Old Maid's Puzzle (27 page)

I glanced at the time. Our segment on the Wonderful World of Quilts show had ended, but the phone wasn't ringing. Nor did I hear Vangie's computer ping. Customers were not virtually beating down the doors as we'd hoped. No one was clamoring for the scissors or any other QP product. I'd completely miscalculated.

Gussie came in and closed the office door. "I need my money back, Dewey," she said, pulling me toward the safe. "I've got to get it to Redding."

"Oh, please, not now, Gussie." I took a breath, reminding myself to be kind. "Pearl told me about this notion that Jeremy is in jail."

"He is in jail." Gussie's eyes were flashing.

I lost patience with her. My nerves were frayed. "Who told you that? He is not. Larry was lying and, whoever this new guy is, he's lying too. Did you ever think Larry might have a partner, who knew about your money?"

"No, this guy was Jeremy's friend. Larry lied about the mortgage, that's true. But he was trying to protect me. Jeremy knew I couldn't bear to know that he was in jail."

I scrubbed at my face. "Gussie, it's not that difficult to get bail money to Jeremy. Call your daughter."

Gussie shrank back. "I can't. Her new husband has forbidden me from calling the house."

I needed to convince her to drop this once and for all, but I could see the conviction in her face. She really believed Jeremy was in jail and that she was his only hope.

I patted her arms and modulated my tone to a gentle one. "Listen. I'll call Buster and he'll arrange things. If Jeremy is in jail, he can get the bail bond here. No one has to drive to Redding."

She pulled on the bottom of her sweatshirt, stretching the fabric and releasing it. "That'll take time," she said nervously.

"Not as long as driving up there." Or giving your money to a total stranger.

I eased her toward the door. I could appeal to her sense of loyalty to the store. "You know I could really use you this morning, right?"

She nodded. "I want to help."

"Just give me some time while I get Buster to straighten this out."

I led her to the classroom. The TV was off. Jenn was wielding the box cutter, slitting open the scissors shipment. I hadn't heard the FedEx guy make the delivery. Thank you, Felix, I thought.

The Stitch 'n' Bitch group was armed with barcodes and was slapping them on the packages of scissors as fast as Jenn got them out of the boxes.

Vangie had erased my to-do list on the whiteboard and was writing on it.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Gussie joined the group pricing the scissors. The worry lines had eased from her forehead a little. She liked Buster and was willing to wait for him.

"We're figuring out how to get everything done by tomorrow," Vangie said. She pointed to the new to-do list on the board. "Reprioritizing. I'm going to print out the directions to Kym's quilt."

I was not convinced. "What about the kits? She said there were going to be kits."

Jenn said, "I'll make them. I can stay late tonight if I have to. In fact, my kids can come over and help me bag up the kits. My daughter's totally into scrapbooking. She can make them look pretty. We can make at least two or three kits. We can take orders for the rest."

Vangie was writing while the others threw out ideas. Everyone was brainstorming. I was amazed by the energy in the room.

Ina said, "How's this? An incentive for people who wait until next week to get the kit. We'll give a free class to put the kit together."

I cringed. That meant less profit if I had to pay for a teacher. "I can't afford that"

Ina was adamant. "It won't cost you anything. I volunteer to teach the class. I'll show the kit buyers how to do the quilt. Just one night, but-"

I wanted to catch their optimism, but there seemed like so much to do. My mind buzzed with so many undone chores, I was afraid I'd blow a circuit. It was too late.

"I appreciate you guys stepping up, but ... Vangie you have the banking to do, and the online store. And Pearl and Ina, weren't you going to work on the Old Maid's Puzzle?" And Celeste, deep in her grief, shouldn't even be here. At least Gussie had let go of the idea of taking the bail money, for now.

The six of them gathered around me, drawing me closer to the whiteboard. Vangie's eyes flashed with determination.

Pearl spoke softly. "Let us help you, Dewey. If we say we can do this, we will."

My eyes filled with tears. "You really think this'll work?"

They all nodded. I was lucky to have them in my corner. I had to let them try.

I agreed. "Okay, get to it. I'll be in my office if you need me."

From there, I called Buster and asked him to check on Jeremy and see if he was in jail in Redding. He promised to call me back soon.

Jenn and Pearl went to the front of the store and pulled fabrics to match the ones in Kym's quilt. She'd used a particular line of fabric that we didn't carry anymore, but by the looks of what they had stacked up on the cutting table, they were finding great substitutes.

I opened the e-mail program. I'd send out the note to my customers reminding them of the sale tomorrow. Forget correcting the typos. Forget drawing the cute graphics. Forget embedding the video that Lark had sent me. I sent out the e-mail with just the times of the sale and the live link to the QP online store.

I also logged on the guild listserv and asked for people to volunteer to work tomorrow. I could only pay in fabric, but that should attract a few takers. The list was quiet. Thankfully. No more talk about a man dying in my alley.

About one o'clock, Celeste came out of the classroom. She looked drained, like she'd been running on adrenaline and her supply was suddenly cut.

"I'm going to take myself home," she told me.

I got up from my desk and went to her in the hall. "Thank you for helping. It means a lot to me that you were here today."

She waved me off.

"Need a ride?" Gussie called from the classroom.

Celeste shook her head. "The walk'll do me good."

Ina said, "Let one of us go with you."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "Dewey needs all the help she can get. Without Kym."

I sensed her disapproval, but shook it off.

Celeste said, "I'm just going to go to bed."

I walked Celeste to the back door. I wanted to be sure she was doing okay. She'd lost her boyfriend, after all. Even if he was a creep.

I asked, "Did you talk to the police yet?"

She shook her head, a long lock of gray hair coming loose from her bun. She didn't seem to notice. "I told them I wouldn't be available until this afternoon."

We stood in the hall, the open door allowing the cool October air in. It felt good on my overheated skin. I thought I could smell wood burning. It was the aroma of fall, of leaves falling and trees reinventing themselves for a new season. I needed to drop a few leaves, if QP was going to survive.

Celeste sighed deeply. She ignored my question about Zorn. "The whole thing is overwhelming." Celeste sagged against the door jamb.

I was alarmed at such un-Celeste-like behavior. I glanced back to the classroom to see if Ina or Pearl was coming. I would gladly let one of them take care of her.

I said softly, "Ina?" No one came. I guessed they couldn't hear me in the classroom.

Celeste continued, "I couldn't sleep last night." She seemed to pale further, and I was getting worried. She needed someone more nurturing. I threw my head in the door and called for Gussie a little louder.

To my relief, I turned to see Gussie coming with her keys in hand, carrying a full tote bag. I saw a Diet Coke can peeking out. Even today, Gussie was recycling. The sight made me smile.

Gussie said. "Come on, Celeste. I changed my mind. I'm ready for a nap, too."

"Thanks, Gussie," I said, the relief that Celeste would not be alone like a weight lifted off me. I followed them out, watching Gussie and Celeste walk arm in arm to her car. "Buster will call us and let us know what to do with the bail money."

Gussie waved me off, her concentration on her friend now.

I stood on the back porch. I closed my eyes, breathing deeply. When I opened my eyes, Celeste and Gussie were gone and the back of Shore's ugly van was in my face. I was so tired of looking at it. I'd call my father right now and ask him to tow it out of here. Now. I wanted Tim Shore out of my life once and for all.

I pulled my cell out of my pocket and dialed him. "Hi, Dad," I said. "I need a favor."

He didn't answer. I'd heard him pick up. He still didn't trust his cell phone, so I spoke louder. "Dad?"

But he'd heard me. He said, "Is this about Kym? Because I don't want to get caught in the middle."

I saw red. Kevin and Kym must have gone straight to the Pellicano Construction office and filled him in. "Dammit, Dad, no. That's business. My business. Nothing to do with you." "

I'd thought he'd understand. He'd had his own contracting concern for forty years. Surely he had had to fire people. "Dad..."

I mean it, Dewey," he warned.

"I just need to borrow a truck and a couple of your men."

He listened to my plea to get rid of the derelict van in my parking lot. He said he couldn't promise me anything until after work. All his men were out on jobs. I hung up, feeling less like a Pellicano, and more like an unwanted stepchild.

I went back to my office, sitting heavily at my desk and checked my e-mail. Several new messages had been posted on the guild list since this morning. One was from ruthbequiltin, promising to come in and help out tomorrow. She had a friend she'd bring along.

That was a step in the right direction. I felt a little better. Quilters were good people, always ready to jump in and lend a hand.

I opened another e-mail from the guild list.

"My favorite quilt shop has just become the worst," the first post began. "Kym Pellicano, one of the original owners, was fired today. I will never set foot in that store again."

My heart sank to a new low. There were several more e-mails in the same vein. Misinformation abounded. Kym was the daughter of the owner. Kym was the owner. Kym was the heart and soul and main contributor to the shop. I got sicker as I looked. I clicked off, and sat back in my chair. I had never appreciated the power of email until this moment. Word of mouth was nothing compared to word of e-mail.

The office walls closed in on me. I didn't want to look at any more e-mails, but if I sat here, I knew I couldn't help myself. I shut down the program and went up front to get away from the invading computer.

Jenn was working out on paper the dimensions she needed to cut. Each kit had to have enough fabric in it to make the complete quilt, but no more. If we accidentally shorted a kit, the customer would be upset. Of course if we included too much fabric, I would lose money.

Jenn had laid out the pieces that Kevin had sent in his e-mail. At least Kym had drawn all her applique figures. Once Jenn'd figured out what fabrics went into each kit, then I had to figure out the price based on the fabric used. It was tedious, time-consuming work. Not something to be done in a rush. Of course, time was not something we had today. Thank you, Kym.

I helped Jenn measure. We talked quietly while we worked. She told me she appreciated the new look of the store. I thanked her for helping out. She seemed to have put thoughts of Frank Bascomb out of her mind.

"My kids are going to come here after school, if that's okay. I'll work until five."

I was truly grateful. "Thanks, Jenn."

A customer came in, and Jenn moved on to help her. I glanced on the whiteboard and saw one job that suited my current frame of mind. Cleaning the bathrooms had been on Jenn's to-do list, but there was no way she was going to have time.

I was scrubbing out the toilet, wondering how many years I was cutting off my life breathing in the acrid smell of the toilet cleaner, when I heard Jenn call to me from the front of the store.

"I can't make change. I need more ones, Dewey."

I told her I'd be right there, and went into the office. Vangie could have gotten the change, but she was concentrating on writing Kym's instructions. She cracked her knuckles and stared at the screen. I opened the safe. I'd pulled out the pack of twenty ones and closed the door again before I realized something was wrong.

I panicked, opening the door again. Gussie's money was gone. "Where's the money?" I said.

Vangie picked her head up from the computer. "Gussie's money?" she said, "She took it when she left. Didn't you see her go?"

"Damn!" I yelled. Gussie had been carrying her tote bag when she left with Celeste. I'd just assumed it was full of cans.

I looked from Vangie to Pearl to Ina who'd come in from the classroom when they heard me shout. "Gussie! She's got the money and gone to get her grandson out of jail," I said. "I'm calling the police."

"Hang on," Pearl said. "Maybe she's home."

Or maybe she's already given her money away. The man that called last night had to be another con man. Larry's partner.

Pearl used her cell to call Gussie, but there was no answer. She tried Celeste. Same thing. No answer.

I looked from Pearl to Ina to Vangie. No one knew what to do.

I did. I said, "I'll go look for her at her place, but first I'm letting the police know. They can look for her, too."

I called Buster back. "Hey," I said.

He immediately said, "I'm still waiting on a call back from Redding."

"Forget it," I said. "Gussie took off with the money. She might be driving herself there. Can you track her down?"

"How long has she been gone?"

I looked at Vangie. "Two to three hours?" She nodded.

Buster said, all business-like. "I'll send out an endangered senior alert, and everyone on the force will be on the lookout for her car. It won't take long to catch up with her."

"The police will find her," I said to the three women in my office. They looked relieved. I hung up after thanking Buster.

"I can't just sit here. I'll go to her place and see if she's there," I said, grabbing my keys and my cell. "Call me if you hear anything."