Killer, Paper, Cut (The Kiki Lowenstein Mysteries)

by Campbell Slan, Joanna

  "About our living accom-accommo-accommodations?" I asked as I held up a pair of crossed fingers.

  He looked at me curiously. "You okay?"

  I promised him that I was fine, even though I was lying. My head was still foggy, and I kept forgetting words. The doctor had warned me that this was to be expected after a dose of carbon monoxide. Even bouts of dizziness and nausea could re-occur.

  But I didn't want to worry Detweiler.

  "Sure," I said brightly. "You know me, I'm not an early morning person. Okay, I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go!"

  Margit is a stickler for protocol. First I signed the check for Faye Edorra and tucked it into a security envelope. Then we sat down with the figures from the Zentangle tangle-ation.

  "Very profitable," she said. "This brought us five new customers over the past month and a half. Only one problem."

  "What's that?"

  "The materials for tonight's crop did not arrive. We have twenty people signed up."

  "How many people?" I was still having trouble processing information.

  "Twenty," she repeated.

  Dodie had kept a large amount of stuff in inventory. Too much, actually. Margit, Clancy, and I agreed to keep our inventory as low as possible. With high inventory, too many items got lost, the trends changed too quickly, and worst of all, paper got wonky when it sat in storage.

  Most of the time our inventory needs were spot on. We came up with exactly what we needed before we needed it. But once in a while, things didn't work as planned. On occasion, suppliers didn't ship items as they promised. When that happened, all my creative talents were taxed to the max.

  "We are so close to Halloween," I said, "and we announced in our email blast that this would be a Halloween décor crop."

  She nodded. "The premade Halloween houses were in that shipment. That's what you planned to use."

  "I can't go back on my word," I said. "I have to come up with something."

  "Ja," she said, "and you will. You always do."

  Time to take a walk, I decided. That always got my creative juices flowing. "Come on, Gracie."

  As we started our trek, I put on my thinking cap. What to do, what to do? I was at the corner, watching Gracie water the grass at the end of the sidewalk when I glanced up at an elderly man standing in the window of one of the few remaining houses on our block. Since this patch of real estate is slowly become commercial, but still primarily residential, a few houses are still occupied by their original owners.

  "Hiya, Mr. Hastlehorst," I said. I'm not sure whether he heard me through the glass or not, but he waved. Mr. Hastlehorst was probably in his eighties, a scarecrow of a man, with no hair on the top of his head, just owl-like tufts over his ears. He stared at my dog and me through foggy glasses.

  What was his life like? Was he lonely like Leighton had been? Who visited him? I'd never seen a car in his drive. Nor had I seen anyone coming and going. The paper cat in his window was tattered, with neon green eyes. Was that his idea of decorating for the season? I decided right then and there that my store would be a better neighbor. We could go from door to door, introduce ourselves, and hand out goody bags. A sort of reverse trick or treat. Since I knew that most of the residents were older, we could also check on them frequently and make sure they were doing all right. It was the least we could do, and something well within our means.

  Gracie and I made our last turn and headed toward the store. As it often happened, an idea popped into my head.

  "Come on, Gracie!" I said, and I started running for Time in a Bottle. I couldn't wait to give my new idea a whirl!

  Chapter 82

  Margit was impressed by my makeshift make-and-take idea. She shook her head in amazement. "Schwarze Katze with eyes that glow!"

  "A black cat?" I guessed at the German translation.

  "Ja!" she laughed. "You will learn my language one phrase at a time."

  I sent Margit out for battery-operated tea lights, the one item we needed and didn’t have. Once she left, I hurried to my work table so I could start sketching and cutting paper.

  "Miss Kiki?" said Brawny.

  I jumped.

  "Sorry to have frightened you. I'd like for you to meet Miss Lorraine Lauber. She couldn't wait to see you."

  I stood, turned, and faced a woman hunched over a walker. Her sweet face immediately broke into a warm smile. Without a word, I reached for her and gave her a hug. "Thank you," I whispered in her ear. "We love Erik so much. You handled everything with Detweiler just right."

  "My pleasure," she said, as we broke apart. The scent of lavender lingered in the air, and I knew it came from Lorraine. "I couldn't wait another day to meet you."

  "I told her it was all right for her to bring her new companion. Is it all right that the dog's here?" asked Brawny. "His name is Paolo."

  She tugged on a leash and up trotted a large black dog covered in wiry, curling hair. When Lorraine paused, Paolo sat down beside her walker.

  "Of course! We're all lovers here," I said. "I mean, animal-lovers, of course."

  Drat. I thought I was getting better, but I still wasn't one hundred percent.

  Brawny stared at me curiously as she pulled up a chair with arms for Lorraine.

  "May I pet him?" I asked to cover my embarrassment. "I realize he's a working dog."

  "Yes, yes. He's still young so he needs socialization. Please do pat him." Lorraine backed carefully into her seat and looked around. "This is fascinating. So this is where you do your work. I loved the album that you made for Erik."

  "Brawny, show her the album you're doing of St. Louis sights," I suggested. "Miss Lauber have you had lunch? We have tons of food left over from last night."

  She asked that I call her Lorraine, and no, she hadn't had lunch, so Brawny offered to fix plates for us after she handed over the album. I sat next to Lorraine and turned the pages. Since Brawny hadn't been scrapbooking for long, she hadn't done the journaling, the verbiage that accompanies the photos. Instead, I acted as narrator.

  "That's, um, that's the house…" and I paused because I couldn't remember where the house was.

  I started again. "The house that my mother and sisters rent in U City. The one we might be moving to," I finished inelegantly. Rats. I could tell that as the day went on, and I was getting tired, my focus was slipping.

  The carbon monoxide had really done a number on my brain.

  What number?

  I didn't know…

  "Moving? But I thought that Anya loves where you are living now, even though it is small." Lorraine’s eyes were laser sharp. Whatever her problems with her body, her mind was obviously keen.

  "Yes, well," and I told her about Leighton and Melissa. My discourse rambled. I babbled. Brawny observed me with her head tilted. She was assessing me, and I had a hunch she was finding me wanting. I hoped she wouldn't tell Detweiler. I didn't know who would lead the crop tonight if I couldn't.

  "I heard that you rescued your neighbor, but Brawny didn't explain what that meant in terms of your living arrangements," Lorraine said. Either she didn't think anything was wrong with me, or she was too tired to care.

  I tried to keep it light. "We're not homeless, but Detweiler has warned me not to get my heart set on staying in the little house. He'll be talking to Leighton later today. The poor man lost everything, or so I've heard. Even if his attorney can get everything untangled, that might take time. He might not have any choice but to sell the house so he can pay the attorney when it's all said and done."

  "Are you familiar with To Kill a Mockingbird?"

  "Yes, of course. One of my favorites."

  "Harper Lee also lost her rights to the book. As I understand it, there are negotiations for her to get them back, but she's in poor health," said Lorraine, letting her voice trail off.

  "I can't imagine what Leighton is going through," I said. "I'm trying not to focus on the problems this might cause us. Instead, I keep counting my blessings that he's alive."

&nbs
p; The expression on Lorraine's face changed. There was a narrowing of her eyes, a thoughtfulness. "Yes, I can see how lucky you both are," she said. "Have you considered buying a house?"

  "Sure, uh, sure thing," I said, losing focus again. "In fact, that's what we want to do. I have a little money coming from my late husband's business. That might be enough for a down payment, but not for a house in Webster Groves where we live now. Detweiler and I told Anya that we'll start looking. She can have input. The problem is that the houses in our price range will be quite a drive from CALA. Since you've been so kind to help with Brawny, she can do the carpool duty, although I sort of hate having the kids in a car for too much of the day."

  Lorraine nodded. "I wouldn't want them on the highway either."

  "That too. Although since they remodeled Highway 40, it's not as bad as it once was, but with Anya getting older, she'll want to do after-school activities. Webster Groves is closer to the store, too, so it’s more convenient all the way around. But there are other options. We could try South County." I paused. "I guess we'll just have to see what we can do."

  "Ah, but you'll be heading into bad weather, won't you?"

  "Yes," I said. "The worst will be in January when the baby’s due, because we always get an ice storm. But I remind myself that even if the weather is frightful, I love having holidays, the changing of the seasons, and all the trimmings. You'll be here for Thanksgiving?"

  "I knew I was invited for Christmas and Hanukkah, but Thanksgiving, too?" she truly looked surprised.

  "Of course. You're family. We're thankful for you. Why? Do you have other plans? If so, may I remind you that Paolo is welcome at our house? Not every hostess can boast of that!"

  *Note: Instructions for Kiki's Black Cat are at the end of this book!

  Chapter 83

  Brawny came out of the back room with a serving tray. On it were two paper plates piled high with the yummy leftovers from the night before. She excused herself to get her own food and then came back to join us.

  "Do you eat like this every time you have a cut?" asked Lorraine.

  "A cut?" I was mystified.

  "Yes, isn't that what you call it when you get together and scrapbook?"

  "Oh, a crop!" I said, and all three of us got the giggles.

  After we calmed down, Brawny asked me to tell Lorraine about our crops and what they were like. I did, and of course, the conversation turned to the horrible stabbing at the Halloween event. "It was just ugly," I said, as I explained the complicated dynamics behind the situation. Lorraine listened to Johnny's saga, the story of Mert's childhood, and to the events that led Laurel to hide her diabetes.

  "A new American tragedy," she said. "May I have another helping of this dessert?"

  "Better Than Sex?" asked Brawny.

  "Beg pardon?" Lorraine's eyebrows shot up.

  "That's what they call the dessert. Better Than Sex," I explained. "Although I've also heard that it's called Robert Redford."

  "Robert Redford?" asked Brawny. "The actor? Why?"

  "Because it's so yummy you want to lick it off your spoon," I said. Again we burst into gales of laughter. I had a hunch that my giggles were part of my not-so-keen mental function. But what the heck? If you can't laugh with friends, who can you laugh with?

  "I don't think I've laughed like this in ages," said Lorraine, using a paper napkin to dab at her eyes. "I'm so glad I came!"

  "So'm I," I said, sloppily. "I mean, so am I glad that you're here."

  "Brawny, could you do me a great big favor?" I asked. "Gracie hasn’t been outside for a while. Would you take her for a walk?"

  "I’d be delighted."

  The front door flew open as Brawny headed toward the back room. Faye Edorra marched in, looking mildly unhappy. She wore a lavender pants suit, a white blouse, and a men’s tie. I wondered if she was beginning to channel the Lavender Lady. Her arms were crossed over her chest, holding a black leather notebook as a shield. On it was the emblem for Charbonneau Community College.

  "Faye, I am so sorry about the mix up about the check," I said, jumping from my seat. "I have it right here. Please accept my apologies."

  She responded by glaring at me.

  "Um, the check's under here," I said, sliding off my stool. I misjudged the distance. Instead of going into a squat, I actually landed on my knees. That hurt.

  I had the vague impression that I was forgetting something. It occurred to me that I should have introduced Faye to Lorraine, but since Faye was obviously steaming, I decided against it. No reason to encourage Faye to hang around. Not if she was going to be ugly about my forgetting to sign her check. It wasn't like I'd purposely tried to stiff her.

  Okay, next problem.

  I'd assumed a kneeling position, but I couldn't find the security envelope. As I rummaged around, I heard Lorraine ask Faye about the weather.

  Good, I thought. My little lapse in manners was being overcome.

  "I know the check's down here somewhere," I sang out. But I sure couldn't put my hands on it. I lifted one box and then the other, all while staring at Faye's neatly pressed pants.

  I reached up and pulled myself halfway out from under the table. "That's a nifty tie, Faye. Really goes with the suit."

  "It belonged to my late husband," she said. "He died a few months ago."

  "I’m so sorry to hear that. Was it sudden?" I asked.

  "He was fired from his job. As a result he’d been depressed. Very, very depressed."

  "Oh, my!" said Lorraine. "That’s just tragic."

  "Yes," said Faye. "It was."

  "Please accept my condolences," I said.

  Faye seemed to relax some. The notebook dangled in her right hand. My head spun. I felt a tingle, like a breeze of cold air had traveled over my neck. I heard a soft growl and turned to see Paolo. The ruff of fur around his neck was standing at attention. His ears twitched as he stared at Faye with his ears pricked. I followed his gaze. His head was even with her notebook. On it was a sticker that said: Charbonneau Community College.

  What was it that Clancy had told me? I couldn't remember. I made one more dive under the worktable, and this time I managed to find the security envelope.

  "Here you go," I said, pulling myself to my feet. I showed Faye the envelope but I didn’t hand over the check. "Faye, did you attend Charbonneau?"

  I gestured toward the notebook cover.

  "My husband taught there." She spoke stiffly, and with a quick movement, she tried to pluck the check out of my hand.

  "Someone else I know went there," I said, thinking out loud. "Someone. Laurel! It was Laurel!"

  Chapter 84

  Faye gave me a shove backwards so that I bumped into the table, but I was too quick for her. I propelled myself off the surfaced and grabbed her by the lapels.

  "Run, Lorraine!"

  Behind me, I could hear Lorraine shuffling her feet. Meanwhile Faye tried to twist out of my grasp.

  I fought Faye and glanced over my shoulder. Lorraine was trying to move away, but her walker was tangled up Paolo’s leash. I couldn't believe it.

  The dog started barking at Faye. I gripped her suit lapels even harder. She grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, causing my teeth to rattle in my head.

  "Let me go!" screamed Faye. She wrestled with me, her hands pushing at my chest, trying to get away. I stayed stuck to her jacket like a cocklebur sticks to your socks.

  No matter what, I couldn’t turn loose of her jacket. If I did, she would get away. She might even hurt Lorraine. So I concentrated on gripping her lapels. The material was sturdy. She couldn’t go anywhere.

  Faye stuck her hand in my face and began to mash my nose. I tried to bite her and wound up giving her a nip. She yelped in surprise and slapped me. My head was spinning, and the room went twirling, too.

  I was tempted to let Faye go. The cops could catch up with her later. But images came to mind. Laurel with blood running down her neck. Laurel nearly dead on the gurney. No way was I going to
let Faye go free!

  "You tried to murder her!" I yelled. "You aren't getting away with this!"

  "Oh, yes, I am!" Faye's face turned red with anger. She kicked at me.

  "Ow!" I cried out as she connected with my shins, but I still didn't turn loose. In fact, I'd lost all feeling in my fingers. I couldn't have turned loose if I wanted to!

  We'd all missed it how she’d done it. Faye had blood on her from the start. I'd thought it was part of her costume. It had been, but it was also fresh blood. Mingled together, no one realized how much was Laurel’s.

  "How could you have done that?" I screamed at Faye.

  I heard a scraping sound once more. Lorraine was struggling with her walker. I had to keep Faye off balance until Lorraine was out of harm’s way.

  "Laurel never did anything to you!" I screamed at Faye.

  "She tempted him! With her twitchy little butt and her perfect boobs! She sent him emails! All he did was respond!"

  "Inappropriately!" I yelled. "He was her teacher!"

  "She was a Jezebel! That job was his whole life! They fired him because of her! And he died of a broken heart!"

  I didn't know how much more of this I could take. I heard the clomping sound of Lorraine's walker. How far behind me, I didn't know. Was she out of the way? How could I have been so stupid as to tip Faye off and endanger Lorraine?

  It happened because I wasn’t thinking clearly.

  I wouldn't be able to live with myself if Lorraine was hurt. I lowered my body and tried to head butt Faye.

  But she was too quick for me. She knew exactly what I was doing.

  "Laurel is a slut! You are too!" Faye shoved her palm into my face once again, forcing me down, shoving me to my knees. I couldn't fight her any longer. I was too tired, too worn out. She lifted the notebook and slammed it into my head. The smack sent my head spinning.

  "Fassen," Lorraine yelled. "Fassen!"

  Paolo sailed over my head and knocked Faye to the floor.