Thread and Buried

by Janet Bolin

  “Neil was slight, too,” Haylee reminded me.

  “But I suspect he was very muscular and therefore heavier than he looked.”

  “Cassie is muscular, too,” she said. “Did you notice her forearms?”

  “I didn’t think about it, but you’re right. She must work out.”

  All of the stores except the restaurants we passed on our way up the hill were closed for the evening. As usual after hours, though, a few men were sitting around inside The Ironmonger. We waved, and they waved back.

  I pointed out, “Another thing that was odd about Cassie was that she happily took credit for organizing most of the picnic, but never mentioned Yolanda by name. She said she might have given a brochure to Mona. But I think she wrote down Yolanda’s phone number and gave that to Mona.”

  “And then there were the kittens.” Haylee’s voice took on somber tones. “Cassie said she’d never seen them before, but they acted like she was their favorite person.”

  “Those two!” Just thinking about them made me smile. “They climb everyone they see. I think they were glad for a warm lap to curl up in. It’s the way they greet people, even strangers.” However, if Cassie had a connection with the kittens who were dumped in or near my yard about the same time that Neil’s wrapped corpse was dragged there, Cassie could be very dangerous.

  Haylee and I both laughed when we saw my shop’s front door. I’d left lights on inside. Both dogs pressed their noses against the glass. The two kittens stood up on their hind legs and batted at the pane as if they expected to burst through it and hoist themselves up to our shoulders to purr against our necks. I opened the door and we each scooped up a kitten and patted a dog.

  Haylee handed me Mustache. “What can we do with the information we have about Cassie?”

  “Do we have any?” I asked. “Other than that her answers to our questions weren’t very straightforward and her stories don’t hang together with what Mona said? The only concrete information we have is Yolanda’s phone number. What can we do with that, call and ask her if she stole asparagus and failed to wash it before adding it to salads and selling it to people? Bow-Tie, please don’t bite my ear.” I tucked the mischievous kitten into the crook of one elbow. “I suppose we could give Yolanda’s phone number to the police, but they probably already have it.”

  Haylee bit her lip. “And we’ll end up being accused of meddling and investigating things that don’t concern us.”

  I snapped my fingers, causing Bow-Tie to attack them. “How about doing a reverse lookup? That number looks like a landline from Elderberry Bay. We can get the address.”

  I handed Bow-Tie to Haylee and logged on to my computer.

  Yolanda’s address was on Beach Row.

  “Ice cream for lunch tomorrow!” I crowed.

  Haylee gave me both kittens and then raised her arms in a victory sign. “Maybe all we really had to do was walk along Beach Row this evening instead of along the beach. Maybe that white van has been parked in front of Yolanda’s place all along.”

  As Haylee left, she again reminded me to lock my doors. “Call me or my mothers if you need anything,” she added. “Have a good night.”

  Having a good night was not easy in the company of two kittens who were convinced that darkness was when everyone was supposed to practice stalking and pouncing. Fortunately, I was the proud owner of a cat-herding dog. Sally-Forth was determined to lie beside my bed, and did her best to train those kittens that sensible creatures should sleep at night.

  * * *

  WE ALL WOKE UP EARLY AND MORE OR LESS ready to open the shop and greet our customers.

  Ashley and I showed our students hardanger embroidery, which was named after an area in Norway, and had nothing to do with difficulty or anger. This neat, disciplined style of embroidery was like a cross between drawn work, in which threads are pulled out of the fabric, and cutwork, where shapes are cut out of the fabric.

  First, we started embroidery software programs, and then each student created a pattern of small squares and crosses on the screen.

  After the women created the designs, complete with stops for removing the hoop from the embroidery machine, Ashley and I helped them hoop sticky stabilizer with the backing paper up. We showed them how to score an X across the hoop through the paper without puncturing the stabilizer itself, which could cause it to tear. Carefully, our students peeled the backing away, leaving the sticky side of the stabilizer uppermost in their hoops.

  I gave everyone a square of monk’s cloth. The next step was the most crucial of all, and caused a lot of distressed muttering. They had to keep both the warp and the woof absolutely straight as they smoothed the fabric onto the sticky stabilizer. Ashley and I checked every student’s work before they attached their hoops to embroidery machines and started stitching. The machines obediently sewed straight stitches around neat little squares.

  The women in our workshop removed the hoops from their machine and we examined the stitching under a strong light. These women were experienced, and because the fabric had started out straight, their little squares were exactly on the straight and crosswise grains.

  With sharp, teeny-bladed scissors, they cut out the insides of the little squares, leaving the stitching.

  They reattached their hoops and started the embroidery machines again. The machines stitched around the open squares with narrow satin stitching and added the crosses that made up the rest of the hardanger designs.

  While the others stitched, I considered ice cream flavors. Mentally tasting them was almost as good as the real thing. Almost.

  The women unhooped the fabric and painstakingly tore off the excess stabilizer. Everyone was happy with the work they’d done.

  At noon, I took my dogs and lunch to the bandstand.

  Haylee was already there. “I can’t go for ice cream after we eat,” she said. “I have to present myself at Opal’s. Will you come along? Please?”

  “Of course I’ll come with you to Opal’s,” I answered. “What’s up?”

  “Those people are coming to see her.” She chomped at her sandwich.

  24

  I ASKED HAYLEE, “WHO’S COMING TO SEE Opal? Max and Zara Brubaugh?”

  She nodded.

  “I see you’re keeping an open mind about them,” I teased.

  “And about missing out on ice cream.” She took another vicious bite of her sandwich. “Again. Thanks to them.”

  “We’ll definitely need our ice cream fix tonight.”

  She brightened. We polished off our lunches and hurried up Lake Street. Haylee went straight to Tell a Yarn while I ducked into In Stitches and put the dogs into the apartment with the kittens. I told Ashley where I’d be, then rushed out the front door. And practically into Detective Gartener.

  He was in jeans, blazer, and a white oxford cloth shirt, a very nice look on him. Except for his impenetrable policeman expressions, no one might ever guess he was a detective. He put his hands out as if to catch me. “Whoa! Have a second?”

  I glanced away from his dark eyes to the street. No BMW yet. “Sure.”

  “Any idea why Max Brubaugh has been hanging around Elderberry Bay?” He couldn’t possibly have known I was thinking about Max and his sister.

  “He’s a reporter.”

  “Yes, in Pittsburgh. So what is he doing up here? He was here before Chief Smallwood found Neil’s body, and before Snoozy Gallagher was dug up, too. So what story is he following?”

  “I don’t think he’s here on business, but on a personal quest. He suspects that Opal might be his long-lost aunt.”

  “What are you rushing off to?”

  I knew I didn’t have to answer his questions, but I trusted him. “Max and his sister are coming to Opal’s shop. Haylee’s a little ruffled about the whole thing and asked me to the reunion, if it is one.” Glancing up into those dark, amused eyes, I bit my lip.

  He slanted a grin down at me. “Mind if I come along?”

  “No.” Did he not
ice my slight hesitation?

  If he did, he didn’t show it. “And can you please call me Toby and not let on I’m a state trooper?”

  “Okay, but I can’t vouch for the others.”

  “Let’s go, then, and ask them to keep my dirty little secret.” He crossed the street with me.

  Opal was sure to think I’d completely lost it, bringing a detective to what could have been, and maybe should have been, a private family gathering.

  Detective Gartener—Toby—opened Opal’s door and stepped back to let me in first. Speechless for once, Opal, Naomi, and Edna stared at us. Lucy, as always, was far from speechless. I picked her up and held her close. Her insistent meows changed to contented purrs.

  Haylee grinned. She was probably certain that Max and Zara were involved in a scam and that our favorite detective was about to arrest them.

  Opal recovered first. “Welcome, Willow and Detective Gartener.”

  “Please,” he said in that resonant made-for-radio voice. “Call me Toby. And when the others show up, don’t tell them that I’m with the state police.”

  Eyes gleaming, Haylee nodded, but the other three tilted their heads and raised their eyebrows.

  I attempted to explain. “He was just asking me about—” Outside, a silver BMW pulled up to the curb. “Them. Why they’re here.”

  Opal followed my glance. Max unfolded himself from the driver’s seat and stared into the store. The tentative way he licked his lips made him appear both hungry and a little anxious.

  Opal clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Edna squeaked, “It is Max. I’d know him anywhere.”

  “From watching the news, no doubt,” Haylee murmured out the side of her mouth. Probably only Toby and I heard her, but Toby was obviously memorizing everything he could about that BMW.

  Zara got out and stared at the store with a saucy expression. Her brother might have been nervous, but she certainly wasn’t.

  Haylee crowded me. I was not only going to stand by her, I might need to hold her up.

  Max opened the shop door. Her face nearly expressionless, walking tall in a way that showed off her long neck, Zara preceded him into Tell a Yarn. Max let the door close behind him and stood still, gazing from face to face. The confidence I’d seen in him the day before had been replaced by caution doing battle with boyish expectation.

  Finally, he tossed Haylee a sheepish grin, and walked right up to Opal. “It really is you,” he said.

  Haylee crossed her arms across her chest. Toby and I were probably the only ones besides the purring cat to hear her grunt of disapproval.

  Max’s attention did not stray from Opal’s face. “When I was little, I called you Auntie Elbow. Do you remember me at all? My mother is your sister Pearl.” He added names, dates, and an address. “I made you read Winnie-the-Pooh to me, the story about the heffalump, over and over again. You gave me a toy cat that you said looked like a Lucy, so that’s what I called her, but it probably came out more like Wucy.”

  Opal seemed to have problems finding her voice. She glanced at the cat in my arms, cleared her throat, held her palm flat, and bent forward until her hand was close to her knee. “You were about this tall.”

  He said, quite simply, but quite believably, “I missed you.”

  Opal managed a quiet, “I always hoped I might see you again. How’s your mother?”

  “She’s fine. She’ll be thrilled that we finally found you.”

  “But—” Opal’s face crumpled and her eyes glistened. Naomi and Edna moved closer to her.

  Max seemed to notice them. “Naomi and Edna. Didn’t you used to babysit me, too?”

  “You remember us!” Naomi was obviously flattered.

  “Of course. I made you read about the heffalump, too.” He nodded toward the corner where Haylee, Toby, and I stood like three monkeys refusing to hear, see, or speak evil, or anything else. “Hi, Willow. Hi—”

  That seemed to break the trance Opal had been under. “I should introduce you to your cousin, my daughter Haylee.”

  Max came toward Haylee, hand outstretched. “Sorry I mistook you for your mother. But you two do look alike.”

  Zara put down a skein of Opal’s silk yarn and pushed Max aside. “Haylee’s too young to be our aunt. Don’t pay him any attention, Haylee. He never could play well with others.”

  “That’s not true,” Naomi said in shocked tones.

  Haylee shook Max’s hand. “It was kind of funny,” she admitted.

  Max glanced curiously at Toby Gartener but didn’t offer his hand, and no one introduced them.

  Edna blew her nose. Forthright as ever, she began interrogating Haylee’s cousins. “Opal wasn’t surprised when your grandparents disowned her. But she expected your mother to stay in touch. Why didn’t she?”

  Max took a step back. “Disowned? Nana and Dada disowned Opal? They told Mom and Dad that Opal ran away and was living on the streets of Detroit.”

  “I’ve never been there,” Opal said. “I never had to live on the streets, though I figured that’s what they thought I deserved. How did they explain that my best friends, Naomi and Edna, left home the same time I did?”

  Max studied his perfectly manicured fingernails. “Mom got the idea that all three of you had been trapped in a cult or using drugs.”

  Naomi burst out, “But Opal wrote to your mom! Pearl never answered. It hurt Opal dreadfully. Not that being kicked out by her own parents wasn’t bad enough.” The usually sweet Naomi managed to look very condemning.

  “Mom must have never gotten Opal’s letters.” Max clamped his mouth closed. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

  “Letter,” Opal said. “One letter. I was told to leave you all alone, so when Pearl didn’t answer, I put the old life behind me. By the time I gave up on hearing from Pearl, you were the only one from back home that I still cared about, Max.”

  Beside me, I felt Toby’s tense concentration. What did he think of all this? Was he wishing he could take out his notebook and write in it?

  Max touched Zara’s wrist. “Mom had a difficult pregnancy with Zara, and had to spend most of it in bed. Nana came over every day to look after me and everything. She easily could have intercepted your letter.”

  “Nana was mean.” Zara’s voice was as sharp as chipped glass. “Dada, too. Nothing I could do was ever good enough. Why did they disown you, Auntie Elbow?” She darted a look at Haylee. “No, let me guess. You weren’t married and you were preggers.” She looked up at her brother. “That explains it. Explains a lot.” She gazed into Opal’s eyes. “I must have been under two years old when they started warning me against boys.”

  “They warned me, too,” Opal said. “I didn’t listen. And I’m glad. I have Haylee.”

  “We all have Haylee,” Edna corrected her. “And we’re all glad.”

  Zara smirked. “I didn’t listen, either, but I don’t have any children. Yet.”

  “What about you, Max?” Naomi asked politely. “Any children?”

  “No. I may have heeded Nana and Dada’s warnings too much. I’m still single.”

  Finally, Opal asked softly, “How are your Nana and Dada?”

  Max frowned. “Dada died a few years ago. Nana’s in a home. Alzheimer’s.”

  “She doesn’t know who we are,” Zara said.

  Naomi pressed her hands to her cheeks. “That’s terrible.”

  My lunch hour was over. Haylee’s was, too, and judging by her stony expression as she stared at her newfound cousins, she didn’t want to stretch it or spend any longer with them. I handed Lucy to Max. “Here’s the Lucy I told you about.”

  His long-fingered hands were gentle as he caressed the cat, and I thought I detected a glint of unshed tears in his eyes.

  I excused myself. Toby and Haylee said their good-byes, also. Haylee’s was curt, thrown toward her mothers as Opal’s shop door closed behind us. I was certain that her mothers could tell as well as I could that Haylee wasn’t about to accept these new cousins
easily. I could have crossed the street and gone to my own shop, but Haylee seemed about to burst, so I stayed with her.

  Toby did, too. He must have noticed Haylee’s unusually stormy face. In front of The Stash, he asked, “Are you all right, Haylee?”

  She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

  I suspected that Toby didn’t believe her, either, but he didn’t say anything. Having learned about the way he used silence to motivate others to talk, I stayed quiet, too.

  As Toby probably hoped she would, Haylee gave us a more complete answer. “I don’t feel anything about losing grandparents I never knew. I never heard anything good about them.”

  “No wonder,” I muttered.

  “And these cousins,” Toby prodded. “Do you believe they’re really Opal’s sister’s children?”

  Haylee’s eyes could be merry, but at the moment, they were bleak. “I don’t know. Their story holds together with the little I’ve heard. I think Opal’s going to have to meet their mother. She should know for sure if this Pearl person is her sister.” She crossed her arms. “But I can tell you one thing. If they hurt my mom, I won’t answer to the consequences.” She glared at him with resolve—a definite improvement over the desolation I’d noticed earlier. “And that’s a threat I don’t mind making in the presence of a state trooper.”

  I would have kicked her or found another way to hush her, but Toby would have noticed.

  He held up a hand. “Please, Haylee, if you think anything needs to be done, tell me first, okay? I promise to do whatever I can legally do to keep Opal or anyone else from being hurt. Do you really think that pair is out to harm your mother?”

  She rubbed the top of one sandal against the back of her other leg. “I don’t know what to think.” She gave Toby a crooked grin. “But I’ll talk to you or Chief Smallwood before I act, don’t worry.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “And then I’ll do what I was going to do in the first place.” But her smile had gone impish, and I was happy to see her more like herself.

  “No you won’t,” Toby told her. “Speaking of Chief Smallwood—can she and I come talk to you two this evening?”