Tapestry of Lies: A Weaving Mystery (20 page)

“Hi.” And then I noticed her French bulldog on a leash. “Hi, Clementine. How are you this morning?”

“She had a good night. We slept here for the first time last night.”

I reached the landing and petted her. “Hello, pretty girl. Are you going to visit Winston downstairs?”

“Is he there now?” Margaret asked.

“He is. You should stop by. I’ll be only a minute.” I hurried to my apartment and raced back down.

Back in the shop, I looked around. The only person there was Marnie. “Where’s Matthew?”

“He was in a rush to get somewhere. He said to tell you he’d pick up Winston around two. Oh, and Margaret’s in the back with Jenny.” She pointed behind the counter. “And guess who’s got a girlfriend.”

I walked around. There was Winston nuzzling with Clementine. “Ah, that’s so cute. Now the only one around here who needs a boyfriend is me.”

“And me,” Marnie quipped, planting her hands on her ample hips.

I stopped myself from laughing. “I didn’t know you wanted one.”

“Hey, I may be middle-aged, but I’m not dead. I still have needs, you know.” I must have looked shocked because she added, “I’m talking about affection—you know, like hugging—and company.” She glanced at the file I’d just dropped on the counter. “What’s that?”

“Matthew got copies of all the models McDermott photographed over the years. The police already identified all of them except for one. Matthew thought you might recognize her.”

Marnie came closer. I handed her the picture. She stared at it for a long time.

“What do you think? Have you ever seen her before?”

She put it back in the folder and handed it to me with a shrug. “I have no idea who she is. She looks somewhat familiar, but it could be she just reminds me of somebody.”

I let out a long breath. “She looks familiar to me, but I can’t place her. I was thinking that she might be someone local. A person can change a lot after ten or twenty years.”

“True, but I think I’d recognize that nose. That’s quite a honker she’s got.” It wasn’t a very nice comment, but I was used to Marnie’s blunt ways. She paused. “The person you really should ask is Jenny. She’s lived in Briar Hollow her whole life.”

“Didn’t you?”

“I was born here, but when I got married I followed my husband to Charlotte. I didn’t move back here until ten years ago. Whoever that girl is, she might have lived here during the years I was away.”

I picked up the file. “I’ll go ask her now.”

“She’s got a shop full of customers, and Margaret is with her. A bunch of people came in while you were upstairs.”

I’d been gone for only a minute. “Good for her.” I picked up Marnie’s place mats and studied them. Each was woven in a different color against the same white warp. One was navy, one red, one forest green, and the last one was a golden yellow. “An odd set; how pretty.”

“I thought it might be interesting to make something different for a change.”

I placed my white coffee mug on the red mat. “Look at that. They’ll look great on a breakfast table, especially with white dishes.”

She headed for her loom and settled comfortably in her chair. Soon a few customers walked in. I slid the folder with the picture of the unknown model under the counter and hurried forward.

“Welcome to Dream Weaver. Can I help you?” The women were lookers. They strolled around for a few minutes, and just when I was sure they were about to leave, one of them picked up the new place mats Marnie had just brought in.

“These are so colorful. What do you think?” she asked her friend. “Aren’t they fun?” She looked at the tag. “I’m taking them.” She picked them up and marched over to the counter. A few minutes later they had left. The shop was empty again.

I waved my sales book to Marnie. “We’re out of place mats again.”

“I saw that. You’re right. I can’t make them fast enough.”

“I’d better call all my weavers and tell them to get going on place mats.” I picked up the phone. A few minutes later, I had promises for eight sets, and there were still two weavers I hadn’t been able to reach.

Marnie chuckled. “Eight sets should last you at least a couple of days.” Her next question was one I’d been asking myself. “What are you going to do when you hear from Bunny?”

A group of Jenny’s customers walked through the shop at that moment, and I waited until they had left. “I think her silence is speaking loud and clear. She doesn’t want to sign that agreement, and I can’t afford to work with a customer like that.”

“So you’ve made up your mind?”

I hesitated. “Oh, God. I just don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Jenny asked from behind me.

I turned around. She had a tray in her hands. Margaret was standing next to her, wearing a grin. She placed a platter of fresh muffins on the counter.

“Bunny Boyd still hasn’t come in to sign that contract.”

“You should see that as a sign,” she said. “Don’t work with her. I told you. You’d so regret it.”

Margaret frowned. “I hope you’re not hesitating on my account?”

Marnie and Jenny looked at her, puzzled. “Why would it have anything to do with you?” asked Marnie.

I explained. “I found out that Bunny gave Jenny the contract and then pulled it away from her suddenly, leaving her with all the yarn she’d already purchased for the project. That’s why Margaret had to close her studio.”

They looked at her for confirmation. Margaret nodded, but added uncomfortably, “It isn’t as bad as Della makes it sound.”

“It sounds plenty bad to me,” Jenny said.

“Don’t worry. If I turn her down it will be for my own reasons.”

Marnie nodded. “It’s true. She gave Della a bad check.”

“To be fair, she made good on that check right away. It was just a mistake. The reason I don’t want to deal with her is that she isn’t reliable. I’ve asked her more than once to agree in writing that if she changes her mind, the deposit is nonrefundable. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if she decides to sue me for that deposit, she can afford a lawyer much more than I can. I can’t order that amount of yarn without feeling safe.”

“I have an idea,” Margaret said. “Why don’t you buy the yarn from me? I already have the full amount you’d need to fill the contract. You can pay me when you get paid, and if Bunny pulls a number, then you can sell the fabric you’ve already produced, return the rest of the yarn and pay me only for what you’ve used.” She saw my hesitation. “Think about it,” she insisted. “It’s a good idea. It would benefit both of us.”

It was a great idea, but for some reason I still hesitated. “Let me think about it.”

“On another note,” Jenny said, putting an end to the subject, “I have good news. Della, Marnie, meet my new employee, Margaret.”

Margaret laughed. “Not only her first, but also her only employee.”

“That’s wonderful.” I said. “Good for you. When do you start?”

“Right now,” she said.

Jenny passed coffee all around and we clicked mugs.

Margaret took a sip and then excused herself. “I have to get back. I can’t stand around chatting. I have a job to do, you know.” She hurried to the back.

“She’s going to be great,” Jenny said. “I have a good feeling about her.”

I suddenly remembered the picture. “I have something I want you to take a look at.” I pulled out the file and handed it to Jenny. “Do you recognize this woman?”

She studied it in silence for a few seconds and then shook her head slowly. “I can’t say that I do. Is she supposed to be from around here?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea. I told you about the photographs I found in McDermott’s studio. They’ve all been identified except for this one. Nobody knows who she is.”

Jenny studied it again. “Do you have any other pictures of her, maybe one from a different angle?”

“No. That’s the odd thing. There are dozens of pictures of every other model, but only this one of her. Matthew thinks McDermott might not have been as inspired by her.”

“Because of that honker,” Marnie said.

“This picture looks like it was taken decades ago,” Jenny said.

I nodded. “Judging by the hairstyle and the makeup, it looks to be about twenty years old to me.”

Marnie came over and stared down at the picture. “Della thinks she reminds her of somebody, but she can’t figure out who.”

“I don’t know. I could be wrong about that.”

At that moment, Margaret returned. “I just wanted to ask you how—” Her eyes fell on the open file on the counter. She stared at the picture and blanched.

“What is it?” I said. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she answered in a tight voice. “I’d better get back.” Before anyone could say another word, she whirled around and hurried to the coffee shop.

Marnie stared after her. “What the heck was that all about?”

Puzzled, I said, “I have no idea.”

Jenny was quiet for a moment. “All I know is the minute she laid eyes on that picture, her aura went from soft blue to a dark gray.”

Marnie frowned and stared down at the picture. “Do you think she recognized the woman?”

It hardly made sense to me. “She’s a bit young to have known her. She couldn’t have been more than a baby when that picture was taken. But I think she does know something.” I turned to Jenny. “Give me a minute with her.” I hurried to the back.

Margaret was sweeping the coffee shop floor. She saw me and scowled.

“Tell me,” I said, putting a restraining hand on the door handle. “You recognize that woman, don’t you? Who is she?”

Something like fear flashed through her gray eyes and she looked away. “I have no idea who she is. I’m sorry, Della. I can’t talk now. I’m working.”

“Come on, Margaret. Jenny won’t mind. Please, tell me—”

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she said, whipping off her apron. “I should find another job.” She threw it on the back of a nearby chair and stormed through the beaded curtains. A moment later, I heard her snap a command at Clementine. “Come, Clem.” Then the bell above the door tinkled.

Jenny came in, looking bewildered. “What the hell just happened?”

“I think she just quit.” I shook my head, baffled. “It’s my fault. I must have pushed her too hard. I’ll go talk to her.”

I hurried after Margaret, taking the stairs to her apartment as fast as I could. I knocked on the door. “Margaret. Please don’t quit. Jenny needs you. I promise I won’t question you again.”

My pleading was met with silence. I stared at the door for a long time. What could Margaret be so afraid of?

I
returned downstairs, puzzled. When I walked in, Jenny had returned to her shop and Marnie instantly bombarded me with questions.

“Why did she run away like that? Does she know something? Did she recognize the girl in the picture?”

“She wouldn’t answer the door,” I said, staring at the picture before shoving the folder into the drawer. “Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn she looked scared. She ran into her apartment and locked the door.”

Jenny wrinkled her nose. “What the heck is going on?”

The bell above the door tinkled, and a moment later Matthew walked in. I looked at my watch—eleven. What was he doing back here so early?

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he said, putting all thoughts of unknown models, of murder and of suspects out of my mind.

I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Are you talking to me?”

“Don’t be silly,” Marnie said, striking a pose. “You’re talking to me, right, handsome?”

“Right,” he said, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “I like that blouse you’re wearing.”

“I was hoping you would,” she said, batting her lashes.

I dropped down and petted Winston. “I don’t care that Matthew likes Marnie better, just as long as you like me, right, Winnie?” I glanced up at Matthew.

He grinned back at me. “I was wondering if you’d mind keeping him a little later this afternoon. I could pick him up around six or so.”

“Great, and then you can come up and have dinner with me—beef bourguignon.”

His eyes lit up. “That’s an invitation I won’t turn down. I’ll bring the wine.”

I glanced at Marnie, who was nodding furiously and batting her lashes again.

I smiled at Matthew. “Mashed or roasted?”

“Mashed, by all means.”

“Great, dinner will be ready at seven.”

“Perfect,” Matthew said. “And just to prove I trust your cooking, I won’t bother bringing the pizza.” He headed for the door, threw me a smile and left.

The door swung shut and Marnie threw her hands in the air. “By God, she’s got it.” She turned to me. “You actually did it right this time. You flirted.”

“I did?”

She raised a hand and high fived me. “That proves it. There’s hope for you yet.”

She returned to her loom, singing, or rather, screeching some old love song—something about a fellow needing a girl in his arms. Winston, who was lying in front of the counter, sat up and howled along with her.

I laughed. “I think he’s telling you not to quit your day job.” I pulled his cushion from under the counter and fluffed it up. “Come, Winnie.” He stopped howling and dropped back down. I threw him a piece of jerky and soon he was snoring contentedly.

The day flew by with a constant stream of customers. The shop was so busy that I didn’t have a minute to slip into the back to order a sandwich until nearly two o’clock—good thing, considering Jenny had lost her new employee and was running herself ragged.

By then I was famished. But when I walked in, the tea shop was still packed. Ever since the Coffee Break had been closed, Jenny’s business had doubled almost daily. I waved at her from the beaded curtain, and she signaled that she’d get back to me. I walked back out. Damn, if her shop continued being that busy, I’d have to start bringing in my own lunch. And I wasn’t even any good at making sandwiches. That thought suddenly reminded me that I’d promised Matthew beef bourguignon
for dinner.
Shit
.

I ran to the front, shouted at Marnie that I was going grocery shopping and I’d be right back. I grabbed my coat and was about to tear out of there when Julia Anderson walked in. I threw Marnie a panicked look.

As if on cue, Marnie hefted herself off her seat. “I’m heading out to do that shopping you wanted,” she said. She counted on her fingers. “Two pounds of beef chuck, two cups of pearl onions, one pound of cap mushrooms, garlic, beef broth and potatoes. Am I forgetting anything?”

I must have looked confused because she called over her shoulder as she headed toward the door, “I’ll give you a call from the grocery store. If I’m forgetting anything, you can tell me then.” The door closed behind her and Mrs. Anderson and I were alone.

“What can I do for you?” I asked.

“I know you turned me down when I asked you before, but I’m hoping this time you might feel differently.” I waited for her to continue. She took a deep breath. “The blackmail has started again,” she announced.

My eyes widened. She continued. “Whoever took the pictures from Philip’s studio has picked up where he left off. I got this in the mail this morning.” She rummaged through her purse and pulled out an envelope. It was addressed to her with a printed label, the generic stick-on type used in laser printers. She opened the envelope and handed me the note.

The message consisted of three lines of pasted words cut from newspapers and magazines. It read: “I have the pictures. For ten thousand dollars I will give them to you instead of to the newspapers. Get the money ready and I will contact you with further instructions.”

I looked into her frightened eyes and my heart went out to her. The poor woman was terrified.

“It came yesterday morning. I got a call last night with instructions to drop off the money tonight.”

“Tonight?”

She looked near tears. “I’m to meet this person in the park behind the church at eleven o’clock tonight. He warned that if anybody else came along, he would send the pictures to the newspapers right away.”

“You heard the blackmailer’s voice? You’re certain it was a man?”

She hesitated. “It was difficult to say. The voice was deep and raspy, but it sounded like somebody changing his voice.”

“Could it have been a woman?”

She looked taken aback. “You think a woman might be behind this?”

“I have no idea whether it’s a man or a woman. I’m just looking at all the possibilities. Do you have any idea who it might be?”

She shook her head. “None. The only thing I can tell you is, if my husband ever finds out, it will kill him.” She closed her eyes suddenly and wavered on her feet as if she might faint.

“Mrs. Anderson, are you all right?”

She swallowed and pulled herself up. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t understand what you think I can do. If this person told you to come alone—” And then it hit me. “You want me to go in your place?”

Her eyes watered. “I know I have no right to ask you—”

Call me crazy, but all at once, I did want to go in her place. “What were the instructions?” I asked.

“I’m to sit on the bench at the edge of the park behind the church and wait. When the blackmailer sees me, he’ll give me the signal to leave the envelope on the bench and walk to the opposite side of the cemetery. I’m to wait there until he picks up the money, makes the drop and leaves. As soon as he’s gone, I can pick up the pictures.”

I knew very well I shouldn’t get involved, but I felt compelled to help the woman. “You and I are the same height,” I said hesitantly. Her eyes brightened with hope. I continued. “He’ll never be closer than about twenty yards, and in the dark he won’t be able to see your face any more than you can see his.” I was using “he” as she was, but I suspected the blackmailer was none other than Mrs. McDermott, which was another reason I wanted to go. The woman might be a blackmailer, but I was convinced she wasn’t dangerous.

“I can’t tell you how much I would appreciate it.”

I thought of the nice dinner I was planning for Matthew. I thought of the snuggling and kissing I was hoping to do on the sofa in front of the fireplace. If I timed things right, I could still spend a nice evening with him. I’d just have to cut it a bit short. And if I went, I might not see the blackmailer’s face, but I’d at least see his figure. I’d know whether it was a man or a woman. All at once I made up my mind. “I’ll do it,” I said suddenly.

“Thank you. Thank you.” She opened her purse and riffled through it, pulling out two envelopes. “This one is for you.”

“I can’t take your money,” I said, handing it back.

“I insist. There’s five hundred dollars in there.”

I shook my head. “Please consider coming back and shopping at the store if you like anything. We don’t know that I can help you yet.”

“It’s a deal.” She handed me the other, thicker envelope. “This one is in exchange for the photographs.” She repeated the instructions. “And remember, he will leave the photos on the bench. Don’t forget to pick them up before you go. Do you understand?” I nodded. “Thank you.” She turned and left.

As soon as the door closed behind her, I was filled with panic. What had I just done? I had actually agreed to meet someone alone and in the dark. And that person was certainly a blackmailer and possibly a murderer. But even as I berated myself, I knew I wouldn’t change my mind. Somebody had to take a chance if this murder was ever to be solved. And if I was right, this might just do the trick.

The phone rang, snapping me out of my thoughts.

It was Marnie. “Do you have that beef bourguignon
recipe in front of you?”

I opened my drawer and shuffled around until I located the piece of paper on which I’d jotted it down. “I have it.”

“Good. Now read me the ingredients.” I did, and then she said, “Got it. I’ll get everything you need and I’ll stop by my house for a couple of frozen lava cakes. All you’ll have to do is pop them in the oven for seven minutes. That and a scoop of ice cream and Matthew won’t stand a chance. He’ll be yours for eternity.” She hung up.

Unfortunately not for eternity, it seemed, since I already had another engagement at eleven o’clock tonight.