Cropped to Death (Faith Hunter Scrap This Mystery) (21 page)

Sierra seated each of the women in the crop area and they chose a piece of cardstock for their background. “It’s time to get started.”

Wyatt and Wayne shuffled over to an unoccupied table. Two young women scrambled to their feet and planted themselves into the chairs beside the unattached men. Wyatt and Wayne exchanged petrified looks, but kept quiet. Gussie grinned, her gaze roamed to the wedding albums.

The bell jingled and a blast of cool air filled into the room. I could almost hear the eyelashes fluttering. Either Steve or Ted just walked in. I turned, smiling. The expression vanished when I saw Steve and Ted standing there, neither of them happy. Bobbi-Annie trailed in behind them. She avoided looking at me and made her way to a vacant seat far from her cousins.

“There’s a space here, Detective,” a perky redhead chirped. She patted the chair beside her.

“I came tonight for inspiration, not to crop. Sorry. Creative block today.” Roget tapped his forehead and walked over to the display boards and looked at the layouts. The women oohed and aahed in sympathy.

“Are you cropping tonight or gathering inspiration?” I smiled and waited for Steve’s response. And waited. The sustained smile strained my cheek muscles. I shifted my weight from foot-to-foot and hoped he answered soon. The class watched us with keen interest. 

“I need some help choosing my…” He snapped his fingers.

“Embellishments,” I said.

“Exactly.” He stepped aside and I led the way.

I headed for the back of the store and stood in front of the stickers, waiting for Steve’s explanation. We stood side by side with our backs facing the students. Steve crossed his arms and stared straight ahead. To make this shopping excursion halfway believable, we needed props. I grabbed a package of beach stickers and handed it over.

“Hank said you accused him of killing Michael.” Steve tapped the strip across his palm.

I was now thinking it, but didn’t accuse him. “I just wanted to know why he borrowed my car when his wasn’t broke, like he said. And why he wasn’t in a security uniform the day of the Art Benefit Show. Those are questions, not accusations. Someone should get the man a dictionary.”

Steve turned his head slightly, one eyebrow raised.

“Not that this is any of your business.”

“I’m a prosecutor for this town, so murders, and who’s accused of them, are my business.” Steve flicked the edge of a packet of gel stickers. “Others in the police department, and at the courthouse, are wondering why it’s a scrapbook store employee’s business.”

I drew in a breath. Okay, this wasn’t the type of gossip I wanted to be a part of. Well, actually no type of gossip really, but I’d rather have people wondering if I was hooking up with Steve or Ted.

“Hank has been hurt by rumors in the past. That’s why he’s had such a hard time finding and keeping work. He doesn’t need you starting anymore.”

“You think I’ve been spreading rumors about Hank? Got him fired?”

Steve believed Hank already. He wasn’t even letting me explain. I thought I could depend on him. Steve said I could depend on him. He lied. I trusted him. Never again.

Memories and emotions from the past attacked. Fear. Humiliation. Handcuffs cutting into my flesh. Adam entering a plea agreement. He’d give them information about a murdered German citizen if they forgave him for selling goods on the black market. He led me to the slaughter to save his own skin. If it wasn’t for that one person, that one MP, I’d be in prison instead of Adam for the murder he committed.

I panicked.  I pushed past Steve and fled down the hall. My breaths came in painful spurts. I needed to get outside. I barreled into the storage room. The curtains tangled around my body. I flailed my arms, fighting the entrapment of the fabric, but my frantic movements made it worse.

“Let me help you.” Steve placed his hands on my shoulder. I swatted the curtains along with Steve.

“Don’t touch me.” Tears flooded my eyes and the darkness became blurry.

“I’m trying to help,” Steve said, frustration growing in his voice. “Settle down before half the people in the store come over here.”

I stopped struggling. “Don’t boss me.”

“How about you let me handle this, Davis,” Ted said.

Just what I wanted, another witness to my humiliation. The tears pooling in my eyes rolled down my cheeks.

“I’ll take care of this, Roget.”

“Is that so? Cause I could’ve sworn I heard the lady say leave her alone.”

I remained quiet, tears dripping down my chin. If I said one word, the men would know I was crying. Crunching up some of the fabric, I brought it to my face and dried the tears from my cheeks, the velvet soft and comforting.

“Steve,” Cheryl called out. “Can you grab the box of scissors from the stock room?”

“Sure.” Steve’s body brushed mine as he maneuvered around me.

“You get into quite the predicaments don’t you, Faith?” Ted unwrapped me from the red drapes.

I blinked from the intrusive light.

Ted took a light, but firm, hold of my elbow. “Let’s go outside for a minute. Come on.”

The cold air struck my body and the sharp twang in the air zapped the heaviness in my limbs and my head. Why did Ted think I wanted his help as opposed to Steve’s? Matter-of-fact, Ted started this whole mess. I glared at him. I bounced from foot to foot, keeping my ire under control.

He grinned. “Now that’s the feisty woman I know.”

“Why did you come to the store?” I crossed my arms and schooled my features to portray an I-don’t-care attitude. “You said you weren’t cropping tonight.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “I wanted to check on you. I kind of lit into you and it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Gee, why the sudden change of heart?”

Ted looked down at the ground.

“You told your brother and he laid into you.”

“He said I’d never find a woman if I kept being police detective all the time.” Ted looked up and grinned. “I did tell him I was taking up a hobby.”

“Annoying me,” I said.

“Possibly.”

“Find a different one.”

“I hope to.” Ted’s voice lowered. He cleared his throat and tapped the handcuffs attached to his belt. “Do I need to use these on Davis?”

I gaped at him. “For what?”

The humor left Ted’s face. He brushed his fingertips across my cheek. “Whatever he did that scared you so much. I saw you running and he was chasing after you. “

“Nothing.”

“It didn’t look like nothing. You want me to have a talk with him?”

“He didn’t hurt me. Not like you think.”

Ted frowned, his fingers tightening around the cuffs.

“Memories. Something he said brought back things I don’t want to remember.” I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. “Do I really need to explain all of this to you? Steve hurt my feelings. That’s not an arrestable offense.”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep it all to yourself, they’d go away. Or at least not feel like you’re being tormented if they sneak up on you.”

My brain hurt. I rubbed my temples and leaned against the door. I didn’t want anyone’s advice about how I handled my past. It was mine to deal with, not anyone else’s and I’d been doing fine. If it wasn’t for Michael’s murder, I’d still be doing fine.

“I’m going home.” I tugged the door handle of my car. Locked. I shoved my hands into my jean pockets. The keys were in my purse. In the store.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Ted stood behind me and draped a jacket around me.

“I left my keys in the store.”

“I figured that out.” He kneaded my shoulders. “Steve doesn’t know about Adam.”

The mention of my once-upon-a-husband locked the breath into my throat. The cold intensified around me and I sat on the car hood to keep from falling over.

“Damn, what did that man do to you?” Ted caressed my cheeks then captured my hands in his, rubbing them back and forth. “You’re so cold.”

“I didn’t want anyone to find out about him. Ever.”

Ted buttoned his jacket around me. “Faith, when you started interfering—poking—helping with the Kane case, I had to check you out. Especially when I discovered you kept quiet about your time out of Eden.”

I wiggled my arms into the jacket sleeves, the fabric puddled around my hands. “I figured that might happen.”

“But you took the risk.”

“I couldn’t let Marilyn go to jail for a crime she didn’t commit. I know what that feels like. Even one day is too long.” I shuddered.

Ted sat on the hood and wrapped an arm around me. “Want to tell me what happened? The details I dug up were pretty slim.”

“Here’s the short story. I loved him. I thought he loved me, but all he wanted was an Eve defense.”

“An Eve defense?”

“You know, the woman made me do it.  When he got caught selling military goods on the black market, he tried getting out of it by pinning a murder on me. That’s when I realized he never loved me. He needed a fall guy. Fall girl. He was a respected captain. I was just some enlisted girl from a Podunk town in West Virginia. And it would’ve worked except one military police, a Specialist, actually listened to me.”

“Good man.”

“Woman,” I said. “But it didn’t matter. People still treated me like a criminal. A traitor. People believed the worst about me because they thought they knew him better.”

“That’s why you keep barreling into this case. One person believed in you.”

“Believed me and saved me. I want to do that for Marilyn.”

“What if you’re wrong, Faith? What then?”

I didn’t know the answer. I didn’t want to know. “Now I’m hurting people.” I laughed, a bitter sound. “I guess I’m like all those other people. All that matters is my truth.”

“You’re not like them. You’re trying to find the truth so Marilyn isn’t spending her life in jail if she is innocent. That isn’t heartless.” Ted smiled at me. “Annoying, but not heartless.”

“Doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“And that is the biggest difference between you and Adam. You feel pain over your actions because others were hurt.”

I remained still. I wanted Ted’s words to soothe me.

“Why didn’t you tell your grandmothers what happened?” Ted asked.

“Embarrassment. Shame. Tired of being judged for a lapse of judgment.  What he did followed me to my next duty station. Some people couldn’t trust me because they believed I had to have helped him. And others couldn’t trust a soldier who so easily fell for a con. My grandmothers gave up their lives to raise me after my parents died.”

“From what I’ve gathered you are your grandmothers’ life. The only reason I wouldn’t say anything to them is because they’d go after that guy.”

A smile fluttered on my lips.

“Taking on Cheryl seems like quite a task, but I have a feeling Hope is the one to really fear. It’s always the quiet, polite ones that will do a person in quick and swift.” He stood and held out his hands to me. “How about we go in there and get some contesting, cropping, whatever you call it, done?”

I took his offered help, sliding off the hood. I kept my hand in his as we headed for the door. “I think I should give you a warning.”

He paused and looked at me, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “Now what are you up to?”

“Me? Nothing.” I batted my eyelashes at him. “But those women in there came to find themselves a man.”

“It’s only one night of pasting pictures to a page. How bad can it be?”

I raised my eyebrows and grinned.

He reeled me into his arms, his gaze lingering on my mouth. “Can’t I just tell them that I already have my eye on a woman?”

“No.” I pulled away from him. “They’ll demand a refund. You are one of the bachelors they came to see.”

“Wonderful.” He growled and then a broad grin filled his face. “On the bright side, Davis must be ready to scream uncle.”

I shook my head. “My grandmothers are protecting him. They’ve already staked a claim on him.”

“Isn’t he kind of young for both of them?”

I rolled my eyes and dragged Ted into the store.

TWENTY-FIVE

Friday morning, I pulled into the back lot of Scrap This, feeling better about the fact Ted wasn’t planning to arrest me even though he knew about Adam. The secret no longer haunted me. It was nice knowing there was someone I could be open with. Not that it made me want to announce my annulled marriage and almost court-martial to the world, my grandmothers, or Steve.

Enough of the past. Today was all about the present. This afternoon the customers would vote on the layouts, and tomorrow morning, we’d announce the winners. I’d better hurry inside before Darlene beat the door down.

Plus, between the contest and the new singles mixer crop, our bank account was filling up like the fire hall on designer purse bingo day. Lots to be excited about.  I waved at my grandmothers who had parked beside me, then unlocked the door. Hallelujah, it opened on the first try.

I rushed over and whipped back the curtain. I screamed and dropped my purse. The contents scattered onto the floor.

“Faith!” My grandmothers’ cries carried from the parking lot.

Shredded layouts littered the linoleum, the once full boards now bare. Anger coursed through my veins. I wanted to hit something. Someone. Why would someone break into our store and destroy the precious work of our customers? I stepped farther into the room and examined the other damage.

“The police are on their way!” Cheryl shouted. “Faith, where are you!”

“They’re destroyed.” I knelt beside the ripped paper and photographs.

“What is— Cheryl gasped.

“Oh my goodness.” Hope gripped my shoulder.

In the crop area, near the large trimmer, more destroy layouts were strewn over the floor. Brads, shredded ribbon, and chipboard pieces mingled among the torn cardstock and pattern paper. Glossy pieces of photographs peeked out from the carnage.

Stunned, I turned around in a circle and examined the rest of the store. Nothing else was touched. Every item for purchase was in the proper place and neatly arranged.

“I’m calling Sierra,” Cheryl headed to the phone. “She closed up last night.”

“Grandma, I unlocked the back door.” Though it had been rather easy this morning. Maybe the lock hadn’t engaged all the way. I reached for the knob on the front door. “I’ll check this door.”

“Don’t touch it,” Hope said. “The police might be able to get fingerprints from it.”

Sirens filled the air, and barely two minutes later, Jasper and Ted entered into the store.

“Gee, Faith, who’d you go and make mad?” Jasper asked, a humorous lilt to his voice.

I buried my head in my hands.

“Be quiet, Jasper,” Roget said. “Did you see any sign of a break-in, Faith?”

“No.” I mumbled into my hands.

“Did anyone touch anything?” Roget asked, rubbing my back lightly.

I raised my head and looked at him. “I almost did.”

He offered a small smile. “Almost isn’t the same. You have an idea who could’ve done this?”

“No.” I moaned and rubbed my temples. “How are we going to explain this to our customers? We can’t have the contest without layouts. “

“Why don’t you sit while we look around?” Ted tried leading me behind the counter.

I shoved away from him. “I’m not a damsel in need of protection.”

“All of them were destroyed?” Jasper asked.

“I have one. It’s in my purse.” I pointed to where it laid by the back door.

Hope and Cheryl followed Jasper around as he looked for evidence.

“That’s one big purse.” Ted walked over and picked up the page protector. Another layout slid out. “Actually you have two in here. Why are they in your purse?”

Two? Was the other one Linda’s layout? I wanted to get a look at it before I mentioned it. No sense getting her hopes up. I explained Darlene’s concern and request.

“And you agreed to do that for her?”

“It was a simple thing to make her happy.”

“How important was winning this contest to her?” Ted handed me the layouts and snapped open his leather-encased notebook.

I shook my head and waved my free hand in a cutting motion. “Darlene wouldn’t do this. She couldn’t get into the store and leave undetected.”

“This contest sure did irritate someone,” Ted said. “I witnessed how upset she was about it, especially about people cheating.”

“I know. But I just can’t see her doing this. She wants to win fair and square, not by default.”

“I’ll stop by the Bennett’s house and see what their grandchildren were up to last night.”  Ted held up his hand to block my argument. “They probably didn’t do it, but considering what happened with the window, I need to check on it.”

“People are going to wonder why the city homicide detective is investigating vandalism.”

Ted shrugged as he stood. “I reckon they will. Some guesses will be more entertaining than others. I’ll stop back later.”

Customers and spectators lined the sidewalk trying to figure out why the police were at Scrap This. Again. I leaned against the locked front door. Cheryl took Hope home. Her pale complexion worried us. This latest stress of the destroyed contest—or rather our customers’ reaction to it—wore her out.