Wicked Stitch (9 page)

I
t was nearly closing time when Todd came by my booth with two cups of apricot ale. I wasn’t a big beer drinker, but I liked Todd’s craft-brewed ale.

“Where’s Ted?” he asked. “I brought you guys some refreshment.”

“Thank you,” I said. “But he wanted to go by the police station before Manu left for the day, and he said he’d stop at the house and check on Angus.”

“Well, then, I guess I’ll have to drink his.” Todd put both cups on the table and came around to sit on the vacant folding chair. “Have you done good business today?”

“Pretty good.” I took a sip of the ale. “This hits the spot. Thanks. How about you? How’s your business been?”

“Fair. I expect it to be better tomorrow and Sunday.” He winked. “The rowdy revelers always come on the weekends.”

“I hope they bring the sassy stitchers with them.
I’d hate to think you were having all the fun,” I said. “By the way, have you visited the fortune-telling tent yet?”

“Yet? You say that as if you actually expect me to go.” He took a drink of his ale.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“And the very fact that you asked me the question lets me know that you’ve been there,” he said. “So, how’d it go? Did they tell you you’re going to fall in love with the craft brewer across the street, dump Marshall Dillon, and make sweet apricot ale with the other guy?”

“No, they did not. And it’s a good thing because I don’t want Deputy Dayton to shoot me.” Todd had been dating Deputy Audrey Dayton, and I felt certain she wouldn’t appreciate his joke.

He laughed. “So what
did
they tell you?”

“To watch my back,” I said.

“That’s fairly vague and common, right? Like a fortune cookie saying.” He shrugged. “It’s no big deal . . . is it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never got a fortune from a cookie telling me to watch my back.
Good things will come your way
maybe, but I’ve never been warned by a cookie.”

He pushed my cup closer to me. “Drink up. It sounds like you need it. I can’t believe you took that stuff seriously.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t found Clara strangled to death in her booth last night,” I said.

“Yeah . . . I heard about that. Are you doing okay?”

I took a small sip of the ale. I knew I’d be driving soon, and I didn’t want to overdo it. “I’m all right . . . pretty much.”

“Spill it.”

“I don’t know, Todd. I have to look like the main suspect to Manu. Clara opened her shop right beside mine selling the same types of things. . . . She even copied my decor!”

“But you were in your shop until late yesterday with your class,” he said. “Heck, even I can vouch for that.”

“Still, I found her. And Nellie has always hated me. She’ll try every way in the world to convince Manu that I killed her sister,” I said.

“Manu knows you,” Todd said. “And Ted knows you even better than that.”

“But Ted isn’t on the case anymore. Nellie has accused him as a suspect, too.”

“You’re kidding!”

“I wish,” I said. “This is such a nightmare.” I bit my lower lip. “You know . . . she likes you.”

“Nellie?”

I nodded. “You could stop by, see how she’s doing . . .”

“You want me to fly under the radar and get you some intel. That
is
what you’re saying, isn’t it?” He finished off his ale.

“Would you?”

“For you, yes.” He nodded at my cup. “Are you planning on finishing that?”

“No. I’ll be driving soon.”

“I have a higher tolerance level than you do,”
he said, finishing off my ale himself. “And I need all the courage I can get before going to visit Nellie Davis.”

I hugged him. “Thank you, Todd.”

He kissed my cheek, and his breath was fruity. “You owe me . . . big. I’ll stop by and tell you what I learn, if anything.”

*   *   *

Before going home, I went by the Seven-Year Stitch to see how Julie had done. I hoped she didn’t think I was checking up on her. I suppose that
is
what I was doing, but I simply wanted to make sure everything went well and that there was nothing she needed from me before calling it a day.

“Hi!” I said when I walked into the shop.

“Oh my gosh, you look fantastic!” she said. “Spin around and let me get a three-sixty view of that dress.”

I did as she asked.

“That’s great, Marcy. You really look the part. Did you do well at the Faire today?”

“I did. I had a lot of fun . . . more than Ted did.” I laughingly told her about the elderly women who’d stopped by while he was watching the booth for me.

“Did they ever come back?” she asked.

“No, they never did.” I giggled. “Poor Ted . . . he’d run his hands through his hair to the point that it was standing straight up. I hope your time managing the Stitch was a much better experience.”

“It was. Traffic was sporadic and of course there were a few lookie-loos who came in because they were passing by Clara’s shop and wanted to know if I knew anything about her death.” Julie shook her head. “I said I didn’t know anything and asked them if they preferred cross-stitch or needlepoint.”

“Oh, that was good,” I said. “I’ll have to remember that. I never know what to say when I’m put on the spot like that.”

“When you have a teenager in your house, you learn to think on your feet.” She smiled. “One odd thing, though. There was a young woman who came in looking for Clara. She said she’d heard about Knitted and Needled and came by but was surprised to see that it was closed. She wondered whether that was just for today.”

“What did you tell her?” I asked.

“I didn’t know if she was merely fishing for information or what, but she seemed genuine,” said Julie. “I told her that I was just filling in here for the owner today but that if I wasn’t mistaken, the proprietress of Knitted and Needled had suffered some sort of accident yesterday and I didn’t know when she’d be back.”

“Wow, you really are good at deflecting questions,” I said.

She spread her hands. “Again, mother of a teenager—what can I say? I couldn’t figure out if she was looking for the shop or for Clara, though, so I asked her if there was anything here I could help her with or have you order for her, but she said no.”

“I wonder who she was.”

“I have no idea, but I’ll find a way to ask if she comes in again,” she said. “I doubt she’ll be back if she was truly looking for Clara instead of the shop.”

“It couldn’t have been a member of her family because they would all have been notified by now,” I said.

“That’s what I thought, too. She seemed troubled, but I didn’t get the impression she was terribly upset. She could’ve been a distant relative who hadn’t heard about Clara’s death yet, I guess.”

“Did you ask if she knew Nellie?” I asked.

Julie shook her head. “I figured it was best if I said very little, which is what I did.”

“You’re probably right. I try to stay out of the middle of these things . . . and yet, time and again, I find myself right there.”

*   *   *

I was happy to see Ted’s car in my driveway when I got home. I went inside, and he was stretched out on the sofa watching the local news.

I dropped a kiss on his lips before stretching out beside him. “Are they saying anything about Clara?”

He nodded. “Paul was right. Clara’s murder is the big headline. The anchor reported that Clara had been found strangled to death last night in an apparent homicide in her booth at the Tallulah Falls Renaissance Faire. They asked for anyone with any knowledge of the incident or who might’ve
seen something strange at the merchants’ building to come forward.”

“Do you think anyone will?” I asked.

“I hope so, but it isn’t likely. Manu questioned people all day, and if anyone saw anything, they’re not talking about it,” he said. “By the way, I fed Angus and let him go back outside for a bit. Are you hungry? I thought maybe we could make dinner.”

“I am hungry. What are you in the mood for?”

“I’m in the mood for lasagna, thick crusty bread, and a Caesar salad,” he said.

“Works for me,” I replied. “Do I have time to take a quick shower before we get started?”

“You go on and take your shower, and I’ll work on dinner. How’s that?”

I kissed him deeply. “You’re wonderful.”

“I know.” He smiled.

I went upstairs, took off my dress, and hung it up. I’d drop it off at the dry cleaners on the way to the fairgrounds tomorrow morning.

The shower felt wonderful. The warm water seemed to wash my fatigue away and left me feeling refreshed.

I dressed in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and went back downstairs. I went into the kitchen and was a little surprised to see Ted and Todd sitting at the kitchen table.

“You smell amazing!” Todd said. He looked at Ted. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I know,” said Ted. “Now put your eyes . . . and your nose . . . back in your head.”

Todd laughed.

“Did Todd tell you I asked him to go see Nellie?” I asked Ted.

Ted nodded. “And the result of that visit is playing in the backyard with Angus.”

“What?” I hurried over to the door. Clover and Angus were lying near the door. Angus looked up at me, mouth wide and tail wagging.

I went back to the table. “How’d you end up with Clover?”

“Apparently, Nellie is allergic,” said Todd. “Plus, she’s grieving and doesn’t have time to care for an animal.” He spread his hands. “On top of that, she doesn’t strike me as the caregiving type. So I told her I’d ask around and see if I could find Clover a good home. Next thing I know, she’s packed up all its stuff and is handing it to me.”

“So now you’re the proud owner of a bunny,” I said. “Congratulations! Bring her by to see Angus whenever you want. They really do like each other.”

“Well . . . you see . . . I was . . . sorta thinking . . . you know . . .
you
might want to keep Clover,” he said. “I told you that you’d owe me big time for my going to see Nellie.”

“Aw, come on, Calloway,” said Ted. “It would be a great mascot—the Brew Crew Bunny.”

Todd’s eyes were pleading with me. “I have no idea how to take care of a rabbit.”

“Neither do I,” I said.

“It can’t be that much different from taking care of Angus, can it?” Todd asked.

“They’re two different
species
,” I said.

“We can talk about Clover in a minute,” said Ted. “Tell us what of value—if anything—you managed to glean from Nellie.”

“When I went in, I took her a pie from MacKenzies’ Mochas and told her how sorry I was about Clara,” said Todd. “Then I asked what happened. She said she didn’t know . . . that she’d gone out to get them something to eat and that when she got back—” He glanced at me.

“Go on,” I said. “I can take it. What would surprise me would be if she’d said anything
nice
about me—like the fact that I was trying to help.”

He swallowed and looked down at the floor. “She said that nasty Marcy Singer was there, of course, looming over the body and that she just knew the woman had killed her sister.”

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” I said. “I already knew she’d try to pin the blame for Clara’s death on me.” I shook my head. “I really did try to help Clara. I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know whether she’d had a stroke or a heart attack and had fallen over in her chair or what. I was afraid to attempt to move her, so I called Ted.”

“And I immediately called nine-one-one,” Ted said. “You did everything you could possibly do, babe.”

“Did she say anything about Ted?” I asked. “She told Manu that she saw him arguing with Clara, and that’s why Manu took him off the case.”

Todd looked at Ted. “Were you arguing with her?”

“I wouldn’t call it
arguing
,” said Ted. “I went by her booth, complimented her on her knitting—even though I was really comparing her to Madame Defarge, the evil knitter from
A Tale of Two Cities
, in my mind—and I encouraged her to have fun at the festival, to be gracious even to the customers who would try her patience . . . and I said I hoped she and Marcy got to know each other better during their time at the festival.”

“I bet
that
went over well,” I said.

“Yeah.” Ted nodded. “That’s when she started yelling at me and telling me that Marcy had been a detriment to this town ever since she arrived, that Nellie was a saint, yadda, yadda, yadda. So, basically, I didn’t argue. Clara did.”

“That was it? Manu took you off the case because of that?” I asked.

“No, Manu took me off the case because Nellie made a stink over it,” he said. “She cited conflict of interest and a bunch of other junk. It really doesn’t bother me. I just want to get to the bottom of this so everybody can move on.”

“Me, too,” I said with a sigh.

“For what it’s worth, I did ask her if she honestly thought you’d hurt her sister,” Todd said.

“What did she say?” I asked.

He looked at the floor again. “She said,
I’d hate to think so . . . but you’ve got to admit, a lot of people have come to harm since that girl has been in Tallulah Falls
.” He raised his eyes. “Not that these people wouldn’t have wound up hurt anyway.”

“Yeah, well, a few months ago she actually
entertained the thought that an exorcist should come in and . . . I don’t know . . . do whatever exorcists do . . . to the Seven-Year Stitch,” I said. “I think she’s a nut, but I agree with Ted. The sooner we find Clara’s killer, the better.”

“She didn’t let on to you that Clara had any other enemies?” Ted asked. “She didn’t say anything about Clara being upset or arguing with anyone else?”

“Not to me,” Todd said. “I’m sorry. I’ll keep my ear to the ground, and if I hear anything, I’ll let you guys know.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“About Clover . . .” Todd cleared his throat. “You guys don’t know anyone who might want him . . . or her . . . do you?”

Ted smiled. “I believe I do.”

T
ed and I had invited Todd to stay for dinner, but after Ted said he knew of someone who might be willing to take Clover off his hands, he made a beeline for the Brew Crew. Not even the smell of a scrumptious pan of lasagna baking in the oven could tempt him to hang around.

With our tummies full and our moods uplifted—and me with a bunny on my lap while Ted drove the Jeep—Ted, Angus, Clover, and I headed off to see the wizard. Okay, she wasn’t the wizard, but she might as well be given the fact that she was the
great and powerful
Veronica . . . Ted’s mom. The first time I met the woman, she basically put a federal agent in time-out. I could hardly believe
she
was the person Ted thought would want Clover.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Ted for the umpteenth time.

“I’m
positive
. I can’t guarantee that Mother will take him . . . her?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “I’ve been calling the
bunny a her because Clara did. I guess she’d know.”

“Anyway, I can’t promise you anything, but I think Mother is our best bet,” he said.

“For a pet.”

Ted laughed. “My mother doesn’t cook, if that’s what you’re getting at. The condo staff takes care of all her meals.”

When Ted had first told me that his mom lived in an “upscale condo,” I didn’t dream it was upscale enough to have a
staff
. And then he took me to this upscale condo, and the place looked like a resort hotel. It even had a doorman. His name was Bill. I quickly learned that the emphasis was on ease at this facility. Residents had chefs, maids, hairstylists, manicurists, and a nursing staff at their disposal. Of course, they were free to utilize these services or not, but the perks were part of the complete package. Mama Nash was living large! I thought everybody should be so lucky!

“Do they allow pets at your mom’s condo?” I asked.

“Yes, if they’re small and house-trained.” He glanced over at me. “Don’t worry.”

“I can’t help it! You didn’t even call ahead to let her know we’re coming.”

“Trust me,” he said. “It’s better that way.”

“But what if she isn’t there?”

“Stop worrying.”

I cupped my hands over Clover’s long ears, though it appeared the little creature was asleep and not listening anyway. “You know, springing a
bouquet on someone is one thing . . . but a bunny is something else entirely.”

“Of course it is. Bunnies have a much longer shelf life than flowers.”

“I certainly hope so.”

And then we were pulling into the drive.

Parking.

Getting out of the Jeep.

We were probably looking as goofy as could be. Ted was leading Angus, and I was carrying Clover. And we were heading into the lobby to call Veronica to let her know we were there.

Bill, the doorman, was probably calling security.

Or maybe not.

He stepped out onto the sidewalk to greet us. “Well, what a fine crew of furry beasties you have with you this evening! Please allow me to call your mother for you, Mr. Nash. It appears everyone’s hands are full.”

“Thank you, Bill,” said Ted. “If you don’t mind, ask her to meet us in the garden.”

“Will do,” said Bill.

“Oh, and the furry beasties are a surprise,” I said quickly before Bill could go back inside.

Bill smiled, nodded, and went to make the call.

Ted strode toward a walkway that led from the front of the facility to the back. Round stepping-stones took us to a garden that was even more breathtaking than I could have imagined. White Adirondack chairs, benches, and swings flanked on each side by trellises provided plenty of
seating for the residents. Flower beds were separated from the well-manicured lawn by landscaping timbers and contained torch lilies, blue-violet hydrangeas, and chrysanthemums in yellow, white, pink, and orange. Lovely evergreen shrubs with clusters of white flowers, weeping Japanese maples, and heather added more color and beauty.

“Clover would love it here,” I said, my voice hushed with reverence. “
I
love it here.”

Ted smiled, put his hand at the small of my back, and led me over to a bench. Angus, of course, wanted to sniff all these wonderful things, most of which he’d never seen. Ted took him for a stroll around the garden while I sat on the bench with Clover. I was afraid to put the bunny down. What if she ran off into the shrubbery and wouldn’t come back?

We had been waiting only a couple of minutes when Veronica emerged. She wore jeans, a lightweight red sweater, and tan peep-toe wedge sandals. Her light gray hair was cut in an angular bob that framed her face, especially offsetting those brilliant blue eyes that were so much like Ted’s.

“Hello,” she said, walking over to the bench toward Clover and me. “What have we here?”

“Hi, Mother,” said Ted. He and Angus joined us.

“Good evening, Veronica,” I said.

She sat beside me. “Have you added a bunny to your brood?”

“Not exactly,” I said. “Clover here belonged to a woman who . . . passed away.”

“We’re trying to find the poor little thing a home,” Ted said. “We hoped you might know of someone who’s looking for a pet.”

“May I?” She held out her hands, and I gave her the bunny. She cradled the brown and white rabbit on her shoulder, carefully supporting its feet with one hand.

“Is Clover house-trained?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said. “There was a litter box included among her belongings.”

“That’s good.” She held the bunny out from her and looked into her face. “Are you a good girl?”

Clover twitched her little pink nose. I, personally, took that as a yes.

“And you say that Clover’s owner died?” Veronica asked, returning the bunny to her shoulder.

“Actually, she was murdered,” said Ted.

“Given your line of work, I didn’t think she’d gone peacefully,” said Veronica. “I worry about you.” She silently petted Clover for a moment before continuing. “Who was she?”

Ted gave her a quick rundown of the entire situation, including the fact that Nellie Davis had pushed Manu into taking Ted off the case.

“That’s silly,” Veronica said. “It seems to me this woman is trying to use a personal vendetta to pass blame for her sister’s death.” She gazed up at the darkening sky. “You say this Nellie was seen arguing with her sister before she left for food?”

“I’m not sure anyone officially made that statement, but we understand that to be the case,” said Ted.

Veronica frowned at her son. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t kill the sister herself, leave to deflect blame, and then decide she had a wonderful scapegoat when Marcy found the body.”

“At this point everyone’s a suspect,” Ted said.

I was sure that both his mother and I had known that line was coming.

“Including, so it seems, the two of you.” Veronica bent and set Clover on the grass.

“Aren’t you afraid she’ll run off?” I asked.

“If she does, you and Ted will catch her.” She smiled.

Angus immediately went to his new buddy and licked the bunny’s head. He then lay down, and Clover nestled between his large paws.

“They’re sweet together,” said Veronica. “Are you sure you don’t want to keep her?”

“I really can’t,” I said. “I know nothing about rabbits.”

“They aren’t hard to care for. Ted and Tiffany had a couple at one point in their childhood.” She shrugged one shoulder. “I suppose many children do at some time or another.”

“She’d be good company for you, Mother,” said Ted.

She rolled her eyes at him. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist. That’s why you brought her here.”

He grinned. “Would I do something like that?”

“Yes. You would.” Her face softened. “I suppose you brought her things with you?”

“Of course. They’re in the Jeep. Want me to go get them?” he asked.

“Please.” She huffed in mock exasperation. “Have Bill help you.”

Ted handed me Angus’s leash before trotting off to unload the Jeep.

“I was surprised when Ted told me he thought you’d want her,” I said.

Veronica arched a brow. “I don’t strike you as the warm and fuzzy type?”

Well, no, she didn’t, but I couldn’t admit that. Instead, I said, “I just didn’t think you’d want the responsibility of caring for a pet. It can be hard sometimes.”

“I know it can. Ted and his sister had lots of pets growing up, and it always fell to me to care for them,” she said. “I haven’t had a pet in years. I think it will be a nice change of pace.”

“I’m glad. She seems awfully sweet.”

“Yes, she does,” said Veronica. “About that other matter . . . If I were you, I’d simply enjoy the Renaissance festival without being flanked on either side by two sisters who despise me . . . God rest the one woman’s soul.”

“Clara,” I said.

“Whatever. She seems to have been a horrible person, she’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about that. Life is for the living . . . so enjoy the Faire.” Veronica steepled her fingers. “If the sister returns to manage her booth—though I doubt she will because that would be wretchedly crass—then simply ignore her. Certainly don’t engage in any sort of conversation with her. She’ll only hurl accusations and insults.”

“Okay,” I said. “Although I keep thinking that if I could talk with her, I could find out more about who Clara saw that day, what was going on in her life, who might want to kill her.”

“That’s not your duty,” said Veronica. “That obligation rests solely on the shoulders of Manu Singh . . . especially since his head detective is off the case.”

Ted returned to the garden. “Bill and I got everything into your condo. I figured you’d want to take a look at it and arrange it however you’d like.”

“Of course. Thank you, darling.”

“It looked as if I was interrupting a serious conversation,” Ted said.

“We were talking about Nellie,” I said. “Your mom doesn’t feel I should try to communicate with her.”

“It’s obvious the woman resents Marcy and wouldn’t believe that she truly wanted to help her find her sister’s killer . . . if indeed she didn’t strangle Clara herself,” said Veronica. “Trying to talk with this Nellie would be like trying to hug a skunk—painful, beneficial to no one, and with lingering consequences. I’d leave it alone.”

“That’s a valid point,” said Ted. “Manu has already been interviewing her, anyway. He’s an excellent interrogator, and he’ll find out whatever she knows.”

“I know,” I said. “You’re both exactly right. I’ll avoid Nellie like the plague . . . or a skunk.”

“Good.” Veronica turned to Ted. “As for you, I
believe you should leave this case entirely up to Chief Singh.”

“Mother, I’m the best detective on the force.”

“I know that,” she said. “But you are not on this case, and it would be counterproductive to pursue it. I’m sure you have other cases.”

“I do, but—”

“I’m only expressing an opinion,” said Veronica. “This Nellie sounds like a beast to me. Both of you would do well to steer clear of her since she’s trying to implicate you in her sister’s death. Remember your Miranda rights—anything you say can and will be used against you. She will surely twist everything around to make you appear guilty.”

“She has a point,” I said to Ted.

“Besides, if Nellie didn’t kill her sister, then whoever did might have designs on murdering her next,” said Veronica. “Until you find the motive, you can’t narrow down your field of suspects. And if Nellie winds up dead, neither of you wants to be the one finding her body.”

“Were you ever a detective yourself?” I asked Veronica.

She laughed. “No. I simply read a lot . . . and I try to keep informed about my son’s line of work.”

“We should get going,” Ted said. “Marcy has an early start tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you for taking Clover,” I said. “If it doesn’t work out, please let us know and we’ll find her another home.”

“All right.” Veronica stood. “Come, Clover.”

The bunny got up and hopped over to Veronica’s feet. She bent and picked it up.

“Good night.” She looked down at Angus. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring your friend to visit you soon.”

Ted was quiet on the drive back home.

“You’re thinking about what your mom said, aren’t you?” I asked.

He nodded. “She’s right, you know. You should absolutely stay away from Nellie. You won’t get any useful information from her; and if someone has a grudge against both sisters, you could be putting yourself in danger.”

“And you?”

“I won’t approach Nellie, either,” he said. “Manu is getting all the information we need from her. But I won’t stop investigating this case on my own until Clara’s killer has been caught.”