A Crafter Quilts a Crime

by Holly Quinn

  It was Heidi. Are you up? Wanda’s husband MIA.

  Although Heidi preferred text as her main line of communication, Sammy did not. Sammy dialed her cousin, and Heidi picked up on the third ring.

  “You’re up,” Heidi said in a clipped tone. “Hang on.”

  Sammy set the phone to speaker and poured herself a cup of coffee. She reached into the refrigerator, topped off the mug with French vanilla creamer, and took a welcome sip, all before Heidi returned to the phone. She still had coffee in her mouth when she heard, “You still there?”

  Sammy swallowed. “Yeah. What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting dressed for work. I have to be at the hospital soon. Did you get any sleep last night?”

  “Barely.” Sammy stifled a yawn.

  “Yeah. I hear you. Me either.”

  “What did you mean with your cryptic text? Wanda’s husband is missing?”

  “Tim spent the night at my place, and this morning he received an early call from the police department. It seems they still can’t reach Wanda’s husband to tell him the news of her death. He never came to the hospital to say goodbye, pay respects, nothing. The police don’t know if he even received the news that she passed away yet.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “You’re telling me!”

  “Does he travel for business or something?”

  “Nope; that’s the same thing I asked Tim. He mentioned Marty travels locally around the state, but his neighbors insist he’s usually home by dinnertime during the winter months. Sometimes he spends an overnight here or there, mostly during the summer, but this time of year he’d supposedly be home by now. Of course, the police department contacted his work. They’re keeping tabs to see if he’ll show up there on Monday. His cell keeps going to voice mail.”

  “That’s odd. I can’t believe they haven’t found him yet.” Sammy blew atop her mug and then took another sip. The hotter the liquid, the better.

  “And get this, it gets even more interesting. The coroner doesn’t think Wanda died from a heart attack. Apparently, her death is starting to look suspicious.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. So now Marty’s absence is really looking a bit shady, don’t ya think? Have you ever met him?”

  “A few random times when he’s popped into the shop with Wanda. Other than that, I don’t really know Marty. You?”

  “Ah, yeah, about the same. I’d know him if I saw him; that’s about it.”

  “Do you think the police are under the impression Marty left of his own accord? As if he’s trying to hide a guilty conscience or something? I’m assuming he’s looking like a suspect now in their eyes. His wife ends up mysteriously dying, and now suddenly he’s nowhere to be found? It does seem a bit suspicious, no?”

  “I dunno for sure what’s going on with the police. Tim’s tight-lipped about the details when I pump him for info, but this latest development definitely left me curious. I’ve just overheard a few things that I thought I’d pass on to you. Obviously, I’ve been thinking the same thing you are—suspicious. Why should I be the only one wondering?” Heidi laughed. “Well, my dear, I have to get to the hospital. I heard the ER has been busy too, with all the minor traffic accidents due to the snow overnight. I’ll keep you posted if I hear the police find him.”

  “Yeah, keep me posted. Definitely. Thanks, Heidi. Have a good day.”

  “Yeah, you too. I hope you have time to shovel. Looks like we got about another foot of snow out there.”

  Sammy groaned.

  “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Heidi added in a teasing tone. “Love you.”

  “Love you too.”

  Sammy clicked off the phone and then kneaded her forehead with her fingers. Missing. Where the heck had Wanda’s husband disappeared to? Incredibly odd.

  Sammy’s eyes traveled to the back door, where Bara was patiently waiting. “Oh, I’m sorry, pup. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” She set down her mug and rushed to open the back door, which was blocked with snow. Yesterday she had welcomed the weather. Today she loathed it. How the mood could be so fickle! After a few good shoves, the door opened enough for her to make a pass with the shovel leaning by the back door big enough for her dog to squeeze through. Bara looked at her as if to say, You really want me to jump over that snowbank to get outside and do my business? But after a few minutes of sniffing, he pushed his paws through the cold stuff and barely made it outside the door before turning the snow yellow.

  Sammy remembered she had asked Deborah to return to Community Craft earlier than their nine AM opening time so they could clean up the previous night’s mess. She hurried her morning along with a quick shower and speedy breakfast. A slice of toast lathered in peanut butter and a second cup of tepid coffee did the trick. She breathed a huge sigh of relief when she peeked out the front window and noted that her driveway had been halfway cleared. The heavy stuff, where the plow often left a huge icy heap at the edge of the driveway, was gone. Her landlord, Ralph, must have stopped by to do a quick sweep and brush off her car while she was in the shower. She mentally calculated whether her car could roll over the rest and decided she would force it. She added to her mental list: Pick up something special at Sweet Tooth Bakery for Ralph as an act of appreciation for plowing me out. Or maybe, if she was lucky, she still had a full box of Marilyn’s cookies left over from the previous night she could pass along. Now that the new year had hit, she was bound and determined to lose the extra holiday weight, and Marilyn’s cookies sure wouldn’t help with that.

  The snow was surprisingly light and fluffy and blew like glittered dust when Sammy opened the back door of her car for Bara to jump inside. Her dog was wearing a blue tartan scarf that one of her talented seamstresses had sewn from a soft flannel material especially for him. Bara looked adorable wearing it, sending the first smile of the day to her lips.

  “My customers are going to love you today, my handsome boy,” she said to her dog as she patted his head and tucked him safely into the back seat, then closed the door. She waved her gloved hand over the front of the windshield and decided the wipers could blow off the rest that had fallen since Ralph had cleared her car.

  Even though she had only a few blocks to drive to reach Community Craft, the ride to town was slow going. Every year, it seemed, people forgot how to drive in the white stuff, and the first major accumulating snow (not just a mere dusting here or there) had everyone readjusting to the change, causing a backup on Main Street. Sammy looked out the frosty car window at Heartsford Credit Union and the park square behind it and wondered if the bonfire had gone off without a hitch. She had missed it. The first year in a very long time that she had missed the traditional community gathering.

  A heaviness filled her heart as her mind wandered back to Wanda. What had happened to her? And where was her husband?

  After missing the stoplight again due to the slowed traffic, Sammy made a last-minute decision and flicked the blinker to turn right. She knew Wanda lived not far off Main Street and decided an impromptu drive past her house to see if her husband Marty had finally returned home wouldn’t be a bad idea.

  The quilting group had gathered at Wanda’s home just a few weeks prior for a holiday party, and although Sammy hadn’t been able to make it that night, she still had the invitation stashed in her glove compartment. She reached inside to locate it, then opened the card to reveal the address. Only a few blocks to go. She buzzed the washer fluid and turned the wipers on full speed to clear the windshield and find her way. When she reached Wanda’s house, she was surprised to see a For Sale sign dusted with snow displayed on the front lawn. “Huh …” she said aloud.

  Sammy pulled alongside the curb as close as she could without parking herself into a large snowdrift and set her emergency blinkers on so a snowplow wouldn’t come behind her unexpectedly and plow her in. She gazed up at the stately white Victorian. The path of snow from the sidewalk to the house had not been cleared, but footpr
ints littered the front walk, as if the police had come again for a return visit. The house windows were dark despite the curtains being pushed aside, showing no signs of life. And the large wraparound porch had also not been cleared of snow. Where could Marty be? Before the day was through, Sammy was sure she would have to find out.

  Chapter Five

  Townspeople were multiplying in front of Liquid Joy, the local coffee shop across the street from Community Craft, and Sammy silently wondered what the group was discussing among themselves. There had to be something keeping their attention in the bone-chilling cold. Were they talking about the Fire and Ice event from the previous night? Or were they talking about Wanda? Or had word hit the streets that Wanda’s husband seemed noticeably absent? She pondered this as she flipped the sign on the glass front door to Open.

  Deborah was adjusting jars of local honey on a nearby shelf and turned to Sammy. “I hate to bring this up, but we really ought to put a new display in the window, don’t you think? The longer we leave the gaping hole in the storefront, the longer people are going to walk by and remember why it’s vacant …” Deborah let the words hang in the air like a heavy, dense fog, clouding them in.

  “I agree. We’ve both been avoiding the inevitable all morning.” Sammy turned from the front door and regarded her coworker. “Let’s turn it into a cozy winter scene, shall we? We already have the artificial fireplace in the corner and the fake snow. I’ll walk around the store and see what would fit well with the theme out there.” Sammy was about to step away when she saw Deborah frown. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just feel so out of sorts, you know? I normally go to yoga early every Sunday morning while Danny watches the kids. Wanda called it church yoga because many of us would head to church right after and meet up with our families. Wanda even came with me to church the last few Sundays. Honestly, I just can’t believe she’s gone.”

  Sammy reached an arm out to comfort her friend. “I know, it’s crazy, right? I can’t even imagine what her family will have to go through; such a loss. I’m also sorry to have taken you away from church this morning and encouraged you to work instead. I hope God doesn’t hold that against me.” Sammy looked to the ceiling, placing her hands together in a prayerlike position, and then her eyes returned to her coworker. Sammy’s idea of church was loving people, not necessarily meeting and worshiping in a building—although her sister and family nudged her at times to attend. “Unfortunately, Ellie couldn’t get here early today. Her in-laws came into town to enjoy the festivities last night and didn’t want to drive back to Milwaukee in the snowstorm.”

  “Oh, that’s okay. And I’m pretty sure this is where God would want me. Right here helping you.” Deborah smiled. “Plus, I don’t mind working early, and I know you only keep the store open on Sundays through Fire and Ice. The rest of the winter, Community Craft will remain closed on Sundays, right?”

  Sammy nodded in agreement. “Yes, that’s true. Unless someone in the community needs the doors opened for use of the craft room—then we’ll make special arrangements to open up on a Sunday.”

  Deborah rubbed at her eyelid. “Not to mention, everything was left in such disarray last night. I would’ve felt horrible leaving you hanging to clean this mess yourself.”

  “Did her husband go along? To church, I mean?” Sammy swiped at her bangs, which desperately needed a trim. She needed to pay a visit to Lizzy at Live and Let Dye hair salon real soon, or she’d impatiently chop them off crookedly herself. It wouldn’t be the first time poor Lizzy had needed to “fix” her hair.

  “No. Wanda said church wasn’t Marty’s sort of thing. Honestly, she had only just started attending herself. I begged her for months before she finally acquiesced.” Deborah sighed. “And anyway, a guy she used to work with at her old job before she started teaching yoga at the rec center goes to our church, and I guess Marty has issues with that.”

  “Oh? A little possessive, huh?” Sammy wanted to mention that Wanda’s husband seemed to be MIA, but she figured Heidi had shared that in confidence, so she held her tongue.

  “I feel so stiff without practicing this morning. Yoga is so good for you. You should try it, Sammy,” Deborah suggested. “The stretching just eases all the tension from your body. It really helps with my mood too.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not very flexible.” Sammy chuckled. “Besides, I get enough exercise around here.” She widened her eyes and gazed around the shop. “I just need to stay away from the Sweet Tooth Bakery,” she added as she tapped her stomach with her hands. “Hey, have you ever considered leading a yoga class? It’s not like you don’t have the background. I would think that would be a good fit for you, being a former ballerina and all. Besides, you teach the glass painting here—you also have amazing teaching skills. I mean, who else can teach someone to paint a rose when it initially looked like a cabbage?” She laughed.

  Sammy could see Deborah contemplating the idea, so she added, “You should think about it.”

  “Maybe. Yeah … I’ll definitely think about that.”

  “All righty, you think about it. Meanwhile, let’s get back to work.” Sammy turned, then stopped herself. “Hey, by the way, did you know Wanda’s house is up for sale?”

  “Yeah, she told us at the holiday party that she wanted to downsize. I wish you hadn’t had to miss the party; she had the most beautiful Christmas decorations this year. Honestly, the house looked like something out of a storybook. Anyhow, she claimed the older Victorian was drafty, cost an arm and a leg to heat, and was way too much work. She said she wanted to live simpler.”

  “And how did Marty feel about the potential move?”

  Deborah stared at her palms. “Dunno. But as Wanda pointed out, he apparently doesn’t have to clean it. Which I could totally relate to; her husband sounds exactly like my Danny when it comes to cleaning.”

  “I guess she doesn’t have to worry about that now,” Sammy said gloomily as she hung her head in sadness.

  Deborah mirrored her action.

  Sammy could see their mood was going downhill. She needed to change that before customers entered the store. “We’d better split up and look for items to fill that empty display window.”

  Sammy left Deborah and began to peruse the racks, walls, and shelves of Community Craft. She moved into the storage room and removed an aged wooden five-foot ladder that closely matched her own height and lugged it to the front of the store.

  Deborah almost collided with her between the narrow racks of knit scarves and then turned and paused with a questioning look. “I’m guessing you want to hang a few quilted items off of that?”

  “You got it; that’s exactly my thought. After working closely together this past year, I think you finally know how to read my mind.” Sammy winked.

  Deborah returned the smile, then moved in the direction of the shelves where the quilted items were on display as Sammy stepped inside the window.

  While Sammy was adjusting the ladder in the perfect spot and gathering the artificial snow along the wooden legs, something caught the corner of her eye. Bunched in the corner beneath the artificial snow lay Wanda’s hand-sewn lap quilt. A pang hit her heart. She bent at the waist and retrieved the heirloom off the display floor. She’d have to return this special keepsake to Wanda’s family sometime soon. She wondered who had pieced it together, if not Wanda herself. Sammy folded the quilt neatly and stepped out of the window so she could tuck the blanket safely inside the drawer of her office desk. After making sure the lap quilt was placed inside a plastic bag and put away, she returned and began hanging various table runners that Deborah had left in a heap beside the entrance to the window.

  As Sammy was draping the runners over the ladder, she felt that itchy feeling one got when it seemed like someone was watching. She lifted her eyes and looked through the glass and noted the crowd had dissipated in front of Liquid Joy, but Detective Liam Nash was lingering with a steaming coffee in his hand. She should’ve known he’d be watching her
.

  When the detective noticed her gaze, he looked both ways across Main Street and then stepped off the sidewalk and headed in the direction of Community Craft.

  Sammy breathed deep. She wished it wasn’t only tragedy that brought that man around. She stepped out of the display window and met the officer by the front door.

  “Good morning, Detective. What brings you out this frosty morning?” Sammy held the door while he stepped inside the shop. She hoped he noticed the lightness in her tone and greeting to make up for her agitation the previous night.

  Liam wiped his feet on the welcome mat and then took a sip from his Liquid Joy cup before he answered. “I’m retracing Wanda’s steps from yesterday. Seems her husband is missing, and things aren’t setting right in my mind. Actually, I’m anxious to hear what the medical examiner has to say about her autopsy.” The detective scrutinized Sammy as if he already knew she had information and was waiting for her to crack. Could he read the deep parts of her mind? She hoped not.

  “Really? Well, that sure is interesting news,” Sammy said, a little too enthusiastically. She’d tried to act surprised and had overshot. She didn’t want the detective to know Heidi had confided in her about Wanda’s missing husband. Otherwise, her cousin might never share info with her again, and she could lose her best inside source within the police department.

  “Yeah. Really.” The detective studied her.

  Sammy shrugged innocently. “Beats me. I don’t really know the guy.” Her eyes left his penetrating gaze.

  “You don’t?”

  “Uh-uh, not really.” Sammy lifted her shoulders innocently. “He’s only stepped inside Community Craft maybe a handful of times, and when he has, Wanda’s always been with him.”

  “Can you help me retrace Wanda’s steps yesterday while she was here in the store?” Detective Nash lifted his coffee and took another sip.

  “Sure, come on in.” Sammy encouraged the detective to leave the front entrance mat, where he was still dripping snow despite wiping his feet. She led him to the glass-encased craft room within the store.