Designed to Death

by Christina Freeburn

  “That court will turn on you and Making Legacies faster than they will the store.”

  “That’s what you’re counting on. I’ll put a stop to your plan.” Leslie snatched the sheets from my view.

  “What plan of mine? And why in the world would I want to harm you or your business, especially if it ended up hurting my grandmothers and their store?”

  That caught her off guard. Confusion entered her gaze and she stepped back from me.

  I fought back a smile. I shouldn’t be amused, but the over-the-topness of her behavior poked at my funny bone. If anyone deserved a fit of self-righteousness, it was me. It was because of her poor choice of a ‘diva’ that we were out money.

  “How would Scrap This, or I, profit from some scheme between Belinda and Darlene? If Belinda and Darlene planned this, why would Darlene throw a fit in the middle of the store for God and scrapbookers to see?”

  Leslie shoved the papers into her oversized Coach purse. “Now you’re trying to talk your way out of this. It’s not going to work. You, Belinda, and Darlene tried to conspire against me and got caught. I will get retribution for this.”

  “Ms. Amtower...” Cheryl’s voice carried from the hallway. “Please come to my office.”

  Leslie evil-eyeballed me. “You just wait until this gets out.”

  I shrugged. “I’d be worried, except I made a screenshot of the original thread.”

  Leslie’s eyes widened.

  I grinned.

  “You bring yours. I’ll bring mine.” Leslie stomped toward the back. “We’ll see who comes out the winner.”

  I’d bring it all right.

  People walked by the store, slowing down to peer into the large front window. No one took one step inside, unless they came by for a refund. The lookie-loos sped up if Cheryl, I, or Sierra caught their eye. I anticipated a little bit of a slow down since the news of Belinda’s murder was splashed all on the front page of the newspaper, but not a total stop.

  I thought customers would at least come in to snatch up an issue of Making Legacies featuring Belinda as the drama surrounding it could make it valuable. Instead, most returned their copy. They didn’t want to support cheating.

  The only good thing that came out of the conversation between Cheryl and Leslie was the rest of the copies were returned—almost forcibly—to the editor-in-chief. Grandma Cheryl didn’t appreciate her granddaughter being accused of being in cahoots with Darlene and Belinda to ruin the magazine.

  Darlene and Belinda, partners in crime. Or so it appeared. Belinda wasn’t the brightest person in the world, and also very shy. It wasn’t in her nature to do something that would bring a lot of heat and attention onto her. I truly believed she thought Darlene gave her those layouts which made it okay to submit. Why Belinda decided to submit was a question with no answer. Submitting layouts wasn’t something Belinda did. She considered her layouts to be nothing more than layouts, and not work. Entering into contests and trying to get on design teams wasn’t part of scrapbooking to Belinda.

  She loved the hobby aspect of scrapbooking, not the business cutthroat part of it. It was why she didn’t crop at the store. She didn’t like her pages compared to anyone else’s and had no desire of “improving” or making pages others would ooh and aah over. It was all for her and her mother.

  Did Hazel convince her daughter to submit? If Hazel saw those pages Belinda “made,” I could see her wanting her daughter to submit them—or doing it for her. Hazel and Eliza had turned one-upmanship into a lifestyle. It was their hobby. Hazel would want her daughter winning a title like “Life Artist Diva” before Darlene, especially when it was something her sister’s child wanted so much.

  If anyone was conspiring with Belinda it was Hazel. The back door buzzer hummed through the store.

  “Sorry I’m late!” Marilyn called out.

  “No problem. We’re not really hopping here.” I returned my attention to rearranging the Halloween product line as Sierra put all the decorations back up. At least it gave us something to do.

  “I don’t want Sierra late picking up the boys.” Marilyn scrambled behind the counter to put away her stuff.

  Sierra smiled at her and gave her a one-arm hug as she snagged her purse. “If they get into any trouble, I’ll be able to blame you. Did the cat get out again?”

  “I’ll deal with anyone I have to. The cat remained in.” Marilyn gathered up her hair and knotted it behind her neck. “I just couldn’t pull myself together today. I’ve been dragging all morning.”

  I slid a glance over at Marilyn. The talk of Belinda’s death likely brought back her husband’s murder and the effect it had on her family. The Kanes had been slowly recovering, and trying to move on with their lives without having to leave the town they loved.

  Grandma Cheryl stormed from the storage area and headed for the front door. Her cell phone clutched in her hand. “If she wasn’t grieving...”

  Darn it! I forgot to get rid of the signs. I flicked my gaze to the window. Thankfully, Hazel decided to end her spying attempt on the store. One, she wasn’t good at it. And two, I don’t know if I could hold Cheryl back from throttling the woman. But I had to try. Cheryl was headed on a woman hunt.

  “I’m going with her.” I pointed at my grandmother.

  Marilyn nodded. “Hurry.”

  I raced outside and caught up with Cheryl. “Grandma, where are you going?”

  She came to a full stop and spun around. “Young lady, you go back to the store right now.”

  “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine. I need you back in there managing things.”

  “Marilyn can handle it. You’re upset.” I placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I need to make sure you’re okay.

  Cheryl closed her eyes and muttered numbers under her breath. “I’m angry. That doesn’t mean I need my hand held. Really, Faith, I will be fine. I can handle this issue.”

  “What issue?”

  She said grieving woman, which meant Hazel so the problem had to do with Belinda’s murder. Or rather Hazel’s reaction to it.

  “I really don’t want you involved with this.”

  I linked my arm through my grandmother’s. “We’re family. Whatever is your problem is mine.”

  “Now you believe in that.”

  Heat skittered along my cheeks. I knew my grandmother was referring to the fact I refused to tell them what happened in Germany that caused me to run back home, withdraw from everyone, and push away a great guy.

  “Is Hazel telling more people Belinda’s death is our fault because Belinda came to the store for her necklace?”

  Cheryl’s face turned crimson.

  Fear and shame flashed through me. My grandmother was going to have a heart attack because of my big mouth. “Grandma—” My voice trembled and tears filled my eyes.

  Her expression softened. She patted my hand. “Honey, don’t worry about me. My temper gets the best of me but never controls me. How in the world did you hear about that? I told Hazel Saturday night none of us would waltz over to the store in the middle of the night to get a silly necklace. If she called you...” She clenched her fists.

  “No. No one called me except—” I changed direction of the conversation. Almost slipped and told her about my “meeting” with Darlene. “Karen England mentioned it last night at the police station...”

  Cheryl’s eyes narrowed and her grip on my hand tightened.

  Drat! I hadn’t meant to say that either. I walked out of one verbal slipup straight into another one. Well, might as well get the rest out. “I went to the store last night to try and find out why...”

  “Faith! What were you thinking?” Cheryl screeched. People on the other side of the street paused and stared at us. Cheryl sent a glare at them and had them scattering.

  I shook my head so hard, the rest of my body moved like a dog drying itself off. I hoped those people weren’t thinking I just confessed to the murder.

  “I wanted
to know why Belinda showed up at the store the night she was murdered.”

  “You lied to us. You told me and Hope you wanted to take Steve dinner.”

  “I didn’t lie.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I had meant to take Steve his dinner. I did. The light turned red at the intersection and I ended up going to the store.”

  “Your car just turned that way.” Cheryl narrowed her eyes. I knew she was wishing I was young enough to ground or turn over her knee.

  I needed to get to the end of this story and give as little detail as possible. “Detective Roget came by and made me go to the police station. Karen was there and told him what Hazel was saying...”

  Cheryl wasn’t looking any happier.

  “I called Steve for help. He came and got me out of there.”

  “Steve knows about your little shenanigans.” The fire in her eyes fizzled a little.

  I said the one thing I knew would get me out of any degree of hot water. “I kissed Steve to thank him for his help.”

  Cheryl grinned. “In that case, I think I’ll take you with me. Maybe you can get some information out of Steve.”

  Now my grandmother was getting involved in the case? Oh, I didn’t think so. I dragged my heels. “I think we should both go back to the store.”

  “Not until I find out if the police are taking what Hazel is saying seriously.”

  “I’m sure they’re not. Steve would tell us.”

  Cheryl nodded once. “Absolutely. That’s why we’re going to his office right now and finding out for certain. No sense waiting and wondering all day.”

  With arms linked, Cheryl and I made our way to the courthouse. A slight chill to the wind had me wishing that I had brought my jacket. I remained quiet knowing if I complained Grandma would send me back to the store. There was no way I wanted her wrath unleashed on Steve without him having backup. The poor guy deserved some consideration after all he had done for us, for me.

  The courthouse was a brisk walk from our store. It was located at what had once been the center of town before the growth spread in a rectangular instead of a square shape. Main Street was now at the far end of the town with the courthouse acting as the beginning. The police station sat at the very end of the street, one block over and at the end. What had once been a prime location for the heart of town was now an inconvenience. Most of the storefronts and homes on that side of Eden were vacant.

  We passed by the small side road leading to the park and the “fancy” restaurant in town. It was a Victorian style house converted into a small romantic dining place serving crab cakes, shrimp, and steak. They also carried three different kinds of wine: red, white, and zinfandel. Their dessert was to die for in a figurative sense while some claimed the seafood they served was to die for in the literal sense. I didn’t know either way because I hadn’t had the occasion for a romantic dinner since I moved back home.

  We went up the concrete steps leading to the old brick courthouse building. Metal detector archways, new additions to the building, greeted and said goodbye. I kind of understood wanting to make sure no one entered the building with firearms, but was curious why the county thought people would exit with them.

  I guess a gun-toting criminal wouldn’t be concerned about entering through the proper door.

  Fortunately, the air outside cooled Grandma down before we got to the courthouse. She was still determined to get her information but no longer looked like she wanted to hurt someone. We headed straight for the receptionist area. How did Mrs. Alwright feel about being the first line of defense if someone entered the courthouse with evil intentions?

  She was like the cruise director of the building, the one who directed people to the proper area. Filing a document, go to the left. Participating in a court hearing, bear to the right. Here to see a prosecutor, right side also. Need to pay a parking ticket. Wrong building, you needed the police department down the road and one block over.

  Mrs. Dawn Alwright looked away from the computer screen. She smiled at me and Grandma, a quizzical look on her face. If it had just been me, she’d figure I came to visit Steve, but with Grandma tagging along she’d have no idea what the visit entailed.

  “How can I help you ladies?”

  Grandma hustled me down the hallway. “We’re going back to visit Steve. No need to call ahead, it’s a surprise.”

  Mrs. Alwright’s eyebrows shot up.

  I grinned at her and waved, nearly tripping when out of the corner of my eye I spotted Leslie Amtower in the section of the building reserved for filing petitions and requests. Had she decided to “bring it” using the court system?

  We made it to Steve’s office. With a soft knock that didn’t qualify as even a tap, Grandma twisted the doorknob and stepped inside.

  Steve nodded at Grandma. He didn’t look surprised. I had a feeling Mrs. Alwright sent him a warning message.

  I took a look around Steve’s office. Still disorganized in a mad scientist kind of way, much unlike his house which was so orderly it caused me anxiety issues. I noticed a few new additions to his toy collection. Along with his paddle ball and the handheld video game there was a Rubik’s cube and an Etch-a-Sketch. I stared at it. I wondered if layouts could be designed on it, like a primitive tablet.

  Grandma Cheryl drew in a deep breath. What did she see? I knew that sound. It was her way of voicing disappointment and horror at a poor choice. I followed her gaze.

  I saw what brought about the shock, Steve’s collection of assorted no-need for refrigeration microwavable dinners. I knew the microwave wouldn’t bother Cheryl, but knowing the man survived on prepared food when she and Hope had an open door policy for him to join us for dinner would.

  Steve caught my eye. I jerked my head a couple of times in the direction of his food of choice.

  He went with the smart choice and picked his own topic of conversation.

  “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” He ended the question with a bright, welcoming smile as he shoved a folder into his desk drawer.

  The man was good. I doubted he really appreciated our interruption but he played it off and looked happy to see us. I smiled back.

  “Do the police believe the nonsense Hazel is saying?” Grandma asked.

  “I don’t know the police’s thoughts on any matter.” Steve’s expression and tone remained pleasant.

  “Don’t you sass me, young man.” She scowled at him. “You know exactly what I mean. Do the police really think the store had anything to do with Belinda’s murder? That we sent her there Saturday night?”

  “I’m not at liberty to say.” Steve leaned back in his chair.

  I wasn’t sure if he did it out of habit or if he was trying to put a little more distance between him and Grandma.

  “Not at liberty.” Cheryl slapped her hands onto Steve’s desk, bracing herself, she leaned forward.

  I swear if Cheryl had the capability of breathing fire, she’d have done it right then and there. Steve would’ve been a pile of smoldering ashes. To think I was finally ready to admit I had a thing for the guy. My grandmothers adored Steve, but they loved me. If protecting me meant getting someone, even Steve, in trouble they’d do it. I felt bad for him. I saw the conflict on his face. He wanted to relieve Grandma’s concerns but couldn’t. Poor guy. He had no idea what he was getting into all those years ago when he agreed to play knight-in-shining armor.

  “She’s trying to implicate Faith in the murder and you can’t help us.” Tears filled Cheryl’s voice.

  Steve cringed.

  Implicate me? Hazel was pointing the finger at me? Not for long. I’d dig up the proof to show Hazel the real murderer. “Grandma, the accusation won’t go anywhere.”

  “You never know.” Cheryl dropped into a seat in front of Steve’s desk.

  True. I’d been in a similar situation before, not that Grandma knew about it, but in the end justice prevailed and I believed it would this time also. Besides, Steve went with me to the store so I had a pretty
good witness for my side.

  “Grandma, Hazel is looking for someone to blame so she doesn’t blame herself.”

  Both Grandma and Steve stared at me. I couldn’t read Steve’s expression for a change but Grandma looked worried and intrigued by my words. I could almost see the words floating in her head, “Does my granddaughter actually think Hazel killed her own daughter?”

  I rushed into my explanation. “If Hazel kept fussing about the necklace, Belinda went to the store to calm her mother down.”

  “We’ve never worked that late,” Cheryl said.

  Good point. “Maybe Belinda decided to sneak in and get it. Make it look like Darlene was responsible and get her in trouble. Darlene had embarrassed her by calling her out in front of all those customers.”

  “It’s possible.” Cheryl tapped her chin, the anger and upset slowly draining from her.

  Steve studied me. It unnerved me a little. I really wished I could read his thoughts right now.

  “I don’t know the reason Belinda showed up,” I said. “It’s all a guess. But what I’m sure of is Hazel feels responsible for her daughter’s death and needs to shift it to someone else.”

  “It’s not fair of her to blame you or the store.”

  I placed a hand on Grandma’s arm. “I know, Grandma. And I don’t like being accused of a crime, especially murder, but this time I’ll forgive it. She’s grieving. She’s just lost her whole world and is trying to make some sort of sense of the senseless.”

  Grandma stood and hugged me. “You’re such a good girl. I’m so proud of you.”

  I returned her hug.

  “I’ll get back to the store.” Grandma winked at me and nudged me toward Steve. “Why don’t you visit for a while? Maybe you and Steve can go out for a late lunch.”

  Relief flowed through me. All was right with the world. Grandma had returned to matchmaker and no longer considered Steve an adversary. I wasn’t quite sure how Steve felt about the major personality shifts Grandma showed. He looked shocked, with a little bit of miff mixed in.

  We did barge in and interrupt his work day. I didn’t appreciate when anyone did that to me and I wasn’t trying to prosecute criminals. We very well could have heard something we shouldn’t have.