Pane and Suffering (12 page)

She pulled the change out of her pocket, popped into the front door of Casita's, and stuffed the dollar bills in the tip jar beside the cash register. As she walked back down Central Avenue, Frank was still working on the tortillas, both his and hers.

A few blocks later, she passed the glass shop and went next door into the Queen's Head Pub. Parked right next to the street leaned Edward's Indian motorcycle. She opened the glass door and stepped into an eclectic mix of British Traditional Georgian furnishings meets everything needs to be painted white décor. It worked. It was cheerfully disrespectful of all things royal. She loved the plaster casting of the Queen mounted above the cash register against the wall behind the bar—a bar with an actual brass foot rail.

As she perched on one of the bar stools, she realized that not only was she looking for Edward, she was very much looking forward to seeing him. When she saw him come around to the bar from the kitchen, his broad smile lit up those beautiful green eyes.

“Hey, what a nice surprise. I didn't think you were ever going to visit me.”

I like everything about that
. She smiled her brightest. “Buy a girl a cup of tea?”

“Sure. Do you want to try my latest attempt at Earl Grey?”

“Sure, am I the first victim—I mean customer?”

He nodded. “You were right the first time. See, the problem is that I don't like Earl Grey, so I keep trying to make a tea that I like. But it's not working.”

“I confess, I absolutely loathe Earl Grey. I have friends who won't drink anything else, but there it is. I'll have what you drink in the afternoon.”

“I've already got a pot brewed. Be right back.”

He returned with a traditional brown betty teapot and a white mug. “Try this. I've already added some honey.” He set down the mug and poured a rusty red tea.

She tasted the brew. “Mmmmmm.”

“It's an African Rooibos tea with a strong taste but no caffeine. It's my afternoon choice.”

“It's good.”

She took another sip, “I've invited Smythe here at six o'clock to discuss his offer for Webb's. Will you be here?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“I think it's a good opportunity to get enough information out of him to determine if he has an alibi that we can investigate. You know, where has he been? What might be at stake if he doesn't get everyone signed up? Anything we can find out.”

“Good idea. Do you want to be the good cop or the bad cop?”

She smiled. “Good cop, of course.”

Chapter 13

 

A
fter lunch, the class tackled one of the most difficult tasks for new students—choosing glass to use in the design. The green glass for the turtle had been supplied for their cutting practice, but they could choose the glass colors for the rest of the sun catcher panel. Savannah led them into the display room and pointed to the open faced vertical shelves that held three sizes of glass sheets.

“It's time to select the remaining glass so you can complete your turtle sun catcher project. The lowest shelf holds the full-sized 24x48-inch glass panels that are ordered directly from the manufacturer. The shelf above holds sheets sized no larger than 24x24 inches. The top shelf of vertical slots holds the smaller pieces of at least six inches square.”

Savannah motioned for the class to gather in front of the open shelving, “Now for the best two hints about selecting the glass you want to use for your project.” She pulled out a piece of opaque blue glass from the middle shelf. “Hint number one. Be careful. The danger is not limited to the piece you're trying to look at. The danger is in the edges of its neighbors. That's what will cut you. Arthur”—she grinned at him—“be careful. We're running low on Band-Aids.”

“Watch out for your neighbors.” Faith giggled and poked her sister in the ribs using short, little jabs.

“Stop that.” Rachel blocked her sister with a practiced elbow. “Only one of our neighbors is nice to us. Not many people will even talk to us anymore.”

Savannah spoke a little louder. “Hint number two. The glass is arranged by color in order from clear glass on the far end to black glass on this end. The patterns are placed in the slots according to the most dominant color in the glass sheet. If you keep your colors near the same tonal value, in other words, light goes with light, dark goes with dark, the entire work will look much better. In short, try to keep it simple.”

She placed the glass piece on a large, industrial light box that sat on a large worktable next to the checkout counter. She switched it on. The low buzz of fluorescent tubes accompanied the slender smell of burning dust. It flickered wildly, then stabilized to a soft white glow.

“The light box shows you how the sunlight would shine through this piece of glass. So, as you're choosing different colors and textures, check the way they look in combination. Go ahead and pick out your pieces. I suggest a medium panel for the major color and one or two small pieces for the accent or secondary colors.

“Please remember to switch off the light box after you've selected your glass.” She switched it off. “The bulbs are rather expensive and have to be special ordered. Go ahead and make your selections and remember to try lots of combinations.”

“Oh, how I love this part,” said Amanda as she began pulling various glass pieces out of the medium rack. She held them up toward the light coming through the front windows. “I think I'm going with a yellow, orange, and purple theme.” She selected three transparent panels and arranged them on the light table, then flicked the switch and the fluorescent light shined up through the light box to illuminate each piece. “How's this?”

Savannah looked over her selection. “I love this color palette, however, you have a complication here.” She ran her finger over the middle piece of glass. “The orange has a texture, or basically a bumpy pebble-like surface, on one side. If that's what you're going for—great, but it will make the copper foil and soldering steps a little more difficult to apply and achieve smooth edges because you'd have to accommodate for the uneven gaps between the pieces of glass. Are you sure?”

“Oh, yes. This is just the look that I want. Besides, if I run into trouble, you'll help me, right?”

Savannah smiled. “Of course. Let me measure this up and price out your glass.”

Before she could start, Arthur had chosen two panels that were from the same slot in the medium rack. “Are these okay, dear?”

Nancy sidled up beside him. “That's just beautiful, dear. It will match the bathroom décor perfectly, honey.”

“Good choice,” said Savannah. “Those complementary shades of green are all the same type of smooth glass. The sun should come through beautifully and there's a bonus. They are relatively easy to work with.”

She stepped back to give her students time to deliberate color and texture in their own space. She heard the bell on the door and turned to see Edward walking through with an old-fashioned thick white mug in each hand.

“It's time for tea, m'lady. Can you take a little break? I hope so. This is my afternoon special blend. It is not Earl Grey.”

Savannah toned down the huge smile she felt stealing across her face. “Yes, please.”

He ducked into the office and Savannah followed. “What did you find out about Frank?” Edward handed one of the steaming mugs of tea to Savannah. “He has a perfect motive and has been seen arguing with your dad for months.”

Savannah took the tea mug and brushed Edward's fingers, causing a flutter deep down in her. Ignoring it, she inhaled the gently rising steam and sipped. “What's this one?”

“It's a mild white tea with a hint of lavender. Just what you need. It's calming and restorative.”

“Where do you get these fabulous teas?”

“There's a local tea shop down on Beach Drive called Hooker's Tea. I get batch quantities from the owner and he occasionally features one of my blends. It's a nice hobby. When was the last time you walked around downtown? St. Petersburg has become quite a cosmopolitan city.”

“I haven't been down there in years. Dad and Hugh took me out to dinner the last time I was here a couple years ago. It's like a European village. I've missed so much. Sadly, I usually just flew in for a quick visit and then turned around back to Seattle.”

“You're going to be surprised and I'm the one who wants to surprise you. Let's have breakfast followed by a long walk downtown.”

“I'm so distracted right now.”

“How about on Sunday? You don't have classes. Say yes. Yes?”

Savannah masked her rising blush with another sip of the tea. “Breakfast? I love breakfast. It's my favorite meal. That sounds perfect.”

She turned around to gaze out the windows of the shop. “Back to your question. No. I did not find out anything about Frank. He's definitely hiding something because he got touchy and changed the subject when I asked him why he didn't come to the funeral. He was pressing me pretty hard to sell the shop to him and go back to Seattle.”

She glanced toward the custom workshop and thought about the large panel awaiting completion on the worktable. “I'm not sure that I'm up to this job. It might be better for the reverend's church panels if I turn it all over to Frank.”

“That's nonsense. You're talking rubbish.”

“Edward, be nice.”

“You don't need nice. You need a reality check.”

“But, I'm—”

“I've heard it all from John. You got a bleeding scholarship at Pilchuck Studios in Seattle. That studio is so famous they only dole out one a year. One. A. Year. There were thousands of applicants. Your dad and Hugh taught you everything they knew. You are perfectly able to complete the panels. Don't be daft, luv.”

Savannah smiled. “That's nice of you to say, but I'm of two minds about continuing.”

“Jacob is amazing. He's a big help and John said he was coming up to speed like no one he'd ever taught.”

“Right. I'm not thinking straight about this. I appear to be feeling sorry for myself.”

“You wouldn't be normal if you didn't.”

“I do need to hire a part-time worker to cover my lunchtimes. Rooney needs me to spend some time with him and I need a break from the shop.”

“What about Amanda?”

“Amanda? I thought she worked full-time at the nursing home.”

Edward shook his head. “Nope, she works part-time, day or night, I'm not sure. Primarily, she's her mother's caregiver so it's a good way to check up on the quality of care, but it isn't yet a burdensome occupation.”

“Would she really want to do both?”

“She would love it. She's been taking classes here for a couple years now, probably so she has somewhere to go that isn't full of folks who are dealing with terminal sickness. I don't know of anyone who cares as much about Webb's Glass Shop as she does. Well, except for Jacob.”

“I think that's a great idea. She would be great with customers as well.”
Am I crazy for hiring someone when I'm just planning on leaving? Do I actually want to stay? I worked my way up to a joint exhibit in Seattle. Am I going to give that up, can I
?

Maybe not, but she had to solve the murders before she left town, for her own safety and Jacob's.

“I'll ask her,” she decided, “though it may be very, very temporary.”

The front door bell rang and Savannah walked out into the display room to encounter two women dressed in white coveralls. “What's going on! Has there been a chemical spill in the neighborhood? What's wrong?”

“No, nothing like that.” said the taller woman. “Are you Miss Savannah Webb?”

Savannah nodded.

“I'm Sandra Grey, forensic investigator for the city of St. Petersburg and this is my assistant, Loraine Marshall.” She gestured back to a younger, shorter version of herself. She held out a small white business card with quiet authority.

Savannah took the card and ran her finger over the crisp embossed St. Petersburg Police Department icon and noticed the same icon on the sleeve of their coveralls. She looked up. “Why are—”

“We're here to search the workroom where the body of Hugh Trevor was found.”

“Oh, I see.”
They're taking this seriously now. Who is their prime suspect? Should I be worried?

“We'll need complete privacy. We ask that you please do not enter the room while we're collecting evidence.”

“Which is the room?” said Sandra, waving her hand between the custom workshop door and the entry to the classroom.

Savannah pointed to the custom workshop. “It's there. Hugh was found in that room. It contains an extremely fragile and expensive stained glass panel. Can I help?”

“I'm sorry. That's not permitted.”

“It's worth thousands of dollars and contains some very rare cathedral glass. It would be difficult if not impossible to replace any damaged pieces at this point.”

“We've worked around valuable works of art before. Don't worry. We'll be very careful around the panel.”

“I'm not worried about the panel. I'm worried that you might cut yourselves. There are shards everywhere. They can cause serious injury if handled improperly. Are you sure I can't help you?”

Sandra started toward the door. “We'll take extra precautions. Thank you very much for the warning.”

“When can we have the workshop back?”

“We won't be here long.”

“I've got a competitor who would love to take this vital contract away from me if he can prove to our client that I can't deliver.”

“We'll be as efficient as possible. If we need your help, I'll ask.”

She and Loraine walked over to the custom workshop and tried the door. It was locked.

Loraine nodded her head to Savannah. “On second thought”—she sent Savannah a friendly wry grin—“you could help out by unlocking the door.”

Savannah grabbed her dad's set of keys and found the one to the custom workshop. She unlocked the workroom and opened the door wide.

Sandra nodded her thanks. “By the way, we'll also need to take fingerprints of everyone who has been working at Webb's and also all of the students who have recently taken classes. We'll do that right after we've finished in here.” Sandra and Loraine stepped in and closed the door with a sharp snap.

Savannah felt Edward right beside her. He whispered in her ear. “I think this means that they believe you.”

She whispered back “Yes, and I think this also means that we should be worried. Very worried.”