Murder and Salutations (Book 3 in the Cardmaking Mysteries) (24 page)

“
Sure, I was just about to
take a break, and I’m in my office. Do you want to come over?” He
was in City Hall at the other end of Oakmont, a short stroll from
my business.

“
Okay, I’ll be there in two
minutes.”

“
Hang on a second. You know
what? It’s a pretty day. Why don’t I walk over there? Do you have
any coffee on?”

“
You know it.” I
said.

“
Then I’ll see you in a
minute or two.”

After he hung up, I started having second
thoughts. “Lillian, this is a mistake. I shouldn’t have called
him.”

“
So blame me for having the
overactive imagination.”

The door chimed, and I looked over to see
who was coming in. Bradford must have sprinted to get there that
fast. It was a customer, though, a welcome relief. She looked at a
few cards, then asked. “Do you have anything edgier than
these?”

“
What did you have in mind?”
I asked.

“
I’m looking for something
with some bite. My husband just told me he’s leaving me for a
younger woman, and I’d like to show him my disgust with a card. I
figured, why not? They make cards for everything else.”

Lillian smiled at the woman. “I’ve got just
the card for you. In fact, I made it myself.” As she led our
customer to her selection of acerbic cards, Bradford walked in.

“
Where’s that coffee?” he
said, then lowered his voice when he saw we had a
customer.

“
It’s in back,” I said as I
led him to our storeroom that also served as a handy place for our
breaks.

I poured him a cup, and one for me as well.
He sipped it, then said, “That’s great. Now what’s up?”

“
I’m not sure I should have
called you,” I admitted. “I’m starting to feel silly about
it.”

“
What’s it
concerning?”

“
Everything that’s been
happening in town the past few days,” I said.

“
Sis, if you have any ideas,
I’ll take them. This isn’t for the general public, but I’m not
doing too well. I know there’s got to be a common link here, but I
can’t find it. If I don’t come up with something soon, I’m going to
have to call the state police, and I hate having to do
that.”

“
Okay, but remember, this is
just theory.” I recounted Savannah’s story about the letter opener,
then told him my suspicions linking Reggie Bloom to Eliza. “It’s
not much, is it?” he asked after he stared at his coffee for a few
seconds.

“
I’m sorry I called you,” I
said. “I guess I’m just grasping at straws.”

“
Sometimes that’s the only
way to find what you’re, looking for,” Bradford said. “I’ll have to
be careful when I talk to him. His family’s got money, and that
means influence.”

“
Forget I
said anything, Bradford.” He shook his head. “A lead’s a lead, Sis.
It won’t cost a thing to question him.” He took one last
sip,
then said, “Thanks for the
coffee.”

Before I could stop him, he was gone. Should
I have kept my suspicions to myself? The way my imagination could
run on overdrive, I’d be suspecting Pete next.

Lillian was ringing up a sale, and I could
see that the woman had bought one of nearly every card my aunt
offered. The woman was smiling as she looked at me. “These are
wonderful. You should get them into every card shop in the
country.”

“
Tell her that,” I said,
gesturing toward Lillian, “She’s talented, isn’t she?”

“
With just the right twisted
mind,” the woman agreed.

Lillian shrugged. “It’s a gift. Thanks for
coming by.”

“
Thank you,” she said, and
then to everyone’s surprise, she hugged Lillian before
leaving.

“
That was something,”
Lillian said, after the woman had gone.

“
She’s right, you know. Your
cards would sell just about anywhere.”

Lillian looked pleased, though she said,
“You’ve been working with the glue too much lately; the vapors have
gone to your head. What did your brother say?”

“
He’s going to talk to
Reggie,” I said.

“
Wouldn’t you love to be
privy to that conversation?”

I straightened the bags under the counter as
I said, “Not particularly. The man’s not that fond of me now. Wait
until Bradford talks to him.”

“
Jennifer, do you have any
ideas about what we should do now?”

“
We could always make some
new cards. How’s the inventory in your section?”

She said, “Let me check.”

I walked over to Lillian’s corner, and after
she went through the racks, she said, “We’ve been selling more of
these than I thought. I need to come up with some new cards.”

“
That’s fine, but don’t
forget, you should replace the ones you’re selling, too. After all,
they’re your most popular cards.”

She looked hesitant, and I asked, “Is
something wrong?”

“
I have so much fun coming
up with each card, but it’s halved every time I have to do the same
one again. It gets tedious, doesn’t it?”

“
It can,” I admitted. “Mass
production is a lot different from the initial creative process,
but we can’t sell them if they’re not on the racks. Come on, I’ll
help you.”

“
With the themes?” she
asked.

“
Oh, no, we’ll leave that up
to you. What I can do is help you make replacements for the cards
you’ve sold. I know it may seem a bit morbid working when the
world’s falling down all around us, but to be honest with you, I
think it might just take my mind off what’s been happening
lately.”

“
Then by all means, let’s
make some cards.”

I got out the stock and
started folding cards while Lillian picked several of her cards
that were running low. As I worked to replicate them, I couldn’t
help but laugh at some of the sentiments. After all, who could
resist opening a card that said, “Dinosaurs, Pet Rocks and
Drive-Ins” on the outside? Inside it, Lillian had written in a fine
hand, “They’re All Gone. Why Aren’t You?”—a dry message expressed
so cheerfully.
We worked on several
different cards, waiting on customers now and then. By closing
time, we’d managed to restock most of her section.

“
Any plans tonight,
Jennifer?” Lillian asked.

“
No, I’m going to stay home
and hang out with Oggie and Nash. I’ve missed the rascals lately.
How about you?”

“
Another
evening, another beau,” she said, waving
her hand in the air. “It can be difficult finding the right
man in this town.”

“
Especially when you’ve
already tried out so many of them,” I said with a smile.

“
My, don’t you have a mouth
on you.”

“
It’s your fault,” I said.
“I’ve been reading your greeting cards all afternoon.”

“
Perhaps we should limit
your exposure then,” she said, adding a smile. “Have a nice
evening, Jennifer.”

“
You, too,” I said. Lillian
left, but I still had a report to run on my register, and then
there was the bank, inventory and supply restocking. It was
definitely easier being an employee than an owner, but I didn’t
mind. Custom Card Creations was mine, and I wouldn’t have had it
any other way. After I was finished for the night, I decided to
walk down to Sara Lynn’s shop to see how she was doing, but I was
surprised to see the place dark, though it was a night my sister
normally stayed open late. Had she finally taken our advice and
gone home? Despite what she’d said, I decided to go by and check on
her. The only problem was, I still didn’t have my car. Getting
rides from my family was getting old. I wanted my independence
back.

I phoned my brother. “I need a ride,” I said
abruptly.

“
I’m fine, Jen, how are
you?”

“
Sorry,” I said. “I’m just
tired of depending on you for my transportation.”

“
Are you at the
shop?”

“
No,” I said, “I’m in front
of Forever Memories. Sara Lynn closed up early.”

“
I know, she called me,” he
said.

“
Why didn’t she tell me,
too?”

“
Take it easy, Jennifer. She
tried calling you, but your phone was busy. She doesn’t want to be
disturbed, and I’m going to respect that wish.”

“
Fine, I’ll leave her
alone,” I said, not at all happy about the way my sister was
acting. “So, do I get that ride, or not?”

A horn honked nearby, and at first I was
annoyed. Then I recognized the sound. I looked over at Bradford,
who was behind the wheel of my Gremlin, holding his cell phone. The
car’s once-broken window was now bright and shiny.

“
Hop in,” he
said.

“
No way. You scoot over. I’m
driving.”

He did as I asked, though I could tell it
was with reluctance. “Now I get to drive you around.”

“
Just to my office,” he
said. “I’m parked there. I thought you’d like your car
back.”

I rubbed the steering wheel. “You
betcha.”

“
Hey, Sis, when are you
going to get a car that was made in the last twenty years,
anyway?”

I stroked the dashboard. “This car has
character,” I said.

“
It’s a character, all
right,” he replied with a grin.

“
Don’t talk that way about
my baby. Did you speak with Reggie Bloom?”

“
I did,” Bradford admitted,
and from the expression on his face, I could tell it hadn’t gone
well. “He wasn’t pleased about our conversation.”

“
I’m sorry,” I said. “I
should have kept my mouth shut.”

“
Actually, you did the right
thing. I was about to dismiss him when he started getting
belligerent. That just makes me want to dig a little deeper. I
didn’t like his attitude.”

“
Bradford, don’t make this
personal. He had a right to be defensive.”

My brother shook his head.
“You don’t understand. A lot of what I do is based on my gut. There
was something that didn’t jibe between the way he acted
and what he was saying. It’s not going to hurt
anything to poke around a little.”

“
Just don’t poke too hard,”
I said. “I’m living on his mother’s goodwill, remember?”

“
Speaking of your new place,
have you had the locks changed yet? You don’t know how many keys
are floating around, and I’m willing to bet there are a couple at
the main house.”

“
I’ll speak to Helena,” I
said, “but I can’t just change the locks without her permission.
Besides, I’ve got my guardians, remember?”

“
If you’re relying on Oggie
and Nash as your home security system, you might as well leave your
door wide open.”

“
Okay, as watch cats they’re
pretty useless, but other than that, they’re adorable. I’ve still
got my softball bat, and I know how to use it.”

“
Just watch your step,
okay?”

“
I promise,” I said. I
dropped him off at his office, made the bank deposit, and then
drove to my new place. Funny, but the day before, I had felt secure
living behind a locked gate. That serenity was gone now, knowing
that a murderer might have the code himself. Could Reggie have done
everything I suspected, or was he just a convenient suspect? If he
was guilty, would my brother’s questioning make him more cautious,
or more reckless? He was a hard man to figure out.

As I got out of the Gremlin, I saw that
someone was watching me from the trees.

“
Hello?” I called
out.

“
Who’s there?” I asked,
wishing I had my bat with me.

Reggie himself stepped out, a cigarette in
his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said.

I jammed my keys between my fingers and made
a fist in case I had to defend myself. “What do you want?”

“
Did you sic your brother on
me?”

He was angry; there was no doubt about that.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Denial was my best course
of action at the moment, at least until I got my bat.

Reggie grunted. “I think you do.”

I started toward my door. “Think what you
want.”

As I slid the key into the lock, he said
from behind me, “You need to mind your own business.”

“
You, too,” I said for some
inane reason, as I slipped inside and bolted the door. Bradford’s
point about the locks hit home, so I took a chair and jammed it
under the knob. Nobody would be able to get in now, short of
breaking the door down.

Oggie and Nash were sitting side by side
staring at me when I looked up.

“
You two think I’m crazy,
don’t you?”

Neither one of them denied it. “Well, I
think you’re both unbalanced, too. So how do you like that?”

I could have sworn they both looked at each
other before they came to me. I sat down heavily on the couch, and
they bumped me in greeting before curling up next to me. I stroked
a cat with each hand, and immediately felt better. They were better
than therapy as they purred in unison at my touch. After a while, I
felt my blood pressure start to drop and my pulse slow. Maybe it
was my imagination, but then again, maybe it wasn’t.