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Authors: Carol Ann Martin

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BOOK: Loom and Doom
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“I forgot to ask you yesterday. What about motive? Why do they think I would have wanted to kill Swanson any more than anyone else?”

He sighed. “They seem to think that Swanson refused to give your store a permit, and when you went to his office, the discussion turned into an argument and in the heat of the moment you lost control and hit him over the head with a bookend.” He looked at his watch. “I'd better get going. See you later.”

I plastered on a smile and gave him a quick kiss. As soon as he left, Marnie came forward.

“Did I just hear right? The police are looking at you as a suspect?”

I nodded and fought the sudden surge of tears.

“Take this,” Marnie said, handing me a tissue. “All I can say is they must be pretty desperate if they're considering you. I think you and I are going to have to solve this case for them, if we want to keep you out of jail.”

Those were my thoughts exactly. I snatched the landline and scrolled through my in calls until I found the city hall number and pressed
REDIAL
.

“Well, hello, Della,” Johanna said. “What can I do for you?”

“I have a problem, Johanna, and I hope you can help.”

“Sure, whatever I can do.”

“The police found blood on the shirt and the shoes I was wearing the day I found Swanson's body. And I was wondering whether Ronald Dempsey might have touched me that morning. Do you remember?”

“You think Ronald . . . Oh, my. Let me see. I remember the blouse you were wearing. It was pretty paisley with lots of colors. No wonder nobody noticed if there was blood on it.” She was silent for a few seconds. And then, “I think I do remember him coming close to you. He got you a glass of water and he came right up to you when you took it. But whether he touched you? I don't know. He might have.”

“Thanks, Johanna. You've been a great help.” I hung up. Marnie was looking at me worriedly.

“So, did he or didn't he?”

“She doesn't remember him touching me, but he got close enough that he might have.”

“Hold on. I think, no matter how upset I was, I'd remember if a man touched my blouse.”

“I guess it depends on where the blood was found. If it was a chest level, he'd have gotten a slap in the face.” I picked up the phone again. This time I dialed Matthew's number.

“I was just wondering something,” I said. “Did the police happen to tell you where on my blouse they found the blood?”

“It was on your left sleeve,” he said. I gave Marnie a thumbs-up signal. “Why do you ask?” he continued.

“Because, if it had been on the front, I would have noticed.”

“Good point. And since it was on your left sleeve, it could have been transferred there by somebody's right hand when they were facing you.”

I smiled into the phone. “That's exactly what I was thinking. And that's the kind of everyday gesture that nobody would notice.” We said good-bye and hung up.

“Okay, so now we know that the blood could have been transferred there by a third party,” Marnie said. “And you suspect it was that Dempsey fellow. So I have a question. Does that mean Mona Swanson has been cleared by the police?”

I shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Do we start looking for other suspects in case?”

“I think I'd be crazy not to.” I thought for a second. “If the killer is Dempsey, I wonder if I could get him to admit it.”

“And pray tell, dear, how in the world would you do that?”

Chapter 21

M
y plan was simple. I would confront Dempsey at his home and record our conversation on my cell. And then I'd do what all good poker players do. I'd bluff.

Now that I had decided, I could barely wait for the day to end. Marnie, of course, was finding flaw after flaw with my plan.

“Five minutes ago you were sure Mona was the killer. Now, all of a sudden you think it's Dempsey.”

“I told the police about the bumper sticker on Mona's car. I told them her motor was still hot, five minutes before I found Syd's body. If they still think I'm a suspect, they must have eliminated her.”

“Or they simply don't believe anything you tell them.”

I sighed. “Maybe you're right. Maybe Dempsey had nothing to do with either murder, but what else am I supposed to do? Sit and wait for them to arrest me? There's nothing wrong with checking out Dempsey. I sure as hell know
I
didn't kill anyone, and if the police don't think Mona is the killer, then the next best suspect is him. If someone was blackmailing me into giving him a fifty percent discount on a one-point-five-million-dollar house, I think I'd like him gone—not that I'd kill anyone, but seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars is more than enough for a lot of people to commit murder for.”

“I suppose. And who knows how much he would have wanted if there'd been a phase three. But I can't believe you're even considering going to his home and confronting him. That's the kind of plan that could get you killed. And if you're right, and he's already killed two people, what makes you think he won't kill a third time?”

“That's where you come in. I'll leave my cell phone on with you at the other end. You'll be waiting in the car. You'll hear every word he and I say. If at any point you think I'm in danger, start honking the horn like crazy and call the police.”

“Good plan, Einstein, except, I don't have a cell phone.”

“Ask Jenny if you can borrow hers. She'll say yes.”

She groaned. “What makes you think he'd admit it? Ronald Dempsey didn't become so successful by being a stupid man. He'll never say the words, ‘I killed him.' And that's what you need if you want a confession that sticks.”

“It doesn't matter. This tape could never be used against him in court.”

“So why are you doing this?”

“For the police. If they hear it, they'll know I'm innocent and leave me alone.”

“I'm not so sure about that,” she grumbled.

“Will you come with me?”

Before she could answer, the door swung open and Judy Bates walked in, and a second later Jenny appeared carrying a tray with coffee and muffins.

“Yum, that looks good,” Judy said as Jenny set the tray on the counter. “Wish I could join you, but I'm just dropping by to let you know that the
Belmont Daily
is doing a style page featuring my home. Isn't that exciting? They're sending a photographer over in a couple of days and he'll be taking pictures of my living room. The reporter fell in love with your pieces. I told her you made them and made her promise to mention you in her article.”

“You did that?” I asked. “I don't know what to say. Thank you so very much. That'll be a huge coup for me.”

“That was so thoughtful of you,” Jenny said.

“Think nothing of it,” Judy said. “It's so nice to have somebody offering the kind of quality home goods that you do, it's my pleasure to do whatever I can to help spread the word.”

I was overwhelmed. Marnie stepped closer. “I'm working on place mats to add to the collection,” she said. “Would you like to see?”

“Absolutely,” Judy replied, and followed her to the back.

“See?” Jenny whispered. “I told you that a friend would do you a good turn. That was the dagger in your cup.” She gave me a satisfied little smile and left. A moment later Marnie and Judy returned.

“Please reserve the first four you finish for me. Is there any chance I could get them before the photographer comes?”

Marnie thought for a moment. “I can definitely promise you two or three by then. I'll try for all four, but it might be tight.”

“I'll take whatever you have.”

“Let me give you a discount,” I said. “You've been so kind to tell the reporter about my work.”

“I won't hear of it,” she said. “Call me the minute they're done.”

She walked out, leaving me overcome with guilt. “I can't believe how nice she is,” I said.

“I'm surprised you're not considering her a suspect too.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I'm just saying. One minute it's Syd, then Mona, then it's Dempsey.”

“For your information, I still think Mona is guilty. But I'm just covering all my bases. Especially since the police don't seem to suspect her of anything. I must be missing something that they know already.”

“You may be right about Mona. Whenever I watch those televised true crime dramas, the killer is always somebody close to the victims.”

I nodded. “That's been my observation too. If the killer isn't the spouse, then it's somebody else close—a lover, a sibling, a child. I still think Mona Swanson is the one person with the most to gain through both deaths.” I stopped as a new idea came to me. “You know who I never considered? Swanson's
ex
-wife. I wonder what happened to her after they divorced.”

Marnie rolled her eyes. “Good grief. Next you'll be suspecting me.”

I ignored that. Sometimes Marnie just liked to get my goat. I opened my laptop and typed in Sondra Swanson in the online Belmont phone book. Nothing. I typed it again, this time in Briar Hollow. Still nothing. “I know who could tell me—Johanna,” I said, already grabbing the telephone.

“Me again,” I said. “I just have one quick question. Do you know what happened to Swanson's first wife after they divorced?”

“You mean Sondra?” She paused. “You think she might have killed him?”

“All I know at this point is that
I'm
innocent. So I'm looking at every possible suspect. And, generally speaking, most murders are committed by spouses or lovers.”

“Hmm. I never thought of that. But you might be right. Sondra was very upset when Howard left her. She had a fit in his office, accusing him of being a two-timer. And she happened to be right about that. He
was
having an affair.”

“With Mona?”

“Why, yes, dear. Who else could it be?” she said.

“Would you happen to know where his ex-wife lives now?”

“Last I heard, she moved away from Belmont. But don't ask me where. I have no idea.”

“Oh. That's too bad,” I said. “Thanks anyway. If you happen to think of anyone who might know, give me a call.”

“What are you going to do? Try to find her?”

“Possibly. But it won't be easy without at least a general idea. I might check out Charlotte. Most people around here have relatives living there.”

“I'd remember if she'd moved to Charlotte. I'm sure she said it was somewhere else, but I can't, for the life of me, remember where. I remember she had some sort of breakdown after the divorce. She wouldn't leave her house and wouldn't even pick up her phone. I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't even bother getting connected in her new place.”

“It sounds like the divorce devastated her.”

“It did. She sort of lost her mind for a while. I hope she's better now, poor thing.”

I thanked her, said good-bye and hung up. I returned to my laptop and typed in a search for the entire state of North Carolina. Dozens of listings with the name Swanson popped up, but none had the first name Sondra, nor even the initial S.

“Maybe she reverted to her maiden name,” Marnie said. “I bet Johanna'll know.”

“I just called her two minutes ago. I hate to be a pest. I'll give her a call tomorrow.”

“Unless you get a confession from Dempsey before then,” she said with a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I just want to make sure I look at all the possibilities.”

•   •   •

At four thirty Matthew called. “I just found out I have to drive into Charlotte to meet with my agent. Would you mind keeping Winston overnight?”

“Of course not. You know I love having him over. Besides, I always feel safer with Winnie around.”

“I wish I could stay with you and make you feel safe,” he said in a teasing voice. And then, “What's making you nervous?”

“Maybe I'm just being silly. I felt uncomfortable on my own after finding Swanson's body. But now, after a second murder, I'm really spooked.”

“You're not being silly. I worry about you too. That's why I keep telling you to be careful,” he said. “By the way. I have some good news for you. The blood on your clothes was not human. It was from a dog.”

All at once I remembered. Winston had scraped his paw and I'd washed it and dressed it. I must have gotten blood on my clothes at the same time. My heart skipped a beat. “Does that mean they don't consider me a suspect anymore?”

“I wouldn't go that far, but it sure didn't hurt.” He paused. “Listen, I have to get going.”

“Before you do, I just remembered I'm out of dog food,” I said. “Would you mind if I dropped by to pick some up when I take him for his walk?”

“Sure. I might already be gone by then. Just make sure to lock it when you leave.”

“No problem. And thanks.”

I turned to Marnie after hanging up. “We're good to go, and Winston is coming too.”

I calculated my daily sales—which were more than twice the usual amount—and prepared the deposit. Marnie had borrowed Jenny's cell phone. I had mine in my pocket and it was equipped with a recording app.

“We're as ready as we'll ever be,” I said as we locked up.

“Let's use my car,” Marnie said. “It'll be less noticeable.” We climbed into her small Honda with Winston in the back. “By the way,” she added once I'd dropped off my daily deposit, “I don't know how to use Jenny's cell phone. What if I have to call the police?”

“Give it to me,” I said. I punched in 9-1-1 and handed it back. “All you have to do is press the little green telephone. Think you can handle that?”

“My, but we sure are touchy, aren't we?”

“Sorry. I guess I'm a bit nervous. I shouldn't be taking it out on you.”

“Don't worry about it. I've known you long enough to know that you get snippy when you're nervous. All that tells me is that maybe you're not so sure this is a good idea, and that maybe it's not too late for me to change your mind.”

“I'm not turning back,” I said, hoping I wasn't making a huge mistake.

•   •   •

After about twenty minutes of driving up and down the street, we finally located Dempsey's house. It was set back from the road, and was so well hidden, most people would never guess there was anything there but a small wooded area.

“This doesn't make me feel much better,” Marnie said. “He could have you killed and buried before anybody finds the house.”

“Now you're letting your imagination run wild. Just keep that phone glued to your ear.”

She pressed it to her ear.

“Can you hear me?” I asked, speaking into my own phone.

“Loud and clear, both on the phone and in person.”

“Good.” I climbed out. “Wish me luck.”

“Break a leg,” she said.

I followed the path until the house came into view. It was large and modern—lots of glass and dark tile.

“Can you hear me, Marnie?”

“Sure can.”

“Okay, ready or not, here I come.” I pressed the
RECORD
button, dropped my cell into my jacket pocket and rang the doorbell. My heart was beating so loudly I wondered if Marnie could hear it from her phone.

I pressed the bell twice and had just turned to walk away when the door suddenly flew open and I found myself face-to-face with Ronald Dempsey. He looked at me blankly for a moment, and then recognition flashed in his eyes.

“I know you,” he said. “You're that girl who found Swanson.”

“Della,” I said.

“What can I do for you, Della?”

“I have some news you might be interested in,” I said.

He frowned. “Really?” he asked, and stepped aside. “Come in.” He closed the door behind me. I heard him turn the dead bolt and my knees almost gave out.

“I'm only going to be here for a moment. You don't have to lock the door.”

“Force of habit,” he said, but I couldn't help noticing that he didn't unlock it.

Please be listening, Marnie.

“So what is it you wanted to tell me?”

I took a deep breath. “I know what you did,” I said, trying to keep my knees from shaking.

His eyebrows jumped up. “What did I do?”

“Swanson was blackmailing you. You had to sell him a house for hundreds of thousands less than the listed price. You might have been able to swallow that, except now, with the second phase of your project ready to start, he wanted more. You knew he was going to be a problem that would never go away.” The blood had drained from his face. I had hit a nerve, and I knew it. “And that's why you killed him.”

Dempsey stood frozen in shock. Then, I watched the fear in his eyes turned into something else—rage.

“You have a lot of nerve barging in here and accusing me of murder.”

“I'm not through,” I said. “You thought you were being so smart, telling the police you saw me wiping blood from my clothes. You were trying to throw suspicion on me, but that backfired. That's why I first began to suspect you. I figured the only reason you would do that was if you were guilty.”

“So, you're the reason the police showed up wanting my clothes earlier,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “Let me make myself perfectly clear. If you think you're going to pick up where Swanson left off, you have another surprise coming.” He suddenly took a step toward me.

BOOK: Loom and Doom
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