A Vintage Death

by Mary Ellen Hughes

  “So they traced the scissors that were used to kill Renata to him, huh?” Tabitha asked.

  Brian nodded. “He bought them at a place that called itself an antique shop but mostly carried a lot of junk. He apparently thought anything old would look like it came from Stitches Thru Time. He paid cash, but there was a security camera that caught him making the transaction.”

  “Lucky, especially for Dorothy,” Delia said. “Horrible man. And he did it to get at Renata’s money, from what I heard.”

  “That’s what’s been coming out,” Callie said. “Renata had a sizeable inheritance from her father, but she was holding on to it tightly. Jerry wanted to get his hands on it, maybe to take advantage of the investment opportunity Vernon Parks was dangling in front of him, which could happen if Dorothy needed to sell the Foxwood Inn in a hurry. Or maybe just to have money without Renata pulling all the strings. They were not a happy couple, despite the jolly front they put on for their customers. I think he already had incentives to get rid of her.”

  “Did he kill her in the park because that’s where Cliff Ashby had been killed?” Tabitha asked.

  “Probably,” Brian said. “It was a copycat murder from the start, using scissors and the same location.”

  “Except, thanks to Callie, we now know that it was really Paula’s knife that killed Ashby,” Tabitha pointed out.

  “And her multiple jabs with the scissors apparently covered up the knife wounds as far as the forensics were concerned,” Callie said. “But it was thanks to Lyssa’s research that Jerry’s alibi was destroyed.”

  “What a team you made,” Tabitha said. “Who knew, when you invited Lyssa to come and talk about her books, what you’d both be getting into.”

  Yes, Callie thought, who knew? It had turned out all right, all things considered. But she still had occasional nightmares about her harrowing crawl through that hidden passageway that Ashby had used to gather information on unwitting guests or creep up on an attractive young maid. And would Lyssa have accepted her invitation if she’d had the least inkling that a painful part of her past would be revealed?

  Callie hadn’t seen Lyssa since she’d left the cottage the day after the fire, though she’d received a couple of brief texts. She assumed Lyssa had gone back to her home in DC, where the renovations might be done, perhaps happy to wipe all thoughts of Keepsake Cove from her memory. Callie was just about to say to the others that it had been great knowing Lyssa but that she’d probably moved on when a flash of red pulled up in front of the shop, followed by two sharp honks. A familiar, roundish figure clothed in a khaki trench coat, her red hair once again spiked jauntily, jumped out of the Corvette and burst into House of Melody.

  “Congratulate me,” Lyssa said. “I just bought myself a nice little house not very far outside of Keepsake Cove. Woo-hoo!”

  As a chorus of congratulations rose up, she added, “It’s waterfront, so I might get myself a boat of some kind. Or maybe a kayak! I’ve always wanted to try kayaking. But it has a cute little den overlooking the water, that I can use to write. And guess what? I have a great idea for a murder mystery.”

  She held up her hands to frame the words of her projected title as the others waited with uneasy expressions. “Murder in Keep … Hah! Just kidding!” she cried, laughing as the shopkeepers exhaled. “We’ve had enough real excitement around here, haven’t we? Maybe I’ll write a nice romance instead, just for a change.”

  “You’re really moving here?” Callie asked, not sure if that part was a joke as well, though she hoped it wasn’t.

  “For at least part of the time,” Lyssa said. “I still need my city living. But this’ll be great for getaways.”

  “That’s terrific,” Callie said, and the others agreed. “But I admit it’s the last thing I expected.”

  “I’ve got wine at the café,” Brian said. “How about we head there for a welcome toast?”

  “Yes!” four voices said at once, and Callie scrambled to close her shop as the others went ahead. It was wonderful to have something to celebrate that wasn’t related to police activities. And Lyssa was going to be close now! How great that was going to be. Or was it?

  Callie paused in the act of closing up her register. After all, it was Lyssa, she remembered, who’d insisted she get involved in solving Clifford Ashby’s murder. And that tan trench coat she’d arrived in looked suspiciously close to being a Lyssa Hammond, Private Eye outfit.

  Callie laughed. No way. Lyssa had surely had enough of murder and mayhem, just as she had. She most certainly was looking forward to nothing more than quiet, possibly even boring, times. Besides, Keepsake Cove had surely met its quota for major crime. She grabbed her keys and flicked off the lights. Nothing worse than jaywalking or littering was likely to happen around here now.

  A car filled with boisterous teens dressed for Halloween drove noisily by as Callie pulled the door closed behind her, so she didn’t hear the tune playing softly inside her shop. If she had, she might have had a second thought.

  The tune, after all, was coming from Grandpa Reed’s music box.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  Many thanks, once again, to the patient and supportive members of my critique group: Shaun Taylor Bevins, Becky Hutchison, Debbi Mack, Sherriel Mattingly, Bonnie Settle, Beth Schmelzer, and Marcia Talley, for keeping me on track, on schedule, and quite often in stitches.

  I’m very grateful for the efforts of Terri Bischoff, Sandy Sullivan, and the entire Midnight Ink team, who saw that my story made it into print at its best, and to Kim Lionetti, who got the ball rolling.

  Top thanks go, as always, to my husband, Terry, who listens to my often tangled ideas and helps straighten them out as well as willingly pitches in to find ways around the dreaded blank wall when it appears. This might have been a very different book without him.

  About the Author

  Mary Ellen Hughes is the bestselling author of the Pickled and Preserved Mysteries (Penguin), the Craft Corner Mysteries (Penguin), and the Maggie Olenski Mysteries (Avalon), along with several short stories. A Vintage Death continues her Keepsake Cove mystery series with Midnight Ink, which began with A Fatal Collection. A Wisconsin native, she has lived most of her adult life in Maryland, where she’s set many of her stories. Visit her online at www.MaryEllenHughes.com.