Loom and Doom (20 page)

“She's fine,” he said. “I saw her yesterday.”

“You did?” I said, shocked. “Whatever for?”

“I went to visit my mother and yours happened to be there. She looked well.”

That was so weird. Everybody seemed to have talked to my mother lately but me. Jenny had. Then Marnie had told me my mother called her when she couldn't get in touch with me. And now Matthew had seen her. I might have been tempted to give her a call as soon as I got home. But if she asked me if Matthew had proposed yet, I might fall apart. I was so upset by Matthew's comment at dinner that it had taken all I had not to burst into tears right then and there.

T
he headline of the
Belmont Daily
the next morning read M
URDERS
S
TILL
U
NSOLVED
. The article, however, said that the police had found new evidence and that they were looking at a new suspect. It had to be Mona. I scanned the rest of the piece, looking for anything about Sondra's attack, but her name wasn't even mentioned. How odd, I thought. I retrieved the card the police officer in Charlotte had given me yesterday and picked up the phone. When he picked up, I introduced myself.

“Yes,” he said. “Of course I remember you. You're the snoop.”

I chuckled. “I've been called worse things,” I said, and went right to the point. “I was wondering if you have any news about Sondra Andrews' condition.”

There was a long pause. “I'm afraid we're not at liberty to divulge any information about that case at the moment.”

“Oh,” I said, taken aback. “Can you at least tell me which hospital she's in?”

There was another pause, this one briefer. “Sorry, but I can't tell you that either. But here's what I will do. As soon as we get clearance to talk about it, I'll let you know.”

There was nothing I could do but thank him and hang up.

If Sondra was still alive, the police might want to keep her condition and location a secret in order to keep her safe. That thought bolstered my spirits.

I folded the paper and looked up to see Marnie struggling with boxes while trying to unlock the door. I dashed over to help.

“These are for Jenny—except for this one,” she said, dropping all of them on the counter. She set the top one aside, and picked up the others. “I'll be right back.” I opened the door for her again and she went over to Jenny's. When she returned a few minutes later, it was with muffins and coffees. Winston, who had been snoozing on his cushion behind the counter, sat up.

“Sorry, big boy. These are not for you,” she said.

I snatched a liver treat from my catchall drawer and threw it. He hopped up, grabbing it in midair, then went back to his cushion.

“At what time did Matthew come by this morning?” she asked, handing me a cup.

“He dropped Winston off around nine o'clock.”

She eyed me critically. “You look like hell. What's wrong? Didn't you sleep last night?”

“Not very well,” I said, taking a sip.

“Why not? Did Sondra Andrews refuse to see you?”

“No, that's not it. Sondra was there, but she'd been attacked.” Marnie's face fell. “I found her bleeding on the dining room floor and called the ambulance.”

“Please, don't tell me she's dead.”

“I have no idea how she is at the moment. She was alive when the ambulance got there, and she was in surgery when I was at the police station. But I called the police this morning and they wouldn't give me any updates. They wouldn't even tell me which hospital she was taken to. I hope she's alive and they're keeping her condition a secret for her protection. But I can't help feeling that it's all my fault. If I hadn't made an appointment to meet with her, she'd probably be fine right now.”

“Don't be silly. How were you to know somebody would try to kill her?” She furrowed her brows. “Who else knew you had an appointment with her?”

“Except for you, Jenny and me, there was only Lori Stanton. She overheard Jenny and me talking yesterday before I headed over.”

“Well, that proves it. It had to be her.”

“That's why I asked you if she was gone from her shop for any length of time yesterday.”

Marnie's face fell for the second time in as many minutes. “I forgot about that. I called a few people, but they all said she was at work all day.”

“Well, then, she must have told her sister. Mona is the only other person who could have done it.” At that moment the bell above the door rang, and Officer Lombard walked in.

Uh-oh.

This was not going to be pleasant.

“I hear you found another victim yesterday,” she said. I detected an edge to her voice, but rather than get on the defensive, I put on the charm.

“Yes, and I was just about to call you,” I said. Her eyes registered surprise, but only for the briefest of instants. I continued. “I could be wrong, but I think I might know who's behind both murders and also the attack on the ex-Mrs. Swanson.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I don't blame you for being doubtful,” I continued. “But you can be the judge.” I was being so nice and polite, she had no choice but to listen. She shifted her weight and planted her hands on her hips.

“All along, I kept going back to the same question. Who had the best motive for killing Swanson? And no matter how I looked at it, I kept coming to the same answer. His new wife. From the very first, all I heard about her was how attractive she is, and how nobody could figure out why she married her husband. Before he died, Swanson bought a house from Ronald Dempsey. That model is listed at one point five million dollars, but Dempsey let Swanson have it at a fifty percent discount. That didn't surprise me too much. Considering Swanson was extorting money in exchange for permits, I figured Swanson gave Dempsey an easy pass for his permits in return for the discount. And for a while, I was sure Dempsey had killed him. It made sense. Dempsey had the opportunity. He was at city hall when I found Swanson's body. And now that he is starting the second phase of his project, I'm sure Swanson must have demanded some form of payment for the new permits Dempsey would need to move forward.”

“A minute ago you said you thought Mona killed him.”

“I know. I'm just going over all the different theories so you understand how I arrived at that conclusion.”

She crossed her arms. “I'm listening.”

“Well, supposing the attack on the ex-Mrs. Swanson is related to the two murders, I doubt Dempsey would have done it. For one thing, he had no idea that I was driving to Charlotte to see her. Also, I couldn't imagine what Sondra might know about him that he'd want to kill her for. The only person Sondra might know something about, would be the woman her husband left her for—Mona.”

She nodded. “That's a good point.”

“There could have been any number of reasons Mona wanted to get rid of her husband—his money, another man. She was probably planning to divorce him from the day she married him. Now, getting back to the house Swanson bought from Dempsey, it turns out that he'd taken out mortgage insurance on the property. And by signing that policy, I suspect he signed his own death warrant. As his wife, Mona stands to inherit, not only his pension plans and life insurance policy, but also a one-point-five-million-dollar house, free and clear.”

Officer Lombard's eyes widened.

“I think she planned the murder and, if she didn't do it herself, she got somebody else to do it.”

“A hired killer,” she said, nodding to herself.

“Syd Shuttleworth.”

Lombard's demeanor had slowly changed until she had lost all the stiffness in her bearing.

“If I'm right, then as soon as Swanson was dead Shuttleworth became a liability. That's the only logical reason she would have had to kill Syd.”

“Murder for hire,” Lombard said, her eyes glazing with determination. “But how do we prove it?” I couldn't help noticing that she'd said “we.”

“There are a few possibilities. There might be some evidence that would prove she killed Syd.”

Lombard shook her head. “No such luck.”

“Or that she attacked Sondra Andrews.”

“I didn't get all the information from the Charlotte police yet. What other ideas have you got?”

“There's always Sondra herself. She was conscious when I found her. And when I asked her if she had seen her attacker, she nodded and said, ‘
She
killed Howard, and
she
tried to kill me.' I figure Mona attacked her.”

“Let's hope Sondra can tell us.”

“I called the Charlotte police this morning to find out how she is. They wouldn't even tell me if she's still alive, or which hospital she was taken to. The only reason I can imagine they would keep it a secret is if she's survived. They're keeping her condition and whereabouts a secret for her protection.”

“Anything else you care to share?” she asked in a friendly tone.

“You know, I saw her just before finding Syd's body,” I said. “I happened to drive by her house—”

“Happened to?” Lombard said, the corners of her mouth curling.

“I admit I was curious. I wanted to see what kind of house Swanson had—whether it looked like a mansion. Mona happened to be in the window. Not only that, but when I walked around the car to see if there was a bumper sticker like the one on the car I saw at city hall that day, I happened to put my hand on the hood, and it was hot. It wasn't ten minutes later that I found Syd's body.”

“What's this about a bumper sticker?”

“I told your partner,” I said, and explained that I'd forgotten about the sticker when they first interviewed me. “It was the same one that I saw on the car the day of the murder.”

“So the killer, whether it was Syd or Mona, used her car that day. Why would they do that?”

I shrugged. “Syd's van was highly recognizable. As for her sister, I don't know if she even has a car.”

Lombard nodded again. “I hate to admit it, but it all makes sense.”

I gave her a tentative smile. “I know you and I got off at a wrong start. I hope we can leave all of that behind and start over again.”

She gave me a crooked smile. “Well, you must admit you have a way of butting in where you have no business.”

“She does do that,” Marnie said, laughing.

“But from now on,” Lombard continued, “if you find out anything, do me a favor and give me a call.” She pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to me. “Don't go through dispatch,” she said, heading for the exit. “And by the way, why don't you call me Roxanne from now on?”

As soon as the door closed behind her, Marnie dashed to the window, staring at the sky.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“If anybody had told me you and Lombard would make peace, I would never have believed it,” she said. “I'm looking for flying pigs.”

•   •   •

A short time later, Marnie got us fresh cups of coffee. “You still look troubled,” she said, handing me one. I'd been trying to put Matthew's comments about marriage out of my mind, with little success.

“I need your advice about something.”

“Uh-oh. This sounds serious.”

“Maybe I'm overreacting. You remember how I gave the saleslady at Prestige Homes Jenny's name and told her I was shopping for my fiancé and me?”

“I remember.”

“Well, Matthew and I were at the Longview for dinner last night and she was there. She made a beeline to our table as soon as she saw me, and started congratulating Matthew on our engagement, asking him about the wedding. You should have seen the look on his face. After she left, he gave me a long speech about how he's happy with the status quo and has no intention of getting married.”

“Ever?”

“Not in the foreseeable future was how he put it.”

“So what's your question?” she asked.

“What am I supposed to do?”

She crossed her arms and thought about it. “I can't see that there's anything you can do,” she said at last. “What was his behavior like when he dropped Winston off this morning?”

“Totally normal. As if nothing had changed.”

“I guess that's because nothing
did
change—at least for him.”

“But I don't want to
date
for the rest of my life. I want to get married, have children and build a family. If he can't give me that, I might as well break it off and make myself available to other men.” I squeezed my eyes shut, thinking of my mother. She'd be at least as devastated as me.

“Is that what you want to do?”

“What I want is for him to
want
to marry me. I've been in love with him for years, waiting for him to feel the same about me. At long last, I thought he and I had a future together. But no. We're
dating
. And that's all it will ever be.”

Marnie patted my back. “There, there. Don't get yourself all worked up. You know men. A woman mentions the word marriage and they put on their running shoes. But that doesn't mean he doesn't love you. All it means is he's not ready for
now
.”

“You think so?”

“Well,” she said, sounding hesitant. “Some men have been known to change their minds.” That didn't make me feel any better.

T
he day went by with me watching customer after customer enter Jenny's shop. If my sales hadn't picked up as much as they had, I might have been a bit envious. Sometime midafternoon, Jenny crossed over to my side, looking exhausted.

“I just heard,” she said. “It seems the police have just arrested Mona Swanson.”

“You're kidding,” I said.

“I thought you'd like hearing the news,” Jenny said.

“She's been arrested? When did this happen?” Marnie asked.

“Well, since we just heard, I figure it can't be more than a half hour or so ago. You know how fast news travels around here.” She glanced at her watch. “I'd better get back. It's been so busy, I don't even have time to breathe. And it's only going to get busier.”

“And to think,” I said. “Just a short time ago, you were worried about not being able to get your customers back.”

She chuckled. “And now, I have so much work I've been thinking of hiring another employee.”

“You have?” Marnie said. “That's wonderful. I'm so happy you're doing well.”

Jenny was turning to go when she stopped and looked at me through narrowed eyes. “Your aura is muddy. Something's wrong. What is it?”

“Trouble in paradise,” Marnie said. “Yesterday Matthew announced that he doesn't want to get married, and Della doesn't like the idea of dating him for the rest of her life.”

“Give the man some time. You only started dating a few months ago. I'd love to talk about it, but I left Margaret by herself.”

Marnie followed her, calling out something about grabbing us something to eat.

As soon as the door closed behind them, I noticed the way they brought their heads together, whispering and giggling. For some reason, I had the strangest feeling they were enjoying a laugh at my expense. But as soon as that thought crossed my mind, I knew I had to be wrong. These were my friends. When I hurt, they did too.

•   •   •

I was finishing the grilled-cheese sandwich Marnie had brought back with her, when the phone rang. It was the Charlotte police officer I'd called earlier.

“I'm sorry I couldn't give you any information before,” he said. “But as long as the victim's attacker was free, we couldn't risk anybody knowing she was still alive.”

“Thank God she's alive. How is her condition?”

“I wouldn't say she's all right,” he said. “The bullet was very close to her heart and she went into cardiac arrest during the surgery.”

So she had been shot. The idea conjured an awful image in my mind. “Has Sondra said anything yet?”

“They've got her in an induced coma,” he said. “Her condition is critical. That's all I know so far. But that isn't the reason I was calling you. I wanted to tell you that you can pick up your car now.” He gave me the address and I wrote it down.

“Can you tell me which hospital she's in? I'd like to visit her.”

“She's at the Carolinas Medical Center. But, seeing as she's in a coma, I doubt the doctors will let her see anyone.” I thanked him and went online to order a flower arrangement to be delivered to her room.

“That's nice of you,” Marnie said, just as Judy Bates walked in.

“What's nice?” she asked.

“Inspector Swanson's ex-wife, Sondra Andrews, was attacked yesterday. She's in critical condition at the hospital. Della just ordered her some flowers.”

“Sondra was attacked? But she's alive, right?”

“She is,” I said.

“How did it happen?” Marnie told her the story while I concluded my online purchase. “You know,” Judy said, “I think I'll send her some flowers too.”

“I didn't know you and Sondra were friends,” Marnie said.

“I wouldn't say we're friends, more like friendly acquaintances,” she said. “We used to be members of the same book club, before she moved away. I liked her. She was nice. In what hospital is she?” I told her. Judy nodded. “I hope having all those flowers around her will make her feel better when she wakes up.”

“That's
if
she wakes up,” Marnie said. “She was shot. They'll probably find the gun hidden somewhere in Mona Swanson's house. With the weapon as evidence, the case against her will be a slam dunk.”

“Thank goodness that woman is off the streets,” Judy said. “Word is you had a lot to do with her being arrested. That's why I stopped by—to thank you.”

“I didn't really do anything. I'm sure it was all Officer Lombard,” I said, earning myself a thumbs-up from Marnie.

“I also wanted to tell you that the article about my house is appearing in tomorrow's paper,” Judy continued. “I hope it brings you lots of new customers.” She gave us a little wave and left.

“Do you really think Mona Swanson would have been stupid enough to keep the weapon?” Marnie asked.

I froze, as an idea hit me. “You know, it never occurred to me before, but there were two murders and one attempted murder. And for the three attacks, a different weapon was used each time. Isn't that strange?”

“What's so strange about that?”

“For one thing,” I said, thinking out loud. “If Mona was planning to murder her husband, don't you think she would have used a weapon other than a bookend? If a person premeditates a murder wouldn't you think they'd bring a weapon along?”

“You can't say that about her attack on Sondra Andrews. She brought a gun with her.”

“Hmm. I wonder if Syd's murder was planned,” I said as another thought came to me. “I guess there's one way I could find out. The police probably know whether the knife belonged to him. If it did, then Mona didn't bring a weapon and probably went there to talk. And for some reason, probably during a heated argument, she grabbed the knife and stabbed him.”

“What difference does it make, whether she planned the murders or not? If she didn't, the lady sure has some anger management issues.”

I was still laughing when the phone rang. “Dream Weaver, Della speaking.”

“Della, this is Johanna. I can't believe what I just heard. Mona Swanson got arrested?”

“That's right.”

“Anyhow, that's not why I'm calling. I heard something else that really upset me. Sondra was attacked? I hope she's all right?”

“She's alive,” I said. “But she suffered a cardiac arrest on the operating table. They've got her in an induced coma. I hope she recovers, but right now her condition is listed as critical.”

“Oh, that poor woman. What a terrible time she's had of it lately, first the divorce, now this. I don't even think she has many friends.”

“I know Judy Bates is sending her flowers,” I said. “And I just did too.”

“Judy Bates? Really? How odd. I had no idea those two even knew each other. You know, I should do something for her, too. I think I'll pick up a get well card and get everyone at the office to sign it.”

“That would be a lovely gesture,” I said, and gave her the name of the hospital. We said good-bye, and as soon as we'd hung up, I called Roxanne before it slipped my mind.

“I know this is none of my business,” I said. “But—”

She laughed, and it hit me that I had never heard her do so before. It made her seem all the more human. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

I laughed too. “Do you happen to know whether the knife that killed Syd Shuttleworth belonged to him, or whether she brought it with her?”

“We think it was his. It was a hunting knife and there were other hunting tools in his garage. Why do you ask?”

I told her my theory that if the murder was premeditated, she would have brought a weapon. “That's why I'm now thinking that maybe she and Syd argued and she grabbed the knife and stabbed him in a fit of anger. Also, I'm beginning to think that she might not have planned to kill Howard. If she had, I'm sure she would have brought a weapon along. Killing somebody by hitting them over the head can't possibly be premeditated. That would also explain why she was driving out of that parking lot like a bat out of hell. She was probably shocked at what she'd done. If she'd thought about it ahead of time, she would probably have come up with a less noticeable exit.”

“Please don't tell me you're having doubts about her guilt,” she said, sounding the tiniest bit worried. “Anyhow, that's not my problem. I'll let the DA decide whether the murders were premeditated or not.”

Afterward, I told Marnie about the conversation Roxanne and I had. “I might even start liking her,” I said.

Marnie rolled her eyes. “Now, I know hell has just frozen over.”

•   •   •

At five o'clock, Matthew appeared in the doorway, and my heart skipped a beat. I was still upset with him, but he looked so handsome, dressed casually in jeans and a camel-colored suede jacket, that it took all my willpower to not drape myself all over him. Winston galloped over to greet him, hopping on his hind legs and prancing.

“Hey, big boy. How've you been? Did you miss me?” He pulled out his leash as he spoke and hooked it to Winston's harness.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he said turning to me. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I said, determined to behave normally. “Did you hear? They arrested Mona Swanson.”

“I take it that means no more detecting for you?”

“I guess not. By the way, I got a call from the Charlotte police. My Jeep is ready to be picked up.”

“Okay. When would you like to go?”

“How's early tomorrow afternoon? That way you can do your word count in the morning and we can head back before rush hour.”

“Sounds great. Pick you up at one, how's that?”

“Perfect.”

To my surprise, he opened the door and left without so much as making plans to get together. Marnie, who had been in the studio, came over.

“What happened? Did you two have a fight?”

“No. He just picked up Winnie and left.”

“So why do you look so miserable?”

“Normally he hugs me and gives me a kiss. And he didn't say anything about the next time we'd go out together.”

“Didn't I hear him offer to drive you to Charlotte? You'll see him then.”

I knew what she was saying was logical, but I had a bad feeling Matthew was pulling away rather than getting closer. What I needed was a shoulder, and much to my surprise, the shoulder I wanted most was my mother's.

Tonight I'd give her a call and ask her advice—something I hadn't done in years.

•   •   •

I was returning from making my nightly deposit when I saw somebody waiting by the door to my building. It was Officer Lombard and for the first time since I'd met her, she was dressed in civilian clothes: casual beige pants, a floral shirt and a sweater.

“I almost didn't recognize you,” I said. “You look nice.”

“You mean, wearing normal-people clothes?” she said. “I was hoping you might have a few minutes.”

“Sure. Come on up.” She followed me up the stairs, and I offered her something to drink.

“Thanks—anything but coffee. I must have had half a dozen cups already.” That was something we had in common.

“Good idea. I always drink way too much of it. Since you're not in uniform, does that mean you can have a glass of wine?”

“That'd be great. Anything you have already open will be fine.” I hurried to the kitchen and checked the fridge. Sure enough I had a half bottle of chardonnay. I carried it back along with two glasses.

“Sorry for the mess, by the way. I don't always have a loom in the living room.”

“And here I thought it was part of the decor.” I saw the teasing glint in her eyes. I could hardly believe it, but the woman was growing on me. Could it be that she and I could actually become friends?

“This almost feels festive,” I said, handing her a glass.

“Well, we certainly have something to celebrate,” she said as we clicked glasses. She leaned back into the sofa. “Considering much of the case we have against Mona Swanson is from information you provided, I thought I at least owed you an update on everything that's happened. After leaving here, I went to Judge King and got a search warrant for Mona's home.”

“You found the gun.”

“No such luck,” she said. “But we did find a pair of jeans and a shirt she'd buried in the backyard. They were covered in blood and the type matches Syd Shuttleworth's. But until we get the DNA, we can't be one hundred percent sure.”

“Buried!” I said in disbelief.

She nodded. “She wanted to get rid of the jeans but was afraid of throwing them in the garbage in case we searched. She thought burying them would be the best way to go. The good news is she's admitted to killing him, but claims it was in self-defense. She swears she had nothing to do with her husband's murder, or with the attack on Sondra Andrews.”

“I don't get it. Why would she admit to one murder and not to her other crimes?”

“For one thing, it would be near impossible for her to claim innocence in Syd's murder. We may not have the results of the DNA test of the blood on her clothes yet, but she must have known it would be just a question of time.”

That made sense. “What does she say about her husband's murder?”

“Oddly enough, she admits to driving over to city hall that morning, to supposedly show him the picture of a sofa she wanted to buy for the new house. But she insists that he was already dead when she got there and she panicked. All she did was walk into his office, and run back out. According to her, that's why she drove out of there like a bat out of hell. And she also insists that she had nothing to do with the attack on Sondra Andrews.”

“A likely story,” I said, harrumphing. “But if she's already going up for murder, why not admit to both? Everybody already knows she did it. But she probably feels that a jury will be more lenient toward her for one murder than two, plus an attempted murder.” I snapped my fingers. “Also, legally a person cannot profit from a crime. So, in order to inherit her husband's estate, she can't be convicted of killing him.”