Tapestry of Lies: A Weaving Mystery

by Martin, Carol Ann

  “Hello-o. Anybody here?”

  From the back came the sound of the coffee grinder. Coffee would be ready in a few minutes, thank goodness. I shook the rain off my coat and picked up the phone. I dialed my message code. “You have zero messages.” Bunny had still not returned my call—what a surprise.

  “Who was that on the phone?” asked Marnie from the doorway.

  “Oh, hi. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “I just walked in.” She shook the rain off the zebra-print umbrella, which matched her zebra-print raincoat. She closed it, leaning it against the doorframe.

  “I was just checking my messages. Sill no news from Bunny.” I walked around the counter. “I’m getting myself a cup. You want one?”

  Marnie chuckled. “Yes, please. If I don’t get one soon, I’ll turn into a worse grump than you.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Put a smile on your face, child.”

  I headed toward the back. Jenny greeted me with a cheerful “Good morning.”

  “How do you do it? You’re in a good mood no matter what the weather.”

  Her lips tilted at the corner. “If you’d had the night I did, you’d be happy too.”

  I wiggled an eyebrow. “I take it you’re talking about a night with a certain good doctor?”

  She blushed. “No, I mean I had a really good night’s sleep.”

  “Sure you did.” I picked up the cups she handed me and winked. “Or maybe you were dreaming about the good doctor.” I hurried to the front before she could think of a smart retort.

  Marnie had slipped out of her raincoat. I noticed the bag in her hands.

  She carried it over. “I have another four place mats.”

  “So fast!”

  “I’ve been weaving so many years, it’s as easy as pie for me.” She snapped her fingers. “And speaking of pies, I gave Jenny an apple-cranberry pie I want her to test with customers. You’ll have to let me know if you like it.”

  “There’s no question I’ll like it. The question is, will I still fit in my clothes afterward?”

  Marnie rolled her eyes. “You are so fat—why, you’re practically obese.”

  The bell rang, and Matthew came in followed by Winston. “Hey,” he said, walked over and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  “Hey to you too.” He unclipped Winston’s leash and the pooch jumped up at me. I pushed him off. “Down, Winnie. You’re getting me all wet.” The dog trotted away, dropping onto his cushion. He glanced back at me, looking insulted.

  “Did you show Jenny and Marnie the picture?” Matthew asked.

  “Oh, shoot. I forgot it upstairs. I’ll run up and get it.” I hurried to the door. “Be right back.”

  I was halfway up when I heard a door close. A moment later, Margaret appeared at the top of the stairs. “Hi, Della.”

  “Hi.” And then I noticed her French bulldog on a leash. “Hi, Clementine. How are you this morning?”

  “She had a good night. We slept here for the first time last night.”

  I reached the landing and petted her. “Hello, pretty girl. Are you going to visit Winston downstairs?”

  “Is he there now?” Margaret asked.

  “He is. You should stop by. I’ll be only a minute.” I hurried to my apartment and raced back down.

  Back in the shop, I looked around. The only person there was Marnie. “Where’s Matthew?”

  “He was in a rush to get somewhere. He said to tell you he’d pick up Winston around two. Oh, and Margaret’s in the back with Jenny.” She pointed behind the counter. “And guess who’s got a girlfriend.”

  I walked around. There was Winston nuzzling with Clementine. “Ah, that’s so cute. Now the only one around here who needs a boyfriend is me.”

  “And me,” Marnie quipped, planting her hands on her ample hips.

  I stopped myself from laughing. “I didn’t know you wanted one.”

  “Hey, I may be middle-aged, but I’m not dead. I still have needs, you know.” I must have looked shocked because she added, “I’m talking about affection—you know, like hugging—and company.” She glanced at the file I’d just dropped on the counter. “What’s that?”

  “Matthew got copies of all the models McDermott photographed over the years. The police already identified all of them except for one. Matthew thought you might recognize her.”

  Marnie came closer. I handed her the picture. She stared at it for a long time.

  “What do you think? Have you ever seen her before?”

  She put it back in the folder and handed it to me with a shrug. “I have no idea who she is. She looks somewhat familiar, but it could be she just reminds me of somebody.”

  I let out a long breath. “She looks familiar to me, but I can’t place her. I was thinking that she might be someone local. A person can change a lot after ten or twenty years.”

  “True, but I think I’d recognize that nose. That’s quite a honker she’s got.” It wasn’t a very nice comment, but I was used to Marnie’s blunt ways. She paused. “The person you really should ask is Jenny. She’s lived in Briar Hollow her whole life.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “I was born here, but when I got married I followed my husband to Charlotte. I didn’t move back here until ten years ago. Whoever that girl is, she might have lived here during the years I was away.”

  I picked up the file. “I’ll go ask her now.”

  “She’s got a shop full of customers, and Margaret is with her. A bunch of people came in while you were upstairs.”

  I’d been gone for only a minute. “Good for her.” I picked up Marnie’s place mats and studied them. Each was woven in a different color against the same white warp. One was navy, one red, one forest green, and the last one was a golden yellow. “An odd set; how pretty.”

  “I thought it might be interesting to make something different for a change.”

  I placed my white coffee mug on the red mat. “Look at that. They’ll look great on a breakfast table, especially with white dishes.”

  She headed for her loom and settled comfortably in her chair. Soon a few customers walked in. I slid the folder with the picture of the unknown model under the counter and hurried forward.

  “Welcome to Dream Weaver. Can I help you?” The women were lookers. They strolled around for a few minutes, and just when I was sure they were about to leave, one of them picked up the new place mats Marnie had just brought in.

  “These are so colorful. What do you think?” she asked her friend. “Aren’t they fun?” She looked at the tag. “I’m taking them.” She picked them up and marched over to the counter. A few minutes later they had left. The shop was empty again.

  I waved my sales book to Marnie. “We’re out of place mats again.”

  “I saw that. You’re right. I can’t make them fast enough.”

  “I’d better call all my weavers and tell them to get going on place mats.” I picked up the phone. A few minutes later, I had promises for eight sets, and there were still two weavers I hadn’t been able to reach.

  Marnie chuckled. “Eight sets should last you at least a couple of days.” Her next question was one I’d been asking myself. “What are you going to do when you hear from Bunny?”

  A group of Jenny’s customers walked through the shop at that moment, and I waited until they had left. “I think her silence is speaking loud and clear. She doesn’t want to sign that agreement, and I can’t afford to work with a customer like that.”

  “So you’ve made up your mind?”

  I hesitated. “Oh, God. I just don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?” Jenny asked from behind me.

  I turned around. She had a tray in her hands. Margaret was standing next to her, wearing a grin. She placed a platter of fresh muffins on the counte
r.

  “Bunny Boyd still hasn’t come in to sign that contract.”

  “You should see that as a sign,” she said. “Don’t work with her. I told you. You’d so regret it.”

  Margaret frowned. “I hope you’re not hesitating on my account?”

  Marnie and Jenny looked at her, puzzled. “Why would it have anything to do with you?” asked Marnie.

  I explained. “I found out that Bunny gave Jenny the contract and then pulled it away from her suddenly, leaving her with all the yarn she’d already purchased for the project. That’s why Margaret had to close her studio.”

  They looked at her for confirmation. Margaret nodded, but added uncomfortably, “It isn’t as bad as Della makes it sound.”

  “It sounds plenty bad to me,” Jenny said.

  “Don’t worry. If I turn her down it will be for my own reasons.”

  Marnie nodded. “It’s true. She gave Della a bad check.”

  “To be fair, she made good on that check right away. It was just a mistake. The reason I don’t want to deal with her is that she isn’t reliable. I’ve asked her more than once to agree in writing that if she changes her mind, the deposit is nonrefundable. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but if she decides to sue me for that deposit, she can afford a lawyer much more than I can. I can’t order that amount of yarn without feeling safe.”

  “I have an idea,” Margaret said. “Why don’t you buy the yarn from me? I already have the full amount you’d need to fill the contract. You can pay me when you get paid, and if Bunny pulls a number, then you can sell the fabric you’ve already produced, return the rest of the yarn and pay me only for what you’ve used.” She saw my hesitation. “Think about it,” she insisted. “It’s a good idea. It would benefit both of us.”

  It was a great idea, but for some reason I still hesitated. “Let me think about it.”

  “On another note,” Jenny said, putting an end to the subject, “I have good news. Della, Marnie, meet my new employee, Margaret.”

  Margaret laughed. “Not only her first, but also her only employee.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I said. “Good for you. When do you start?”

  “Right now,” she said.

  Jenny passed coffee all around and we clicked mugs.

  Margaret took a sip and then excused herself. “I have to get back. I can’t stand around chatting. I have a job to do, you know.” She hurried to the back.

  “She’s going to be great,” Jenny said. “I have a good feeling about her.”

  I suddenly remembered the picture. “I have something I want you to take a look at.” I pulled out the file and handed it to Jenny. “Do you recognize this woman?”

  She studied it in silence for a few seconds and then shook her head slowly. “I can’t say that I do. Is she supposed to be from around here?”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea. I told you about the photographs I found in McDermott’s studio. They’ve all been identified except for this one. Nobody knows who she is.”

  Jenny studied it again. “Do you have any other pictures of her, maybe one from a different angle?”

  “No. That’s the odd thing. There are dozens of pictures of every other model, but only this one of her. Matthew thinks McDermott might not have been as inspired by her.”

  “Because of that honker,” Marnie said.

  “This picture looks like it was taken decades ago,” Jenny said.

  I nodded. “Judging by the hairstyle and the makeup, it looks to be about twenty years old to me.”

  Marnie came over and stared down at the picture. “Della thinks she reminds her of somebody, but she can’t figure out who.”

  “I don’t know. I could be wrong about that.”

  At that moment, Margaret returned. “I just wanted to ask you how—” Her eyes fell on the open file on the counter. She stared at the picture and blanched.

  “What is it?” I said. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” she answered in a tight voice. “I’d better get back.” Before anyone could say another word, she whirled around and hurried to the coffee shop.

  Marnie stared after her. “What the heck was that all about?”

  Puzzled, I said, “I have no idea.”

  Jenny was quiet for a moment. “All I know is the minute she laid eyes on that picture, her aura went from soft blue to a dark gray.”

  Marnie frowned and stared down at the picture. “Do you think she recognized the woman?”

  It hardly made sense to me. “She’s a bit young to have known her. She couldn’t have been more than a baby when that picture was taken. But I think she does know something.” I turned to Jenny. “Give me a minute with her.” I hurried to the back.

  Margaret was sweeping the coffee shop floor. She saw me and scowled.

  “Tell me,” I said, putting a restraining hand on the door handle. “You recognize that woman, don’t you? Who is she?”

  Something like fear flashed through her gray eyes and she looked away. “I have no idea who she is. I’m sorry, Della. I can’t talk now. I’m working.”

  “Come on, Margaret. Jenny won’t mind. Please, tell me—”

  “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” she said, whipping off her apron. “I should find another job.” She threw it on the back of a nearby chair and stormed through the beaded curtains. A moment later, I heard her snap a command at Clementine. “Come, Clem.” Then the bell above the door tinkled.

  Jenny came in, looking bewildered. “What the hell just happened?”

  “I think she just quit.” I shook my head, baffled. “It’s my fault. I must have pushed her too hard. I’ll go talk to her.”

  I hurried after Margaret, taking the stairs to her apartment as fast as I could. I knocked on the door. “Margaret. Please don’t quit. Jenny needs you. I promise I won’t question you again.”

  My pleading was met with silence. I stared at the door for a long time. What could Margaret be so afraid of?

  Chapter 13

  I returned downstairs, puzzled. When I walked in, Jenny had returned to her shop and Marnie instantly bombarded me with questions.

  “Why did she run away like that? Does she know something? Did she recognize the girl in the picture?”

  “She wouldn’t answer the door,” I said, staring at the picture before shoving the folder into the drawer. “Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn she looked scared. She ran into her apartment and locked the door.”

  Jenny wrinkled her nose. “What the heck is going on?”

  The bell above the door tinkled, and a moment later Matthew walked in. I looked at my watch—eleven. What was he doing back here so early?

  “Hey there, gorgeous,” he said, putting all thoughts of unknown models, of murder and of suspects out of my mind.

  I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “Are you talking to me?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Marnie said, striking a pose. “You’re talking to me, right, handsome?”

  “Right,” he said, the crinkles around his eyes deepening. “I like that blouse you’re wearing.”

  “I was hoping you would,” she said, batting her lashes.

  I dropped down and petted Winston. “I don’t care that Matthew likes Marnie better, just as long as you like me, right, Winnie?” I glanced up at Matthew.

  He grinned back at me. “I was wondering if you’d mind keeping him a little later this afternoon. I could pick him up around six or so.”

  “Great, and then you can come up and have dinner with me—beef bourguignon.”

  His eyes lit up. “That’s an invitation I won’t turn down. I’ll bring the wine.”

  I glanced at Marnie, who was nodding furiously and batting her lashes again.

  I smiled at Matthew. “Mashed or roasted?”

  “
Mashed, by all means.”

  “Great, dinner will be ready at seven.”

  “Perfect,” Matthew said. “And just to prove I trust your cooking, I won’t bother bringing the pizza.” He headed for the door, threw me a smile and left.

  The door swung shut and Marnie threw her hands in the air. “By God, she’s got it.” She turned to me. “You actually did it right this time. You flirted.”

  “I did?”

  She raised a hand and high fived me. “That proves it. There’s hope for you yet.”

  She returned to her loom, singing, or rather, screeching some old love song—something about a fellow needing a girl in his arms. Winston, who was lying in front of the counter, sat up and howled along with her.

  I laughed. “I think he’s telling you not to quit your day job.” I pulled his cushion from under the counter and fluffed it up. “Come, Winnie.” He stopped howling and dropped back down. I threw him a piece of jerky and soon he was snoring contentedly.

  The day flew by with a constant stream of customers. The shop was so busy that I didn’t have a minute to slip into the back to order a sandwich until nearly two o’clock—good thing, considering Jenny had lost her new employee and was running herself ragged.

  By then I was famished. But when I walked in, the tea shop was still packed. Ever since the Coffee Break had been closed, Jenny’s business had doubled almost daily. I waved at her from the beaded curtain, and she signaled that she’d get back to me. I walked back out. Damn, if her shop continued being that busy, I’d have to start bringing in my own lunch. And I wasn’t even any good at making sandwiches. That thought suddenly reminded me that I’d promised Matthew beef bourguignon for dinner. Shit.

  I ran to the front, shouted at Marnie that I was going grocery shopping and I’d be right back. I grabbed my coat and was about to tear out of there when Julia Anderson walked in. I threw Marnie a panicked look.