by Tonya Kappes
“I think I’m going to need a drink for this explanation.” She pushed her way between us and planted her tush on my stool. Putting her finger in the air, she ordered, “Whiskey sour, please. And make it a double.”
“This is Ernie?” My voice dripped with disgust. “He believes that I’m having an affair with Doug.”
I glared at him, not taking my eyes off him for one second.
“Was.” Ernie lifted his brows, exposing his beady little eyes. “He’s dead. Remember?”
“Oh!” I lunged toward him, Cheri pulled me back and my wig went flying off and smacked him square in the face.
“I knew you weren’t a real red head.” He threw the wig on the bar floor and turned back around in his seat.
“Aw, shut up.” I took another seat at the bar. There were plenty to choose from because my little fiasco had scared everyone off. The bartender shot my glass down the bar with a look of death. “Sorry.”
“What is going on here?” Bernadine got off her stool and grabbed the wig. “If I knew you wanted to be a redhead like me, I would’ve given you the name of my hair dresser.” She shook her head, her curls flying back and forth.
“Funny,” I murmured. “You know I asked Cheri to come here to find out what happened. She had this great idea that I should come here in disguise and hear from the regulars myself.”
“Really?” Cheri tipped her face and chuckled. “I didn’t realize that you were going to pick a fight…like Sean.”
“Okay, let’s not get feisty.” Bernadine stood up next to us. “It was a good plan, but you talked to the wrong guy. I told you that I would talk to Bennie’s PI. I wasn’t going to meet him alone, so meeting here was a good place to start.”
“Listen, I’m just here to make a buck.” He picked up his drink glass and tilted it toward me with his finger pointing at me. “I never intended to meet up with a fake red head.”
“Oh shut up.” I swung my head around Bernadine to see him. “I don’t want you investigating anything.”
“Great!” Ernie tossed back his drink and slammed down the glass along with a wad of cash. “I’ve got real innocent people to help.” Knocking back his stool, he walked out.
“Oh, Ernie, don’t leave.” Bernadine called after him. When he didn’t turn around, she did. “Now we don’t have a PI, Holly.”
“Who cares? He already had me convicted.” I hung my head, and laughed out loud when I looked down at the outfit I was wearing. “Look at me! Who am I kidding?”
“What are you talking about?” Cheri shook her head, and spoke in a slightly bitter tone.
“I’m here in your size two clothing, trying to look hip and desperately looking for a killer that is framing me.” I shuddered in humiliation, and then broke out in tears. “When in reality, I’m just pathetic. I’m going to jail.”
“No!” Cheri and Bernadine surrounded me.
“Don’t think like that.” Cheri hugged me. “We are going to figure this out.”
“That’s right.” Bernadine nodded. Her determination didn’t falter. “We Divas always figure out everything.”
Bernadine was right. We did always figure out any sticky situations we ever got in, but never murder.
Chapter Twelve
The next day, before I headed over to the Sloan’s with a veggie tray from the grocery store, I decided to give Sean a call.
Surely, he’d heard the news about Doug, and I was a bit surprised he hadn’t returned my calls.
We might be divorced, but he was still the nosiest man I’d ever known. He also felt he had a vested interest in The Beaded Dragonfly because he was paying me alimony, which was never on time nor in full.
“Sean, it’s Holly.” I said to his answering machine. “I need to talk to you. Please call me back. And it’s not about the alimony being late.”
I had to finish big because it was time to pay up and that’s generally the only time I called him.
I wondered where he was working this week. If I knew, I’d drive by after I gave my condolences to Ginger.
There was no parking on Main Street when I drove by the Sloan’s old Victorian house. There were people going in and out of the wrought-iron fence gate piled high with tin-foiled goodies. Parking at The Beaded Dragonfly was at a premium and I had Willow with me. I could park, check on the shop and walk back down Main Street to Ginger’s place.
The shop was safe and sound and I left Willow on the couch in the office. I checked the time, noting that Marlene would be there at any moment to open for me.
As I stepped over the spot where I found Doug, a chill went up my spine, just to think that a couple days ago, someone stood on this very spot and killed someone with a strand of my beads. Not to mention, they were trying to peg me as the murderer.
A couple of chattering women Walked into the shop and Willow ran toward them.
“I’m sorry.” I patted my leg for Willow to stop sniffing them. “We aren’t open this morning.”
The sign on the door was still flipped to display the closed side.
I wasn’t really afraid of offending them. The two plump women had been coming into the shop for about three months, and had never bought a single bead.
Without a word, they left and didn’t even look back.
I grabbed an open bag of chocolate chip crumbs and headed out the door.
The old Victorian house had been passed down the Sloan’s for generations. Lucky Ginger was now the proud owner, and was living in the creepy old mansion. Thank God, there wasn’t a clause in the will that stated the house had to stay the same, because Ginger had every room’s wallpaper stripped and painted and had replaced all the old cherry wood crown molding with white.
I peered into the parlor where everyone seemed to be gathering. Ginger spent most of her time there and today was no different. She was perched in the same high-back chair she always sat in. Leave it to Ginger to be all dolled up when she knew company would be coming. She always dressed like the artsy type, lots of layers, scarves, and dangling earrings. Her thick dark hair hung in long graceful curls around her shoulders and her hands lay delicately in her lap holding a few tissues.
I ran my hands through my dull brown bobbed-hair and pushed a stray strand behind my ear. I tugged the hem of my shirt to cover up the frumpy elastic-waist jeans I’d found at the local dollar shop.
When she blotted her eyes, she noticed me standing in the doorway.
She got up to greet me, the scarves delicately floating behind her, and said, “Oh, Holly, can you believe it?” Ginger’s eyes grew big.
I let out a small “eek” from the four small indentions she made into the flabby side of my upper arm as her nails dug into my flesh. I gripped the veggie tray tighter so I wouldn’t drop it and send veggies flying everywhere, with no Willow there to clean it up.
“Follow me.” There was urgency in her voice.
I tried to jerk away from her grip, but she had a vice-like hold and if I jerked too much, my skin would rip off. She nodded to the crowd of people gathered in the hallway while I spat out the tips of her scarves that were finding their way into my mouth. She dragged me into the guest bathroom and locked the door behind us.
The bathroom was bigger than my entire cottage. Ginger flung her back on the shut door and ordered me to sit in the vanity chair.
“Okay, spill the beans.” Ginger narrowed her eyes. “Who bought them?”
“Bought what?” She didn’t leave me time to tell her how sorry I was to hear about Doug.
I held the veggie tray in front of me. She took it and put it on the vanity.
“The strand of black cat eyes. Who bought them?” Ginger asked.
I nearly jumped out of my elastic waistband pants when someone pounded on the door.
“Ginger, are you in there?” Flora’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Um, hmm, you come on out here.” Bernadine confirmed.
“We Divas are here to support you.” Cheri blurted out a few
seconds later.
Ginger didn’t budge. She wanted an answer that I couldn’t give her.
“You have no idea, do you?” The corners of her mouth turned down after she asked the question. She propped herself up on the sink with her legs dangling. “There were a lot of people who don’t like Doug, but who would want to kill him?”
I thought about the orders I got from the distributer. The beads come on a length of yarn to cushion them and keep them from breaking against each other. The ends were tied with very tight knots. Every time I cut them off, I think I could make a really cool hat or knitted a sweater from all the yarn I was throwing away—if only I was a knitter.
“We can’t talk about this here.” I whispered. “What if the killer is here?”
“You gonna open up this door? Don’t make me think of my ex-husband!” Bernadine yelled.
Ginger knew we wouldn’t be able to discuss anything. Everyone was watching her, and her being locked in the bathroom with the owner of the shop Doug was found dead in would get the rumor-mill started.
When Ginger opened up the door, the Divas stumbled in as though they were pressed up against the door.
“Your husband told us he saw you come in here.” Flora’s phone was in its usual spot. “No, not you. I’ll call you back.” She flipped it shut.
I’d swear the space between her ear and shoulder had to be a cell charger, because the damn thing never ran out of battery life. Another reason not to have a cell phone—I was not going to be a slave to an electronic device.
The Divas and I filed out of the bathroom one by one.
Jim Rush stood in the corner of the kitchen with his butt up against the lazy susan. I cringed, knowing that Ginger keeps her cooking spices in there. Cooking spices and Jim Rush’s butt were not a combination my taste buds could tolerate.
“Look at all this food.” Cheri’s eyes widened. She popped a couple of crackers covered with some sort of concoction into her mouth.
I have no idea where she puts all the food. Slender and young, her straight brown hair was pulled up in a high ponytail that hung past her shoulders, and blunt bangs framed her large brown eyes.
I put the veggie tray on the counter next to three trays that were identical to it.
One thing I didn’t do was eat food from other peoples’ kitchens I hadn’t seen. I’d heard about people who let their animals walk on their counters or tables. What if the food they were preparing fell on the floor? Willow won’t even eat off the floor.
Not Cheri. She didn’t care where her next meal came from. I guess that’s the way it is with college kids. Cheri reached for a finger sandwich and took a bite. Her eyes closed in delight.
When Cheri said she wanted to be a Diva, we asked her show us her divorce papers before she could join. One crazy night, during the summer between her high school graduation and first day of college, she went to Vegas and had a few too many cocktails with an Elvis impersonator. The next morning, she woke up with his wig on and a bald guy sleeping next to her.
Luckily, her mom was a divorce attorney, and with a quickie annulment, she was a divorcee.
Noah Druck walked into the kitchen. The Divas surrounded him and began to ask all sorts of questions, but he didn’t pay them any attention. His eyes were focused on me.
He walked over to me and crossed his arms.
“I’m surprised to see you here under the circumstances.” His voice was cold.
“What circumstances?” I asked. I could feel all the eyes in the room studying Noah and me.
Had the community already pegged me as the killer?
Noah turned, but stopped. “Just don’t leave town.” He tilted his head toward Jim and Ginger before walking out the back door.
The room went silent and now everyone was staring at me.
I decided that I’d been humiliated enough. I stormed out the front door and stomped down the street. Maybe I’d lose a couple more pounds from the steam I was blowing off.
I had to talk to Sean and fast. He had to have some answers to some questions I needed answered. He’d had mixed words with Doug on several occasions. Besides Marlene, Sean was also one of the last people to see Doug alive.
I didn’t have to go very far to find him. When I reached the shop, I could see the sparkle from Marlene’s white teeth chomping her gum and smiling at Sean as he leaned up against the counter—looking at her boobs, I’m sure.
Chapter Thirteen
“Hey, Holly.” Sean had a playboy smile that could make a woman’s heart melt.
I wanted to tell Marlene not to be fooled by his dashing good looks, that for some reason God graced him with, but I knew she was a diva and knew all too well what kind of guy he really was.
He was here for one of two reasons. Either he didn’t have a job and next month’s alimony was going to be late, or he was there to tell me how he’d taken a strand of beads from my shop and killed Doug with them.
Willow darted out of the back room to my side.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Sean as I bent down to pat Willow.
One pat was all she needed before she snorted her way back to the storage room to get far away from Marlene’s heels.
It was hard not to stare at Sean and his shaggy blonde hair with natural highlights from working outside in the sun. That was another thing I hated about him. If I wanted those subtle streaks, I’d have to pay an arm and a leg for them, and his sketchy alimony payments wouldn’t allow for that.
My eyes couldn’t help themselves. They traveled up his tanned and nicely toned legs, followed the lines of his brown cargo shorts, and over the curves of his arms. His black t-shirt emphasized his tan. It was amazing to me that a man wanted to stay tan all year round. He was a carpenter, and he did a lot of outside work, but one of the Divas saw him leaving Tan Your Hide.
“I got your message and I need to talk to you too.” The way his green eyes pierced my soul gave me chills. He sneezed.
“Bless you,” I said, not really meaning it. It just came out automatically. “Are you getting sick?”
He sneezed again. “I don’t think so.” He rubbed his nose.
There were a couple of customers picking through the clearance bead section at the front of the shop. Marlene walked over to see if they had any questions, leaving me free to speak privately with Sean.
I crossed my arms to hide my stomach, and I noticed a disappointed look in his eyes. I couldn’t press too hard on my midsection. I was a bit sore from my daily walks. It was good sore, so maybe the walks around the lake were doing some good. The small ache made me want to walk more.
He’d never approved of any type of elastic in my wardrobe, and when I’d hit double digits, his words were as dangerous as machine gun bullets.
“You didn’t let anyone see what size that was when you bought it, did you?” He said once, and then he went down to The Livin’ End and didn’t return until the wee hours of the night.
“Doug Sloan was killed right there.” I pointed to where his body was discovered just a few short days ago. I continued to separate the beads on the counter that Marlene had started. “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”
The customers scattered like flies when they heard me raise my voice.
“I’m going to get a cup of coffee.” Marlene said, and grabbed her purse from behind the counter.
“Damn,” I threw my hands in the air, “I can’t afford to run people off.”
I held my breath to hear what he had to say, hoping he would answer quickly, because I was never good at holding it for long.
“You saw me leave The Livin’ End that night, right?” He leaned on his forearm across the counter.
I pushed his arm off the counter. There was no way I wanted to spend a Saturday cleaning the top of the glass because of Sean’s arm fog. I hesitated before I answered. Making him sweat it out made me pleased as punch.
“Right?” He asked. There was a pleading tone in his voice.
“Are y
ou talking about when Noah Druck came to question me about me being at The Livin’ End because a little bird told him I was there?” I narrowed my eyes. “Or the fact you might’ve killed Doug Sloan right here in my shop?”
Sean looked down at his feet and took a few steps back.
The look was a dead give-away that he was the one who’d told Noah I was at The Livin’ End that night. As much as I wanted to see Sean behind bars, I didn’t think he was a killer or even had the intelligence to use a string of beads. Cracking Doug’s head with a hammer was more his style, not anything to do with fashion.
“Oh.” His usually bright smile was covered with tightly pressed lips.
“Did he tell you that Doug was strangled with a strand of beads just like these?”
I walked over to the hanging shelves and noticed the strand was missing. It was there yesterday. I quickly searched through the other hundreds of strands of hanging beads to see if the cat eyes had been misplaced, but they weren’t there.
“What?” Sean stood behind me peering over my shoulder. “Gotta love the shelving.”
“Did you take the strand of beads?” I had a handful of strands clutched in my fists, shaking them at his smug face. “Did you kill Doug Sloan? Did you try to frame me? ”
One of the strands came unfastened and the beads fell and bounced all over the floor.
We both bent down to catch them at the same time and our heads smacked together.
“Ouch.” Sean stood up rubbing his head. It was too late. The beads were lost in The Under. “No. I don’t even know what a beaded eye looks like.”
“Cat eye beads!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “You’re as dumb as a…”
“Enough, Holly.” Nervously he ran his hands through his hair. “I didn’t do it. Don’t you believe me?”
Unbelievable. Did I believe him? There was a time that I trusted him, until I’d caught him in a few too many lies.
“Have you ever heard of the boy who cried wolf?” I glared at him, and walked over to the counter with Sean on my heels.
I knew he hadn’t killed Doug. But who had?
“Looks like we’re both suspects.” He muttered, coming eye to eye with me, both hands planted on the counter. He turned his head as the bell above the shop door rang, signaling someone had come in.
