“But how could that have happened?” She listened a bit longer, and then whispered a few words of encouragement. “You’ll be all right. Don’t worry about that.” At last she replaced the receiver in its cradle. “Marnie had an accident,” she said. “She fell down some stairs. She’s got one arm in a sling and she’s having trouble walking—something to do with one of her knees and her hips. She won’t be able to come in today.”
“But how?” I asked, as a vision of Bruce pushing her down a flight of stairs popped into my mind.
Jenny nodded knowingly. “Whatever you’re imagining, I think you’re probably right. She said Bruce took her out to dinner at some fancy restaurant in Belmont last night. It’s on the second floor of some old house. As they were leaving, she stumbled and fell down the stairs.”
“You know what’s going on, don’t you? He’s trying to kill her,” I said. “He’s got that insurance policy on her and he’s trying to get rid of her. We can’t wait. We have to go and tell her about him right this minute.”
Her eyes filled with horror. “I think you’re right. But there’s one problem. You said it yourself. We can’t tell her until we have that picture. But what we can do is make sure she’s not alone with that creep for one second.”
“Good idea.”
“I just thought of something,” Jenny said. “I don’t have anything to serve my customers.”
“Why don’t you zip up to Belmont and buy whatever you need from Melinda? Her baking is similar to Marnie’s. Most customers won’t even notice the difference.”
“I don’t have a car.”
I turned to Margaret.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “My car is at the garage. And it’s going to stay there until I can afford to pay for the repairs.”
I sighed. “I suppose I could go.” As uncomfortable as seeing Melinda again might be, making certain that Jenny’s shop stayed open today took priority. And since my shop didn’t open officially until ten o’clock, it made sense that I should go.
“But what about Marnie? We can’t leave her by herself.”
“Margaret, you go to Marnie’s. It’s only a five minute walk,” I said. I turned to Jenny. “You’ll have to mind both stores until I return.”
“Let me make you a list of what I need.” She picked up a pencil and a piece of paper. A minute later she handed it to me. I grabbed my purse and my keys and hurried off.
Melinda was behind the counter, handing out change to a customer. “Thank you,” she said. “Come again.” And then she turned to me. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. What can I do for you? Are you looking for another recipe?”
“Marnie had an accident,” I said. I hadn’t been here two minutes and I was already feeling defensive. “She hasn’t been able to fill Jenny’s order for the coffee shop. I was hoping you might have most of what she needs.” I handed her the list.
She perused it and raised her brows. “That’s pretty much everything I have in the store. Let’s see what I can do.” As she counted muffins, transferring them to cardboard boxes, I asked, “Have you heard from Bruce Doherty by any chance?” I knew I was fishing, but it had occurred to me that if they had been flirting at the party, he might have followed up with a call.
“No, and I don’t think I’m likely to.” The way she said this, her eyes firing anger and her jaw set determinedly, gave me the impression that she was furious with him. This made no sense, unless . . . she had expected to hear from him but hadn’t. I waited, hoping she’d continue without my probing. I had no way of knowing if my imagination was running rampant or if this meant nothing at all. “That’s it for the muffins,” she said, tying string around a box.
She gave me a stiff smile and handed me another box. “Here are the scones.” She resumed counting pastries. Soon she had packaged everything. “Let me help you to your car.” She grabbed a few boxes by the string and carried them out.
“Come again,” she said as I closed the hatch.
“You’re the second-best baker in the county,” I said, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster. “And if Marnie doesn’t make me those pecan rolls, I’ll be coming over regularly.” I walked around to the passenger seat and drove away.
Fifteen minutes later I parked in front of my shop. I stumbled in carrying a stack of parcels and almost dropped everything when Winston came galloping over. What a mess that would have been.
“Down, boy. Down.”
Jenny appeared from the back, waving a manila envelope. “Matthew just came by. He sounded disappointed that you weren’t here. He dropped this off for you and left. And then, just a couple of minutes ago, he phoned and asked that you call him the minute you get back.”
I set the boxes on the counter and tore open the envelope. I was looking at a photo of an older man.
“They don’t even look alike,” I said, studying the scanned picture.
Jenny peeked over my shoulder for a closer look. “Oh, I don’t know. It might be him if the man was about twenty years younger, fifty pounds thinner, and if his hair was dark brown instead of gray.”
“Not funny.”
“I’ve got to get back to work. I’ve got a shop full of customers,” she said.
I waved her off and picked up the phone. Matthew answered on the second ring.
“I’m looking at the picture right now,” I said. “You were right. He’s using a stolen identity. I’m going over to Marnie’s this minute.”
“Hold on. Not so fast. I just got an e-mail from the Investment Board. They said they forgot to mention that they also found a BJ Doherty registered as a financial advisor. This advisor also happens to be the new owner of the firm the older Bruce Doherty sold before retiring. It could be that the B in his name stands for Bruce. If he was working in the same firm along with his father, he might have used initials instead of his name to avoid confusion.”
“You can’t be serious. Now you’re telling me that we don’t know any more than we did yesterday?”
“I asked them to send me this BJ’s pictures, and they promised to rush it. It shouldn’t take terribly long. Probably no more than an hour or so. So, I hate to say this again, but you have to wait. Don’t you dare say a word about any of this to Marnie until I get that picture.”
My voice rose an octave. “Did Jenny happen to mention that he tried to kill Marnie last night?”
“She did,” he said. “And first of all, we don’t know that he tried to kill her. It could well have been an accident.”
“You don’t believe a word of that yourself.”
“She also told me what you girls decided to do. I think it’s a good idea. As long as one of you is by her side she won’t be in any danger.”
“Okay, fine,” I muttered. “But, please, call me the second you get that picture. I’ll have my cell on.”
• • •
I hurried over to Marnie’s house, stopping along the way to pick up a newspaper. At least I’d have something to keep me occupied if she refused to speak to me. I had barely pressed the bell at her house, when the door was flung open and Margaret rushed out.
“Thank God you’re here. She’s as ornery as a bull at a rodeo. She keeps insisting she wants to be by herself. I thought she was about to call the cops to get me thrown out. Hope you have better luck than I did.” She pulled on her sweater as she spoke, then took off at a jog.
“Who is that at the door?” Marnie called from the back of the house.
“It’s me—Della,” I said, crossing the living room. Marnie’s decor was punctuated with the unusual and the just plain strange. A ruby red sofa in the shape of lips dominated the living room. On either side was a Hawaiian hula-dancing-girl lamp. The walls were covered with a mixture of framed posters—everything from a movie poster of Ingrid Bergman and Humphrey Bogart in Casablanca, to an Andy Warhol rendition of a can of Campbell’
s soup, to a reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper. To say the decor was eclectic was the understatement of the year.
“Who gave you permission to come in?” Marnie called from the bedroom. “I want you to leave right now.” I ignored the comment and pushed the door open, finding myself in a frilly pink room. The white canopy bed had a pink coverlet and a pink tulle skirt. The bedside tables were undersized white Bombay chests with mirrored tops. The curtains were pink, and even the rug was pink—not what I had expected. Having said that, I shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, Marnie had painted the outside of the house pink. And she certainly did like the unusual.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, girlfriend, but I’m not going anywhere. So, here’s your choice. You can be nice, or you can give me the silent treatment. It might be more pleasant for both of us if you play nice, but either way, I’m not going anywhere.” She was lying on her back, wearing—what else—a pink bathrobe. She had one ice pack on her knee and a second one against her hip. Her arm was in a sling, and her left cheek was scraped and bruised.
“Oh, Marnie. I hate to say this, but you look awful.” Her face fell and I added quickly, “I’m talking about your injuries.”
“What is it with everybody? All I need is some peace and quiet, which I’m not going to get if you insist on jabbering. Now leave me alone. I’m perfectly all right.”
“You call this perfectly all right?” I slipped off my sweater. “Now tell me how this happened.”
“How do you think it happened? You don’t imagine I threw myself down the stairs, do you? It was an accident.”
“A bit touchy, aren’t we?” She scowled and looked away. “Can I get you anything?”
There was a long pause, and then a smile quivered at the corner of her mouth. “Well, since you’re already here, you might as well go get a couple of lava cakes out of the freezer and pop them in the oven. If I’m going to be laid up in bed, I might as well eat chocolate.”
I grinned. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” I hurried to the kitchen and turned on the oven to 425 degrees.
“And you can add a scoop or two of ice cream while you’re at it,” she shouted. “By the way, the cakes are in the walk-in freezer.”
I entered the new space, taking in the expanse of stainless-steel counters, the six-burner restaurant stove, and the wall of ovens. One, two, three . . . Wow. Four ovens. I looked around and spotted a metal door with a small window, almost like a porthole on a boat. That had to be the freezer. It looked huge. I pulled it open and almost jumped out of my skin when a loud beep sounded. An alarm on a freezer? I’d never heard of that. I looked inside. There were shelves upon shelves of frozen baked goods, enough to keep Jenny’s coffee shop supplied for a busy week and still have some left over. I could have come here this morning instead of running out to Melinda’s.
I located the tray of lava cakes, chose two, and carried them to the old kitchen, where I popped them in the oven and set the timer at eleven minutes, just long enough that the inside would warm but not cook. Deciding that a pot of coffee was definitely called for, I went in search of beans and a grinder. By the time the java was ready, the cakes were served, each with a scoop of ice cream. I put everything on a tray and carried it to the bedroom.
“What the heck is that beep on the freezer? It nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Oh, I had that put in. It’s supposed to beep only when the door is left open longer than thirty seconds. But for some reason it also beeps when I open it. I never got around to having it fixed.”
“Let me plump your pillows,” I said, placing the tray on top of the dresser. I helped Marnie get comfortable and then handed her a plate.
“I had no idea you had so much food on reserve in the freezer. You wouldn’t by any chance have reserves of handwoven goods too, would you?”
“Sorry, but I can’t keep up with your demands. Weaving isn’t exactly like making cupcakes, where all I have to do is double or triple a recipe.”
“I wish,” I said, sitting at the foot of the bed. Except for a few moans of satisfaction, we ate in silence.
Then Marnie put her plate on the bedside table and said, “So, tell me the truth now. Why are you here?”
“I told you why. I didn’t want you to be by yourself when you can hardly move. By the way, you never told Jenny how this”—I gestured toward her injuries—“happened.”
She studied me as if trying to read my mind, and then said, “You think Bruce had something to do with it. You think he shoved me down the stairs?” To my surprise, she sounded more resigned than upset. She sighed. “I guess that’s the price that comes with having friends who care.”
“That’s the nicest thing you could have said.” I went over to her and wrapped her in a bear hug.
“Ouch! Ouch!” she cried.
I jumped away. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
She chuckled. “I’d always heard that love hurts, but I never thought to take it quite so literally.” She continued in a more serious tone. “I think I overreacted a bit yesterday. I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. It was my fault as much as yours.”
The phone on her bedside table rang and she gestured for me to get it. I handed it to her.
“Oh, hi, Liz,” she said into the receiver. “No, I haven’t spoken to my insurance agent yet, but I left him a message and I expect to hear from him today. Yes, I’ll let you know the minute I have it settled.” She chatted for a few more minutes, then said good-bye and handed the phone back to me. I nestled it back in its cradle.
“Just as I expected,” she said. “She spoke to the mayor and he was very happy with her taking over the librarian’s position until they hire someone.”
“It was nice of her to offer.”
Marnie nodded. “She’s doing it for Helen, of course.”
“Have you heard anything about her funeral arrangements?”
“Actually, her body was sent to Charlotte for the autopsy, and the police are still waiting for the medical examiner’s report. I might organize a simple service for now, and then arrange for the burial later. Who knows how long they keep bodies in these cases.”
“Good idea. It could take a long time. This is a murder investigation. They have to make certain they gather every last bit of evidence before they allow interment.”
The phone rang again. This time it was the insurance agent.
“I’m so glad you called,” Marnie said. She explained about her flag, and then, sounding shocked, she said, “How could you know about it? I just found out myself yesterday.” She was quiet for a bit. “In today’s Belmont Daily? Really?” She pointed at the newspaper I’d left at the foot of the bed.
I picked it up. To my surprise, right there, on the front page the headlines announced, LOCAL WOMAN LENDS VALUABLE PIECE OF HISTORY TO LIBRARY EXHIBIT. The article went on to explain how Marnie Potter owned a family heirloom, namely an antique flag valued at hundreds of thousands of dollars. Marnie was described as a generous patron of the library, lending this flag for a period of one week, beginning the following Monday. There was a general invitation to the public to come by, followed by a plea for donations to help repair the roof.
Marnie was still on the phone, looking none too pleased. “What do you mean, it’s going to cost me more?” She listened for a moment and then snapped, “I have no idea who could have leaked this to the paper.” After a sharp good-bye, she slammed the phone into the cradle.
“Can you believe this? He said that because of that article, people now know I own the flag, so I have to either get an alarm system installed or pay about ten times the normal amount of insurance.” She grabbed the paper from my hands and perused it. “Who the hell could have blabbed to the newspaper?” she mumbled to herself.
“The only person I can imagine is Liz Carter. She’s organizing that exhibit
. The whole purpose is to attract as many visitors as they can. I’m sure she never thought that bringing attention to the flag might cause you a problem.”
“That’s the problem. She never thought,” Marnie said. “I don’t know why I agreed to let that woman borrow it. I have a good mind to call her right now and give her a word or two.”
“Before you do that, why don’t you call a security company and find out how much an alarm system might cost. It might be less than you expect. It wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to take precautions. After all, you’re a woman living alone.”
“Do you have an alarm system?” she asked pointedly.
“Er, no. But now that we’re talking about it, I think I’ll get an estimate for my place too.”
“Really?” Just as I’d hoped, my considering a system for my place suddenly convinced Marnie that she should do the same. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll look into it.”
Now that she seemed calmer, I tried again. “So, tell me exactly how you fell down those stairs?”
“It was an accident. Honestly. We had dinner at the Loft in Belmont.” I knew the restaurant. A trendy place, it was situated on the second floor of an old manufacturing plant and decorated in a modern industrial style, with stainless steel lamps hanging from a black-painted ceiling that was crisscrossed with rusty metal pipes. The tables and chairs were metal. The floor was worn wood. The kitchen was clearly visible in the back of the cavernous room behind a glass wall. And the menu was enormously expensive. “The staircase was dark, and I’d had a bit too much to drink.”
“You don’t normally drink much,” I said.
“I know, but yesterday we were celebrating after finding out how much my flag is worth. If I sell it, I might have enough money to last me the rest of my life. I wouldn’t even need the life insurance policy anymore.”
“Did you say as much to Bruce?”
“Yes, but he thinks it would be silly to cancel the policy now—even though we’re still within the cancellation period. We would get all our money back and have no penalties. But if we wait until next week, it’ll be too late.”
Weave of Absence Page 11
