The Stitching Hour (19 page)

We ate in silence for a few minutes, each of us lost in our thoughts.

“I did ask Adalyn if Jared had any business dealings with Keira's dad,” I said at last.

“What was her response?”

“She said she didn't know, but then she started talking about Jared's plans for expansion.”

“We're already looking into whether or not Jared is working with Ken Sherman,” Ted said. “She said he'd been saving for this expansion?”

I nodded.

“I wonder if Jared is simply imagining the business he could possibly have someday, or if he's found an investor willing to make it happen.”

“Or
was
willing to make it happen,” I said. “Would Ken Sherman still want to help out Keira's boyfriend now that she's gone?”

I
was delighted to see Captain Moe stroll into the shop shortly after lunch. He boomed a hello to Angus, who romped over to greet him, and then he gave me a hug.

“I was in town visiting Camille and the baby, and I heard about your mother,” he said. “Is she all right?”

“I believe so. It was quite a scare.” I motioned for him to accompany me to the sit-and-stitch square.

“I'm sure it was.” He sank onto the sofa.

“The doctor told her to see a cardiologist when she gets back home, but she thinks Mom's heart is fine.” I sat on the red club chair I'd recently vacated.

“Good to hear, Tink.” He nodded toward the goodie bags. “For the upcoming celebration?”

“Yes. Will you be able to make it?”

“I'm afraid not,” he said. “I'll be working.”

I handed him one of the goodie bags with my compliments.

“Thank you very much.” He smiled. “Has it been a year already?”

“It has.” I chuckled, remembering the first time Angus and I met Captain Moe. “I met you on a Sunday . . . The diner was closed, and yet, you fed us anyway.”

“How could I not? Two wee strays . . . Well, one wee stray and a big furry beastie!”

Angus wagged his tail.

As we were laughing, the bells over the door jingled. I looked up to see Priscilla walking into the Stitch with a potted amaryllis and a DVD.

“Hello.” I was getting ready to introduce Priscilla to Captain Moe when he spoke.

“Well, as I live and breathe. Priscilla Morris! What brings you to Tallulah Falls?” He got up and crossed the room to give her a brief hug, which she awkwardly accepted.

“My husband, Claude, and I are running the Horror Emporium next door. You should come and check us out some evening.”

“I'll do that. How's Jim?”

She pressed her lips together into a thin line before answering. “You know my father.” She turned to me. “I have to get back and get ready for tonight's performance. I just wanted to drop these off for your mom. Tell her I hope she feels better soon.”

I thanked her and took the items from her. “I'm sure she'll appreciate your thoughtfulness very much.”

“Tinkerbell, I need to leave also.” Captain Moe gave me a hug and patted Angus's head. “Priscilla, I'll see you out.”

Outside on the sidewalk, Captain Moe and Priscilla spoke briefly before going in opposite directions. Captain Moe looked faintly troubled as he walked away. I turned from the window so he wouldn't think I was watching them.

I looked down at the DVD Priscilla had brought.
The Amazing Atwoods.
I shook my head. She was determined to audition for Mom.

The DVD didn't look like a top-notch professional production. I wondered how famous the Atwoods had been.

I went to the office and got my laptop. I did a search for the Amazing Atwoods. Some links advertising performances came up but not much more than that. I then searched for Claude Atwood and Priscilla Atwood separately. Again, not much turned up. And, from what I could see, it didn't appear the two had been performing but for the past two to three years.

Oh, well. The video would make for interesting postclass entertainment later tonight. Given the Atwoods' flair for the dramatic, I was looking forward to seeing what they did when they were full-out
trying
to put on a performance.

While there was a lull in customers coming into the Stitch, I called Alfred. His secretary put me right through to him.

“Marcy, dear, is anything the matter?”

“No . . . I don't think so.”

“Out with it.” Alfred Benton had put on his surrogate father voice.

I told him about Mom's trip to the emergency room. “I just need to know if anything like this has happened before. Is there anything I should know—anything she hasn't told me about?”

“Not that I'm aware of,” said Alfred. “My guess is that the stress of travel plus the heavy meal simply took its toll. I'll make sure she is seen by a cardiologist as soon as she returns to San Francisco. In fact, I'll have my secretary make the appointment.”

“No, please don't. She'll kill me for snitching on her.”

“Well, too bad.”

“At least, call and talk with her first,” I said. “For all I know, she's already called and made the appointment today.”

He deftly changed the subject. “How are preparations for the anniversary celebration coming along?”

“They're coming along well. I'm just finishing up the goodie bags. Sadie and Blake will be bringing over refreshments tomorrow.”

“Something delicious, I'm sure.”

“Some crudités, a cheese platter, some cookies . . . things like that. I wish you could be here.”

“I will be . . . in spirit, at least.” He chuckled. “I hate to rush off, my dear, but I have a meeting.”

“Okay. If there was anything you thought I should know about Mom, you'd tell me . . . wouldn't you?”

“You know I would.”

•   •   •

I took Angus home at five. I gave Mom her gifts from Priscilla and Nellie and told her how many people had been in to check on her.

“That's awfully sweet,” she said. “Had I been to the emergency room at home, no one would've known unless I didn't show up at work the next day . . . other than Alfred, of course. It seems Alfred knows just about everything. Even
he
had heard of my misadventure.”

“I'm sorry, but I needed to know if you'd had anything like that happen before,” I said. “I knew you wouldn't tell me because you wouldn't want me to worry, but Alfred would shoot straight with me.”

“It's all right. I just hate to cause him undue concern.”

Taking a page from Alfred's book, I changed the subject. “Check out this DVD Priscilla Atwood sent you. And, by the way, I don't think they're as famous as they let on. I did an Internet search for them, and it appears they've only been performing for a couple of years.”

“Or maybe they only recently adopted the stage names Claude and Priscilla Atwood.” She shrugged. “There's a famous story about Walter Matthau where he was credited for a cameo appearance in
Earthquake
using the name Walter Matuschanskayasky. Fans assumed this was Matthau's real name, but it wasn't. It was Walter Matthow. He changed it to Matthau because that was the current American spelling of the name. Incidentally, his nickname was Jake.”

“Okay. Well, maybe we can watch the DVD when I get home. Or you can go ahead and watch it if you'd rather.” She was obviously miffed at me for calling Alfred, so who knew what she'd do?

“We'll see.”

I fed Angus, grabbed a protein bar, and headed back to work.

•   •   •

Mom had texted me before class was over and told me she was tired and was going on to bed. Although I understood, I was a little hurt by it. Was her health worse than she'd led me to believe? Had even Alfred kept me in the dark about her true condition? Or was she merely in a snit because I'd called Alfred to tell him about her trip to the emergency room? I hated that we hadn't had much time together since she'd been here.

I called Ted and asked if he'd like some company. He said he'd love some.

He met me at the door with a slice of chocolate cheesecake and two forks. “You sounded a little down over the phone.”

“You always know how to make me feel better.”

We went on into his kitchen and sat down at the table in the breakfast nook. Ted's kitchen had a more modern decor than mine. The appliances were stainless steel, the countertops were dark gray granite, and the cabinets were a glossy black with silver handles. Skylights and recessed lighting over the island and a chandelier over the table kept the room from being too dark.

“Coffee?” he asked.

“Do you have decaf? I don't want it keeping me awake all night.”

“Of course.” He made the coffee, poured us cups, and then sat down at the table where we savored the cheesecake.

“This is fabulous,” I said.

“Thank you. I keep it on hand for the occasional bout of the blues.”

I smiled. I'd never known Ted to have “the blues.” He must've been referring to my blues.

“It's not that bad really. I just . . . Well, Mom isn't doing what I'd like her to do.”

“Parents. You do your best to raise them right, but you're never quite sure how they'll turn out.”

“Ha-ha. I missed her at the store today. I mean, I'm glad she was able to spend time with Vera and your mom, but I thought that at least we'd have some time this evening.” I explained how she'd seemed upset with me for calling Alfred.

“What's the deal with those two anyway?” he asked. “Lifelong friends only? Romantic spark?”

“I don't know. I've always thought Alfred would be perfect for Mom. Of course, he was married when Dad died. I think his marriage had been in trouble anyway, and it fell apart a few years after Dad's death. Neither he nor Mom ever remarried.”

“Have Alfred and your mom ever dated?”

“No . . . not that I know of. I did bring it up with her just the other night.” I lifted and dropped one shoulder. “She said they're afraid that if they'd date, they'd end up ruining their friendship.”

“Maybe. But it might be worth the gamble—don't you think?”

“
I
think so, yes. As for what Mom thinks . . . Who knows?” I took a bite of cheesecake and savored the rich, velvety chocolate. “And while I love being here with you, I'd really wanted to spend some time with Mom tonight. Priscilla brought over this DVD called
The Amazing Atwoods
, and I thought she and I would get a kick out of watching it together.”

“Sounds like a winner. Do they sing, dance, do a variety show?”

“I think it's some sort of magic act.” I shook my head. “I looked them up after Priscilla brought by the DVD but couldn't find much about them. According to the information I could find online, the two of them have only been performing—at least, as Claude and Priscilla Atwood—for the past two or three years. Did Priscilla mention to you or Manu that she's originally from this area?”

“Manu interviewed her, so I don't know. I can check her statement tomorrow to see. Why?”

“Captain Moe was in today, and he recognized Priscilla. He asked about her father. She didn't seem terribly friendly with Captain Moe and made an excuse to leave as soon as she'd dropped off the DVD and a flower for Mom.”

“Who doesn't like Captain Moe?”

“That's what I was wondering myself. It made me really curious as to what Priscilla's story is . . . and Claude's too, for that matter. Where are they from? Who are they really? And what are they hiding behind those outlandish outfits they always wear?”

By then, we'd polished off the cheesecake. Ted took our plate and forks to the sink, rinsed them off, and then put them in the dishwasher.

“They're personas,” Ted said. “I suppose we all are in a way. The Atwoods are just more obvious about theirs. Maybe Priscilla didn't want Captain Moe to blow her exotic cover. For the Horror Emporium to be a success, I believe that Claude and Priscilla feel they have to portray themselves as eccentrics. For Captain Moe to recognize her as a small-town girl might've been a threat to her facade.”

“You're ever so deep, Detective Nash.”

He sat back down at the table and took a sip of his coffee. “As for your mom, she might be scared. I don't think she'd intentionally hide anything from you, but she wouldn't want you to worry either. You know how that is. I've seen you do the same thing with her.”

“That's true. But that's different.”

“Of course it is.” He smiled. “Now about that video . . . you don't happen to have it with you, do you?”

“I don't, but I promise we'll watch it together soon.”

“Are you ready for Friday?” he asked.

“Yep. The goodie bags are all stuffed and in a basket in the storeroom. I'll put the basket on the counter Friday afternoon. The door prizes are finished, framed, and wrapped. And, I'm sure Sadie has the food under control.”

“No nervous jitters? No nightmares about your first party at the Seven-Year Stitch?”

“No . . . not really. I mean, no nightmares. Plenty of jitters. It sounds bad to say this, but I feel like the worst thing that could happen this year has already happened,” I said. “What could be worse than Keira's death?”

“Shhh. Don't jinx it.”

My eyes widened.

“I'm kidding,” he said.

“I know you really can't talk about it, but do you have any leads in Keira's murder?”

“We're still following the leads we have, but we do have a couple of new developments. I can tell you with the utmost certainty that vampire fangs did not make the puncture wounds in Keira's neck.”

“What about Detective Poston?” I asked. “Is he still on the case?”

“He is. Why?”

“I didn't care much for him. He was too abrasive.”

“I knew you didn't like him. That's why after the initial interview, we didn't have you talk with him anymore. Besides, you'd been with Manu and me. You weren't a suspect.”

“For a change.” I gave him a wry smile.

He lifted my hand to his lips. “Poston is currently investigating business owners who might be linked to Ken Sherman. We think one of those people might've killed Keira or know who did.”

“Including Jared Willoughby?”

“I've said too much already,” he said.

“I know. We should stop all this talking.” I leaned in for a kiss.