up and headed toward the bar. As he was ordering, Ryan walked in.

"Well, I guess we had the same idea," he said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," Amanda said. "Why don't you join us?"

"Thanks," I muttered and shot her a look, but she was playing innocent. Ryan took Jesse's chair and looked from me to Amanda. "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," I said sharply. "I told you I wanted some time alone with Amanda."

"You weren't alone. You were drinking with that cop."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "We were talking about the grisly murder." I wasn't interested in explaining any further, so I went up to help Jesse with the drinks.

Jesse took two beers and left me with two, but I lingered just for a moment. "I'm Nell," I said to the bartender. "Were you working here Friday afternoon?"

"I own the place," he said warmly. "I'm here every night."

"There's a guy sitting at my table…"

"You mean the guy who isn't Jesse."

"Yeah. Him. Was he here Friday afternoon?"

The bartender leaned toward me. "Why don't you ask him?"

I could feel myself turning red. "Humor me. It doesn't look like it gets too crowded in the middle of the day, so if he was here, you might remember him."

"I might," he said, looking straight at Ryan. "Yeah, he was here. But if you're going to ask me how long he stayed and what he drank and who he spoke to, I can't tell you." He hesitated for a moment. "But I remember he seemed kind of upset. I do remember he was on his cell, 'cause that irritates me. He kept telling someone he'd made a big mistake."

"Did he say what mistake?"

"Not that I heard."

"Thanks," I sighed. "Sorry to bother you."

The bartender smiled and shrugged and I turned back toward the table. I caught Jesse's eye as I headed back.

"Everything okay there?" he asked.

"Perfect. I just had a question about the history of the bar," I said as innocently as possible.

Ryan had taken Jesse's seat and Jesse was sitting on my side of the booth. Amanda had left plenty of room on her side for me to sit, but that would have put me next to Ryan. So I motioned for Jesse to get up and let me in on his side. Ryan took a long gulp and set his drink loudly on the table.

"So are the three of you having fun?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, actually," I replied, trying to imitate Jesse's flat, indifferent tone, but without much success.

"Jesse has been filling us in on his hunt for the killer," Amanda told him excitedly. "Apparently, everyone in town is a suspect."

"Everyone sure seemed to hate that guy," Ryan said.

"He was hated?" Amanda seemed fascinated by this new piece of information.

Okay, I got it. No one liked him. No one but me. And apparently I was being played. Still, there's a huge difference between wanting to kill someone and actually killing him. And killing him in my grandmother's quilt shop-there was something about the location that seemed especially strange.

"Okay, so he went around making enemies everywhere he went." Amanda's face lit up as she embellished what she knew, as if she were talking through the plot of a new movie, rather than the death of a real person. "So someone goes after him and knifes him?"

"It was scissors," Jesse corrected.

"He was scissored, if that's a word," Ryan added.

"Okay, so someone came into the shop and scissored him?" Amanda was playful now and Ryan seemed to be jumping in.

"It was a real murder." I admonished them both. "Someone is dead. It would be great if you could stop using that fact to entertain yourselves."

Amanda leaned back, looking chastised. Ryan just looked annoyed. But something in what Amanda had said stuck with me. Someone had come into the shop and scissored him. I leaned toward Jesse. "But why that night? Why in the quilt shop?"

"What do you mean?" Jesse asked.

"Why pick that particular night?"

"Because he was in the shop alone?" Jesse suggested.

I turned to face him. "Okay. But let's say someone has had a problem with Marc for weeks, or months or years, or however long they've been building up to this moment. They must have gone to my grandmother's shop to confront him, and things got out of hand and Marc ended up with scissors in his chest."

"So what?" interrupted Ryan. "Things got out of hand. That happens."

"But why that night?" I asked, more emphatically.

"You think something happened that day to cause a confrontation? " Jesse leaned toward me. "That makes sense."

"Are we back to my having killed him?" Ryan demanded. "Is that where you're going with this, Nell?"

I ignored him. "I'm trying to think of anything that was different about Marc that day, and there wasn't anything. He was in a good mood when I left him."

"You put him in a good mood," Ryan snapped.

Jesse turned his body fully toward mine, so we were now facing each other on our side of the booth. Amanda and Ryan were shut out, but I didn't care, and it seemed, Jesse didn't either.

"He didn't mention any plans he had, any meetings, jobs… anything that was coming up that day or that week?" Jesse asked me.

"No," I replied. "Except he said something about a doctor's appointment. I don't know what kind of appointment. But it was supposed to be on Thursday."

"Hold that thought." Jesse picked up his cell phone and hit one button. "It's Jesse," he said into the phone. "Call the local doctors and Sacred Heart Hospital. Find out if Marc Reed had a doctor's appointment with any of them for last Thursday. Call me back." He hung up the phone and leaned back. "Let's see if that gets us anywhere."

But when his phone rang five minutes later, it wasn't with news about Marc. Someday Quilts had been broken into, and the officer on the scene was sure that the person was still inside.