High Strung: A Glass Bead Mystery (The Glass Bead Mystery Series) (13 page)

Back in
the Ladybug, I sat staring out at the rain, big drops plopping on my windshield and skidding down the glass. Good thing I’d remembered to put the convertible’s top up.

All Rosie re
membered from last night was that I was there. And Tracy, too. I knew I hadn’t tried to kill Rosie, but I couldn’t be sure about Tracy. It was hard to believe such a sweet young woman would try to harm her own mother, but Tracy’s spirit seemed crushed by Rosie’s domineering behavior. Could Tracy have snapped and decided to kill her overbearing mother? When I arrived on the balcony last night I’d found Tracy standing over Rosie. It looked as if she was trying to help her mom, but she just as easily could have been the one who pushed her. Tracy seemed the most likely candidate to kill her mother—she was there at the right time, and she had a reason to commit the crime.

Did Tracy also have a reason to kill Misty? Tracy
didn’t know Misty, as far as I could tell, so I couldn’t think why Tracy would want to kill her. If Tracy killed Misty because her mother had told her to, then I suppose she had a motive. She was at home in the apartment all night, giving her the opportunity. The only thing that didn’t make sense was how the same person could commit both of these crimes. If Tracy were angry enough with her mother she tried to kill her, then why would she be willing to kill Misty on her mother’s behalf? That didn’t make sense to me. But murderers were not always the most sensible people. If they were, then I suppose fewer people would end up dead.

There were too many questions, and I needed some answers. I called Tessa.

“Tessa, we’ve got to talk.”

“
Where are you?”

“
Sitting in my car in the hospital parking lot.”

“
Well, you better get over to Aztec Beads right away.”

I wondered what the newest crisis was.

“Dylan’s jewelry workshop starts in ten minutes.”

“
Oh no, I’ve got to be there to support him.”

I drove as fast as I could to the shop
, and arrived as Dylan was setting up.

“
Hey, Jax. How’s it goin’?” said Dylan, in his usual casual tone.

“
Great,” I lied. “I wanted to make it back in time for your presentation.” That part was true.

“
Cool. Well, I’m just about to start. I’ve got these beads that I made. I’m gonna show how to braid these leather strips to make a bracelet. I hope the bead ladies don’t think it’s too rustic or manly.”

“
Nonsense,” said Tessa, joining us at the front of the classroom. “Rustic is in fashion right now, and besides, we like to be able to make things for the men in our lives now and then.” I knew she was fibbing. First, the little Tessa knew about fashion she learned from the Lands’ End catalog and from watching
Project Runway
. Neither of those sources gave her any authority to judge what was fashionable. And, the only two guys I knew she gave gifts to were her husband Craig, who didn’t like anything beady, and her son Joey, who liked beads, but mostly to throw instead of rocks.

I noticed one of the leather strips Dylan was using for class had fallen on the floor. As I reached to
pick it up, Tito snapped it up and dragged it away. I followed, and found him hiding under a chair in the classroom chewing on his prize. I decided there was plenty of leather to go around, and let Tito keep that piece.

Dylan got started showing the class what to do, and as I watched his demo, all I could think of was that Misty died
by being choked with a strap—like the piece of leather Dylan was using in his demo. Why would Dylan want to kill Misty? And if he killed Misty, was there a reason to suspect he would also have tried to kill Rosie? Dylan had met Rosie at the party when I’d introduced them. I remembered they acted strangely when they saw each other. Then again, neither of seemed to be coping well with the crowded party scene. I couldn’t be certain I’d seen anything strange at all.

After Dylan
’s class, he stood next to his display, speaking with some of the people who were gathering the supplies they needed to complete the bracelet project. Dylan did a great job of talking about his beads and how he made them. There were several bead ladies standing around him, holding his beads.

“Oh, Dylan, what about this
one? It’s so light. Is it hollow?” asked a plump woman trying to get his attention, her chandelier-style earrings hanging so low they skimmed her shoulders as she pressed in close to the display.

Another
woman, who was wearing a giant dragon necklace made entirely of tiny seed beads, elbowed her way in front of the plump woman, “Dylan, ohhh, do you have any more of these? I love the swirls.”

Yet another woman, this one wearing so many bracelets it was a wonder she could move her arms at all,
squeezed in close. “Do you think you could make me a matching set like this, but in purple?”

Dylan was experiencing his first bead-buyers
’ feeding frenzy. A half-dozen women were attempting to nab the best beads before their friends could, all of them trying to get his attention. Dylan, standing a full head taller than the rest of the crowd, was having trouble figuring out which woman he should help first.

“
Uh, yes, it’s hollow. And, uh, I have one more like that one with the swirls around here somewhere. And, yes, I could make some more like that in purple.”

This led to anot
her frenzy of activity in which the bead ladies, all realizing he could do custom orders, started shouting out what they’d like him to make for them. He recommended which beads would be good for various projects, and was quite a salesman. Finally the frenzy died down. In the course of an hour, he sold out of his entire stock of beads, and took orders for more. He seemed delighted with his success.

As Dylan was getting ready to go, Tracy came downstairs and into the gallery. She saw Dylan and stopped in her tracks. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Tracy turned and ran back up the stairs. Dylan
returned to his work and said nothing, his head bowed, and a grim look on his face. This time I knew I was seeing more than just an awkward moment, as I’d seen with Dylan and Rosie. This was full-fledged recognition, in which both parties seemed distressed. I was certain of that.

“
Dylan, what just happened there?” I asked.

“
I tried to tell you at the party, Jax, but I just never had the right moment. And then Rosie got hurt, and I didn’t see you again until now.”

I stood there, hands o
n my hips, looking at him silently. Waiting to hear what he had to say.

“
Tracy was my girlfriend. I loved her very much. She moved away, and I never heard from her again. The end.” Dylan tried to shrug it off, but he was doing a terrible job of convincing me he didn’t care.

“
Geez! Dylan,” I said, ready to scream at him. Actually, I may have been screaming at him. “When was this?”

“
About five years ago, when we graduated from high school. We’d been together for a couple of years. She was the love of my life, ya know? Then Rosie dragged her away to Spokane so Tracy could go to college. I’d email her and call her, but she’d never respond. I figured she’d found some new college guy, and didn’t want me anymore.”

“
And Rosie, what did she think of seeing you in her shop?”

“
When I saw her at the party, I don’t think she recognized me. I thought she looked familiar, and then when you said her name, I figured it out. When Tracy and I were together, I really didn’t go over to their house. I was never sure if that was because Tracy was scared of her mother and didn’t want to upset her by bringing me home, or if she didn’t want her mom to scare me away.”

“
But you must have known they had moved back. How could you have
not
known?”

“
Look, I lost track of them. Tracy didn’t want to be in touch. I had given up and moved on. I’d seen the new bead store, but the application for the show went to that JOWL lady, so I never really needed to come in here, you know? The first time I was here was at the party,” said Dylan.

I was taking this all in.
“Wow, Dylan.” All I could say was, “Wow.” I certainly didn’t see this coming. So far this weekend had been filled with one shock after another.

“
Just now, that was the first time I’ve seen Tracy since we graduated from high school.
”
He reached up and scratched the edge of one of his green eyes. It might have been a tear.

“
It didn’t seem like she was happy to see you.”

“
No, not at all,” he said, sounding heartbroken.

“
Oh, Dylan, I’m sorry. You must have been devastated. What happened after she left?”

“
I spent a lot time trying to forget her, trying to feel no pain. In not good ways, you know? It got so bad my parents threw me out. I thought I had gotten over her back then, but I guess not.”

And with that, Dylan finished filli
ng his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and slid out the door.

I found
Tessa sitting on the back patio, talking with The Twins.

“
Excuse me, Tessa, we need to go and take care of that thing.” I was trying to be discreet, to get her away from Sara and Lara without spilling the shocking news I’d just received from Dylan.

“
Thing? What thing?”

Gah! Tessa, work with me here.

“You know, that important thing we talked about earlier,” I said, reaching over and subtly pinching her on the back of the neck.

“
Ow! Oh, right, I almost forgot,” said Tessa, unconvincingly.

We headed out the gate and down the alley, now cleared of the crime
-scene tape. A brand new dumpster had replaced the one where I had found Misty. All traces of her murder had been erased, except from my memory. We walked to Starbucks and as we did, we filled each other in on what we’d found out.

Tessa went first.
“I had a long talk with Sara and Lara. Those two told me how much they hated Rosie.”

“
Did they say why?” I asked.

“
Something about her not respecting their work.”

“Y
es, that sounds like something they’d say,” I said.

“
But really, they don’t like anyone, so I don’t think they singled out Rosie,” concluded Tessa.

“
But Tessa, listen to this.” I told her what I had just witnessed with Dylan and Tracy.

“
You have got to be kidding me.” We stopped in the alley. Tessa was stunned, and it didn’t seem like she could walk and think at the same time. I pulled her along. I was on a mission: coffee.

“Tessa,
can you go back and talk with Tracy about the Dylan situation?”

“
Me? What about you?”

“
Well, Tracy is unhappy with me right now. She kind of caught me on her balcony, snooping around.”

“
What?”

“Y
ou see, I was out in the backyard and I saw this piece of beading wire on the underside of the balcony, and I went up to check it out. You know, looking for clues to help my best friend not get arrested for murder.”

“
Good!”

“
But while I was there, Tracy came home and caught me. She thought I was returning to the scene of the crime.”

“
Bad!”

“
So that’s when I went to the hospital to see Rosie.”

“
Good!”

“
Except Rosie thinks I strangled her. I know. You don’t have to say it. ‘Bad!’”

“
Doesn’t Tracy think
I
tried to kill her mom?” Tessa asked. “It seems like that’s what she told Detective Grant.”

“
I’m not sure what Tracy is thinking now, especially having just seen Dylan. Can you please talk with her?” I gave Tessa my most pathetic, pleading grimace.

“
Okay, but you owe me one.”

By now, we
’d gotten to the coffee shop, and I’d ordered a grande latte for me, and a shot of espresso for Tessa. How that woman could survive on so little caffeine amazed me.

“
Notice I am buying your drink, Tessa.”

“
That’s not enough. When this whole thing is over, I want you to buy me several proper drinks. You know, the kind with alcohol in them.”

“
Absolutely, Tessa. I’ll have a few, too.”

We walked back to Aztec Beads in silence.
Tessa and I needed to put each of the facts together one by one, like beads on a strand. And we needed to find the bits that were missing so we could finish our project—a project we didn’t choose, but needed to complete.