The Scarlet Key

By G.J. Gardner

Scarlet Ravelle, a red-haired young computer whiz, I.T. manager and stitchery enthusiast, was planning to spend a quiet weekend at home, working on her latest counted cross-stitch project. After escaping from work on a Friday afternoon, she sought asylum at her favorite café for a late lunch. While hiding behind a menu she was approached by a mysterious stranger, Boris Freyczech, who leveraged her assistance in cracking a diabolical computer espionage case with international repercussions. What are the odds that Boris’s plea will transform a quiet weekend filled with floss to a wildfire race against evil forces almost beyond extinguishing? With Scarlet, it’s a sure thing!

• Language: English
• Publisher: G.J. Gardner
• Release date: Nov 25, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370941629

Book preview

The Scarlet Key

G.J. Gardner

Published by G.J. Gardner at Smashwords

Copyright 2016 G.J Gardner

Chapter One

Scarlet Ravelle struggled to keep her eyes open. It was much too late to be awake but she wanted to get this counted cross-stitch project finished. She had to put it in the mail tomorrow, Friday, if it was going to get to her sister Maggie in time for her birthday.

She picked up the chart of the pillow top design and studied it again. The small symbols in the grid, indicating color, blurred together while a stubborn strand of hair kept falling down into her eyes. With an effort she got up out of the chair and plodded to the bathroom, feeling like she had fifty pound weights on her feet.

Scarlet rummaged through the bathroom drawers and found several clips. Grimacing at her tired face and tousled red hair in the mirror, she liberally used the clips to restrain any lock of hair likely to straggle into her eyes. Then she splashed cold water on her face to wake herself up a little and try to get the sandpaper feeling out of her eyes. Leaving the bathroom she ran into the door jamb, giving herself a sore shoulder. I’m getting too old to do these all night stitching sessions she told herself as she found her way back to the chair.

She picked up the pattern again and studied it, deciding on the next color to be stitched in. She reached for the floss she wanted but it wasn’t there.

Where’s my mocha brown medium floss she thought as she looked through the floss on the table next to her. Where’s #3032 mocha brown medium? She searched the floss on the table several times, then checked the floor and found it lying next to her chair. Wearily she separated the strands and threaded her needle.

Scarlet had started out with the resolution to get Maggie’s present done early, but when she had to abandon her original project and start over on a different project she doomed herself to a marathon of late night stitching.

Work is so much less satisfying than needlework, she said to herself with a sigh. No clear plan to follow, often no definite end point and certainly nothing tangible to show when you’re done. She examined the floral bouquet in the center of the piece that would be a pillow top, and then focused on the decorative border she was trying to finish tonight. To her expert eye her stitches were slightly uneven due to her tiredness, but since they were in a multicolored border they wouldn’t be noticeable to the casual observer. Until counted cross-stitching projects start coming with paychecks, I’m stuck with my job, she lamented.

Maggie was usually a good judge of Scarlet’s stress level, even over the phone, and when she hadn’t been able to talk Scarlet out of finishing this piece in time for her birthday, Maggie had insisted on completing the pillow herself, arguing that just the pillow top would be easier to mail than a whole pillow. Now, at this late hour, Scarlet was relieved that she could quit when just the needlework was done. She arched her back, flexed her fingers and massaged her neck, trying to soothe the aches and pains that came from stitching too long.

She draped the piece over the back of a chair and stood back to study it and to give her eyes a rest from the close work. The design had a pleasing balance of colors and shapes, she hoped Maggie would like it. Maggie had originally asked her to do an abstract pattern from a trendy stitchery magazine, a jagged design in oranges and reds that looked like flames of fire. Scarlet had started it but the pattern kept triggering her fear of fire. Maggie had been too young to remember when the house across the street burned to the ground, killing everyone inside, but Scarlet’s memories of the flames consuming the house in spite of the efforts of the fire department were still vivid. She shuddered and picked up her cross-stitching again, forcing her mind to concentrate on stitching, pushing the burning memories out of her conscious thought. As she stitched she grew calm and closed her mind to everything but her needle, the colors of the floss and the pattern.

In the early hours of the morning she finished. Awkwardly wrapping the piece in gift paper with clumsy tired fingers, she sealed it into a box for mailing. After writing Maggie’s name and address on the box she went to bed to get a few hours sleep. "I’ll mail Maggie’s