Eggs Benedict Arnold (38 page)

“
And you don
’
t think Earl
’
s a killer, do you?
”

Suzanne managed another small shake.
I
don
’
t know what to think.

Missy surprised her with a quick hug.
“
You
’
re a dear to model this outfit,
”
she told Suzanne.
“
And an absolute
angel for looking into things. I know you
’
ve been trying to
deflect Doogie
’
s scrutiny off me and for that I
’
m eternally grateful.
”

“
Not a problem,
”
said Suzanne. Although it really kind
of was.

When Suzanne emerged from the dressing room, hap
pily back in civilian clothes, she saw that a white satin cur
tain had been draped across the entire back of the store. Groups of white folding chairs were being arranged out front.

“
Wow,
”
said Suzanne.
“
There
’
s going to be a runway?
”

“
Of sorts,
”
said Missy.
“
We
’
ll lay down white vinyl runners and weave them through the shop. That way everyone
will be able to get a good look at the clothing.
”

“
Gulp,
”
said Suzanne. Then she and Missy both turned
as a little bell tinkled and the front door swung open.

It was Earl Stensrud.
“
Hiya, sweetheart,
”
he called to
Missy, a big smile on his face.

“
You paste up that program
I
’
m supposed to take to Copy Shop?
”

“
I
’
ll grab it,
”
said Missy, hustling toward the back counter.

Earl finally noticed Suzanne.
“
Hey there,
”
he said to her.
“
You thought any more about that extra insurance?
”

“
Not really,
”
said Suzanne.
“
I
’
m not anticipating any
earthquakes, floods, or fires of biblical proportion.
”

“
Okay,
”
said Earl.
“
Suit yourself.
”
He bounced from
foot to foot, waiting for Missy, looking pleased.

“
Earl,
”
said Suzanne,
“
you look like the cat who swallowed the canary.
”

“
That sounds awfully accusatory, Suzanne,
”
said Earl. His smile had suddenly vanished.

“
Chipper, then,
”
Suzanne amended.
“
I
’
d say you
’
re looking exceedingly chipper.
”

“
Now that Missy
’
s available again,
”
said Earl, brushing
past Suzanne and homing in on Missy,
“
I feel like a million
bucks.
”

Back
at the Cackleberry Club, the Knit-In was still chugging along. A few finished pieces were already up for sale and the cafe
”
had drawn a large crowd of women for after
noon tea.

Petra had gone back into the kitchen to whip up crab
salad and ham and Swiss cheese tea sandwiches and bake a few pans of blueberry scones. Toni had just finished brew
ing pots of lemon verbena and orchid tea, so those lovely
aromas wafted languidly across the
café
turning the Cack
leberry Club into an aro
m
at
herapy bazaar.

“
I have to have that ruffled shawl,
”
Suzanne said, as Petra positioned the second tier on a newly baked cake.

“
Then you better hustle into the Knitting Nest and claim
it,
”
Petra advised.
“
Everything
’
s flying out of here like crazy.
”

“
So a big success,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Totally,
”
agreed Petra.
“
In fact, some of us gals who
are also quilters have been so
inspired;
we
’
re going to do a
quilt trail next month.
”

“
Never heard of that,
”
said Suzanne.

“
Oh,
”
said Petra,
“
it
’
ll be really neat. We
’
re going to
display large wooden quilt squares as well as some actual quilts on the sides of historic barns, churches, and homes. Then there
’
ll be an accompanying quilt trail map that will lead tourists along the most scenic back roads and also in
dicate fun stops like antique shops, farmer
’
s markets, restaurants, and orchards.
”

“
Wow,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Talk about weaving history into
the mix and helping boost business! I bet you can even partner with the county historical society and get lots of sponsors, too.
”

“
I think so.
”
Petra smiled.

“
In fact, I
’
ll do anything I can to help,
”
said Suzanne. She nodded toward a couple of cakes that were cooling on the window ledge.
“
What
’
s the deal with those cakes? For us?
”

Petra shook her head.
“
Nope. Special order for Carmen Copeland. Gonna make her a cake in the shape of a handbag.
”

“
You
’
re kidding,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Really?
”

Petra nodded.
“
Carmen ordered it when she was here
yesterday. Even gave me a magazine photo to work from.
See?
”
Petra reached in her apron pocket and pulled out a
Vogue
ad that featured a fancy pastel blue
quilted leather
bag with
a
chain strap.
“
For her grand opening tomorrow.
”

“
Gadz,
”
said Suzanne. Carmen really was going overboard to woo the local
ladies
.

“
Hey, take a plate of scones into the Knitting Nest, will
you? Those
ladies
have been holed up in there all day.
”

“
Gotcha,
”
said Suzanne.

But just as she grabbed the scones from the display case,
just as she was about to swerve into the Knitting Nest, Su
zanne spotted Sheriff Doogie edging his way through the
front door. So she changed direction and headed him off.

“
Suzanne,
”
said Doogie, sweeping his hat from his
head, running a hand through his thinning gray hair, all in
one motion.
“
What
’
s going on?
”
He seemed surprised and
curious to see so many women sitting around with knitting
needles clacking and balls of yarn unrolling.

“
A Knit-In,
”
she told him.
“
It
’
s a kind of charity event.
”

“
Hah,
”
was his response.

“
I don
’
t mean to criticize, Sheriff, but you
’
re looking a little discombobulated.
”

“
Heck of a thing,
”
said Doogie.
“
We got an anonymous
tip this morning on a couple of guys who were growing marijuana.
”

“
No kidding.
”
Suzanne let her uneasiness come across as surprise.
“
Wow.
”

“
And then we got a call about those wild boar are running around the county, tramping through yards and digging up gardens.
”

“
Hard to catch,
”
said Suzanne.

Doogie glanced toward the counter where his eye
wandered to the pastry case. The action was not lost on Suzanne.

“
You got time for a cup of coffee?
”
Suzanne offered.
“
And maybe a scone?
”

“
Don
’
t mind if I do,
”
said Doogie.

Suzanne delivered her scones, then scampered back and
poured coffee into an oversized white ceramic mug for Doogie. She placed a scone on a plate, tapped on a dollop of Devonshire cream, then slid the whole shebang across the counter to him. While Doogie munched and slurped, she quizzed him gently.

“
So what
’
s the deal with the marijuana guys?
”
Suzanne asked.
“
You think they were running a me
th
lab, too?
”

“
Not that I could see.
”
Doogie took another bite, half closed his eyes, and chewed appreciatively.
“
Dang, these are good.
”

“
Petra whips up a tasty scone,
”
agreed Suzanne. She waited a couple more beats.
“
Do you suppose those guys
are somehow connected to the murders?
”
Doogie stopped chewing for a moment and stared at her.
“
Why would you
say that?
”

“
Oh, I don
’
t know. Maybe because people will chitchat
and try to draw a connection?
”

“
The nice thing about living in a small town,
”
muttered
Doogie,
“
is that when you don
’
t know what you
’
re doing, somebody else does.
”

“
Good one,
”
said Suzanne.

Doogie finished his scone, then turned an eye on the pastry case once again.

“
Another one?
”
she asked.
“
To keep up your strength?
”

Doogie nodded.
“
I need to stay at the top of my game.
”

“
Because you
’
re up for reelection, too,
”
said Suzanne.