Sew Deadly (27 page)

“Will it ever stop?” she said, the sudden influx of tears evident in her voice.

His hand, warm and strong, took hold of hers as they watched the car pass. “Oh, wait . . . never mind . . . that’s one of our cars. McGuire’s been driving his Tom’s Creek car.”

She forced her body to relax as they continued walking, his hand still entwined with hers. “How many cars does Sweet Briar have?”

“Two or three. Though we only have one officer—Chief Dallas. We had a part-time patrolman at one time but we just didn’t need him. It’s about as quiet as it comes here in Sweet Briar. At least it
was
.”

“So who’s driving the cars?” she asked.

“Probably Thomas. He seems to be doing that more lately, particularly at night.” Milo shrugged. “Perk of being married to the mayor, I guess.”

“Driving a police car is a perk?”

“Every little boy’s dream.” He flashed a smile at her as they walked, two dimples appearing in his cheeks.

“Even you?”

“Nah. I thought the garbage trucks were cooler.”

As they approached the library from the west he stopped and gestured toward a quiet residential street on their left. When she nodded, he turned in that direction, a move she couldn’t help but see as an intentional effort to elongate their time together.

“With Tiffany Ann’s death and everything I can’t help but think this town could probably use a few more officers, don’t you?” She reveled in the feel of his skin against hers, willed his steady confidence and positive attitude to seep through her skin.

“Nah. Stuff doesn’t happen here. Not usually anyway. And if Dallas needs help, then Tom’s Creek sends an officer.”

She pondered his words, a question forming on their heels. “Is that what we do for Ridge Cove, seeing as how they don’t have a police force at all?”

“They’re covered by county, which isn’t a good thing for anyone, even a place as dinky as Ridge Cove. The response time is pathetic.” Milo pointed at a pale yellow house on the left side of the road, a For Sale sign gracing its front lawn. “I love that place. I even checked it out with a realtor last week, and it’s even more charming inside.”

“Are you going to buy it?” She looked from Milo to the house and back again, his enthusiasm for the structure bringing a smile to her lips.

“I wish. But it’d be silly for a single guy like me. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with my place.” He pointed at a large tree in the front yard. “But can’t you just see kids hanging from that tree?”

“And breaking their necks?” Her laughter was met by a squeeze of her hand and a flush on her face. “But if there’s nothing wrong with your place why would you want to move?”

“To have a fresh start, I guess. A place where the only memories are ones to be made . . . now and in the future.”

They continued on in silence, the sound of their feet on the sidewalk the only noise to be heard as they retreated to their own private thoughts and dreams.

Finally she spoke, her words tumbling from her mouth at the very same moment the question formed in her thoughts. “So Ridge Cove would be better off receiving police coverage from Sweet Briar than from the county?”

“Of course they would. It would take far less time and from what I’ve heard they’d be in a lot better hands.” He looked down at her as they walked, his brows slightly furrowed. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I guess the guy made a smart decision.” Wordlessly they turned around at the end of the street and headed back toward their original destination, the sound of an occasional cricket peppering the air around them.

“What guy?”

“The guy who runs one of the flea markets in Ridge Cove.” She thought back to the sign over the store and the way customers had greeted him the moment they arrived. “I guess he’s Stu . . . of Stu’s Flea Market. I met him this morning when I went trunk searching.”

“Okay, so what decision did he make?” Milo pulled her hand closer as he guided her around a raised tree root that had buckled the sidewalk and created a potential tripping hazard.

“To buy police coverage from Sweet Briar.” She glanced at the home Milo wanted as they passed by it once again, the wide front porch and large front windows beckoning to all who passed.

She felt his hand release hers as he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, his eyes narrowed on hers in confusion. “Buy police coverage from Sweet Briar? Tori, you must have misunderstood. Ridge Cove can’t buy those kinds of services and Sweet Briar most certainly can’t sell them.”

“But Stu said—”

Milo shrugged and shook his head, his hand finding hers in the dark once again. “I don’t care what this guy said. It simply can’t be done.”

Chapter 19

She was grateful for the distraction painting afforded. It gave her a way to escape the troubling thoughts that plagued her subconscious and left her tossing and turning throughout the night.

Finally, just before dawn, she’d given up trying to sleep and made her way over to the library where she could make optimal use of her time. Still, she found herself wading through the past few weeks in Sweet Briar—the people she’d met, the gossip she’d heard, the experiences she’d had, and the conflicting things she’d learned.

While some had attributed Tiffany’s bizarre behavior during the final days of her life to drugs, others had dismissed the notion as absurd. While some were eager to see Tori for who she was, others seemed every bit as unwilling to consider her as something other than a murder suspect. While she’d thought she was building a solid friendship with Leona Elkin, Leona was simply humoring her, biding her time for something bigger. And in uniform.

Shaking her head, Tori forced herself to focus on Jennifer’s stained glass castle windows as she applied a splash of red and a splash of yellow paint. The room was coming out better than she’d dreamed. Quinton’s trees, which she’d used in several places throughout the room, enhanced the artwork of the other students. The varied colors and scenes drew the eye around the room, hinting at the many possibilities that could come from reading.

Yet she wasn’t happy. Not the way she should be after realizing a dream she’d had since childhood. But how could she be with everything that was going on around her on a daily basis—not the least of which was Milo’s contradictory statements regarding Stu’s claims?

“Oh, Victoria, this is—this is wonderful.” Rose Winters stepped into the room, Margaret Louise at her heels. “I had no idea you could—” Her voice trailed off as she set her glasses firmly onto the bridge of her nose and walked from mural to mural. “I had no idea you could make a room so . . . so wonderful. The children are going to love this, absolutely
love
this.”

Tori inhaled sharply, letting the subsequent outtake of air clear her mind of the incessant thoughts that had nagged and pulled at her for hours. “You really like it?”

Rose wandered around the room as she attributed the correct book to each and every picture Tori had painted onto the wall. “How could I not? How could
anyone
not?”

Tori stole a glance at Margaret Louise, a name burning on the edge of her tongue that could contradict Rose’s rhetorical question. The woman clasped her hands together, her head moving slowly from side to side.

“We tried your house first, but when you didn’t answer we figured you’d be here. Working. Can you take a break?” Margaret Louise asked as she ventured into the room and stopped between Tori and the window she was painting. “For just a little while? Rose and I would like to talk to you.”

“Sure, I guess.” She dipped the brush in a cup of mineral spirits and wiped it with a paint-spattered cloth. “I take it you talked to Dixie?”

“We did.” Margaret Louise looked around the room, her shoulders slumping. “No chairs?”

“Not yet. But by Saturday we’ll have a colorful assortment of beanbag chairs to choose from.” She knew her answer was bordering on ornery but she didn’t care. Dixie Dunn had gotten too much blind support when it was anything but justified.

“There’s a step stool right there, Margaret Louise, sit on that.” Rose made one last turn around the room before finding a stable enough table to lean against. “I heard what Lulu found in the shed and I want you to know how sorry I am. You deserved better than we gave you when you first came.”

Tori swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat that made it impossible to speak.

“I started to see Dixie’s part at that second circle meeting. And it was impossible to miss at the board meeting. If it matters any, I was disgusted.” Rose lowered her glasses a half inch and peered at Tori over the top rim. “And I let Dixie know that when we confronted her in her home yesterday.”

It was a start. Tori leaned against an unpainted section of wall and waited for more details, her mouth untrusting of what her heart might blurt out.

“She denied it all—taking the sticks, stealing your lightbulbs, hiding the library’s desk planner, all of it.” Margaret Louise eyed the stool for a moment before looking over her shoulder at her lower half and shaking her head, opting instead to stand against a wall as Tori did. “She even went so far as to say you planned it to make her look bad.”

Tori’s gasp was cut short by Rose’s hand. “We didn’t let her get away with it, Victoria, you must know that.”

“Good.”

“Though, in the end, we realized she was telling the truth.” Rose studied her from across the room, her eyes magnified to twice their size by the bifocals she wore.

Telling the truth?

They couldn’t be serious.

“You’re kidding, right?” she finally uttered. “She had my things in her shed. You heard what Lulu said.”

“We heard what Lulu
said
,” Margaret Louise stated.

“What she
said
? Oh . . . no.” She flashed a look of understanding at the child’s grandmother. “She seemed so sure she’d seen everything. Was she crushed to have you realize she was wrong?”

“She wasn’t wrong,” Rose said flatly. “Everything she saw was exactly where she saw it.”

“Then I don’t understan—wait. Tell me this isn’t going to be swept under the carpet because Dixie’s lived here her whole life.” She looked from Rose to Margaret Louise and back again. “This town can’t be that narrow-minded, can it?”

“We have eyes, Victoria. And we don’t shut them from things simply because we don’t want to see.”

“But isn’t that what you’re doing, Rose? By taking her word for something that’s as plain as the nose on my face?” She could hear the anger in her voice, knew it was getting out of control, yet it was hard to stop.

“Sometimes there’s more to the story.” Margaret Louise shifted her weight from one leg to the other. “An unexpected detail or twist that changes everythin’.”

“You mean like just how far she was going to take this before waving the white flag?”

Rose ignored her flippant comment. “It took a while but I think Dixie will admit she’s been overly hard on you. But she was hurt and angry at the way she was removed from her job.”

“She’ll
admit
that? Wow. I should feel so relieved.”

“Victoria, just hear us out.” Margaret Louise peeked her head into the hallway and then pulled it back in. “Is Nina here?”

“No, why?”

“Because this concerns her . . . or rather . . . her husband, Duwayne.”

“No, this doesn’t. I’m so tired of everyone handing Dixie Dunn a pass for her bad behavior. She was nothing short of nasty during the meeting the other night and—”

“And Leona called her on it,” Margaret Louise interjected.

“True. But even at the circle meetings she’s been more than a little unfriendly.”

“And I’ve spoken with her about that as well,” Rose said.

“And the things she stole? The way she has done her best to sabotage me since day one? Did you talk about those things?”

“We started to.”

“What stopped you, Margaret Louise?” Tori willed herself to take several long, deep breaths, to find a way to settle her heart and her stomach.

“The shed isn’t hers.”

She stared at Margaret Louise and then Rose. “The shed isn’t
hers
?”

“It’s Nina’s,” Rose said softly.

“Nina’s? It can’t—wait. Did you say,
Nina’s
?”

“Her property backs up to Dixie’s with a stretch of woods in between. Lulu assumed the shed belonged to Dixie but it really belongs to Nina and—”

“Nina? Nina has been trying to sabotage me? But wh—” And at that moment, she knew. Nina had wanted her job. Nina had been forced to remain the assistant librarian so she, Tori, could take the lead. “Oh no . . . how could I have missed that?”

“You didn’t.” Rose linked her arms across her sweater-clad chest. “It wasn’t Nina.”

Were they
trying
to confuse her?

Exasperated she pushed her hand through her hair, exhaling loudly. “But you just said the shed was Nina’s.”

“Nina and
Duwayne’s
,” Margaret Louise corrected.

“Nina and—wait. You think
her husband
stole everything?”

“We did. And now we know.”

She pinned Rose with a steady gaze. “You know?”

“We confronted that young man and he fell apart. Admitted the whole thing.” Rose nodded at Margaret Louise to pick up the story.