Crimped To Death

by Tonya Kappes

  “Right.” I snapped my fingers. “No problem.”

  The dingy bell above the door jingled.

  “Now there is a problem,” I muttered when I looked to see who walked in.

  Officer Beverly Kiss.

  “Good afternoon.” Officer Kiss rested her hands on her holster.

  If I had the nerve, I might have asked her where she would place her hands if her holster wasn’t there because every time I had seen her in her uniform, that was where she had them.

  “I’ll be with you in a minute,” I said and turned back to Sarah who happened to be picking through her bridal box.

  “Our next appointment is scheduled in a couple days, right?” Sarah asked. She picked up one bead after the other and held them up to the sun.

  “I have all the appointments listed on your tag attached to your bride’s box.” I gestured to the lid.

  I had found it had been easier to schedule the appointments in advance to not only keep me on schedule, but it also put the brides a little more at ease. There were four different scheduled appointments after the initial meeting. Each one was used to perfect the design and if more were needed, there was allotted time toward the end.

  “At that appointment, we will work on the final design of the most important piece.” I paused for a dramatic effect. “Yours.”

  A secretive smile formed on Sarah’s lips as though she was holding the biggest piece of classified information for brides.

  “All my own?” she questioned. “No one else in the world will have my design.”

  I nodded. “One of a kind,” I said again nailing the coffin shut.

  It was a shame that all of Margaret’s friends were coming in here telling me that they all wanted to one up her and the other girls. I couldn’t imagine the Divas all trying to backstab each other.

  Ahem. Officer Kiss cleared her throat.

  “I have to go now.” I closed Sarah’s bride box and picked it up. “I’ll see you in a couple days.”

  Sarah didn’t say a word to apologize for her behavior. Not a thank you or sorry I was so rude, which I wished she had done. And her mother didn’t even correct her. Her mom followed right behind her as they waltzed right out of the store.

  “Can I see that?” Officer Kiss pointed to Sarah’s bridal box that was under my arm.

  “Why?” I asked and squeezed my arm a little closer to my body.

  There wasn’t a real reason she couldn’t look in it, but it was at least one thing that the police didn’t have access to. Plus I wanted to know why.

  “Do you do those for all the brides?” Her eyes were sharp and assessing.

  “Fine.” I said.

  I would like to say that I resigned to her request so I could get some clues, but truth-be-told, I didn’t look good in orange and that was the color of Swanee’s detention center jumpsuits.

  I put the box on the table and opened it.

  “These are bridal boxes for each bride that contracts me to design some sort of jewelry for their wedding.” I pointed to the tag. “Every one has the bride’s name attached to it and on the other side of the tag are all the appointments we had scheduled for the project.”

  Officer Kiss had a little notebook like Noah. I wondered if those were distributed in their cop classes or whatever they took. Or if there was a secret cop store where they picked up their little notebooks.

  She was always a pretty gal. Her long brown hair was all one length. When she was on the job she wore it up in a loose ponytail bun on the back of her head. The blue uniform did bring out her blue eyes against her olive skin. She had nice, thick eyebrows that were shaped perfectly to fit her eyes. Her police radio was clipped on the left shoulder; her badge was pinned above the pocket over her heart from which she retrieved that notebook. On each side of the shirt, a little below the shoulder, there was a small pin with the initials S.P.D. I could only assume stood for Swanee Police Department.

  Her upper body was a little puffed out due to the bulletproof vest, which led to a much smaller waist that was cinched with the belt full of all the cop paraphernalia. My eyes glazed over the gun, Taser, flashlight, handcuffs and all the other stuff she had stuck on there.

  Sadly, she still looked thinner than me and I only had on a thin layer of clothing.

  “Okay.” She pointed her pen at the bride box for me to continue.

  “Oh,” I shook my head to get back into the game. “It’s the same as a tackle box. All of these different compartments holds a different example of beads I collected after my initial sit down with the bride-to-be, where she fills out a form that has the type of wedding she is having along with the colors she would like.”

  “Kind of wedding?” She cocked her brow as a little laugh escaped her lips.

  “Outside, inside, fancy, or not.” I waved my hands in the air. “Shit, Sean and I got married in front of the Justice of the Peace. I don’t think I had any jewelry on.”

  “What about under here?” She pointed to the tray that lifted off.

  “Under,” I whispered.

  Though I knew what was under there, sweat beaded up on my palms as I lifted the tray. Deep down I knew nothing was going to jump out or grab me, but you never know always sat in the back of my head. A very poisonous spider could’ve gotten in there and it could possibly jump out and bite me.

  I picked up the tray and placed it on the table next to the box. Officer Hart leaned over. She blew a stray hair that fell into her face, almost making her seem a little more personable.

  “Do you always keep these types of things in the bottom?” she asked referring to the tools and stringing equipment.

  “Yes.” I peeked over her shoulder. “Sometimes I have to meet the bride the day of the wedding or during a rehearsal, so I grab their box and go.”

  “What about these?” She picked up the crimping tool.

  “Everything you see in there is what I use.” I held up a finger. “If I have made all the pieces, I will take out the tray and put the finished product in there because I obviously don’t need the beads anymore.”

  “What about the tools? Do you take those out?” she asked, replacing the crimp tool and picking up the pliers.

  “No,” I said and shook my head. “Every tool in there is a must and can be used at anytime.”

  “How so?”

  “If I’m at the church before the wedding and say the bracelet breaks, which I have never had happen,” I said and knocked on my head to gesture as wood. “These are the only tools I need to repair the bracelet within minutes.”

  “I see.” She sat the pliers back in the box and scribbled something down on her paper. “And you keep the boxes in your possession at all times, including the weddings?”

  “Yes. Umm.” I thought for a second. “Not all times. Sometimes I go and watch the wedding. I collect it when the wedding is over.”

  “Then you bring it back here and inventory it?” She continuously wrote.

  “Yes. Um. . .” I knew she was looking for details and I couldn’t figure out why. “No. Sort of.”

  Without lifting her face up, she slid her eyes up to me with her brows lifted and she stopped writing.

  “I mean, I bring it back and Marlene cleans out the boxes. She takes out the beads we didn’t use, cuts off the bride’s tags, cleans them with wipes, and cleans off the tools. Then she puts a new tag on it, puts the tools back in and sticks it on the shelf until we get a new client.”

  “How many boxes do you have?”

  “Four.”

  “And where is the inventory list for the brides and the boxes?” she asked.

  “Inventory list?” I had never heard of an inventory list for my made-up boxes. “The only inventory list I’m required to keep is the one for my accountant.”

  “You don’t check the tools back in as you get them out? So anyone could take your tools and you’d never know?” she asked.

  I didn’t like her tone. I could see where this was going.

  “What
are you saying?” I asked straightforward.

  “Your tool was found at Dr. Frisk’s dental office. There are no prints on it other than his and some of his blood.” She put her hand flat on the table and leaned so close to me I could tell she was chewing Zebra Stripes tutti-fruity gum. “Someone either came in here and took a tool from underneath your nose during one of your beading classes, though you claim you count those every time.” She stood up, ramrod straight with her arms across her chest. “Or someone took them from a bride’s box when you weren’t looking.”

  Damn. She was good.

  Unfortunately, I knew there was a pair missing from the other night and it was around Bernadine’s chair, which made me shudder to think it could have been Bernadine. But she did sleep with him and he did tell her that he still wanted to sue her even though he was trying to give her the pack of lies about getting back together and taking care of her.

  “I’m going to need that bride inventory list.” Officer Hart didn’t budge from her spot.

  My head swirled and the room began to spin. I put my hand on the table to steady myself. There was no way there was a killer in my bead shop. Or a client for that matter. Everyone was eager to learn and the brides didn’t know Henry.

  “Henry just moved back a few months ago.” I lowered myself into one of the beading chairs. “I haven’t had a wedding deadline it the past few months.”

  “This could have been a premeditated murder.”

  “Premeditated?” That word didn’t set well in my gut.

  “That means that someone had this planned.”

  “I know what it means.” I couldn’t help but be a little proud that my crime TV knowledge was helping out a little bit. “But who would’ve known that Henry Frisk was coming back?”

  “Maybe they didn’t. But maybe Henry Frisk pissed that person off and that person wanted to kill him.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m not saying this is right, but the someone that wanted to kill him is doing a great job pointing the evidence to Bernadine.”

  “Bernadine didn’t do this.” I assured her.

  “Women who are angry can get tempers, Holly.” Her eyes lowered. “You know that.”

  She was good at reminding me about all the times the police were called to help settle a fight between me and Sean any given weekend night in which we had a little too much liquid courage from The Livin’ End.

  “I do, but Bernadine had no reason to hurt him, much less kill him.” I slumped down in my chair.

  “I think when your lifestyle is about to change that puts a great deal of stress on a woman, don’t you?” she snidely asked.

  “Yes. I had a hard time when Sean left me and yes I did have to borrow money from Ginger, but I’m not Bernadine.” It was no secret that I had a hard time making ends meet when Sean left me and Willow high and dry. We had to find a place to live and I had to get a job. That was when I moved into Ginger’s country lake cottage and opened The Beaded Dragonfly. “As you can see, I’ve made it on my own. And Bernadine has too with Second Cup.”

  “And if what you say is true, then someone has stolen your tools to pin the murder on her along with her great motive.” Officer Hart tapped the end of her pen on her notebook. “What about that inventory list of brides.”

  “Marlene,” I stood up and walked over to the counter. Marlene was doing a good job pretending she was shining the glass beads when she was actually all ears.

  “I don’t keep a log,” She leaned over the counter and whispered. “I just take out the beads and never really pick up the tray because there is always so much left over.”

  “Did you say that you don’t keep a log of when the bride boxes are returned?” Office Hart didn’t look up as she wrote.

  “Not in those words, but yes.” Marlene let out a long sigh. “I clip off the bride’s tag and put a new one on. I take out the left over beads and put them back in stock. Then I put the box back on the shelf.”

  “So. . .” Officer Hart hesitated. “You have no idea when someone took the crimp tool. Actually, stole the crimp tool, which is a crime in itself. Interesting.”

  Marlene and I stood there and watched Officer Hart walk out of the shop. We waited in silence before we saw her get into her police car and pull out.

  “Holly.” Marlene’s voice was shaky. “Weren’t you looking for a crimp tool after the Wine and Bead class?”

  “Yes.” I tried to swallow the lump in the middle of my throat.

  “Did I notice you looking around for it where Bernadine was sitting?” She sounded like she was almost afraid to hear my answer.

  “Yes,” I murmured under my breath.

  “Do you think—”

  “I don’t know,” I interrupted her before I let the words escape her mouth.

  The evidence was mounting up. Bernadine was not happy with Henry. Who would be? He was trying to stop her alimony. She was a Diva and we did dream up bad ways to hurt our exes, but never kill them. That would let them off too easy.

  Bernadine’s crimp tool was missing from the Wine and Bead class. They found the crimp tool in his office. And she’s missing the exact same knife Noah Druck claimed was the actual murder weapon.

  As much as I didn’t want to believe Bernadine didn’t do it, Officer Hart’s words replayed over and over. “I think when your lifestyle is about to change that puts a great deal of stress on a woman, don’t you?”

  “Marlene!” Bernadine used her butt to swing open the bead shop door. The bells jingled. She held her arms in the air, a bottle of wine in each. “Grab the glasses. It’s wine o’clock and I’m drinking a few glasses.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Noah Druck showed up right after you left with a warrant to look for the knife set.” Bernadine wrapped her fingers around her wine glass. She lifted the glass to her lips and took a big gulp. “He was a little too late.” She winked.

  “What does that mean?” I asked her.

  The Divas trickled in one-by-one for the impromptu meeting interrupting my conversation with Bernadine. The wink wasn’t a friendly wink. It was the kind that told me she took care of something. What was that something?

  “Bernadine,” Cheri rushed over to Bernadine’s side. Her black hair was neatly tucked up in a teal crocheted beret. “How are you?”

  “Someone is definitely trying to frame me for the murder of Henry and I have no idea who it is or why they are doing it.” The edges of her eyes dipped into a frown.

  I watched her body language closely as Ginger, Agnes, and Flora got caught up on the gossip of what was going on with the investigation. She told them about the crimp tool and the knife, but failed to tell them that she had a matching set of knives minus that particular knife. I kept my mouth shut.

  “It’s my understanding that Bradford was at The Livin’ End the night Henry was on a date with some blond girl.” It was a good time to get the Divas involved in the investigation. Bernadine was a Diva and I was going to have to put any doubts aside and try to help figure out who really did kill Henry.

  “Date?” Agnes Pearl picked at the grey hair that curled in the middle of her ear. “Henry was dating?”

  All eyes slid to Bernadine.

  “I thought he was dating me.” Her voice lowered along with her head. She twirled her fingers in her lap as silence fell over the group. “Apparently, Henry was trying to sweet talk me into signing the papers to discontinue the alimony money by telling me how much he missed me and wanted to get back together. And he got me back in bed just hours before someone killed him.”

  Something then happened that never happened. The Divas were speechless. I’m not even sure if any of them were breathing.

  “That bastard!” Marlene yelled out snapping everyone to the present.

  “Bastard,” Agnes Pearl whispered and shook her head.

  “Did you tell Bennie about that?” Flora hen-pecked on her phone. We all knew she was sending Bennie a message. “Any of them two-bit women could have killed him.”

&n
bsp; “Why?” Bernadine asked.

  “Maybe he told one of them that he was going to get back together with you?” Cheri smacked her hand on the table. We all grabbed our wine glasses to save them from tipping over.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Marlene chomped. “What if he was serious about getting back together and he met the blonde to tell her that he was getting back together with you?”

  There was a little glimmer of hope in Bernadine’s eyes. I could tell she was wanting so bad to think Henry was regretting all he had done to her, but deep down we all knew he wasn’t.

  “Agnes, do you think you could have Bradford over for a little lunch or dinner and pick his brain?” I asked.

  “I do owe him a batch of fudge for getting me out of my ticket.” Agnes said.

  We all kept our lips pinched. Agnes was always causing some sort of trouble and Bradford spent most of his time trying to get her out.

  “That would be great, Agnes,” Bernadine said and fiddled with the zipper on her jacket.

  Willow’s hooves sounded like high-heels trotting out of the storage room. She could hear Bernadine’s snack baggie from miles away. I glanced up at the clock. We had been here for almost forty minutes and nothing was getting accomplished.

  The facts still remained. All the evidence in the murder pointed to Bernadine.

  There were people there that I needed to question about Dr. Russell and Henry’s fight. Cheri had a plausible suspect with the other women, but Dr. Russell had more to lose than anyone. . .his livelihood.

  “I’m still thinking we need to look into Dr. Russell’s fight with Henry.” I tapped my watch. “That is why I am going to the Barn Dance Committee meeting tomorrow night at seven.”

  “You?” Flora’s mouth dropped. “I thought you and Bobbi Hart had a little spat about that.”

  “Spit-spat.” I blew it off. “It’s time I started to really become part of this community.”

  “Holly Harper, I know you better than that.” Agnes Pearl’s eyelashes lowered sending a shadow down her cheeks, calling me out on my downright lie.

  “Fine. I had to eat a big piece of humble pie and give her a free stretchy bracelet.” I smiled from ear-to-ear. I looked at Bernadine. “Anything for my Divas.”