Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music (19 page)

“That's good. I don't like it either.” From the corner of her eye, Theo saw Tony and the doctor ease out the front door.

“See, we good friends now. Lots we are the same.” Katti looked into the old wood burning stove. “You cook here?”

“Sometimes.” Theo waved to the newer electric range. “We use this now.”

“All is good.” Katti checked drawers and cabinets.

“What did you do in Russia?” Theo rolled past her. “I mean, did you have a job?”

“I work factory build cars.” She frowned. “And I slave to bad man.”

“Slave?” Theo wondered if language might be a problem.

“Married bad man.” Katti nodded vigorously. “He die. I free. I poor. I lonely. I wear black. Here.” She waved her arms encompassing more than Theo and the room. “Here is color. Nice house. Nice husband. Nice. Wear pink. Wedding present pink car.”

“Very nice pink car.” Theo laughed and gestured toward the front door. “Will you take me to work?”

Katti drove with the top town. “Is beautiful day.”

Agreeing wholeheartedly, Theo gave her instructions guiding her to the shop.

They entered the shop like a whirlwind. Katti said she was excited to learn about quilting and fabrics. When Zoë, the office cat, peeked around the open door of Theo's upstairs studio, Theo saw Katti fall in love.

“What precious!” Katti sat on the steps and held her hand out to Zoë.

As if meeting a long lost friend, Zoë lunged into Katti's lap and meowed, kneading her toes on Katti's arm.

“I think you nice cat.”

Delighted Zoë had a new friend, Theo said. “I'm not allowed to clean her litter box. Will you do it for me?”

“Yes, yes. Me and cat, we clean.”

Katti's huge smile made Theo wonder if she understood the job. Cleaning a litter box didn't generally make anyone so happy. She watched from the corner of her eye. Katti did know the job and took care of it efficiently and with good humor. All the time, Zoë was nestled under one arm purring loudly.

Theo rolled to her new workspace, which was a part of the classroom. Tony had carried downstairs everything she'd packed and set it in a corner near a couple of banquet length tables. “Katti?”

Katti and the cat trotted in together. “We come.”

“You don't have to run.” Theo pointed to her sewing machine sitting on the floor. “Will you put it here?” Theo patted the table.

“Yes, yes.” Katti carefully placed the machine in the exact requested spot and dove under the table to plug it in. Following Theo's instructions, the woman soon had Theo's sewing area set up. Sewing machine, cutting mat, lights and supplies. Still, she never set the cat down.

“Thank you, Katti.” Theo was eager to start designing a new pattern. “Why don't you go explore in the shop? See if there is a fabric that sings to you like Zoë does.”

“Zoë?” Katti looked baffled. “What is Zoë?”

“The cat's name.”

Katti laughed as she trotted into the rows of fabrics. “Come Zoë, we make quilt.”

Watching them, Theo relaxed. Zoë had a new friend, and Theo felt like she would enjoy having a quilting slave, at least this one. Katti's enthusiasm was refreshing and contagious.

Tony took a side trip to Mr. Beasley's house before going to his office. Although it had been searched after the man's overdose was discovered, Tony believed there was something else to find. The calls to Blossom, the hints and rumors, while hardly evidence, did make him think of the connection between smoke and fire.

Was Mr. Beasley the town's loan shark? It wasn't the first time the rumor had been attached to his name. Rumors weren't proof. No one ever filed an official complaint about the man. There had never been a suggestion of him taking a baseball bat to a delinquent borrower. Maybe he was charging lower interest rates than credit card companies which would have angered them, not his customers. Tony opened the desk drawer again and stared at the contents.

Nothing had changed. They were still virtually empty.

The telephone rang, startling him. He checked the screen on the handset, hoping a name would show up. “Out of Area.” Tony waited for the machine to answer. After a series of beeps and the outgoing message, a woman's voice said, “Mr. Beasley, we received your check.”

Tony lifted the receiver. “Mr. Beasley can't come to the phone. This is Sheriff Tony Abernathy. May I ask your name?”

“I'm Elise Cantrell. I work for Children's Hospital.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Mr. Beasley sent us a large check for a donation, and I called to thank him for it. Is there a problem?”

Tony guessed what she was asking was if the check was a phony or stolen money. “I don't think so, Ms. Cantrell. Mr. Beasley is deceased.”

“Oh, no.” Ms Cantrell moaned like she was in pain.

Tony was curious. “Can you tell me when the check was written and the postmark on the envelope?”

“Yes, surely.” After a brief pause, she said. “The date on the check is October nineteenth. That was last week.”

Tony sighed. Relief washed through him. He guessed Mr. Beasley had put his affairs in order before overdosing himself. “And the postmark?”

“The same.” Ms. Cantrell's voice was subdued. “Is the check no good?”

“I would guess it is just fine. Would you please fax a copy of the check and the envelope to my office?” Tony leaned back in the chair. “Was there a note or a donation form of any nature with it?”

“Yes, a little handwritten note saying he hoped it would help.”

“Excellent. In your fax, please send a copy of the note and all your contact information.” Tony suddenly couldn't wait to get to his office, pick up the fax and visit the doctor. “I'll be in touch later today.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.”

“No, thank you.” If this settled the business with Mr. Beasley, he could concentrate on the obvious homicide of Scarlet LaFleur without trying to connect the two deaths. He felt like tap dancing down the sidewalk.

Theo looked up from the sewing machine, surprised at how quickly time passed. With Katti trotting around doing the leg work, Theo had solved problems, met with the sales representatives from two fabric manufacturers and eaten when she was supposed to.

After lunch she managed to read a whole chapter of a novel, taking a mental break from her designing. Lethargy struck about the same time as the chapter break, and she locked the brakes on her chair, propped her feet up and found a comfortable position. She slept for about an hour and a half.

Waking up refreshed, she cut fabric and had Katti arrange the geometric pieces on the flannel design wall.

“How it stay?” Katti seemed fascinated by the way there was no need for pins to keep the bits of cotton fabric in place.

“I really don't know. It has something to do with flannel being fuzzy.” Theo pointed to the fabrics in the upper left corner. “Will you switch those two?”

Katti did and stepped back.

Theo handed her a stack of squares. “You can use these to fill in the holes. It doesn't matter where you put them.” While Katti was busy with the project, Theo began straightening up her mess a bit. In place of the book she'd been reading, a six inch tall, green porcelain frog stared at her. It sat on its own lily pad. Theo studied it. The frog wore a crown that looked like real gold and was set with jewels, emeralds and sapphires. “Katti?”

“I come.”

Theo pointed to the frog.

“Oooh, is pretty.” Katti gently touched the crown with one finger. “Where you get?”

“I was hoping you might tell me.”

“Never see before.” Katti frowned. “You asleep. I go eat.”

Theo thought Katti looked worried. “It's okay. I think I can guess. Did you see a little old woman in the shop?”

“Yes, yes.” Katti held her hand at chest level. “Very small. I see her go out door.”

Miss Flossie. Theo explained the elderly woman's exchange policy. “I guess I get to keep the frog until Sunday. By the time I get my book back, I may have to start reading it all over.”

Carl Lee Cashdollar arrived in Tony's office minutes after Tony himself. The tall, thin attorney was the mayor's nephew. Not a particularly handsome man, Carl Lee looked somewhat the worse for wear this morning. Bloodshot eyes and a general appearance of fatigue were emphasized by the man's fresh tan.

“Welcome back.” Tony waved to the visitor's chair. “How was Hawaii?”

“It was lovely.” Yawning, Carl Lee covered his mouth with his hand. “But the time zone changes about ate me alive. I don't know whether to eat or sleep. I feel like crawling under my desk and taking a nap.” He reached into the leather case at his feet and extracted a large manila envelope marked with stamps and postal stickers. “This is for you.”

Tony took the envelope and examined it. From Mr. Beasley to Carl Lee. The envelope was mailed over a week prior, like the hospital donation. This envelope was fat and had required Carl Lee's signature. Tony dumped the contents on his desk. A separate small envelope addressed to him fell out, along with a copy of Mr. Beasley's will. Tony lifted it and looked at Carl Lee. “Tell me.”

“There's a large bequest to Blossom.” Carl Lee's smile was genuine. “She gets his house, the furniture, the car and a sizeable chunk of money.”

Tony thought it sounded fair. She deserved it. “And the rest? Blossom's been getting cranky calls from the relatives.”

“They won't like it, but the will's totally iron clad.” Carl Lee clasped his hands together. “His creditors, if you will, have their loans forgiven. The list is in my office. The folk museum gets a chunk of cash.” He hesitated. “And there's one more.”

Tony mentally braced himself. Carl Lee's expression was unreadable. Why was the man acting so weird? “What?”

A slight smile appeared on the attorney's face. “He bought a new vehicle for your wife.”

“No way.” Tony would never have guessed. “Why?”

The last of Carl Lee's composure cracked, and he starting laughing. “He said something about it being a way to irritate you at the same time he paid her back for what he called 'her many kindnesses.' He said every time you see it, you'll think of him.”

“I'm sure he's right about that.” Tony sliced open the small, sealed envelope. It detailed Beasley's plan to end his life. He handed it to Carl Lee. “Did you know what he'd planned?”

“No. I knew his health was failing, but he never indicated anything like this.” Carl Lee read through the note. “I think he timed it to arrive while I was out of the office.”

“Isn't a Tuesday afternoon a strange day and time for a wedding?” Tony buttoned the collar on his dress shirt, getting ready to add a tie. He was not going to wear his uniform to this event. With any luck, there wouldn't be a single crime committed on Mike and Ruby's wedding day. Tuesday or not.

“No stranger than having it on the back porch of Ruby's Café.” Theo fastened her necklace, then checked her appearance in a hand mirror. “Hey, it's Ruby's wedding, and she can have it anywhere she wants.” She fluffed her hair. “I have it on good authority it's so Dammit can be best man—or should I call him best dog?”

“You don't think she's marrying Mike so she gets half ownership of his monster bloodhound, do you?” Tony loved to tease Mike and Ruby about the dog. In fact, he himself was one of the dog's biggest fans. Dammit was always welcome in his office, drool and all.

Theo shook her head, but laughed softly. “As much as I'm looking forward to seeing the big dog dressed for a wedding, I'm even more excited to meet, even though unofficially, Ruby's little girl, Angelina.”

“I agree.” Tony knew what Theo's “unofficial” part meant. The girl had only been told part of the story. She didn't need to know, as least not yet, that Ruby was her birth mother. Or that her father stole her from Ruby and gave her to his family and told them to give her away. She didn't even need to know Ruby had named her Anna, not Angelina. One thing at a time. At least, according to Mike, the girl and her family were becoming friends with Ruby and him.

“Have you met the adoptive parents?” Theo hadn't and was intensely curious.

“Briefly,” said Tony. “Mike gave the whole family a tour of the station, including my office. They carried a few papers to be signed and notarized, so Ruth Ann and I obliged. Mike and Ruby are willing to make the adoption absolutely legal.”

“What did the family use before, like when they signed her up for kindergarten?”

“Don't forget, sweetheart, the family thought it was already legal. They were told the old lady had the right to find the girl a new home and family. The birth certificate was real.”