Designs On Murder Page 10

  “Not everyone, and I’m sure you’re selling yourself short. You probably recall more than you think you do.”

  “I’d better get back to the shop.”

  “Thanks again for the chicken and dumplings,” said Ford. “They’re delicious.”

  “You’re welcome.” I went across the hall, tapped on Jason’s door, and when he called for me to come in—a bit warily, come to think of it, I poked my head just inside. “Hi. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be ready to leave in a bit.”

  He grinned. “I’m ready to go now, but I suppose we should wait until quitting time. I’ll be down at five on the dot.”

  “Great. See you then.”

  Janice gave a drawer in her shop a slam, causing me to start. I looked up to see that Janice’s door was open and that she was sneering at me. I merely waved and hurried downstairs.

  I went into the kitchen and washed Grandpa Dave’s pot before returning to Designs on You. I sat the pot on the worktable beside my purse and noticed that Max was pacing the room.

  “Oooh, she makes me so mad.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  “Janice. That look she gave you! And could you feel her eyes boring into you as you walked down the stairs?”

  “No.”

  “Well, they did. The pillowcase walked to the doorway just so she could watch you.”

  I grinned and took a page from Max’s playbook. “Then I hope I gave her a good show.”

  Max laughed. “Well, I’m sure you did.”

  “Could’ve been better had I felt those eyes boring into me. But why would she be glaring at me?”

  “Because you, Cinderella, are going to the ball while the stepsister stays home and makes jewelry.” Max made a growly sound. “Can I trip her? Not down the stairs or anything...but enough to make her skin her knee or something.”

  “I don’t know. Can you?”

  She tipped back her head and looked up at the ceiling. “No. I tried once and couldn’t.”

  A shocked and amused chuckle escaped my lips. “Are you kidding?”

  Max leveled her gaze back at me.

  “No, of course, you’re not,” I said.

  “By the way, as soon as you’re finished with A Tale of Two Cities, I’d like to read it. Hearing Ford quote it was intriguing.”

  “I can get you the ebook on the tablet, and we can read it at the same time.”

  “Well, now you’re on the trolley!” Max clapped her hands. “We can have our very own book club for two.”

  “We certainly can.” I went into the reception area, sat at the desk, and loaded the ebook onto the tablet. I turned to Max. “There you go.”

  When I got up, Max sat down and began reading. “This is great. Thank you.”

  “Anytime.” I went back into the workshop and called Grandpa Dave.

  “Hi, Pup.”

  “Hi, Grandpa. Did you go by and feed Jasmine?”

  “I did you one better than that—I brought her home with me and fed her here. We had a terrific time batting around a foil ball until Jazzy knocked it under the refrigerator.”

  “Been there. I keep thinking that one day there will be such an ocean of foil balls under ours at home, that the refrigerator will get pushed out into the middle of the floor.”

  He chuckled. “If you aren’t up to coming and getting Jazzy after your date, I’ll bring her to you tomorrow. Of course, if you are up to it, you can come get her and tell us both all about it.”

  “All right. I’ll let you know. Thank you...for everything.”

  “You’re welcome for everything.”

  “I’m going to make some cards tonight to go on the doors asking people to please keep them closed so that Jazzy can be here with me.” I paused. “Do you think that’ll be all right?”

  “I think it’ll be fine.”

  “Ford liked your chicken and dumplings, by the way. He said they were almost as good as his grandmother’s.”

  “High praise...but what’s really on your mind?”

  He knew me too well.

  “Lorinda, Mark’s mother, and her psychic friend Sabine were here today. Sabine seemed to detect Max’s presence.” I went on to tell Grandpa Dave about the encounter. I left out the part about Sabine insisting that someone’s secrets were responsible for Mark’s death.

  “Did you and Max discuss what Sabine said about her?”

  “Not really. It seemed to make her uncomfortable. In fact, she actually disappeared for a few minutes.”

  “If talking about her death makes Max uncomfortable, then we shouldn’t bring it up, Pup. She’ll tell us what she wants us to know if and when she wants us to know it.”

  “I know.” Of course, I knew that. But I supposed Grandpa Dave was still acting as my teacher and mentor.

  A few minutes after I spoke with Grandpa, Max came into room.

  “I couldn’t help overhearing part of your conversation with Dave,” she said softly. “I’m not uneasy talking about my death with you or Dave...but I was perturbed when Sabine was poking into my life...or death...or afterlife.” She lifted and dropped one shoulder. “Sabine isn’t a friend. To her, I’m merely a ‘presence’...not even a person.”

  “I understand.” Although I had never thought about things from a ghost’s point of view before, it made perfect sense.

  “Something she said, though, about getting sick in the parlor—or, rather, your reception room—triggered a memory,” said Max. “My friend Hazel Lowry came by with a bottle of bootleg liquor she’d gotten from her cousin in Knoxville the evening of my...fall. She and I had a shot of courage before getting ready for the dance.”

  “Could the liquor have made you sick?”

  “I suppose it could’ve. More likely it made me drunk.”

  I made a mental note to see if I could find anything on Hazel Lowry.

  JASON TOOK ME TO MILANO’S Italian Cuisine. The hostess seated us in a tall wooden booth in the corner. The waitress arrived and took our drink orders.

  When she returned with the drinks, we ordered—chicken Bianco for me and meatball Parmesan for Jason. As the waitress retreated, Jason raised his glass.

  “To your successful first day.”

  I raised my glass and gently tapped his. “And to your first day in your new location. Did all your clients find you without any problem?”

  “They did. All my appointments arrived on schedule. I even had a couple of unsettling walk-ins.”

  “Right. Mark’s mom and her psychic friend.”

  “How’d you know?” he asked.

  “They stopped in at Designs on You because Sabine felt a presence there. Lorinda hoped it was Mark, of course, but Sabine said it was a woman who’d lived and died in the house.”

  “Yikes. Did that freak you out?”

  “No.” I sipped my soda. “Sabine said the woman was friendly.”

  “So, she says you’ve got the female equivalent of Casper, and my studio gets the all-clear from the psychic even though a guy was murdered there. Makes sense to me.”

  “Do you think she’s wrong? Did you get the feeling today that Mark was...well...there?”

  “No. I don’t believe in the supernatural. If I did, I’d have never leased that space.” He inclined his head. “What about you? Do you believe in ghosts?”

  I answered carefully. “I think there are definitely things in this world that we can’t explain, so I try to keep an open mind. I’m more concerned about Sabine saying that someone’s secret was the cause of Mark’s death.”

  “They told you about that?”

  Well, they hadn’t, but I made a sound I hoped would come off as an affirmative.

  “Don’t let Sabine worry you. Her telling everyone standing around upstairs that someone’s secrets—that someone apparently being a fellow Shops on Main vendor—led to Mark’s murder was purely a theatrical scare tactic,” said Jason.

  “A scare tactic?”

  “Yeah. Maybe she hoped to elicit a confession. Or mayb
e she was simply throwing it out there for Lorinda’s benefit.” He shrugged. “Or she could even be working for the cops to plant the suggestion in the killer’s mind that they’re on him or her, if the police suspect the killer is indeed a vendor.”

  “Gee, I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “Anything’s possible,” he said. “I do think it’s good that Sabine told Lorinda that she felt certain that Mark’s spirit had moved on into the light. Some spiritualists or mediums would have bilked the poor woman out of her life’s savings in a quest for answers.”

  The waitress arrived with our salads. After she’d left and we’d drizzled salad dressing over our plates, Jason took the opportunity to change the subject.

  “Did you grow up around here, Amanda?”

  “I did. I still live in the house I grew up in, as a matter of fact. My parents moved to Florida, and I got custody of the house.” I speared a piece of tomato. “What about you?”

  “I grew up not too far from here in Morristown. I got a BFA in photography from ETSU, and then I took a year of wages saved from working part-time at a grocery store and traveled the country.”

  “That sounds exciting. Where did you go?”

  “Louisiana, Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Wyoming, and Montana.” He grinned. “It was great. I was basically a freelance photographer then. I’d send shots with interesting captions or anecdotes to magazines that would accept unsolicited submissions. I got more work from the editors who liked and accepted my initial photos. I enjoyed it.”

  “Do you still freelance?” I asked.

  “Some. But my dad isn’t in the greatest health, and I can’t travel the way I used to. So I opened a studio in Johnson City.”

  “And that’s where the location wasn’t so good, right?”

  “Good memory...and absolutely right. So here I am in Abingdon.”

  I smiled. “I’m glad.”

  “Me too.”

  The waitress brought our food, and I realized we’d barely touched our salads.

  “Would you leave the salads please?” I asked.

  “Sure. May I bring you anything else?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Movement by the door drew my attention. “Oh, hey, that’s Connie!” I looked at Jason. “You know, from Delightful Home, the shop across the hall from mine.”

  Connie was with a tall, barrel-chested man with sandy hair. He was dressed in a polo shirt and khakis.

  “I think her husband is with her.” I was glad. Connie was such a charming free spirit. It would be interesting to see what her husband was like. Was this a case of opposites attract maybe?

  Connie glanced around the dining room, and I raised my hand to wave. Connie’s eyes widened, she turned, took the man’s arm, and propelled him from the restaurant, leaving the hostess gaping in confusion.

  My jaw dropped. What was that about?

  Jason turned to look. “I don’t see them.”

  “They...um...they left.”

  { }

  Chapter Eleven

  J

  ason dropped me back off at my car at Shops on Main after our date. Ever the gentleman, he waited until I got into the car and started it before he left me. I drove to Grandpa Dave’s house to pick up Jazzy and to tell him about Connie.

  “It was weird,” I told him, once we’d both settled onto the black leather sofa in his living room. “I know she saw me, but she simply turned around and left.”

  “What did the man look like?” Grandpa asked.

  I described the man I’d seen. “Of course, I only caught a glimpse of him before Connie hustled him out of Milano’s.”

  He shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like Connie’s husband. I met him when I went to measure the cabinets on Saturday afternoon. Will is of average height—about five feet, nine inches tall—and has reddish blonde hair.”

  “Was he nice? I mean, maybe the man with Connie was a divorce lawyer or something.”

  “Will was extremely nice. And he and Connie appeared to be very much in love.”

  “Well, I don’t think it was someone she was having an affair with,” I said. “Nobody would go to dinner with her lover in her own home town where she’s likely to run into someone she knows.”

  “The simplest explanation is that Connie was meeting with the man to discuss some sort of business. She took a quick look around the restaurant, maybe realized it was too crowded to have a private conversation and decided to go elsewhere. I doubt she even saw you.”

  “I don’t know... I could’ve sworn she saw me.”

  “Ah, Pup, I’m afraid that Mark’s murder has you finding intrigue around every corner. If you’re that curious, ask Connie about the incident tomorrow morning.”

  As I drove home, I realized that Grandpa Dave was right. I probably was skeptical of everyone and everything right now because of Mark’s murder. I liked Connie and felt she was truly a sincere person. So, there should be a logical answer to why she’d behaved as she did at the restaurant tonight.

  I wanted to trust everyone at Shops on Main but being naive could get me killed. After all, there was a strong possibility that one of my co-workers had already committed one murder.

  I TOOK A BATH, SLIPPED on some comfy pjs, and snuggled into my bed with my laptop. I was curious about Max’s friend Hazel Lowry. When I performed an internet search, I was surprised at how many Hazel Lowrys there were, even when I narrowed the search by including the town. I added a timeframe and I found an obituary for a woman who could’ve been Max’s friend—she’d have been about Max’s age in 1930, and she’d lived in Abingdon.

  The obituary said that Hazel had gone blind in May of 1930. That would have been around the time of Max’s death. Since Max didn’t say Hazel was blind, I was guessing that Hazel went blind after Max fell down the staircase.

  The article went on to say that Hazel had been in poor health for the remainder of her life following her blindness. Date of death was August 28, 1932. She was survived by her parents and her younger brother.

  How sad. I thought it was too weird a coincidence that Max had died and Hazel had gone blind at around the same time. What had they both been exposed to?

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, I bundled Jazzy into her carrier, put the door signs I’d made into my tote, and headed for Shops on Main. Connie was waiting for me in the parking lot. She got out of her gray hybrid sedan and hurried over as soon as I’d located a space.

  She knocked on the passenger side window. “Can we talk for a minute before we go in?”

  “Sure.” I unlocked the car.

  Connie opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Jazzy gave her a plaintive meow.

  “Oh, that’s right—you said you were bringing her today. Good.” Connie smiled. “I wanted to explain why I didn’t come over and talk with you last night at Milano’s.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” I said. “Whatever was going on, it’s your business, not mine.” I tried to keep my voice from sounding judgmental. I didn’t really feel judgmental about it—after all, I didn’t know who the man was or why Connie was being secretive about seeing him—but I hoped she would decide to confide in me about it. She did.

  “The man I was with was Janice’s ex-boyfriend. I mean, Janice had still been stringing him along the whole time she was seeing Mark, but I suppose technically he’s an ex. Anyway, my husband doesn’t really like that I involve myself in other people’s problems, especially these days. Will thinks my ‘helping people’ can be intrusive and ill-advised and, given Mark’s death, even dangerous.”

  “He does have a point.”

  “I know, but I can’t help myself. Poor Guy is simply head-over-heels for Janice. And he knows she’s vulnerable right now and might need a shoulder to lean on.”

  “What advice did you give him?” I asked. “I mean, I might be missing something, but Janice doesn’t seem that terribly brokenhearted to me.”

  “I agree. I’m afraid Mark might’ve thought the relationship was
something more serious than it actually was.” She shrugged slightly. “I told Guy to follow his heart.”

  “I guess you can’t ever go wrong doing that, right?”

  “Right.” She checked her watch. “I guess we should get inside.”

  Connie didn’t wait to walk with me, as I took Jazzy from the backseat. That was okay. I was ready to be alone with my cat...and with Max. I wanted to get Max’s take on everything that had happened, mainly because I wasn’t sure I was buying Connie’s story.

  Before even letting Jazzy out of her carrier, I put the signs I’d made on the doors requesting that the doors remain closed at all times to prevent Jazzy getting out of Designs on You. I didn’t think she’d be particularly interested in leaving the shop, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. After all, Shops on Main was a new environment for her, and she might be inclined to explore.

  I didn’t see Max right away, so after I got Jazzy settled, I went to the atelier. Jazzy hopped onto a windowsill and napped while I began working on another dress that I thought would be darling for a bridesmaid or prom gown. This one was patterned after the dress Rita Hayworth wore in the movie You Were Never Lovelier. I was going to make the dress in midnight blue and include the lace that ended on either side of the bodice as a shooting star.

  “Good morning,” Max said, appearing at my left elbow and peering at my sketch. “That’s fabulous!”

  “Thank you. How are you?” I inwardly cringed. That was a thoughtless question. I supposed I needed to break that habit.

  “Still dead. You?”

  “Still living.” I grinned.

  “How’d the date go?”

  “Great!” I excitedly gave Max the details about my dinner with Jason. Then I told her about Connie.

  Max tilted her head. “An affair, do you think?”

  “I don’t know. Grandpa Dave said she and her husband seemed very happy when he saw them on Saturday.”

  “They do act all lovey-dovey when Will is here...and I’ve never seen Connie do the secret phone call thing Janice thinks she’s so good at...but still...”