The Stitching Hour (11 page)

A
fter talking with Mom, I got to thinking about Keira and her obsessive behavior over Todd. I gave Todd a call.

“Hi,” I said when he answered. “Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Sure. What's up?”

“When you dated Keira . . . what was she like?”

“I didn't go out with her but a time or two, and you
know
what she was like,” Todd said. “I hate to speak ill of the dead, but Keira had problems. She was insecure, clingy. . . . Notice I'm
not
saying nuts.”

“I did notice that.” I told him about Jared Willoughby's visit to the Seven-Year Stitch the day before. “He said she was a better person than everyone realized but that he couldn't deal with her immaturity and negativity, so they broke up. He moved on quickly—Ted and I saw him at dinner last night with one of the actresses from the Horror Emporium.”

“Oh, I can imagine how happy Keira would have been had she known Jared was dating someone who worked right up the street from her,” said Todd.

“Do you think she knew?”

He barked out a laugh. “Of course, she knew. She made it her business to know everything about every guy she was interested in . . . and about every girl
he
was interested in.”

“I guess you're right. By the way, Riley and I went to the Stitch today. As we started to leave, we saw Ken Sherman yelling at Blake. He apparently blames Blake for Keira's death.”

“Ken Sherman is probably blaming everyone except himself for his daughter's death. I don't know much about him, but he strikes me as that kind of guy.” He paused. “I did talk with Blake, and he was planning on confessing everything to Sadie. He swore to me that there was nothing between him and Keira except a business relationship.”

“I know,” I said. “And I believe that's true. But he still went behind Sadie's back, and that'll take her a while to get over.”

“You don't think Sadie suspected there was anything going on between Blake and Keira before Detective Poston put the thought into her mind, do you?”

“No. I believe she'd have come to me if she had. Friday morning, she was so hurt.”

“I'd hate to think she killed the competition.” He chuckled, but there wasn't his usual teasing warmth in the laugh. “Hey, I need to go. I'm picking Audrey up in half an hour.”

“All right. Have fun.”

I shook my head as I ended the call. There's no way that Todd Calloway would even
consider
that Sadie had something to do with Keira's murder. He knew better . . . and he
had
laughed. I was just being touchy.

So I was back to where I'd begun when I'd sat down—who
had
killed Keira and why? I mulled over everything that had happened and everything everyone had said. I wondered if Captain Moe knew more about Ken Sherman than he'd been at liberty to say in his crowded restaurant Friday night.

I called Ted.

“Hi, babe,” he said. “I'm heading your way in just a few minutes.”

“I wanted to ask you if you'd mind my asking Captain Moe to join us for dinner.”

“I don't mind in the least, but I would like to know what you're up to, Inch-High.”

I explained my feeling that Captain Moe could probably tell us more about Ken Sherman here than he could at his restaurant. “And since Riley and I heard Mr. Sherman shouting at Blake today in the alley behind MacKenzies' Mochas, I'd like to know more about the man.”

“You and Riley just happened to be lurking in the alley?”

“No. We'd gone to the Stitch to count the key rings. There were four hundred ninety-seven in the box.”

“Good to know,” he said. “If Christine Willoughby is innocent, then who was trying to set her—or you—up with that key ring?”

“That
is
the million-dollar question. And
why
runs a close second.”

•   •   •

By the time Ted got to my house, I had oven-fried chicken baking, a tossed salad chilling in the refrigerator, green beans on the stove, and a turtle cheesecake thawing on the counter.

He gave me a kiss. “You sure have been busy.”

“Does the house look okay? I cleaned before I began cooking. I gathered all of Angus's toys and put them in his basket in the living room, I mopped the kitchen, I—”

He silenced me with another kiss. “Everything—especially you—looks wonderful.”

“Thanks. After all that cleaning, I had to shower and change, of course.” I reached up to make sure my hair was dry. It was slightly damp but almost there. It occurred to me that I hadn't gone on my cleaning frenzy before inviting Riley over. But, then, Riley visits often. Captain Moe had never been to my house before.

“Is there anything you need for me to do?” Ted asked.

“You could tell me that Keira's killer has been arrested and that he or she gave a full confession and the case is closed.”

“I wish I could, sweetheart. I'm working on it.”

I rested my face against his broad chest. “I know.”

He dropped a kiss on my head. “In the meantime, try not to worry so much.”

“Easy for you to say.”

“Actually, it's not. I want to find this killer every bit as much as you do.”

“Let's hope Captain Moe can at least give us a little bit more insight into Ken Sherman,” I said.

“I've only seen the man a time or two—when he's come into the station to talk with Manu—but there's something about him that gets my guard up. For one thing, he seems more angry than grief-stricken about his daughter's homicide,” he said. “I know anger is one of the stages of grief and all, but something strikes me as not being quite right about that guy.”

“You don't think . . . maybe
he
had something to do with Keira's death, do you?”

“I don't think he'd hurt his own daughter. Plus, he has an alibi for the time of her murder. But I wouldn't be surprised to learn that Ken Sherman has his fair share of enemies.”

“Most powerful businessmen do,” I said.

The doorbell rang.

“That must be Captain Moe.” I hurried to the front door to find that I'd been correct in my assumption.

“Hello, Tinkerbell!” His voice boomed into the entryway and beyond as he handed me a bouquet of mixed fall flowers. “Thank you again for inviting me to dinner this evening.”

“We're glad you accepted. Ted's in the kitchen. Come on back.”

Ted and Captain Moe exchanged pleasantries while I put the flowers in a vase and placed them in the center of the table.

“Where's my friend Angus?” Captain Moe asked.

“He's in the backyard,” I said. “He's been playing hide-and-seek with a squirrel for the majority of the afternoon. I'll bring him in to say hi after dinner.”

“What're you drinking, my good man?” Ted asked.

“What've you got?”

Ted listed off the beverages we had, and Captain Moe settled on peach tea.

“I'll have the same,” I said as I took the chicken out of the oven.

“This looks great, Tink. You've outdone yourself.”

“Thank you. That's high praise coming from the best chef in Depoe Bay.”

“Aw, I wouldn't say that,” said Captain Moe. “I won't object if
you
say it, I just won't say it myself.”

We all laughed.

I finished putting the food onto serving platters and placed them on the table. I did one last check to see if we needed anything else before we all sat down.

“I had lunch with Riley today,” I told Captain Moe. I explained how she and I had gone to the Seven-Year Stitch to count the key rings left in the box I'd ordered.

“That sounds like Riley. When she gets something on the brain, she has to know immediately. So how many were in the box?”

“Four hundred ninety-seven. That accounts for the one I gave to Christine Willoughby, and as for the two others . . .” I shrugged. “Either someone came in and took a couple while the box was sitting on the counter, or the factory shorted me.”

“I doubt the factory shorted you,” said Captain Moe. “If it's a reputable company, they know it would come back on them if they didn't provide what they'd promised.”

“The captain's right. Most factories have quality-control systems in place to ensure the customers get what they pay for.”

“So now we just need to figure out who took them and why,” I said. “We don't know whether someone is trying to set up me or Christine, or if it was simply a coincidence that a Seven-Year Stitch key ring was found with Keira's body.”

“Captain Moe, you mentioned Ken Sherman the other night,” said Ted. “How familiar with him are you?”

Captain Moe inclined his head and didn't look up from the chicken breast he was cutting. “I don't know him all that well, but I've heard plenty of rumors.”

“You think it might be one of those
where there's smoke, there's fire
type things?” Ted asked.

Captain Moe met Ted's eyes and nodded. “I don't think Ken Sherman is someone I'd care to do business with.”

“What kinds of things have you heard about him?” I asked.

Captain Moe savored a bite of the chicken. “This is delicious, Marcy. Thanks again.”

Marcy. Not Tinkerbell. He's dodging the question.

Ted ate a forkful of green beans. I got the impression that I shouldn't ask anything else about Ken Sherman . . . that Captain Moe would tell us whatever he wanted us to know if and when he felt like it. But I also resisted the urge to change the subject.

After a couple of minutes of eating in companionable silence, Captain Moe said, “I've heard he launders money for a drug dealer.”

Ted was reaching for his glass and nearly knocked it over. “What?”

“Ken Sherman,” he said. “I've heard that those businesses he franchises are fronts for money-laundering operations.”

“That's why he doesn't really care whether or not they succeed,” I said.

“Right,” said Captain Moe. “Although I don't think that was his initial plan for the MacKenzies' Mochas franchise—and I'd hate for it to get out that I'd said such a thing. I have no way of knowing whether or not the rumors are true. And you said he was opening the coffee shop for his daughter.” He shrugged.

“Your secret's safe with us,” said Ted. “We won't tell a soul. But I will discreetly look into Mr. Sherman's business operations. I mean, we're doing that anyway, but I'll look a little closer now to see whether or not Mr. Sherman might have had an enemy who could have hurt Keira to get back at her father for some reason.”

“Just be careful.” Captain Moe took a drink of his tea. “As I told you, I don't
know
anything, but I've heard that some of the people Ken Sherman deals with aren't very nice.”

“When Riley and I were leaving the Stitch today, we heard Mr. Sherman yelling accusations at Blake MacKenzie,” I said. “It seemed he was blaming Blake for Keira's death.”

“Then that's another lead for our fine detective to pursue, isn't it, Tink?”

I smiled, glad we were back to my nickname and that the conversation appeared to have lightened. “Indeed it is. You know, sometimes you sound just like your niece.”

He laughed. “Hopefully, some of the lessons her father and I taught her served her well.”

“Are you going to see the baby while you're in Tallulah Falls?” I asked.

“Now, do you honestly think I'd miss an opportunity to see wee Laura?”

“No, I don't believe you would.”

•   •   •

After Captain Moe left, I was tidying up the kitchen when Ted came up behind me and snaked his arms around my waist. He kissed my shoulder.

“Thank you for dinner. It was terrific,” he said.

“Thank you for walking Angus after he ate,” I said. “He'd have been content to go back out into the backyard and squirrel hunt, you know.”

“I know, but it was starting to rain, and it's time for little doggies to get settled in for the evening.”

I laughed at his calling Angus
little
. “You're good with him.”

“He's good with me.”

I turned in his embrace. “You're good with me too.”

We kissed, and then I took Ted's hand and walked into the living room. Angus was already snoozing in front of the hearth.

“I think Captain Moe's visit tired him out,” I said as Ted and I snuggled on the sofa.

“The good captain certainly gave me a few new leads to pursue.”

“So you really think Ken Sherman might be laundering money for some drug dealer?” I asked.

“It's entirely possible. And it would explain the start-up businesses that he doesn't seem to care whether or not they fail.”

I ran my fingers lightly over Ted's hand. “But how will you be able to confirm that? It's not like Mr. Sherman will have accounts labeled
JOHN BROWN, DRUG DEALER
.”

“We'll simply have to investigate all of his clients to make sure they are who he says they are,” Ted said.

“And how will you do that without Mr. Sherman becoming suspicious?”

“I haven't figured that one out yet.”

I took a deep breath.

“What's really on your mind?” Ted asked.

“Blake . . . and Sadie. You don't think Blake
knew
Ken Sherman is laundering money for a drug dealer, do you?”

“Sweetheart,
we
don't know that Ken Sherman is laundering money for a drug dealer. Right now, it's purely conjecture.” He gave me a gentle squeeze. “That said, I don't think Blake would've volunteered the MacKenzies' Mochas logo to someone planning to open a franchise used to launder drug money.”

“I don't either,” I said. “But I'm worried about their financial situation. They took on the extra work with the Horror Emporium. Blake obviously wanted to pursue this business venture with Keira and her dad. . . . I can't help but wonder how far they are in the red and how far they—or, at least, Blake—would go to get them into the black?”