Thread Reckoning (7 page)

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 interested 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.

“Hi,” I said to him. “Did you talk with Frederic and Cassandra?”

“We did,” he said.

“They were here right after you guys left. Frederic didn’t know about his mother.”

Ted nodded. “He does now.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Did you have those gems out where people shopping here could see them?” Detective Sloan asked.

“Of course not. I kept them in my office where I was working on the dress,” I said. “When I’d hear someone come into the shop, I’d stop working and go out to see how I could help them.”

“The jewels are real,” Ted said. “And they have an estimated value of seventy-five thousand to a hundred thousand dollars.”

Chapter Six

No sooner had Ted told me the estimated worth of the gems than Cassandra and Frederic came into the shop. Cassandra stormed in, but Frederic followed slowly behind her. Given his bleak eyes and drawn mouth, I guessed the pair had just come from identifying his mother.

“We went back to the station after going to the morgue, but they told us you were here,” Cassandra said to Ted and Detective Sloan. “Have you caught the guy who did this yet?”

“Not yet,” Ted said.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Frederic,” I said, “would you like to have a seat? Can I get you some water?”

He nodded. “Water would be nice. Thank you.”

“What about me?” Cassandra demanded as Frederic slumped onto the sofa. “I’d like some water. He’s not the only one suffering here.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll bring you one, too.” I retrieved two bottles of water from the minifridge in my office and gave them to Frederic and Cassandra.

“Thank you,” Frederic repeated. “I needed this.” He twisted the cap off the bottle and drank deeply.

Cassandra dropped her bottle into her purse. “So, they said at the station that the gems Francesca gave us were real. When are we getting those back?”

“We’ve taken them into evidence, and you won’t be able to get them back until the case is concluded,” Ted said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Those are ours! They’re going on my wedding gown, and my wedding is taking place in less than two weeks. If I don’t have my gown finished by then, I’ll be suing someone.” She whirled around, prepared to prance back out of the shop.

“Wait,” Ted said. “We’ll need to question the two of you further.”

“Right now?” Cassandra asked over her shoulder. “If you hadn’t noticed, we were leaving.”

Frederic still sat on the sofa. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling.

A muscle worked in Ted’s jaw, and I could tell he was agitated.

Detective Sloan stared at Frederic with unmasked sympathy. I was surprised. So far, she hadn’t struck me as the sympathetic type.

“Will you question them together or separately?” I asked.

“Separately.” Ted frowned, obviously wondering what I was up to.

“Then maybe you could take Cassandra to the station, and Frederic could go over to MacKenzies’ Mochas and unwind for a few minutes before meeting you there,” I said.

Cassandra’s head whipped in my direction. “What? Now you’re wanting Frederic to yourself? All of a sudden, you find out the jewels are real, and you think you’ll cozy up to my fiancé? I don’t think so!”

“She’s not trying to cozy up to me, Cass,” Frederic said. “The woman is simply trying to give me a break, okay? God knows I need one!”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ted said. “Ms. Wainwright, let’s take you down to the station. Mr. Ortega, can you come on down in about an hour?”

Frederic nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“I can’t believe this! And I’m taking my car. You can come back and get him. Or maybe she’ll bring him.” Cassandra glared at me. “You’re fired!” She sputtered and blustered all the way out onto the street.

“A word in private, please, Ms. Singer?” Ted asked.

“I’ll go outside and try to calm Ms. Wainwright,” Detective Sloan said.

Ted and I stepped into the office. I gave him my best look of innocence.

He placed his hands lightly on my shoulders as his lips curved into a grin. “I know you, Inch-High Private Eye. What are you up to?”

I shrugged. “Nothing. Don’t you think he needs a break from that shrew for a few minutes?”

“You sure you’re not cozying up to the guy because those jewels are real?” he teased.

I playfully slapped his arm. “Stop it.”

“Be careful, all right? I don’t think Frederic Ortega killed his mother, but—”

“I know,” I interrupted. “Everyone’s a suspect. Go.”

“I’ll call you tonight,” Ted said.

We stepped out of the office. Frederic was still sitting on the sofa, and he looked as if he were dozing.

“Mr. Ortega?” Ted asked.

Frederic started at the sound. “Yes, sir?”

“We’ll see you at the station in an hour,” Ted said. “You have transportation?”

“I’ll call a cab,” Frederic said.

“We can send a car for you if you’ll give us a call and let us know where you are.” Ted gave me a very official-looking nod before he left.

“Frederic,” I said, “let me call Sadie at MacKenzies’ Mochas and order you some lunch. Either she can bring it over or I’ll go get it. You can just rest here for a little while if you’d like.”

“Actually, I would like that,” he said. “Cass doesn’t seem to understand that I lost my mother this morning.” His voice broke and he dropped his head into his hands.

“I’m sure she does,” I lied. Actually, I wasn’t convinced Cassandra Wainwright understood anything. I moved a box of tissues from the counter to the coffee table in front of Frederic. As he quietly wept, I moved over and patted his shoulder. I felt awkward, since I didn’t know this man at all. But his mother had been killed outside my shop mere hours ago, and all his fiancée seemed to care about was her wedding gown.

The bells over the door jingled and two of the high school girls from my candlewicking class—Carlie and Jennica—came in. Both were short—though taller than me—with blond hair. Carlie had a shy, dimpling smile, and Jennica’s eyes always sparkled with curiosity and speculation.

“Hi, guys,” I said, hopping up from the sofa and hurrying over to see what I could help them with. “Are you looking for some embroidery floss?”

“We mainly just came to check on you,” Carlie said. “We heard what happened this morning. Everybody’s talking about it.”

I started shaking my head, but they didn’t catch my drift.

“Yeah,” Jennica said. “We heard at school that somebody stabbed—”

“Speaking of school,” I said quickly, “why aren’t you there?”

Carlie laughed. “We got out early today. They’re having teacher conferences or something.”

“Yeah. I think it’s really that the teachers just wanted a break from us,” Jennica said.

“Imagine that,” I said.

Jennica nodded at Frederic. “What’s with that guy?”

I ushered them out the door. “We’ll talk in class, okay?”

“Sure. Okay.” Carlie looked at Jennica and shrugged.