A Killing Notion: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery (16 page)

“Have fun at the game,” I said as they each got into their cars.

“I will,” Leslie called through her open window.

“Me, too. Thank you, Harlow.” Danica put her hand out and waved. They sped off in different directions, and I sent a silent wish after them that they’d both have a great time at the Bliss homecoming game.

Then I went inside to call Will and pitch my plan to go pay another visit to Otis Levon.

“You have no idea what she was going to tell you?” Will asked me from the driver’s side of his truck. A car zoomed past us in the opposite direction, its brights momentarily blinding us.

“None,” I said after the car had passed and the stars I had been seeing dissipated. After the others had left, I’d tried to call Brandi back at the Granbury store, but it had gone straight to voice mail. “She said something I’d said was bothering her, and then she said Otis knew something that could help. She said it had to do with the burglary at the Montgomerys’.”

“And he told this girl Brandi?”

“Or she figured it out? I have no idea.” I threw my hands in the air, frustrated that I couldn’t seem to get anything concrete to help Shane. “She just changed her mind and hung up.”

“Simmer down, darlin’,” he said, giving my leg a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll just go talk to him and see what we can find out.”

I ran my fingers through my hair. “But we’re out of time. The dance is tomorrow—”

“Cassidy, you’ve given Hoss plenty to think on. He’s not going to arrest Shane anytime soon. There are too many other possibilities. This is no slam dunk.”

“I was just hoping to figure this all out before the dance so none of it would hang over him and Gracie.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. There’s only so much you can do.”

I tried to take that to heart as we entered Bubba’s. The place was deserted. Homecoming in a small town was a huge event—the parade, the presentation of the court, the crowning of the king and queen, and the big game. The entire town would turn out for the event . . . which meant no one was at Bubba’s getting their car worked on.

The door had dinged when we entered. We waited for a few minutes, but the place was graveyard silent. No one came to help us. “Is anyone here?” I whispered.

Will looked around, puzzled. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Hello?” I called.

Nothing.

An eerie feeling came over me. Something wasn’t right. It was still business hours, but the doors to the garage bay were closed. I peeked through the window to the garage, but it was dark. The lobby door was unlocked, yet no one was here.

There was no upstairs in this shop, but behind the counter there was a small room. I headed right to it, turned on the light, and looked around. It was a smaller version of the Granbury location. A rack of clothes was pushed against the wall in the corner, just like in the
Granbury shop, and a sleeper sofa was up against the opposite wall. A small refrigerator stood next to the sofa. A microwave was on a portable stand.

Will had come up behind me, but now I scooted around him and backtracked to the lobby. I opened the door to the garage bay and stepped inside. The light sensor activated and the space was illuminated.

I walked deeper in, moving past some of the equipment and tools. A car was parked in the center bay. I skirted around it . . . and stopped dead in my tracks.

A man was sprawled awkwardly on the ground, legs spread, one of them cocked at an unnatural angle. If I drew a line of chalk around him, he’d look just like the stereotypical dead body drawing on TV.

Otis? I slapped my hand over my mouth. “No,” I whispered. He couldn’t be dead.

Behind me, Will was already calling nine-one-one.

We tiptoed closer to get a better look. I hoped against hope that I was wrong and that it wasn’t Otis. And that he wasn’t as dead as he looked.

Will and I leaned down. I used the flashlight app on my smartphone to illuminate his face. I didn’t know if he was dead, but it was definitely Otis Levon.

The sheriff’s station wasn’t where I wanted to be, yet here I was. Will had called Hoss after he’d phoned emergency, and it had taken less than ten minutes for the EMTs, Hoss, Gavin, Madelyn, and a whole slew of other people to arrive. Will and I were taken outside while the sheriff’s team processed the garage bay.

“Take ’em to the Church,” Hoss told Gavin, pointing to Will and me. The Church was Hoss’s nickname for the sheriff’s station. The current department had once been owned by the old Methodist church. When the church moved to their new building, the town bought the old place and moved the city offices.

Gavin started to protest, but Hoss was already sauntering back to the garage bay, lost in his thoughts. Gavin ripped his cowboy hat off his head, slapping it against his thigh, muttering under his breath. “Dammit . . . babysitter . . . stepdaddy . . .”

“We know where the Church is,” I said. “We can get there ourselves and you can stay here.” The last thing I
wanted was to be babysat . . . or questioned . . . by Gavin McClaine.

“Nice try, Harlow, but, uh, no.” He held his arm out, his hat still clutched in his hand, and ushered us toward Will’s truck. At least he was going to let us drive ourselves, which meant neither Hoss nor Gavin thought we were actual suspects.

Small consolation.

Now we sat at a table in a nondescript room. The gray walls made it feel smaller than it was, but natural light streamed in through the square window. Gavin sat across from us.

“Okay, Harlow, let’s hear it.”

“Where do you want me to start?”

He heaved a frustrated sigh. “The beginning.”

If I’d had a cowboy hat of my own, I’d have snatched it from my head and whacked it against my thigh. I wanted to know what had happened to Otis, too, but berating me wasn’t going to get Gavin any closer to any answers.

“Any day now, Harlow. I have a crime I’m investigatin’.”

I simmered down and told him about the call from Brandi in Granbury and how that had led me to Bubba’s to talk to Otis Levon. Before I finished my last sentence, he interrupted me with a curt, “And you met her how?”

I swallowed. Gavin wouldn’t take kindly to me poking my nose in where it didn’t belong, but there was nothing I could do about it. My nose was in one hundred and ten percent. “I happened to be in Granbury the other day and stopped in for an oil change.”

“Uh-huh. And why did you happen to be in the area? Just a coincidence, I’m sure, right?”

Will and Gavin both watched me. I felt my face go slack as I tried to come up with a lie. But I couldn’t do it. Meemaw had adhered to the rule that given a sticky situation over something you’d done, one should ask for forgiveness, not permission.

Currently, I felt like a fly stuck to a very tacky spiderweb, and forgiveness was my only way out.

“I went to see Barbara Ann Blake, Gavin.” I hurried on before he could get the words out that I could see were on the tip of his tongue. “I know I shouldn’t have, and before you say anything, I know I’m butting in where I shouldn’t have been, but Miss Reba asked me for help. She’s worried about Shane. And, well, I just couldn’t say no, Gavin, now could I? So I’m sorry, but I’d do it again. I had to do whatever I could to help prove Shane is innocent.”

“And did you?”

I stared. “Did I what?”

“Did you prove Shane is innocent?”

“Well, not exactly, but I’ve got reasonable doubt. And,” I added, “maybe he has an alibi for whenever Otis was assaulted.”

Gavin steepled his fingers together in front of his chin. “He does, as it turns out. Have an alibi, I mean.”

Will leaned forward, hands folded on the table in front of him. “What is it?”

“He was workin’ on the float for the homecoming parade. He’s been there since school ended at three thirty.”

The parade! I’d forgotten about the Bliss High School homecoming parade. It would start on Magnolia Street, winding through the neighborhood behind the school, finally ending at the football field. The marching band
would lead the way, followed by floats made by the different clubs on campus, the sports teams, the scouts, and even the peewee football league. The streets would be lined with families, candy would be tossed to them from the people on the floats, and at the end of it all, after the football game, there’d be a big bonfire at the high school to celebrate.

Homecoming was a big deal in Texas.

“So Shane’s in the clear?”

“For Otis, yes, but so far we don’t have evidence that whoever attempted to kill Otis also killed Chris Montgomery . . . or Eddy Blake.” With his steepled his fingers, he looked just like his daddy, Hoss. Like father, like son. “Back to this girl, Brandi,” he said.

I sat back in my chair, crossing my legs. I couldn’t contain my nervous energy and my red Frye-booted foot moved back and forth double time. “She said she had something to tell me. She told me that Otis knew something about the burglary at the Montgomery’s, but then she changed her mind and hung up.”

“And that’s when you decided, instead of callin’ the authorities, to take matters into your own hands.”

“That’s when I . . .” I glanced at Will. “When
we
decided we might could use an oil change.”

Gavin smirked. “Gimme a break, Harlow. You went to—what did you say a minute ago?—to poke your nose in where it didn’t belong.”

I folded my arms over my chest and met his chastising gaze. “Maybe so, Gavin, but because we did, Otis might have a chance to survive, and you also know that there’s a crazy person running around Bliss right this very minute.”

His upper lip curled up, but he swallowed whatever
he was about to say, blew out a breath, and said, “I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you.”

“And you have no idea what this Brandi was talkin’ about?”

“None. We could call her—”

“Uh-uh,” Gavin said, wagging his finger at me. “
I
can call her . . . and I did.”

I leaned forward. “You did? And?”

“And nothin’. Ain’t reached her yet. And until I do, you stay away from her. Stay away from Granbury. In fact,” he said, “why don’t you stay right here in Bliss, Harlow, and keep yourself out of trouble?”

“I’ll see to that, Gavin,” Will said. A look passed between them that spoke to some understanding they had. I smarted, but after a second of thought, I just smiled and said, “Yes, sir, Deputy, sir.”

I didn’t need to be watched by anyone, but if anyone was going to watch me, I’d definitely choose Will Flores.

Despite Will’s promise to Gavin, he was slipping at the job of watching me. We sat on one of the top rows of the Bliss High School bleachers cheering on the Bliss Eagles. The majority of his attention was firmly on the football game, the halftime show with the marching band, and the presentation of the homecoming court. Carrie, the girl I’d first seen with Leslie in my shop, then again at the park, had been named the sophomore class homecoming princess. Her jaw dropped when her name was announced, tears flooding her eyes as she was crowned and accepted the sash and a bouquet of flowers.

She wasn’t the cheerleader type, or even an athlete, so hadn’t been a shoo-in for the honor. I might have been off base, but to see her chosen by the student body as their homecoming princess felt like encouragement for the underdog.

Everyone around us wore red and black and white, the school colors, including Will and me. My shirt was missing the Eagle emblem and was custom made, but it
was
red and was as close as I had to school spirit wear. Will, on the other hand, had a collared black shirt with the red school logo on the left chest. He had a collection of men’s Eagles shirts, just like every other father in Bliss. He was nothing if not a Texas dad. And I loved him more for that.

The people around us waved pompoms attached to foot-long sticks. From our position high in the bleachers, we had a good view of all the activity. Gracie sat with Holly and Libby, all three of them sporting their mums. They laughed and cheered, and for the first time in days, Gracie looked happy.

I scanned the crowd looking for people I knew or recognized. The school administration, school board, and a few teachers sat in the center section of the bleachers just under the press box. It was prime real estate for the football games.

Leslie, Carrie, and Danica walked toward the concession stand. The three of them wore their mums, just as proud as every other girl here. The ribbons streamed down their legs, whipping around as they walked. They stopped to talk to their friends, and once again I was grateful I’d been able to be part of making their night special by helping them fit in with their mums.

Kids of all ages milled around. Cheerleaders, elementary school football players already dreaming of having their chance on the field, and every other town member seemed to be here. If someone wanted to burglarize a house in Bliss, doing it on a Friday night during the homecoming game was a sure bet.

The burglary at the Montgomery house came back to me. That had happened in the middle of the night, and
whoever had done it hadn’t chosen a time when the house would be empty. Had they
wanted
someone to be home?

Whoever had broken in had stood over Miss Reba in her bed. That was personal. Barbara Ann Blake. Once again, my finger pointed at her. If she’d discovered the truth about her husband, would she want to exact revenge against the woman who’d stolen the rest of her married life?

I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

A roar went up in the stadium. A wave started at one end of the stadium, traveling through the crowd. People lifted their arms, stood, and then sat back down as the next section repeated the action. I acted without thinking, standing and cheering when our turn came, my mind coming back to the game. I knocked Will on the shoulder with the back of my hand and pointed to number thirty-two on the field. “Is that Shane?”

“Yeah. He looks good tonight.”

“Must be directing all his anger and frustration to the game,” I said, half to myself.

But Will agreed with me. “I think you’re right.”

The next play started. Will talked through what the team was doing, and why. The quarterback held the ball, falling back and searching for a receiver. “Shane’s wide open,” Will said, pointing.

“Throw it!” someone nearby hollered.

The quarterback made a decision in the nick of time, hurling the ball through the air like a missile. It headed straight for Shane. Shane ran, jetting left to adjust for the trajectory of the ball. He lifted his arms, never taking his eyes off the ball, and then he caught it and darted into the end zone.

“Touchdown!” Will whirled around and grabbed me in his arms, lifting me clear off my feet.

We were at eye level, but he let me go and I slid down until my toes touched the plastic-coated bleacher floor. I stayed on tiptoes, lifting my lips to his. We kissed, and for just a minute, the entire stadium disappeared.

*   *   *

Will and I waited by his truck for Gracie. She split off from Holly and Libby when she saw us, waving to them as they headed to Holly’s car. I looked for Leslie and Danica, but they’d been enveloped by the crowd. I’d see them at the brunch in the morning, and I’d already decided I’d help them, as well as Gracie, Holly, and Libby, get ready for the dance. It felt almost as if
I
were going to homecoming, making up for choosing dressmaking over a social life in high school.

But truthfully, I preferred being a spectator and was happy to cheer on Gracie and her friends.

“It was a good game, wasn’t it?” she asked as she came up to us. She mindlessly twirled the ribbons of her mum, her smile fading now that she was with us instead of her friends.

“It was a great game,” Will said. “Shane made that touchdown look like he was taking candy from a baby.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Yeah.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Will opened the passenger door for us before circling around to the driver’s side of the truck.

I stopped Gracie before she got in and climbed to the back. “Are you okay?”

Her chin quivered, but she met my gaze and nodded. “I’m fine.”

She was not fine. Anyone with eyes could see that, and I had the added benefit of knowing her . . . and knowing her well. “Gracie?”

“He’s acting like a different person. I don’t know if he suddenly doesn’t like me anymore, or what’s going on. It’s like he won’t even hardly talk to me.”

I wanted to fold my arms around her and draw her into a comforting hug, but the high schoolers milling around stopped me. Embarrassing her wouldn’t help. “Darlin’, he’s going through a rough time, that’s all. Boys handle stress differently than girls.”

She looked at me expectantly, waiting for me to go on. “We want to talk about things, to hash it all out, sometimes over and over and over again.”

She nodded, her eyes clearing and showing she completely agreed with me.

“Boys, on the other hand,” I continued, “can often tuck something away in the back of their minds and not think about it, but from my experience, that means they also withdraw a little bit. Shane can’t deal with everything that’s going on right now, so he’s just not, but you’re part of that.”

A tear slipped down her cheek and she bit her lower lip. “I just want him to talk to me,” she said, her voice quavering.

“Baby, he will. Give him time.”

“How much time? The dance is tomorrow. I don’t know if—”

She broke off, leaning against the truck. Will waited in the cab. I caught his eye and held up one finger, telling him it would be another minute. He nodded, that look of fatherly concern I’d come to know so well slipping onto his face.

“Did he say he doesn’t want to go to the dance?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Not lately, but he hasn’t said he still wants to go. And now with Mr. Levon . . .”

I leaned one shoulder against the truck next to her. “Gracie, darlin’, you can’t do that. He didn’t have anything to do with Otis Levon, so put that out of your head. He already asked you to the dance. You’re boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s struggling right now, but if he hasn’t said he’s changed his mind, don’t put words in his mouth. Nothing’s changed with the dance. You two will go and, yes, it may be tough for him, and for you, but you’ll get through it and you’ll have a good time.”

She wiped away the tears staining her cheeks and nodded. “We will. You’re right, Harlow.”

This time I did hug her, teenagers be damned. She didn’t seem to mind and, in fact, she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. “Thank you,” she said.

“You’re welcome.” I held the truck’s door open for her and ushered her into the backseat of the extended cab. “Now,” I said, “what’s the status of your homecoming dress?”

She grinned sheepishly. “I tried, Harlow, I really did, but can you . . . would you mind . . . I could use some help,” she finally said. “I’d like the company.”

A zing went through me, and for a moment I felt as if Meemaw had invaded my body, filling me up and making me stand taller. Gracie needed me, and I knew it wasn’t just for the sewing help. She’d confided in me about Shane and what she’d been feeling, and she wanted to spend the evening with me. This was what it felt like to have the love of a child, and to be needed and wanted. It
was a feeling so completely different from being loved by your family, or the love of a man.

Gracie’s love filled my heart so completely that it spilled over. My eyes pricked with tears and for a second, I lost my breath. The love of a child. It was new to me, and I was grateful for it.

She took off her mum to climb into the extended cab of the truck. As I slid into the passenger seat, Will shot me a look, raising one eyebrow in a silent question. Was his daughter okay?

I nodded, smiling, and took his hand. We were all okay.