Deadly Greetings (Book 2 in the Cardmaking Mysteries) (24 page)

I looked at my aunt. “I don’t believe that
for a second, do you?”

To my surprise and Sara Lynn’s shock,
Lillian said, “Actually, I’m delighted by that telephone call.”

“
What? Why on earth would a
death threat make you happy?” Sara Lynn was watching Lillian as if
she were on fire.

“
It means we’re on the right
track looking into Maggie’s death,” she said. “Why else would
someone threaten to kill us?”

“
And you call that
progress,” Sara Lynn said, shaking her head. “Do you two have a
death wish?”

“
No,” I said. “We want to
see justice for our friend, though.”

“
Bradford ruled it an
accident,” Sara Lynn protested, obviously uncomfortable with the
direction our conversation had taken.

I shrugged. “Sara Lynn, nobody on earth is a
bigger fan of our brother than I am, but he can’t be right a
hundred percent of the time.”

“
Then we should call him
right now,” Sara Lynn said, reaching for the telephone.

Lillian wasn’t about to let go of it,
though. “Let’s think about this. If we get Bradford over here this
late, he’s going to make us leave, and we haven’t finished the job
yet, have we?”

“
What about that threat?”
she asked.

“
Nobody’s going to attack us
while we’re here together. It was meant to scare us off. I say we
stay. Jennifer?”

I nodded my agreement. “I want to finish
this tonight more than ever. If there is something here that the
killer missed, what are the odds it will still be here tomorrow if
we have to come back?”

Lillian nodded. “I hadn’t considered that
possibility.” She turned to my sister and said, “Sara Lynn, we
certainly won’t hold it against you if you want to go home now.
This isn’t your fight, and there’s no reason you should stay if you
feel you’re in danger.”

“
I’m not going anywhere,”
Sara Lynn said, the Shane stubborn streak out in full force. “I
just thought it might be prudent to call Bradford, but you’re
probably right. So let’s see what else we can uncover.”

I wasn’t about to comment on that
declaration. If Sara Lynn wanted to join us in our search, it was
her right and she’d be most welcome. I had to wonder, though, if a
part of her would rather be at home instead of sorting through a
dead woman’s things.

We had the kitchen cleaned in record time,
and after a short break for coffee and cookies, it wasn’t long
before we were in the living room, the last place we hadn’t fully
searched yet. Outside on the front porch there were three distinct
piles of boxes, but if there was anything all that incriminating
still inside, either we’d missed its significance or we hadn’t
gotten to it yet.

As we worked, Sara Lynn stood in the middle
of the room, a large frown on her face. “What’s wrong?” I asked
her. “You look like you just ate a bad turnip.”

Lillian said, “Is there such a thing as a
good turnip?”

“
Shh,” Sara Lynn said.
“Something’s not right.”

I stopped packing books in a box and
listened intently. “I don’t hear anything.”

“
It’s not a noise, you nit.
Something’s missing, though.”

“
It’s the most recent
scrapbooks,” Lillian said. “We’ve already been over
that.”

Sara Lynn’s expression suddenly changed.
“Where is all of Maggie’s equipment?”

I had to hand it to my big sister. Lillian
and I had been all over the house, but not once did either one of
us notice that everything Maggie used to make scrapbooks and
greeting cards was gone.

“
How did we miss that?” I
asked Lillian.

“
I could claim old age, but
I won’t,” my aunt said. “I simply overlooked it.”

Sara Lynn looked pleased by the admission.
“It’s a lot harder to spot what isn’t here than what is.”

“
So where did it go?” I
asked. “I don’t know how much equipment and supplies she bought
from you, but I know I’ve sold her a ton of stuff
myself.”

Sara Lynn nodded. “Yes, Maggie always was
one to buy a better tool whenever it came along. I can’t imagine
anyone stealing her things, though.”

A sudden chill went through me. “Unless it
was another card maker,” I said.

“
It could have been a
scrapbooker,” Sara Lynn said, obviously trying to make me feel
better.

I shook my head. “No, you said it yourself
before. Maggie still enjoyed scrapbooking, but she’d been focusing
mostly on cards for the last few years.” Lillian said, “I’m afraid
you’re right, Jennifer. It appears that whoever killed her was most
likely a card maker as well. Why else steal the most valuable items
in the apartment? Who else would even realize it? I suppose the
real question is, who would be desperate enough to kill her for her
tools?”

I shook my head. “You’re not seeing it
right. The tools were a bonus. The real reason had to be something
else. Like jealousy.” I was thinking of Betty or Howard, two of my
favorite card makers in the world, Lillian said, “Wait a second,
maybe we’re jumping to a conclusion the killer wants us to. What
better way to divert suspicion than to point it in an entirely
different direction? Let’s say that Jeffrey Wallace killed her.
Wouldn’t it make sense that he’d try to point the blame toward
another part of her life? There are lots of card makers we could
suspect, but if we focus solely on those, we’d miss him
entirely.”

Sara Lynn slumped down onto the couch. “So
we’re back where we started from. I don’t know how Bradford does
this. It’s impossible, isn’t it?”

“
No, but it’s not easy,” I
admitted. “We do know one thing we didn’t before.”

Lillian said, “If you mention those missing
scrap-books again, I’ll scream, I swear it.”

“
Besides those,” I said.
“Whoever killed her came on to this house and tried to cover their
tracks. We can’t be sure which thing we discovered is significant,
or even if any of them are, but we do know one thing: Maggie was
surely murdered. Why else would anyone try to cover it
up?”

“
So now it’s time to call
Bradford,” Sara Lynn said after a few moments of silence between
us. “He’ll know what to do.”

Lillian shook her head. “We don’t have
anything to give him that’s concrete, and if anyone in the world
should know what a pragmatist he is, it should be you.”

“
I do, believe me, I do,”
Sara Lynn said. “I don’t know what good we accomplished here
tonight, but at least Maggie’s possessions have been sorted and
boxed. What should we do with the few boxes of keepsakes? I don’t
care if anyone goes through the other boxes, but what’s left is all
of Maggie’s memories.”

“
Let’s bring them back
inside and lock the door,” I said. “Lillian, would you call the
Salvation Army tomorrow and have them pick up the clothes? I’ll
call somebody about the trash.”

She nodded. “And I’ll take Maggie’s personal
items to Patrick tomorrow when I return the key to him. They’ll be
fine here in the meantime.”

The three of us walked outside together into
the night. Sometime while we’d been inside it had started to rain,
and everything glistened from the streetlight’s illumination. It
was getting colder—there was no doubt about it—and soon enough the
rain would turn to snow. I saw a movement down the street, and for
a second I could swear I saw someone peeking out from behind the
bushes. Was it my imagination? Were we were being watched, or was
someone just out for a late-night stroll? I started walking in that
direction when Lillian asked, “Jennifer? Where are you going?”

“
I thought I saw someone,” I
said, but by the time I got there, either she was gone, or more
likely, she’d never been there in the first place. It was amazing
what my imagination could do when I was tired.

“
Is anyone there?” Sara Lynn
called out.

“
No, I probably just
imagined it.” I started to look for my Gremlin when I remembered
I’d ridden over with Lillian. “Would you give me a ride back to my
car?”

“
I can take you home, if
you’d like,” Sara Lynn said.

“
Thanks, but then I’d be
stranded in the morning.”

Lillian said, “I’ll take her. Thank you for
your help, Sara Lynn. You were a real asset tonight.”

My sister nodded. “I was glad to do it.”

Then I remembered what had brought Sara Lynn
to us in the first place. “Listen, all I’ve got is a couch, but
you’re welcome to it.”

Lillian piped up. “I can do better than
that. I’ve got a guest bedroom just begging to be used.”

“
Thank you both, but I’d
better get back home,” Sara Lynn said. “It appears I might need to
get used to being alone.”

After we saw her safely to her car, Lillian
and I drove through the deserted streets of Rebel Forge toward the
shop. I’d parked close to the front, something I hardly ever did
when we were open for business, but for once I was glad I was under
a streetlight and not tucked away in the alley behind the shop.
“That was a productive evening, wasn’t it?” Lillian said.

“
I’m still not sure what we
discovered, but we’re better off than we were, so that’s
something.”

She patted my arm as she pulled in behind my
car on the deserted street. “Have faith, Jennifer. We’ll get to the
truth sooner or later.”

“
I hope you’re right,” I
said. “Good night, Lillian, and thanks for everything.” She looked
up at me through her open window. “Jennifer, I should be the one
thanking you. Since you brought me into your shop, my life’s been
full of excitement just when I thought I was going to be consumed
by boredom forever.”

“
That’s me, never a dull
moment,” I said. “I’m glad you’re working with me, too.”

After she drove away, I could swear I felt
someone’s gaze on me. There was a creepy feeling on the nape of my
neck, and I fumbled my car keys trying to get inside. As I raced
away, the feeling left me, but I still didn’t stop rushing until I
was safely upstairs, locked in on one side with the world on the
other.

As tired as I was, I couldn’t just go to
sleep. Not only was I wired from the massive amounts of coffee we’d
put away, but I was truly filthy from working. A shower was in
order if I was ever going to go to sleep. Unfortunately, it only
woke me up more. I paced around the place, wishing I could get some
sleep before another big day tomorrow. The clock read just after
midnight. Maybe some chilly night air would help. I wrapped my wet
hair in a towel and opened the window onto the small porch. It was
too cold to go out there, but I enjoyed the sudden chill when I
poked my head out through the window. I rested my forehead on the
sill, and I could feel myself start to drift when Oggie jumped on
my back, something he liked to do occasionally and a habit I
couldn’t break him of. I pulled my head back as a reflex, and less
than a second later, the window crashed down, jarring the glass
with the force of its impact against the jamb. It shook me; I
couldn’t deny it. “Did you cause that, or did you just save me?” I
asked him as I stroked his fur.

He sneezed once and squirmed out of my grip,
a “no comment” if ever there was one. I looked at the window again,
lifted it and tried to see if it was at all loose. The odd thing
was that it took both hands to lower it once it was open. So why
had it fallen unbidden? Was it a warning from Frances that I was in
danger, or was she trying to kill me? Either way, I wasn’t happy
about the message. Before I’d risk my neck out that particular
window again, I was going to saw off my broom and use the shaft to
hold it open. My heart was still furiously pumping a few minutes
later as I curled up on the couch. As I sat there with a single
small table light illuminating the room, I thought about reading or
watching television, anything to take my mind off the world and get
some rest. I was still considering the possibilities when I heard
someone outside my door. Go away, I thought to myself. It could
only be Jeffrey or Barrett, and I wasn’t in the mood to talk to
either one of them at the moment. Then I heard a drunken voice, and
I was suddenly wishing for either one of my neighbors. “Jennifer,
let me in. We need to talk.”

Should I answer Wayne, or pretend to be
asleep? That fiction died soon enough as he slammed the door with
his fists. “Let me in, or you’ll regret it. You know you want to
see me. Admit it.” He hit the door again, this time hard enough to
shake it on its hinges. Though Ethan had pronounced the lock solid
and the door secure, I knew it could only stand so much of such a
fierce assault, so I shouted, “Go away, Wayne.”

“
Good, you’re up. Now open
the door so we can have a party.” He pounded on the door again, and
I wondered where my nosy neighbors were now. I grabbed my baseball
bat, then called Bradford at home.

“
This better be good,” he
grumbled when he picked up.

“
Wayne Davidson’s trying to
break into my apartment,” I screamed, despite my pledge to myself
to stay calm.

“
Sis? Hang on, I’ll be right
there.”

At that moment, I heard a horrid splintering
sound and saw the door swing inward. I threw the phone down and
grabbed the bat with both hands. Wayne dropped an iron bar on my
couch. “You’re not being very friendly,” he said as he started
toward me.

“
Don’t,” I said, my fingers
clenched to the grip of the bat.

“
You’ve got to be kidding,”
he said. “You can’t stop me.”