There’s got to be a way to get some quick cash.
She packed the finished pinwheels in metal tins lined with waxed paper and put them in the refrigerator. Then she wandered into the front room and found Sandy asleep on a corner of the handmade rug. “The rug!”
Sandy hopped up with a panicked yip, then ran to Miranda. She picked him up. “Sorry, Sandy, I didn’t mean to scare you. You know, that New York City girl wanted this rug. If she still wants it, I could keep things going until this catastrophe blows over.”
Miranda dug out her murder notebook, flipped to the correct page and dialed Linda’s cell.
“Linda? This is Miranda.” There was only silence. After a longish pause, she added, “Miranda Trent from Paint & Shine.”
“Oh, hi. I didn’t recognize the number and thought it might have been a robocall. Is everything okay?”
“Well, not quite. Do you remember that you asked about buying the hooked rug in my front room?”
“I remember that quite clearly. You said it wasn’t for sale. You said that quite abruptly, if I may say so.”
Miranda sighed. She was going to have to mind her Ps and Qs much better around her clients.
“I apologize for my abrupt answer. But maybe this is lucky for you because circumstances have changed. Are you still interested?”
“Absolutely. How much are you asking?”
That stopped Miranda in her tracks. She hadn’t thought about price. “Um. How much are you offering?”
I’m flailing around in the dark here. I haven’t even done an online search of the auction sites to figure out a good asking price. Really, girl. You need to pay more attention to what’s going on.
“To be honest, I’ve called on the spur of the moment. I haven’t given that any thought whatsoever. Are you still interested?”
“Hang on a second.” Linda apparently pressed the phone against herself, but Miranda could hear talking in the background. A muffled voice cut a loud wail of protest that they hadn’t yet finished going around the antique shops to search for the perfect rug. The disembodied voice moaned that a promise is a promise and even if this was the perfect rug, they still needed to visit the shops.
I wonder. That’s an extreme reaction. It really is only a rug.
Linda came back on the phone. “I’m still interested, but not for long. We’ve been visiting your local craft galleries.” There was a long pause again as the distance voice said something. “As yet, we haven’t found anything close to the originality and quality of your rug.”
“Great. Let me do a little research and get back to you. Are you still staying up at the lodge?”
“Yeah, we’re checking out early tomorrow morning. We’ve got a few Pennsylvania antique shops to visit on our way home.”
“Perfect, I’ll be by in about an hour with the rug and a great price. Okay?”
“Sure, that’s fair.”
She heard more protests from Kelly in the background as she ended the call.
Miranda dragged out her uncle’s ancient vacuum cleaner and gave the rug a thorough clean. She rolled up the eight-by-ten-foot rug and carried it out to the van. She gathered up Sandy and put him in his travel crate, checked that he had water, and left for the lodge.
No way I’m leaving Sandy to get taken. Ugh!
She ran a hand through her hair. I love this rug—there has to be another way. She recalled the frightening balance in her checking account and the fact that her credit card was over its limit. She started up the van for a moment, then shut it off again.
No, the real truth is that I don’t want to explain this to my mother. I can sympathize with Mrs. Hobb and the problem with the murder knife as a family treasure. Yikes! But again, I have to do this because I want to keep the farm. Granny will understand. She can make me another rug. I will need to beg her forgiveness. No problem, I can do that.
Miranda straightened her back and started up the van. She turned it off yet again, went into the kitchen and grabbed one of the candy tins from the refrigerator. During their last phone call, her mother had mentioned that traditional Peanut Butter Potato Pinwheels were Doris Ann’s favorite treat. Hopefully, hers would be up to scratch. After all that had been happening, she really needed Doris Ann on her side. Regardless of the moonshine issue, Doris Ann had more influence with the lodge residents than anyone else.
On the way, she stopped at the cattle turnout and researched the cost of handcrafted wool rag rugs. Most were selling anywhere from $1,200 to $1,800. Some rare primitives sold for more the $5,000. She mentally set her minimum sale price at $1,200. That would get her through to the end of the month.
She drove to Hemlock Lodge and pulled around the entrance into the parking area for resident guests. She turned off the van engine and let her head fall forward onto the steering wheel.
Am I really going to sell Granny’s rug?
Finally, she raised her head, got out of the van, and walked down the sidewalk that ran along the numbered doors of the lodge rooms. At the middle of the two-story building, she found the access corridor that led to the more expensive rooms with a view of the valley below. She knocked and Linda opened the door.
“Come on in.” Linda smiled. “Did you bring the rug?”
Miranda said, “I sure did. It’s out in the van.”
The room looked like it had been hit by a bomb. The nearest queen bed looked like it hadn’t been made in days. Clothes, makeup, maps, and newspapers were piled on every available flat surface and also on the end of the bed among the tangle of sheets.
Linda noticed that Miranda was surveying the room.
“Oh, don’t mind Kelly’s mess. She can’t help herself. She doesn’t like for housekeeping to service the room. Mostly because she’s so messy, but I make her keep her stuff on her side of the room. At home, I just pick things up. It bothers me too much if I don’t.”
Sure enough, the other bed had been made up with tight corners and plumped pillows as if it had never been slept in at all.
“Why do you want the rug?” Miranda eyed the messy half and couldn’t envision her prized rug finding a happy home among such clutter. She was glad to see that Linda was obsessively neat enough to tidy up.
Linda laughed. “We’re going to move to a just-built luxury apartment building. I’m furnishing it because I can afford the expenses on my own. Although we’re both advancing in our jobs, mine has taken off like a shot.”
“Congratulations. Promotions are exciting but they can be stressful. I went from a teeny-tiny New York studio to the farmhouse. So much space still feels strange. I’ve also had a great deal of trouble getting used to the country quiet. I can sleep through endless emergency sirens, but not the intermittent peeping of a cricket somewhere in the house.”
“We’ve noticed that here, too. But it’s definitely time for us to get larger digs with access to parks. We’re going to need that.”
Do I really want Granny’s rug to go to these girls?
Linda continued in a nervous chatter. “Kelly’s promised to clean up her act when the—when we move.”
They seem a bit distracted. It’s an odd time to take a vacation. Most New Yorkers escape to the Hamptons during the hot summer—not fall. New York in the fall is the best time to live there.
“That’s good. A handmade rug requires a little bit of specialized care to stay nice.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that—I’m the obsessive neat freak.” She waved an arm at her pristine bed. “Anyway, you just caught us in time. We’re about to go antique shopping as soon as Kelly gets back from the convenience store.”
“I did a little research on the prices for handmade rag rugs. What’s your offer?”
Linda smiled. “Okay, me first then. How about six hundred dollars?”
Miranda gulped and swallowed hard. That’s highway robbery is what she wanted to blurt out, but didn’t. “I can see you’re after a bargain, but I was thinking a little more along the lines of fourteen hundred.”
> Linda sucked in a breath through her teeth. “That’s a little steep.”
“It’s a one-of-a-kind primitive rug made to a traditional design with virgin wool strips salvaged from clothes worn in the mid-century time frame. Similar rugs online go for as much as eighteen hundred dollars. Some extremely rare primitives, which is what this one is, can go for up to five thousand. I did my research.”
Linda pulled at her hem. “Fine, I was trying to get a bargain. How about thirteen hundred and fifty?”
“I’m good with that. Did you want to use a credit card?”
“Before we close the deal, I’d like to take a closer look at the rug.”
“Sure. Come on out to the van.”
Miranda led her to the van, opened the back door, and unrolled the rug as much as she could in the space that was left from Sandy’s crate. Sandy yipped and jumped up against the sides.
“Calm down, Sandy. You’re not getting out just yet.”
Linda ran her hand over the nubby surface. “Oh, it’s just beautiful. The traditional element is what caught my eye from the moment I saw it. Wherever did she come up this design? It’s not something I’ve seen.”
“It’s an old-style heritage pattern that shows up in all sorts of handicrafts within our family—dishtowels, pillowcases, tablecloths. You saw the laurel leaves pattern in the linen on the table, right? It’s a family favorite for embellishment. I think it goes back to our Scots-Irish heritage. The Buchanan clan arrived in the United States in the early 1700s. The laurel leaves are prominent on the crest.”
“Okay.” Linda handed Miranda her credit card. “I adore this rug and I’ll never find anything this lovely in the city. It will look fabulous in our new apartment.”
Miranda processed the sale with her phone and a Square credit card scanner. She swiped Linda’s card but the transaction failed because there was no signal. She tried again but got the same result. She groaned. “No reception out here for the Wi-Fi connection. Let’s go down to the lobby and I’ll try again.”
Miranda noticed that Linda followed her without uttering a word. A feeling of dread soured her stomach. They stood in front of the lobby fireplace close to one of the wireless repeaters mounted on the ceiling. This time they got a signal, but after a suspenseful pause, the transaction was rejected.
“Are you sure this card is good?”
Linda frowned. “It should be. I’m confused. I used it for gas yesterday. It was fine. Here, let me wipe off the strip. Sometimes our local deli has to do that.” She took the card and buffed it on the tail of her T-shirt. “Try it again.”
The transaction failed one more time and Miranda’s heart sank. The message in the app indicated that the card holder needed to contact the credit card company for important information.
Planting a hopeful look on her face, she said, “Do you have another card?”
“This is the only card I have.” Linda appeared stunned and slowly took the card from Miranda. She stared in space as if mentally replaying a list of all the instances in the last few days when the card had worked. Linda rubbed the back of her neck. “I don’t know how to explain this. This has never happened to me before.”
Sensing that Linda appeared genuinely shocked and was probably not a credit risk, Miranda said, “Could you write me a check?”
“I don’t carry them with me. I hardly ever use them anymore. Anyway, it might bounce since obviously there’s a problem. I’m sorry. I’ll check in with the bank tomorrow morning, first thing.”
“I thought you were leaving tomorrow.”
“We are, but I really want that rug and more importantly, I’m on the hook for the hotel bill. Kelly usually pays for the car and airfare.”
“Do you think Kelly might spot you the credit card charge so that you can have the rug today?”
Linda’s face lit up. “Brilliant. I’ll give her a call.” She punched in the call then waited. “It’s going to voice mail.” She groaned and left Kelly a message to call her immediately. She looked puzzled. “She’s been gone a long time just to go up to the convenience store.” She looked at her watch. “She’s been gone for more than an hour.”
“That seems long. It’s not more than a couple of minutes down the road. Do you want me to run you up there and see if she’s having car trouble?”
“It’s a rental.”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t break down.” Miranda motioned for Linda to get in the van. “Let’s go check it out. I know the folks who own the store.”
In a few minutes, Miranda walked into the convenience store with Linda behind her. “Hi, Mable. How’s business?”
A middle-aged woman with black artificially dyed hair offered up a weary smile. “It’s our busiest time, so that’s good—just a little tiring is all. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for one of my clients who said she was coming up here. Her name is Kelly Davis and she’s staying at the lodge. Her roommate here was expecting her back more than an hour ago. She’s from New York and always wears red Converse shoes.”
“She’s a bit plump, right?”
Linda nodded. “Yeah, about my size, in fact.”
Mable pointed to the highway. “She filled up the car—it didn’t take much gas at all—got a few snacks, and tore out of here like a house afire.”
All the color drained from Linda’s face and her lips turned the color of chalk.
Miranda and Linda left the convenience store and drove back to Hemlock Lodge in total silence. Linda motioned for Miranda to follow and she unlocked her room.
“I thought so. Something is terribly wrong.” Linda stood looking at the messy half of the room. She looked in the dresser drawers and scanned the clothes hanging on the rod. “I never look over here because it annoys me so much, but most of Kelly’s personal stuff is gone.”
“What?”
“Her suitcase is gone. Her clean clothes are gone. The ones that are tossed everywhere are old and worn. She’s left me.” Tears began to stream down Linda’s face. “She left me here in the middle of back country nowhere with no car and no money.”
Miranda looked around the room with a fresh perspective. Linda was right. The mess disguised the fact that the important items were gone. “I don’t understand why she would leave you stranded here.”
“Kelly’s been out of sorts lately—moody. That’s why we’re getting a larger apartment. This was probably going to be our last adventure with just the two of us. I thought I was being pretty good about hiding my frustration with her, but apparently not.”
“Do you think she’s just angry and took off for a drive to cool off?”
Linda got a tissue from the room dispenser. “No, I think she’s on the way to the airport for the next flight to New York.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I thought we had our differences pretty much worked out. But now that I look back, she hasn’t been herself since she met that cook who got killed at the farmhouse.”
A cold shiver ran up Miranda’s spine. “That doesn’t make sense. They didn’t know each other, did they?”
“I’m not sure.” Linda blew her nose and sniffed. “She was out by herself while I was picking flowers. She met me on the front porch right before we sat at the table. It was only a minute or two before the other cook screamed.”
“Then you both lied in making your statements. You told me that you were outside together picking flowers.” Miranda bit her lip. “I’m going to report this to Sheriff Larson. He’ll need to know that you two don’t have alibis.”
“I can’t do anything until I get my credit straightened out and I’m sure the news is going to be bad. I’ll have to ask my folks to wire me some money to get back to New York. They are going to hold this over me and claim that they have been right all along and that they saw it coming.”
“Why?”
“They had Kelly investigated and found out that she’s been banned by several department stores in Manhattan.”
“What do you mean by banned?”
“She was stealing small items—nothing large enough to trigger an arrest. She seemed to want the attention. She’s gotten counseling and that has worked really well. I also wanted to think that the stability of our relationship had something to do with that, too.”
“But how—”
“I’m afraid that Kelly has taken every bit of the money out of my debit card account.” She turned to Miranda with tears beginning to flow. “She’s the only other person who knew the PIN.”
Chapter 29
Wednesday Evening, Hemlock Lodge
Miranda called Sheriff Larson from the front seat of her van and reported that Kelly had apparently left Linda in the lurch with no car and had also cleaned out her debit card account. She also told him that Kelly and Mrs. Childers apparently knew each other and were talking in the kitchen just before the murder. He listened to her report and thanked her but didn’t give any hint of what he might do about it.
Grabbing the murder notebook, she entered the incident on both Linda and Kelly’s pages. She sadly admitted to herself that she just couldn’t make any sense out of Kelly’s actions. More was going on, but how on earth could she find out what?
Frustrated, she grabbed two of the candy tins, and made sure Sandy was asleep in his crate and that he still had water. She walked into the lodge and planted herself in front of Doris Ann. Miranda held her arms behind her back and looked down at the receptionist until Doris Ann turned in her chair and looked up.
Miranda smiled. “Guess what I have for you?”
Doris Ann’s eyebrows raised and a smile appeared that would outshine the sun. “You brought me some of your delicious pinwheels?”
Miranda brought the tin out and handed it over. Doris Ann popped open the lid and downed one of the pinwheels in a flash. After the first pinwheel vanished, Doris Ann gulped down a second and finally began to nibble politely on the third. “You found out about those city girls, didn’t you? I saw you talking to them.”
Still Knife Painting Page 19
