Strung Out to Die (2 page)

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Authors: Tonya Kappes

Tags: #chick lit, #Fiction, #Mystery

BOOK: Strung Out to Die
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A twinge of jealousy found a pit in my stomach. Men were always falling all over Marlene. He definitely didn’t fit her main requirements. Rich. Rich. RICH.

“Doug Sloan didn’t make it home last night from The Livin’ End.” He stacked another box on top of the ones already in my arms, making the load a little heavy since it was filled with beads. “And as a favor to the Sloan’s, I said I’d look into it.”

I peered around the armful of cardboard and laughed.

It wasn’t unusual for Doug to flaunt the Sloan name around and watch women lay down at his feet. He’d probably hooked up with a young floozy who knew better than to let him go home last night. Marlene would be crushed since she’d been trying to get her claws into Mr. Moneybags for months.

Doug was my best friend and Ginger’s younger brother. The Sloan’s owned almost everything in Swanee, including the cottage I was living in. They owned the hardware shop, the bank, and the grocery store.

The only things they didn’t own were small businesses like The Beaded Dragonfly and Sean’s carpentry business, aptly named Sean’s Little Shack. I never said he was smart, just good in bed.

“You know Doug; he probably went home with some girl.” I hollered over my shoulder on my way back to the storage room. “That will break Marlene’s…”

Something on the floor caused me lose my footing. I teetered and tottered, trying to steady the boxes, but it was too late. The boxes tumbled to the floor, and the beads bounced all over and into The Under. Willow darted out like a vacuum, snorting up all the beads she could.

“Damn.” Disappointed, I turned back toward the storage room door to see what the hell Marlene had left laying on the floor. I let out a blood curdling scream. “Oh my, God!”

It was Doug Sloan.

“What?” Noah ran back as fast as he could. He drew his gun. “Step back, Holly. And take this pig with you.”

I tried to wrangle the bead-eating pet, but she continued to squeal and run the other way when I’d reach for her.

“Holly, please.” Noah looked back and begged as Willow took something near Doug’s head and ran off. “Get that out of her mouth!”

“Here, Willow.” I called for her.

She ran in circles around the table, making me lose my footing again and I fell on my butt.

“Ouch!”

Some beads that were on the floor got embedded in the palm of my hand where I tried to catch my fall.

“Get her!” Noah was still trying to protect Doug—and the crime scene—from Willow’s interference.

Willow squealed her way toward him. Her tail was twirling around like one of those beanie hats with the propeller on top.

“Pull her tail! She’ll spit it out!” I screamed reaching out.

I immediately jumped up and ran over to try to get whatever it was out of her snout. The last thing I wanted her eating was any part of Doug Sloan.

“Pull her tail?” Noah’s eyes had a fear in them I’d never seen.

“You aren’t scared of a pig, are you?” I pulled Willow’s tail and out popped a few of the black and white swirl cat eye beads.

Whew
! I was never so happy to see cat eye beads. I was sure she had picked up a body part.

“No. I’m scared because Doug Sloan is dead.” Noah picked up the beads before Willow could suck them up again and held them out in the palm of his hand. “And the weapon looks like it was a string of these. Willow’s eating my evidence.”

 

Chapter Two

 

The police tape wrapped all the way around the shop caused a flurry of activity outside. The police didn’t let anyone in, or me out. Thank God, Willow used kitty litter, or we’d have been in trouble.

“Let’s go over this one more time.” Noah had me sitting in a chair at one of the bead tables while he read through his notes. “You left Marlene here and went to go meet Ginger at The Livin’ End.”

Slowly I nodded.

“But Ginger didn’t show up, right?” He repeated my statement with a question.

“Right,” I agreed.

“You saw Sean and Doug at The Livin’ end.” Noah looked like he was in the third grade, using his pencil to track what he had written from the questions he had asked me earlier.

“Were they talking to each other?” He looked up from under his eyebrows.

“Umm, hmm.” My lips pinched together. I wasn’t going to let anything slip out of them.

I rolled a bead between my pincer finger and thumb as I thought about the conversation—make that the fight I overheard–between Sean and Doug at The Livin’ End last night. But there was no way I was going to give up any more information than I needed to.

Had Sean killed Doug?
I wondered, gazing back at Dead Doug’s spot.
And if he did, why? Why here? Why frame me?

I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Sean Harper.

Leaning to the right, I zeroed in on Noah’s little notepad. He was writing way more information down than I had relayed to him.

Don’t change your posture.
I repeated in my head. I had seen far too many CSI TV shows to know that when a police officer questions you, they were taking in everything from the way the suspect sits, to the way they play with their fingers…
Wait! Am I a suspect?

His eyes narrowed, and he jerked the pad closer to his chest. “And you
didn’t
come back here after Ginger failed to show up? And you didn’t know Doug was coming here?”

“No, and no, to both questions.” My heartbeat quickened and I folded my hands in my lap so he couldn’t see them shaking.

Suddenly, I was feeling like a suspect, when all I did was literally stumble across Doug’s dead body.

One of the officers slid across the floor, thanks to the entire bead debacle and with a flurry of expletives, he fell and ended up feet-first in
The Under
with the beads he slipped on. I watched them roll to The Under, secretly wishing I were down there, too.

In the back of the shop, the phone was ringing off the hook. Thank God, I didn’t have a cell phone. I knew the Divas must have been desperately trying to get in touch with me.

“Free Holly!”

There was a small group of people gathered outside of the shop, chanting with their fists pumping in the air. Agnes Pearl stood in front of the group leading them. I couldn’t help but smile at the spry eighty-five year-old.

A police officer stood in front of them with his hands out, barring them from coming up the steps.

The phone continued to ring. Normally I hate talking on the phone, but right now, it would be better than sitting here under the interrogation of Noah Druck.

“Can I get that?” I asked him.

“Fine, answer it.”

I jumped up before he could change his mind. If I was lucky, I might slip and fall from the loose beads on the floor and knock myself out.

“And don’t say a word about the murder to anyone,” he chirped over his shoulder.

“The Beaded Dragonfly,” I answered as upbeat as I could, I was sure it was Flora calling from outside, but it wasn’t.

“What on earth is going on over there?” Bernadine Frisk, one of the Divorced Divas asked.

I could practically feel her beady, jade eyes searing the phone line. “I heard that the police have you surrounded!”

“Free Holly!” Agnes had both fists in the air now, and a scowl on her face.

I swallowed hard, looking around. There seemed to be a lot of police officers’ eyes focused on me. “I…” I couldn’t think straight. It was as if the police officers wanted to hear what I was going to say.

Suddenly, my mouth dried. My eyes darted between all of the policemen staring at me. Unabashedly eavesdropping, they had stopped dusting the beads, chair legs, tables, and doorknobs.
Did they think that I killed Doug?

“Holly?” Patience wasn’t one of Diva Bernadine’s best traits. “What’s going on? I heard Doug Sloan was found in there. Dead. Is that true?”

“Well, yes. But I’m not allowed to say anything.” Cautiously choosing my words, I added, “Yet.”

“Does this mean we aren’t going to be able to meet there tonight?” Bernadine asked, as if a dead Doug Sloan wasn’t reason enough to postpone a Diva’s meeting.

“I haven’t had time to think about it. Hold on.” I covered the mouth of the phone and said to Noah, “When am I getting my shop back?”

“Not tonight.” Noah looked at the other officers and motioned for them to get back to work. He brushed fingerprint dust on anything clean.

“Not tonight, Bernadine.” I wondered how long I was going to have to stay. I wondered if I needed a lawyer, but was too afraid to ask. If I asked, it would seem as if I was guilty, if I didn’t, it still seemed like I was guilty. So I just kept my mouth shut. “Can you call all the other Divas and tell them we need to reschedule for tomorrow night?”

“Yes I will, but I will be…” I didn’t let her finish her sentence. I was in a full-crisis situation, and meeting with the Divas wasn’t on the top of my priority list.

Besides, I knew she’d be waiting on my steps when I got home. After all, she only lived across the lake. Bernadine was the Diva who had to know everything going on in Swanee, especially something big like this.

I hung up the phone and noticed white dust all over the cradle, then realized the powdery mix now covered every surface, and my beautiful beads were no longer glistening. My head hurt thinking about cleaning each and every bead by hand. And how much of an investment I had in them, only to possibly be going to jail for a murder I did not commit.

I couldn’t go to jail, and I had a huge balance on my credit card to pay off.

A police officer with a broom was sweeping up the beads per Noah’s orders.

“Hey!” I yelled. The police officer looked at me. “Do you think you could clean under those shelves?”

After a moment’s pause, he shrugged and bent down, sweeping the broom through the two-inch
Under
. Beads and dust went everywhere. The officer waved his hand to clear the plume of dust around his head.

Pretty darn pleased that I didn’t have to clean it, I glanced over at Noah, who was giving me the stink-eye. I needed to make a quick phone call.

“I have a client consultation this morning. I think I should call and reschedule.” I really hated to call the McGee’s, but I’m sure they had already heard from the Sloans.

“Fine.” Noah gestured to me to go ahead. “Hurry up. And don’t say anything about Doug.”

Margaret McGee didn’t answer at the cell phone number she’d left on The Beaded Dragonfly’s answering machine. Unfortunately, it was the only number I had for her. I really hoped she checked her messages and wouldn’t just show up and see this mess, because if she did, she probably wouldn’t let me design and make the accessories for her bridal party. That wouldn’t be good.

I was counting on her giving me referrals since she was Swanee’s reigning beauty queen and president of The Junior League. Plus she was the daughter of Swanee’s city attorney, Bear McGee.

Margaret McGee knew a lot of people who I was sure could use a beaded jewelry maker like me.

Chapter Three

 

Once the police were finished and Doug was removed from my storeroom floor, I took a minute for myself. Normally, I’d walk Willow to help clear my head, but not today. Especially not on the Main Street of Swanee. Everyone was still milling around the shop, anxious for news.

Noah’s words rang loud and clear in my mind. “Holly, we really need to get a statement about exactly what you were doing last night. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll be forced to bring you in for formal questioning.”

I couldn’t shake the notion that I might not only be a key witness, but Noah seemed to be alluding that I might be a suspect along with Sean. I walked back to the boxes where I found Willow lying in one of them. Her little dark-spotted pink body was almost too cute to wake up, but I had to get these boxes out of the way, and moving them helped to clear my mind.

Could Sean really have killed him
?

“I’ll get you back for this,” was all I could recall overhearing Sean say to Doug last night when I was leaving The Livin’ End.

Fear knotted in my belly. Had I really been married to a killer?

No. No way! Sure, Sean was a jerk and would purposely leave the toilet seat up at night because he knew darn good and well that I pee every single night at two a.m., and leaving up the seat would cause me to fall in, but there was no way he was capable of murder.

If he was, why Doug?

Doug Sloan’s work wasn’t as good as Sean’s was, and he did get most of the carpentry jobs for the city and private residences, but that was only because he had the last name of Sloan. Even then, Sean would go behind and clean up fifty-percent of Doug’s messes. Being the good friend I am, I had never let it come between Ginger, and me, even when I was married to Sean.

I flinched when I heard a knock on the door. Willow jumped up, wide-awake, and ran back to the storage closet as fast as her little hooves would carry her.

I had just gotten rid of the police. The last thing I wanted was a nosy visitor trying to check out Doug’s chalk outline.

I shoved the boxes into the furthest corner to get them out of the way. These beads were not going to get put out today. I’d be cleaning all the dust the police left behind.

Turning the corner, I was surprised to see Diva Marlene’s hot-pink nails tearing the police tape in half. When she saw me coming, she smiled, waving me over to unlock the door.

Reluctantly, I did.

Marlene wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter.

“What happened to Doug? Did the police name a suspect?” Marlene chomped her gum and pushed her way into The Beaded Dragonfly.

Willow ran back out to see who was making all the commotion.

I’d never seen someone chew the hell out of a piece of gum like Marlene did, one piece after another. Many times, I’d had to remind her not to chew so loud during beading class, because no one else could concentrate.

“That pig is going to be a ‘pig on a stick’ if my high-heels catch her one day.” Marlene smacked her lips together and chased Willow back into the storage room.

Groink, groink, groink,
Willow snorted out of sight.

Marlene loved to dress in leopard print
anything,
including high-heels. I’m not sure what her deceased husband did when he was alive, but he sure kept her looking good. Even on her days off, she wore heels. “You never know who you’re going to run into,” she always said, with her acrylic nails batting the air. Amazingly, those claws didn’t stop her from beading.

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