by Rose Pressey
Maybe I was crazy for going, but I’d done a lot of crazy things lately. What was one more, right? Much to Charlotte’s and Sam’s chagrin, I’d attempted to go through my morning routine and dressed in a pink polka-dot dress with pink shoes. They had preferred that I get up before the sun and head to Savannah. I’d finally convinced them that Shandra wouldn’t be working that early anyway. After that the night had been kind of relaxing or as relaxing as it could be with all things considered. I’d also managed to write on my blog. No other strange messages had appeared . . . yet. I was definitely on the lookout though.
It was a pleasant stretch of driving, even if Charlotte talked too much. I tapped my fingers against the steering wheel in rhythm to the forties big-band music that streamed from the car’s speakers. I tried to relax, but I was still worried about talking with Shandra.
“It’s such a beautiful day for a ride, don’t you think, Charlotte?” Sam leaned forward in the backseat.
She fidgeted. I still had to find out why she was being so quiet around Sam. Sam deflated back into his seat and didn’t ask any other questions. I felt sorry for him.
“Is everything okay, Charlotte?” I prodded.
“You’d better watch the road.” Charlotte pointed at the nearly empty highway.
I knew she was trying to change the topic and I guess I’d have to accept that for now.
The address that I’d found for Shandra was on the outer edge of the historic district. On my right was another old cemetery and on the left the old brick buildings trimmed the street. I just hoped that I’d found the right address. I hoped that I didn’t get lost in the labyrinth of streets looking for it. Savannah is the oldest city in Georgia, its historic district a maze of live oaks. I counted down the numbers on the buildings until I came to the right one. I pulled into the parking lot and into the first available parking space.
Parking my car had never been an easy task, but I somehow squeezed in between a Mustang and a Toyota. I cut the engine, grabbed my purse, and headed toward the building. I had made really good time, so I wasn’t sure if Shandra would be there yet. I didn’t think I’d make the drive so quickly. Since I was already there, though, I had to go ahead and check. If she wasn’t there I would just have to wait until she showed up.
The address was located in an old redbrick building. It looked as if at one time it might have been used as a small factory. We walked up to the building and I opened the glass entrance door. I looked over and spotted the elevator that would take me up to the fourth floor, but based on the look of the thing, I figured I’d be better off taking the stairs.
“Why can’t everything be on the first floor?” I said as I climbed yet another flight.
“Oh, suck it up, buttercup, that’s what you do the yoga every morning for,” Charlotte said.
Easy for her to say since she could just float up to the top. I still had to take the hard way up.
“Hurry up down there,” Charlotte yelled from the top step.
“I’m coming,” I said as I tried to sound as if I wasn’t winded.
Once I reached the door marked with Shandra’s name, I pushed it open and stepped inside. A desk was right in front of the door, and more chairs on the right side of the room. Everything was piled high with fabric and papers. There was no place to actually sit down. So far I hadn’t seen anyone in the room.
“It looks like no one is here,” I whispered.
I moved closer to the glass desk, and called out, “Is anyone here?”
A rustling sounded and I hoped it wasn’t a rat. I leaned closer and saw a blond woman in a navy wrap dress on the floor surrounded by fabric and papers. It was just then that she noticed me. She tossed the papers in the air.
“You startled me.” She clutched her chest. “May I help you?” She eyed me up and down.
“Oh, I didn’t think anyone was actually in the room. I’m sorry,” I said.
“Tell her you have an appointment,” Sam urged.
“I have an appointment to see Shandra.” I looked at the door just behind her desk.
She quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. I’m her assistant, I know all of her appointments and I know she didn’t have one scheduled for now.” She glanced at her watch.
“I don’t know what to tell you, but I have an appointment with her.” This was her assistant? What happened to Rita Riggs? I thought she was Shandra’s assistant. If not, then who was she?
She marched over to her desk and picked up an appointment book.
Charlotte focused her attention on a vase that sat on the edge of the desk. I knew what she was trying to do. I wasn’t sure if it would work. This woman looked like she wouldn’t be scared of anything. Charlotte wouldn’t let that stop her though. Charlotte reached out and pushed toward the vase. At first nothing happened, but then with another thrust of her hand the vase tumbled to the ground. Glass shattered and was now all over the floor.
“Oh no, how did that happen?” She raced over to the mess.
Charlotte motioned for me to go into the office. I watched the woman for a moment longer.
“Good thinking with the distraction, Charlotte,” Sam said.
Charlotte avoided looking at him. “Thank you.”
The woman was so distracted I didn’t think she would notice anything I did. Now that the assistant was busy cleaning up the mess and not watching me, I opened the door and eased inside. It felt wrong to be in there, but I did it anyway. This was a mission that I had to see through. This was my chance to go inside the office and have a little look around.
“Well, thanks anyway,” I said.
She didn’t even look up. She was too occupied with the broken glass to even answer me. I don’t know how Charlotte had known, but somehow she did. I guess we made a good team after all. I watched the woman as I made my way to the door. With my hand on the knob, I glanced back one more time to see if she was watching me. I took the chance, opened the door, and hurried inside.
The decor reeked of glamour and high fashion. An even larger and more majestic glass desk stood in front of the double windows hung with sheer white curtains. Plush white rugs decorated the top of the hardwood floors. The tables and desks were full of papers and fabric though. She had bulletin boards on the walls with sketches of clothing and swatches of fabric.
“Where should I start?” I asked.
“It’ll be like trying to find a needle in a haystack,” Charlotte said.
I guess I had to get started somewhere. This stuff wasn’t going to look through itself. I walked over to the desk and leafed through the first pile of papers I saw. How did this woman keep track of anything? She really needed an organizer.
I sifted through the next set of papers on her desk. I had no idea what I was looking for.
“What am I looking for?” I asked.
“Anything that would put her at the scene of the crime,” Sam said.
“But I already know she was there at the fashion show. What else would have put her any closer to the scene of the crime? Maybe something that she took from Melanie?”
“Or something that said they had a meeting,” Charlotte said.
“I doubt I’ll find anything, but I’ll give it a try.” I moved over to a small table beside the desk. I lifted stacks of papers. It was all either bills or orders. Nothing that stood out to be of any importance to me. I couldn’t stop yet, though, until I’d at least skimmed through the rest of them. I picked up a paper and read the first few lines.
“Hmm. This is interesting,” I said.
“What did you find?” Sam stood behind me.
“It’s a legal document. It looks as if Shandra was suing Melanie for stealing her designs.”
“Wow. So she did mean business.” Charlotte looked over my shoulder.
In spite of what I’d found, it was looking more and more like there was no way I would get Hannah out of jail. I took out my phone and pulled the camera function up on the screen. I snapped a couple pictures of the paper in
case I needed another look at it later. After taking the pictures, I shoved the phone back into my bag.
“You know how much trouble I could get in for this,” I whispered.
“It’s not like you took anything,” Charlotte said.
“Just tell them you got lost,” Sam said. “Act innocent. That’s what I always did.”
“Act innocent. Tell them I got lost. Got it,” I said.
“Don’t worry, you won’t get caught,” Charlotte said. “The assistant said she wouldn’t be back for at least an hour.”
“That was true, but what if she came back early?”
“Life is full of what-ifs, we can’t worry about them though,” Charlotte said.
As I placed the document back on the stack and turned to leave, something on the floor caught my attention. The silver sparkled. I reached down and picked it up. I turned it around in my hands.
“What is it?” Sam asked.
“It’s a charm from the bracelet that I sold to Melanie.”
“The same one you found at the concert?” Charlotte asked.
“Yes, it’s the same one. It has to be. It’s from the 1920s. There can’t be another one like it around here,” I said.
“The question is, was Melanie wearing the bracelet on the night of her murder?” Charlotte said.
I tried to think back, but I couldn’t remember if she’d been wearing it. That day had been chaotic. I was surprised I had remembered anything from that day. I tried to think back to her outfit, but it wouldn’t come to me. And I thought I always remembered what people were wearing. What was happening to me? Was I losing my touch?
I shoved the silver and black heart charm in my pocket. I knew that this had to be the one from Melanie’s bracelet. There was only one way Shandra could have gotten it. She had to have taken it from Melanie. But did that mean she had been at the concert that night? And if so, why had she been there? Was she with Meaghan and Rita? Why hadn’t I seen her? I should confront her about the bracelet when I see her. If she was involved in the murder she would just deny it though. I had to ask around and see if anyone had seen her wearing it. Someone had to have noticed her with it on. I would have to ask everyone who was behind the scenes of the show that day. How long would that take? And how would I locate everyone?
The door opened and Shandra stopped in her tracks. Her face turned a bright shade of red and she glared at me. Her fists were clenched at her sides. The assistant ran up behind her.
“I had no idea she was in here, Shandra. I told her she couldn’t come in here. She must have got past me somehow,” she said.
Shandra raised her hand. “That’s okay, Christy. I can handle it from here.” Shandra sounded pretty confident about that too.
She placed her hands on her hips and glared at me.
“She means business now,” Sam said.
I didn’t need that fact pointed out to me, I could already tell.
“I’m sorry if I am disturbing you,” I said.
“You’re in my private office, yes, I’d say you are disturbing me.”
“I can call the police,” Christy said.
“This Christy woman needs to mind her own business.” Charlotte stared at Christy.
“That won’t be necessary,” Shandra said. “I’m sure she was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Shandra didn’t take her eyes off me.
“I don’t think that’s a suggestion,” Sam said.
Very observant of him.
“I came to see you,” I said.
She scowled and looked me up and down. “What do you want?”
Charlotte moved closer to Shandra. “You’d better think of something quick. She looks like she is ready to snap you in half.”
Thanks for pointing that out, Charlotte.
“I don’t have a meeting with you. What do you want?” she demanded.
“I came to talk to you about Melanie,” I stammered.
“I have nothing to discuss about her,” she said.
“I also wanted to talk to you about your designs,” I said.
“What designs?” she asked.
“The designs that Melanie took from you.” I gave her a satisfied smile. I bet she hadn’t planned on me knowing that bit of information.
She narrowed her eyes. “What about them?”
“She took the designs from you. I guess you were really upset about that.”
“You need to get out of my office right now.” She pointed toward the door.
“Uh-oh, I think it’s time for you to leave.” Charlotte began inching toward the exit.
When I didn’t think I could come up with another excuse, I ran toward her office door. If she caught me she’d probably push me out the fourth-floor window. I just hoped that she didn’t reach out and grab me as I ran past. I raced out the door and down the stairs. I prayed that I wouldn’t tumble headfirst down them.
“Is she back there?” I panted.
There was no way I was slowing down enough to look back.
“She isn’t back there yet,” Charlotte said.
Could I get away without her coming after me? Could I really get that lucky? I finally made it to the bottom and rushed out into the parking lot.
When I glanced back I didn’t see her. “Whew. That was a close one.”
“And you didn’t even have to use the excuse I gave you,” Sam said.
“Lucky me,” I said as I climbed behind the wheel. “It’s time for us to get out of here.” Thank goodness the Buick started on the first crank of the engine.
Chapter 20
Sam’s Surefire Sleuthing Pointer
Place an identifying mark on the suspect’s car.
It’ll be easy to track them down.
I opened the shop and was recovering, but when I looked up and saw Brooke walking through the door I knew that was about to change. Her stare was focused on me like a laser. She wore black trousers and a black silk blouse.
“I can tell you where to throw the punches if she comes after you,” Sam said.
I certainly hoped that wouldn’t be necessary. I wasn’t going to fight Brooke. She closed the distance between us quickly. Now she was standing right in front of the counter, glaring at me.
“Give her a dirty look right back,” Charlotte said.
Charlotte wasn’t helping. I would be nice to Brooke and maybe that would defuse the situation.
“Why did you tell the police to come to my salon?” Her face was a bright shade of red.
“You don’t have to tell her anything,” Charlotte said.
It was a good thing Brooke couldn’t hear Charlotte’s comments. The two of them would be in a hair-pulling fight within a matter of seconds.
Brooke tapped her foot while impatiently waiting for my answer. I knew I had to say something.
“I only told them what I thought they needed to know,” I said.
“You are a busybody and you should mind your own business,” Brooke said.
I couldn’t believe she had come here to confront me.
“You tell her that we know she is lying.” Charlotte pointed her finger at Brooke.
Charlotte walked a circle around Brooke. Brooke frowned as if she felt Charlotte’s presence. Maybe she sensed the cool air that followed Charlotte wherever she went.
Charlotte inched closer to Brooke. “We know that shoe was put there by her. She can just quit the act.”
“Be careful, Cookie,” Sam said. “If she’s the killer, then she wouldn’t think twice about hurting you . . . or worse.”
That was a way to ease my fears. The ghosts weren’t helping.
“I don’t mean to intrude or seem like a busybody,” I said, trying to calm Brooke down.
“It didn’t work, you know. The police never found the shoe.” Brooke smirked.
“Why is she proud of that? A potentially innocent woman is in jail and she should want to help if she can,” Sam said.
Charlotte stalked around Brooke again like a tiger ready to bounce on its prey
. “Tell her to leave your shop immediately.”
“Well, maybe not before she asks a few questions.” Sam glanced at Charlotte.
I couldn’t think straight for all the ghostly chatter.
“What did you do with the shoe?” I asked. I didn’t figure she would answer my question, but I had to ask nonetheless. “And why did you hide it from the police?”
“I think you know the answer to that,” Charlotte said.
Yes, I figured I did know, but maybe confronting Brooke with the questions would help solve this mystery in some way.
“I figured there was no need for it, so I threw it away.” She smiled as if extremely satisfied with her feat.
“She threw it away? That is a criminal offense.” Sam rubbed his temples.
“Why did you throw it away?” I asked.
She scoffed. “You don’t think I wanted them to find something that would potentially name me as a murder suspect,” she said.
She did have a point there.
“She’s acting as if she is innocent,” Charlotte said.
Brooke pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Look, I didn’t put the shoe there, so why should I take the blame for it?”
I guess I would have to give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, I was doing the same for Hannah and she was the one who had been found standing over the body. I’d seen her with my own eyes.
“Someone left it in my shop. I never saw it before in my life,” she said.
“Does she expect us to believe that?” Charlotte asked.
“You don’t know who left it?” I asked.
Brooke looked down at the black flats on her feet and shook her head.
“Who would bring a shoe and leave it somewhere?” Charlotte asked.
That was a good question? “Why would someone do that?” I asked.
Brooke shrugged. “I don’t know and I would love nothing more than to find out. I think the police are watching me now, though, thanks to you.”
