Thread Reckoning Page 5

  We moved around the body, and I unlocked the door. “This is such a shock. We need to contact Frederic, her son.” I went to the counter where I had Cassandra’s contact information. I gave it to Ted.

  He led me over to the seating area, where we both sat on the navy sofa facing the window. He took a small, clear plastic bag from his jacket pocket. It contained a blue velvet drawstring bag. “We found this near the body. It’s empty.”

  My eyes widened. The drawstring bag was just like the one in which Francesca had brought the gems I was going to use to adorn the dress. “She must’ve been afraid I wouldn’t have enough and had brought more.”

  “More what?” Ted asked.

  “More fake gems,” I said. “Francesca brought some yesterday to be put on Cassandra’s wedding gown. The robber must’ve thought they were real.”

  The abrasive woman entered the shop. “Where were you this morning, Ms. Singer?”

  “I was in bed asleep,” I said.

  “Can anyone verify that?” she asked.

  “Just Angus.”

  I saw Ted’s lips twitch.

  “Then can you have him come down here and give us his statement?” she demanded.

  “No,” I said. “He’s a dog.”

  “Then you’d better not leave town.” After glaring at me, the detective turned and went back outside.

  “What’s her problem?” I asked Ted.

  “She’s a rookie.”

  “Is she right?” I asked. “Am I a suspect?”

  He sighed. “At this point, I’m afraid everyone’s a suspect.”

  Chapter Five

  “Tell me what you know about Francesca Ortega,” Ted said.

  “Only that her son is engaged to Cassandra Wainwright and that Francesca gave the bride and groom some gems to embellish a vintage wedding gown I’m customizing for Cassandra,” I said. “I think Cassandra said the dress had belonged to her mother. Since you found that bag on the street, I guess maybe Francesca had more she wanted to include.” I closed my eyes and sank back into the sofa cushions.

  “I’d like to hug you right now,” he said quietly, “but that wouldn’t be wise.”

  “I know. The rookie wouldn’t like it.” I sighed. “And, once again, I’m back in the middle of a mess.”

  “It’s not that bad,” he said. “Maybe one of your neighbors will be able to verify that your Jeep was at home this morning.”

  “Maybe.” I began thinking about Mom . . . and San Francisco . . . and David. Maybe I should give David another chance. Maybe I should go back home. Maybe Tallulah Falls wasn’t the place for me after all.

  “Everything will be okay,” Ted said. “It always has been so far, right?”

  “So far,” I said. “Why does this keep happening to me? Is Tallulah Falls trying to tell me something? Like ‘go away’?” This was the third “accident”—okay, the first two were murders and this obviously was, too—to occur in or near my shop since I arrived a few months ago.

  “It’s a coincidence.” He gave my hand a quick squeeze. “I need to get back out there. Will you be all right?”

  I nodded.

  Before Ted could leave, David came rushing into the shop, followed closely by the rookie, whose name I didn’t even know yet. David’s face was ashen. Rookie’s face was grim.

  “Marcy, are you all right?” David rushed over and gathered me into his arms.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  “When I saw all those police cars and the ambulance outside your shop, I thought something terrible had happened to you.” He pulled away slightly to look at my face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. The victim was the mother of—Well, I knew her,” I said. “I think she was coming to see me.”

  “So you’d planned to meet her here?” Rookie asked.

  “Of course not,” I said. “If I’d planned to meet her, I’d have been here when she arrived.”

  David moved to sit beside me on the sofa. He placed his arm around me protectively. I was surprisingly okay with it under the circumstances.

  “Marcy, this is Detective Harriet Sloan,” Ted said. “Detective Sloan, this is Marcy Singer.”

  Detective Sloan afforded me a curt nod. “Why do you think she was coming to see you?”

  “As I explained to Detective Nash,” I said, “she’d brought some gems in a blue bag—like the one he found on the sidewalk—to me yesterday. She wanted me to put them on a dress I’m embellishing for her future daughter-in-law. I’m guessing she didn’t know what time the shop opened but that she wanted to bring some additional gems in case I needed them for the dress.”

  “I’ve called Ms. Wainwright,” Detective Sloan told Ted. “She and Mr. Ortega should be here soon.”

  Ted was looking curiously at David. “And, sir, you are?”

  “David Frist,” he answered.

  “He said he’s the shop owner′s fiancé,” Detective Sloan said.

  “You didn’t have to be so dramatic,” Ted said. “If you’re a friend of Mar—Ms. Singer′s—we′d have let you inside.”

  “I’m more than a friend of Marcy’s,” David said. “We were engaged once. If I have my way about it, we will be again.”

  Ted’s jaw tightened. “Where were you this morning between seven and eight o’clock?”

  “My hotel,” David said. He dug in his wallet and produced a receipt. “See? I was having breakfast.”

  Detective Sloan leaned over to peer at the receipt. “Pretty convenient. Having an alibi for the very time you’d need one.”

  David scowled at her. “I didn’t know I’d be needing an alibi. If I had, I wouldn’t have dined alone.”

  She lowered the corners of her mouth. “Good point. Still, don’t leave town.”

  “I don’t intend to,” David said. He looked at me. “Not without Marcy, anyway.”

  I knew Ted was looking at me, too, but I avoided looking at anyone. I simply stared down at the floor. I felt like I was in an episode of a soap opera. I had more drama in my life right now than I could handle.

  Or so I thought. Apparently, I was wrong. The rest of the cast was on cue to arrive.

  Todd and Sadie came sprinting through the door one right after the other. Todd had been a gentleman and had let Sadie go first. Still, he reached the sofa before she did.

  “Marcy!” Todd exclaimed, rushing to sit on my other side. He took my hand. “Sweetheart, are you all right?”

  Sadie wedged herself between David and me, flinging his arm away. She took my other hand. “Tell us what happened.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Detective Sloan said to me. “Are you queen of the Oregon coast or something?”

  “What’s it to you if she is?” Sadie asked sharply. “She’s our friend. And when we saw all the commotion over here, we were worried about her.” She turned back to me. “Say something, Marce.”

  I looked past them through the window to the street where I could see the crime scene technicians loading Francesca’s body into the ambulance. “It’s Francesca, the mother of Cassandra Wainwright’s fiancé,” I said. “Someone stabbed her and robbed her . . . right out there in front of my store this morning.”

  “In broad daylight?” Todd asked. “And no one saw anything?”

  “Not a thing,” Ted said. “No one reported any screaming. We had officers speak with people in the neighboring shops. No one heard or saw a thing . . . or, if they did, they’re not opening up about it.”

  Sadie nodded. “Some officers talked with Blake. I hadn’t gotten in yet. No one in MacKenzies’ heard a thing.”

  “How could she be attacked and not make a sound?” I asked.

  “The attacker killed her so quickly, she didn’t see what was coming,” Detective Sloan said. “He knew what she had, and he—or she—wanted it.”

  “What?” I asked. “You mean the fake jewels?”

  “We’ll be taking what you have here and having them appraised as soon as the techs finish up,” Detective
Sloan said.

  “You don’t think they’re fake?” I asked. “They were being put on a wedding gown, for goodness’ sake. No one but an actual queen would put real jewels on a wedding gown!”

  “Speaking of that wedding gown, we’ll need to take that with us, too,” Detective Sloan said. “Where is it?”

  “It’s in my office.” I stood and made my way through the maze of people gathered around me.

  Detective Sloan followed me to the office. I could hear the people in the shop talking in a hushed buzz of voices. It sounded like a muffled beehive.

  The dress form still stood on the stool. I’d finished two of the inserts yesterday. With the police confiscating the gown, there would be no way I could possibly get the embellishments finished before Valentine’s Day. I took the dress form off the stool and placed it on the floor. Then I unzipped the gown, removed it from the form, and handed it to Detective Sloan.

  “I have a garment bag for it,” I said. “Would you like to put it in that?”

  “Yeah. That’ll do for now,” she said. “I’ll need the gems as well.”

  I held the garment bag for Detective Sloan to lower the gown into. As she zipped the bag, I retrieved the gems.

  “Thanks for your cooperation.” She gave me that curt nod she was so adept at, and then she went back out into the shop.

  I considered crawling under my desk and hiding, but instead, I ambled back into the shop.

  “We have everything we need,” Ted told me softly, pulling me aside. “I’ll let you know what we find out as soon as I can.”

  “All right,” I said.

  “Why don’t you just close up shop and go home today?” he whispered. “You look tired. Have you eaten?”

  I smiled. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

  His eyes cut to the sofa. “Yeah, I guess you don’t need me to hover. You have enough people doing that.”

  “Don’t,” I said gently. “I’ll explain everything later. It’s not as nuts as it seems. Okay, right now it is, but . . .”

  He smiled. “Officers Moore and Taylor will be outside for a while. They’re waiting on Ortega. They’re to bring him to the morgue. Call me if you need me.”

  “I will. Thanks.”

  “Detective Sloan,” he called. “Let’s go.”

  I walked back to the sitting area where David, Sadie, and Todd were still ensconced on the sofa. They were all looking at me expectantly, and I didn’t have any answers. I sank onto the red chair. Tears threatened, but I didn’t dare let them fall. David, Todd, and Sadie would trip over themselves getting me a tissue. Don’t get me wrong. It’s wonderful to be cared about. But at that moment, it was a little suffocating.

  “I’m going to run next door and get you a latte and a muffin,” Sadie said. “Will you be all right while I’m gone?”

  I nodded. “That would be terrific. Thank you.”

  “Is there anything else you need?” Todd asked. “Is Angus all right?”

  “He’s fine. I put his breakfast outside before I left. By now, he’s probably napping on the porch swing.”

  Todd chuckled. “I’d like to see that. Want me to go get him for you?”

  I smiled up at him, my eyes brimming with those unshed tears. “Would you?”

  “Of course.” He gave me a quick hug. “Be back in a few minutes.”

  As soon as the door closed behind Todd, David said, “Thank goodness those two got out of our way.”

  “Got out of our way?” I asked. “They’re both going to do things for me. They weren’t in my way.”

  “I know,” he said. “That just came out wrong. Tell me what’s going on here. What happened to that woman? Why are they saying we can’t leave town until they’re sure of what happened to her?”

  “Because she was stabbed outside my store, and she and I have a connection,” I said. “You heard me telling the detectives about the wedding gown and the fake gems.”

  “Yeah, only they don’t think they’re fake. And apparently whoever stabbed the old gal on the sidewalk didn’t think they were, either.”

  My lips tightened. “Her name was Francesca. I barely knew her, but she wasn’t an ‘old gal.’ She seemed to be a very nice person.”

  The door opened so quickly, the bells barely had time to jingle before Cassandra swept into the shop with Frederic following in her wake.

  “Where’s my mother?” he asked. He clearly didn’t know she was dead. Poor man.

  “The ambulance pulled away with her about ten minutes ago,” David answered. “I’m really sorry, man.”

  “Two officers are waiting outside to take you . . . to her,” I said.

  Frederic looked at Cassandra. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait,” she said. “What about my dress?” She glanced at Frederic. “While we’re here, I might as well ask.” She turned back to me. “Have you gotten very far on it?”

  “I got the first two of the insets done, but the police confiscated it,” I said. “I don’t see how I can possibly get it finished in time if they don’t give it back today or tomorrow at the latest. I’ll return your retainer.”

  Cassandra huffed. “I can’t believe this! The accident didn’t happen in here. It happened on the street! And what does it have to do with my wedding gown? Why would the police take it?” She barked out a screech and shook her head. “They are not getting away with this. I’m going down there right now to give those people a piece of my mind.”

  “I need to see my mother,” Frederic said.

  “And the police will know where she is,” Cassandra said. “Marcy, I’ll be back with that gown. Count on it.”

  “My mother is lying somewhere in a hospital, and all you can think about is a dress?” Frederic asked.

  David and I shared a glance.

  Cassandra rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m concerned about your mother. But she’ll be fine. I only hope she can identify the jerk who did this to her.” She strode to the door and then stood until Frederic opened it for her.

  She stepped through the door, once again shaking out her mane of curls. Frederic stepped over to the area of the sidewalk blocked off by crime scene tape. There was some blood on the sidewalk, although not as much as one would think. It seemed more blood had pooled on top of the body than beneath it.

  “Don’t torture yourself!” Cassandra called to him.

  I slowly joined David on the sofa as Cassandra went to Frederic, took his arm, and pulled him in the opposite direction. She was speaking to him, and he was nodding his head. Hopefully, she was telling him they had to get to his mother.

  Officer Moore approached the couple and led them toward his patrol car.

  “Frederic doesn’t know,” I said softly.

  “No, he doesn’t. They must’ve only told him that his mother had been mugged.” David put his arm around me again. It felt so familiar that I just let myself lean into it. “I’m just glad you’re okay. If you’d have come in early or something, that could’ve been you.”

  “Thanks for being here.”

  He kissed the top of my head. “I want to be here for you forever.”

  I closed my eyes, blocking out the image on the street . . . trying to block out the image of Frederic looking at the spot where his mother had lain. “Poor Frederic. Poor Francesca.”

  Sadie returned with a vanilla latte with a hint of cinnamon and a pumpkin muffin. “Where’s Todd?”

  “He went to get Angus,” I said.

  “Oh, that was sweet of him,” she said.

  “Wasn’t it?” I said, and gratefully accepted the latte and the muffin. “And this was sweet of you. Thank you.” I went on to explain about Cassandra and Frederic coming in after she and Todd had left. “They think Francesca is in the hospital.”

  “You mean, they don’t know?” Sadie asked.

  I shook my head and bit into my muffin.

  “That’s awful,” she said.

  “And what’s worse,” David said, “is that the bride was way more inter
ested in her gown than in her fiancé’s mother.”

  I nodded. “She said she’d be back here with the gown today. She was outraged that the police had confiscated it.”

  “This whole thing is weird,” Sadie said, settling back against the cushions of the navy sofa opposite David and me. “The attacker apparently knew what he was doing in order to kill that poor little woman with one blow, and he believed whatever she had was worth killing her in broad daylight for. And not just in broad daylight, but during a really busy time. Do you know how many people are in and out of the coffee shop between seven and eight o’clock in the morning?”

  “I do,” I said. “Well, not really, but I imagine there are a bunch.” I sipped my latte. “That was a really huge risk, wasn’t it?”

  “Enormously huge,” Sadie said.

  “Maybe it wasn’t a robbery, then. Maybe it was something else.” I shrugged. “Maybe there was some sort of hit out on Francesca.” I frowned and shook my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Who could that sweet old lady hurt or make angry enough that they’d want to kill her?”

  “Her daughter-in-law, maybe?” David spread his hands. “I’m just saying that woman is one I’d definitely want to steer clear of.”

  “As much as I hate to agree with you,” Sadie said to David, “I agree with you. Cassandra Wainwright is bad news.”

  “Still,” I said, “I don’t think she’d put a contract out on her mother-in-law.”

  “No,” Sadie said. “I believe that if Cassandra wanted to kill someone, she’d just do it herself.”

  I’d finally convinced both David and Sadie to go and let me get some work done. Todd had dropped off Angus but then had to go to work himself. He said he’d check on me later—the same thing David and Sadie had promised. I needed to call Mom sometime today and let her know about the latest misadventure surrounding the Seven-Year Stitch. And I knew she’d be curious to know what was going on between David and me.

  It had been a busy morning in the shop. Many were my normal customers, but some newcomers came in to try to get inside information on Francesca Ortega.

  Not having the dress to work on, I had resumed work on the Kuba cloth quilt. I was alone in the sit-and-stitch square when Ted and Detective Sloan returned to the shop. I set the quilt aside and stood to greet them. Or rather, I rose to greet Ted.