Loom and Doom (17 page)

Sheesh.
Yesterday's anonymous phone warning had left me more than just a bit shaky. Hopefully, I'd soon get over this giant case of the nerves. I got the bag of dog food from inside the pantry and then, looking around for a container, I opened and closed one kitchen drawer after another, until . . .
Hold on. What's this?
In the catchall drawer was a brown manila envelope addressed to Matthew. And after a lifetime of Christmas and birthday cards, I recognized the handwriting as his mother's. Could this be the “valuable” object she had sent him?

I opened it. Inside, was an antique sterling silver box—the kind used for engagement rings. I gasped. It couldn't be, I thought, my hands beginning to shake. I held it in the palm of my hand, staring at it, gathering my nerve. I opened it and gasped. I was looking at a beautiful diamond engagement ring. I knew this ring. I had seen it dozens of times on Matthew's grandmother's finger. During her life, she had often mentioned that it should go to the first of her grandsons to get married. I'd always expected Matthew's older brother to get it. But here it was now.

My mind scrambled to make sense of this. Could it mean that . . . No. It couldn't be. Or could it? Our romance had grown over the last few months, but he hadn't—as my mother called it—used the “L” word yet. I took the ring out and slid it on the third finger of my left hand. It was a perfect fit. It suddenly hit me that if Jenny was here, she'd tell me that trying on an engagement ring was sure to be bad luck. I tore it off, placed it back in the box and stuffed it in the envelope.

I went through the rest of the drawers until I found an appropriate bag, filled it, and returned to my apartment in a daze. There, I filled his bowl. “What do you think, Winston? Is he getting ready to propose?”

Winston threw me a get-real look and returned to his food.

•   •   •

At eight o'clock, I'd already been at my loom, weaving, for a couple of hours when Jenny tapped on my door. I dropped my shuttle and dashed over.

“Guess what,” I said. “I just found an engagement ring at Matthew's.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean . . .”

I threw my hands up in the air. “That's just it. I don't know
what
it means. All I know is he was expecting a package from his mother, and—” All at once it came to me, and I let out a long sigh. “False alarm,” I said. “He had no idea what was in the package.” I was so disappointed, I could have cried.

“You never know. Maybe he said that to make sure you didn't know,” Jenny said. “Tell you what. I'll go turn on the coffee, and as soon as Margaret shows up, I'll come over with my tarot cards. If there's a marriage proposal in the near future, I'll see it.”

Normally I would have scoffed at her offer. But this time I jumped at it. I wanted very much to be told Matthew was about to propose. After she left, the five minutes until she returned felt like hours.

“I'm back,” she called out, setting a tray on my front counter. “I brought you coffee and something to eat.” Next to the mug was a plate of muffins. “I don't have time to do a full reading, so I'll just give you the abbreviated version. Now pick up the deck and shuffle,” she said.

I did as ordered, cutting the deck twice, while asking my secret question, and then handed it back to her. She spread out ten cards in the shape of a cross.

“Now pick one card from each position in the spread.” I tapped those I chose. She turned them facing up and studied them. “Hmm. Interesting,” she said.

“I hate when doctors do that. I always think I'm going to die.”

“Well, you're not going to die, but somebody will come very close to death.”

“Is it a woman? A relative?”

“A woman, yes, but she looks like an acquaintance.” I thought of Johanna and wondered if it could be her. I knew nobody else who might be ill.

Jenny put that card aside and moved on. “And as far as your fortune, or business, things look excellent.”

“Must be my new collection,” I said. “It's been selling well.”

She picked the third card. “Uh-oh. I see danger. It is lurking around you and you should be very careful. Somebody wishes you harm.”

“Can you tell me who?”

“Sorry. It doesn't work that way.” She studied the fourth card. “Somebody in your family is going to surprise you. And it will be a happy surprise.”

“The only family I have is my mother,” I said. “And if she wants to make me happy, she'll find herself a gentleman friend, so she can concentrate on her own life instead of mine.”

Jenny laughed. “Now for your secret question.” She picked the card from the center of the cross and turned it over. “Ah. The lovers,” she said. “That's good—very good.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means you're in a happy and healthy relationship and it looks like smooth sailing in the future.”

“What about marriage?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. But I don't see it.” She continued. “But it's all good. Your mother, your business and your love life.”

“How can you say it's all good when somebody I know will get sick, and somebody wishes me harm?”

“I didn't see death, so the person will recover. And you keep living, so whatever happens to them, you'll survive.”

“Gee, great. Just what I've always wanted—to survive.”

“Come on,” she said, putting away her cards. “Cheer up. Matthew is crazy about you. Just give him time. Everything comes to those who wait.”

“Before you go,” I said. “I forgot to tell you. I had an anonymous phone call last night.”

“A heavy breather?”

I shook my head. “No. Somebody wants me to lay off investigating the murders—or else.”

Her eyes filled with worry. “That's probably what I saw in the cards—the ‘somebody' who wishes you harm. But as I said, you go on living, so they won't succeed,” she said, already opening the door.

“By the way, I'm driving into Charlotte this afternoon. I have an appointment with Sondra Swanson. So if there's anything I can pick up for you while I'm there . . .”

“Sondra Swanson? As in Howard Swanson's ex-wife? Why in the world are you going to meet her?” Just as she asked this, I looked up to find Lori Stanton marching in looking like an approaching storm.

Jenny stepped forward. “How can I help you?” she asked.

“Which one of you is Della?” she demanded.

Jenny turned to me and the woman's gaze followed hers. She marched over. “Where do you get off telling the police that my sister killed Syd?”

“I never—”

She took another step toward me, jabbing the air with an angry finger. “Did you for one moment think about her feelings? She just lost the man she loves. And, if that's not bad enough, some nosy parker like you has to go poke her nose where she has no business. As a result, the police go over asking a million questions, upsetting her all over again.”

I was shocked, not so much about what she was saying, but I couldn't imagine how Mona could have known that I'd shared my suspicions with the police. Maybe she'd noticed when I touched the hood of her car and instinctively knew that since I'd found Syd's body only minutes later, I'd naturally share the information with the police.

She wasn't through. “Just so you know, my sister would not even hurt a fly, let alone kill anyone. So, why don't you do everyone a favor and butt out? If you so much as mention my sister's name again, I swear I'll come over and . . . and . . .” Was she threatening to kill me? Just as suddenly as she'd barged in, she turned on her heel and marched out.

I was too stunned to speak. Jenny found her tongue first.

“Wow,” she said, “that was some showdown. I guess that gives us a pretty good idea of who wishes you harm.”

“Oh, crap,” I muttered. Now, Mona's sister would know I was meeting with Swanson's ex-wife. If she suspected that I was planning to ask Sondra about her, she'd be mad as hell.

“H
ow'd you sleep?” Marnie asked the minute she walked in. “I don't know about you, but I couldn't sleep a wink all night, and I wasn't even the one who got that call.”

“I didn't either. I've been up since five. And then I got a nasty surprise. Lori Stanton showed up and gave me an earful. Somehow, she blames me for the police investigating her sister.”

“What? When did this happen?”

“Half an hour ago. She just stormed in here, made her speech and then left. It was over in a minute—thank God.”

“Well, I spent the entire night baking. I made scones, and they're delicious. So, have one. Maybe it'll make you feel better.” She set a small bag on the counter. “I dropped them off at Jenny's but kept a couple for us.”

“I already had a cranberry-orange muffin,” I said, eyeing the blueberry scones as she opened the bag. “But, that was a while ago.” Marnie wrapped one in a paper napkin and handed it to me. “Oh, my, this is so good,” I said, having a bite. I allowed myself a second one and put it aside. “You won't believe what else happened.”

She made the sign of the cross. “Please don't tell me somebody else died.”

“No, nothing like that.” I told her about finding Matthew's grandmother's diamond ring in his house.

“Oh. Thank God.” And then she planted her hands on her hips. “What were you doing? Snooping?”

“I was not. I was out of kibble for Winston, and went to get some so he could have breakfast. Matthew had okayed it.” As if he knew we were talking about him, Winston jumped to his feet and looked at us. Then he plopped back down and went back to sleep.

Marnie gave me the eyebrow. “That's a likely excuse.”

“It happens to be the truth. Besides, what's going on here? You're
my
friend. You're supposed to jump up and down and tell me you think he's about to propose.”

“Is that what you want?” She did a sorry imitation of jumping, her toes never leaving the floor. “Oh, this is so exciting. I think he's going to ask you to marry him,” she said in high chirpy voice.

I rolled my eyes. “You're spoiling all my fun,” I said. “Anyhow, Jenny read my cards—” At this, Marnie's mouth dropped open.

“You're kidding. Jenny read the cards for
you
? And you
let
her?”

I shrugged. “It's not as if it means anything. It was all just in good fun.”

“Goodness. You are full of news today. What did the cards say?”

“Not a whole heck of a lot. My business will continue to do well. My mother will surprise me. An acquaintance will be very ill, but will survive. And somebody wishes me harm but won't kill me.” I opened my hands. “There, you've got it in a nutshell.”

“We already knew somebody wishes you harm. That was the threatening phone call last night.” Her eyes widened. “You know who it might have been? Lori Stanton. If she thought you gave the police information about her sister, she well might have picked up the phone and threatened you.”

“Or Mona. It could also have been her. Whether it's Lori or Mona, I might be in even deeper doo-doo now. Lori Stanton happened to walk in at the exact moment I was telling Jenny that I was driving to Charlotte this afternoon to see Swanson's ex-wife. How much do you want to bet she got on the phone to her sister the minute she got home?”

“Uh-oh.”

“There's nothing I can do about it now, except maybe keep Winston with me as much as possible and hope he looks scary enough to ward off any wannabe murderers.”

“I wouldn't count on it.”

The bell above the door went into a tizzy and I looked up to see Jenny walking in, carrying two mugs of coffee. “I figured you'd be having scones and that you might like another coffee.”

“Yes, please,” I said.

“I'll have one too,” Marnie said.

“At what time are you planning to drive to Charlotte?” Jenny asked.

“I'd like to leave before one o'clock. I called Mercedes to come in and help.”

“If you don't have a chance to have lunch before you leave, I can make you a sandwich to eat on the road.”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

“Don't mention it,” Jenny said, already on her way out.

Marnie turned to me. “I just had a thought. Whoever made that anonymous call to you last night has to be the killer. Aren't you afraid that if it's Mona, and she hears you're going to talk to Sondra, she might come after you?”

“It occurred to me.”

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Promise me you won't say a word of this to Matthew.” I waited for her nod and continued. “There's nothing I can do except continue with my investigation. I have a feeling I'm getting close.”

•   •   •

At ten o'clock, Marnie and I came up front from the studio to open and found Judy Bates standing at the door.

“This is a first,” I said, as she walked in. “We've never had anyone waiting at the door for us to open before.”

She laughed. “It's just that I'm in a bit of a rush. The photographer called and he's coming over to take those shots this morning instead of this afternoon. I was hoping Marnie might have finished a few of the place mats.” She looked at her pleadingly.

“As a matter of fact I have. But only two,” Marnie said.

“That's fine. I don't need all four. I'll set up the breakfast bar for two and it will look gorgeous.” Marnie went to get them and placed them on the counter for her to examine. “They are perfect,” she said, running her fingers over the weave. “Absolutely perfect.”

I wrapped and bagged them. Before leaving, Judy picked up one of my business cards. “I'll give it to the reporter to make sure she gets your name and address right.” Turning to leave, she almost collided with another customer coming in. It was Susan Price, who gave her a tight smile. Judy brushed by without so much as a hello.

“Good morning,” I said. “How can I help you?”

“I noticed your window display,” she said. “It's gorgeous.”

“Thank you. We've been getting a lot of compliments for it. I have a few items from the collection on the rocker in the corner.” Susan went over and picked up one of the decorator cushions.

“I love this.” She stopped, her smile disappearing into a sullen expression. “Please tell me my neighbor didn't just buy pieces from this group.”

“If you mean Judy, I'm afraid she did.”

She dropped the cushion. “Just my luck.” She sighed. “Oh, well. The colors weren't right anyhow.”

“What are your colors?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I have a pretty blank slate at the moment. The space is open. My kitchen is white with white marble counters and backsplashes. The floors are all sun-bleached oak. My sofas are slipcovered in white linen, and the dining room table, coffee tables and buffet are all light acacia—a sort of light sandy color.”

“It sounds gorgeous.”

“I was always more of a beach type than a mountain type, so this is my husband's way of compromising. I don't have the beach, but I've got the beach decor.” She chuckled, her mood lightening.

“What about your walls?”

“They are the color of the ocean. I guess you could call it French blue.”

I pictured it in my mind and, in a flash, knew just what she needed. “You know what would look amazing in your decor? Blue-and-white Chinese porcelain—you know, garden stools, temple jars, that sort of thing.”

He eyes lit up with excitement. “You're right. Why didn't I think of that?” She looked around. “But I don't see anything like that here.”

“I have an idea,” Marnie said. “Why don't I weave you a couple of samples in those colors—no charge—and if you like the way it looks, I could make you place mats, decorator cushions, rugs, even afghans?”

Her eyes brightened with excitement. “How soon will it be ready?”

“How about a couple of days?”

Once we'd reached an agreement, she wandered around the shop. I had the feeling she wanted to talk about something with me, but was hesitant to bring it up. I had a pretty good idea what that something might be. After flitting from display to display for a few minutes, she started talking.

“I heard something upsetting,” she said. “It seems that Judy has been spreading rumors about me. Did she say anything to you?”

“Nothing bad. The only thing she mentioned was that Swanson made your life miserable when you did your renovations.”

“That's all? I'm surprised. She told others that I recently did more remodeling without a city permit.”

Judy's comments had made me suspect Susan for a few days, but I'd since dismissed her as a possibility. “Now that you mention it, she did say you did more renovations recently. But I didn't pay it much attention.”

“I had all the construction done months ago, and
with
a permit. And then recently, I finally got around to the details—things like new tiles in the bathrooms, new kitchen cabinets, counter and backsplash. Those jobs don't require a permit. Renovating is expensive. By the time we finished the big jobs, we couldn't afford to continue. So we waited until just recently to do the rest.”

“It sure does cost a fortune. Even for a small job,” I said, gesturing toward my new wall. “I found that out too.”

The tenseness left her mouth and she smiled. “But it's all worth it in the end. I love my new floor plan. And your place looks great too.” She smiled, suddenly embarrassed. “Anyhow, what with Inspector Swanson being murdered, I wanted to clarify the situation. I did not do anything illegal, whatever Judy may have told you, and I most certainly did not have any arguments with him.” With those words, she headed for the door. “Give me a call the moment the sample is ready,” she said, and walked out.

Marnie, who had been quiet during most of this exchange, said, “It's interesting that she thought it important to tell you there was no bad blood between her and Swanson.”

“Perhaps, but I really don't think she had anything to do with it, if that's what you're implying,” I said.

Marnie gave me a teasing smile. “Just checking. I know how your suspect list keeps changing.”

She counted on her fingers. “Mona, Syd and Dempsey. And for a while you were considering Susan, and even Swanson's ex-wife, Sondra. Am I forgetting anyone?”