The Stitching Hour

by Amanda Lee

  As I was walking back to the Seven-Year Stitch, Priscilla Atwood came out of the Horror Emporium. I couldn’t swear to it, but I got the impression she’d been standing at her door waiting for me to walk past.

  “Good morning,” she said.

  “Hi. How are you?”

  “Fine. I’m glad it isn’t raining and hopeful that the good weather continues into the evening.”

  “Me too.” I tried to ease past her with a have a good day, but she stepped into my path. She was wearing green today and reminded me of an overgrown leprechaun.

  “You aren’t stealing my actors away from me, are you?” She smiled, but the expression didn’t reach her eyes.

  “No. Why?”

  “I understand that they’re all coming by your shop this morning for some reason.”

  “Oh . . . that. My mom is coming in for the open house, and I thought some of them might be interested in finding other gigs after the Horror Emporium closes up shop,” I said.

  “So might Claude and I.”

  “Of course. You’ll have to pop in and say hello when Mom gets into town.” I hoped Mom wasn’t going to throttle me over this whole charade. Maybe when I explained my reasoning behind it, she’d understand. Maybe.

  “Indeed we will.” She gave me a more genuine smile this time and then went back inside her shop.

  When I stepped into the Stitch, Travis Stevens was gone, and Vera was writing in her notebook as fast as she could. I unsnapped Angus’s leash and put it back behind the counter. He ambled into the office to get a drink of water.

  I waited until Vera looked up from her writing to ask, “Well?”

  “He’s not that great of an actor and obviously didn’t know Keira.”

  “What makes you so sure?”

  “He said he was bummed that she died because he thought she was really cute and he’d wanted to ask her out,” she said. “No guy who’d spoken with Keira for more than ten minutes would ask her out.”

  “Vera!”

  “Well, the truth’s the truth. Kiera being dead doesn’t change that.”

  “No, I suppose not.”

  Our next suspect came through the door. Angus hurried from the back to see who’d come in.

  “Oh, what a pretty dog!” The girl—a perky redhead—patted her thighs, and Angus trotted over to greet her. “He’s so big! I love him!”

  “You’re Adalyn Daye?” Vera asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Where are you from originally?” I asked.

  “Oklahoma.”

  I looked at Vera. “Keira had spent a little time in Oklahoma, hadn’t she?”

  “She might have,” Vera said. “Adalyn, did you know Keira Sherman, the girl who was working the concession stand the other night? She worked for MacKenzies’ Mochas.”

  “No, I sure didn’t,” said Adalyn. “I mean, I’d heard of her, but I didn’t know her myself. But wasn’t that the saddest thing?”

  “It was,” I said. I started to ask from whom Adalyn had heard of Keira, but she didn’t give me the chance.

  “Well, I know we’re short on time. My monologue is from The Glass Menagerie.”

  And so it went all morning. Vera and I watched audition after audition, and none of the actors admitted to knowing Keira.

  • • •

  Vera had gone, and I was waiting on a customer who needed some Persian yarn for her needlepoint project when Jared Willoughby walked in. I’d met the tall, athletic young man only once when I’d stopped in at his garage to have the oil changed in my Jeep. But it was through Jared that I’d met his mom, Christine.

  I had a good idea why he was here.

  “Hi, Jared. I’ll be with you in just a minute.”

  “Take your time.” He was petting Angus, who’d walked over to greet him. “So this is the famous Angus. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  The woman with the Persian yarn made her selections and paid for them. I placed her yarn, a sheet about our classes, and a flyer about the upcoming open house into her bag and wished her a good weekend as she left.

  Then I joined Jared in the sit-and-stitch square where he’d taken a seat on the sofa facing the window.

  I sat on a red club chair. “How’s your mom?”

  “She’s holding up. It’s no fun being a murder suspect. But then, you know that.”

  “I do.” I offered him something to drink, and when he declined, I returned to our weighty subject. “And what about you? I know Keira’s death had to be quite a blow to you. After all, you’d been dating for how long?”

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “We were off and on for two or three months.” He ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry for Keira—she was a better person than the one everybody saw—and I’m especially sad for her dad, but I’m really concerned about my mom right now. I’m scared that the cops are trying to pin Keira’s murder on her.”

  “Your mom will be fine,” I said. “Ted and Manu will find Keira’s killer, and Christine will be cleared.”

  “I wish I was as sure of that as you are,” he said.

  I didn’t say so, but I wished I felt as certain of that outcome myself. “Can you think of anyone who might’ve wanted to hurt Keira?”

  He shook his head. “I’ve been racking my brain since the police talked with me the other night. I can’t think of a soul who’d want to kill her. I mean, she didn’t have a lot of friends, but no one was sending her death threats either.”

  “I didn’t know Keira well. What was she like?”

  He leaned back into the soft cushions of the sofa. “She was beautiful—that’s what attracted me to her at first. As I got to know her, I saw that her prickly attitude came from her insecurities.”

  “Really? Gee, I wouldn’t have thought Keira would have felt insecure about anything.”

  “She was insecure about everything,” he said. “She has an older sister named Bethany who is not only gorgeous but brilliant. She has a doctorate in psychology as well as a law degree, and she’s a criminal attorney in one of the largest law firms in Seattle.”

  “Whoa. I can see where having her for a sister could be intimidating.”

  “I kept telling Keira to be her own person and to stop comparing herself to her sister or to anyone else, but she said that was easy for me to say because my mom is crazy about me.” He shook his head. “Keira couldn’t see how much her family cared about her. I mean, her dad was even buying her a restaurant, for goodness’ sake.”

  “What did she say when you pointed that out to her?” I asked.

  “She said he wasn’t buying the restaurant for her out of love but that he was buying it to make her appear to be more successful. She felt that her dad didn’t think she was good enough . . . and that he never would.”

  “How sad that she felt that way.”

  “Even sadder is the fact that those insecurities worked their way into everything else in Keira’s life,” Jared said. “She refused to trust people, looked for everyone’s ulterior motive, and believed that no one could truly care for her.”

  “Your mom told me that you and Keira had broken up but that Keira was having a hard time letting go. She said that Keira was even asking you to pay her bills. Why would she do that if her family had enough money to buy her a restaurant?”

  Jared blew out a breath. “Money was just another manipulation to Keira. She would push me away and then chase after me. This last time, though, I’d had enough of her games. She wouldn’t grow up and allow me to help her see her self-worth, and I didn’t want her to keep dragging me down. I couldn’t handle all that negativity in my life, you know?”

  “I understand completely,” I said. “We need people in our lives who help lift us up, not tear us down . . . or even try to hold us where we are.”

  • • •

 
After Jared left, the melancholy lingering in his wake cast a pall over the shop, including Angus and me. Angus stretched out by the front window and fell into a fitful sleep. Huge gray clouds had moved in, and I believed that the drizzle we were getting now was simply a precursor of what was to come. So much for Priscilla’s weather holding out.

  There weren’t any customers in the shop at the moment, and I wandered into the storeroom to do a quick inventory. When I heard the bells over the door jangle to announce an arrival, I was noting the fact that I was running low on several floss colors—and in this company’s case, floss numbers.

  “Welcome to the Seven-Year Stitch!” I called. “Please make yourself at home, and I’ll be out in a second!”

  As I snapped a photo of the depleted flosses’ numbers with the camera on my phone, Ted came into the storeroom and slid his arms around my waist.

  “I hope this is what you meant about making myself at home.” He kissed the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

  “Ooh, let me take a selfie.” I changed my camera setting to allow us to do the modern-day equivalent of a photo booth. I wouldn’t be adding our goofy poses to any social media sites, but Ted and I could enjoy looking at them and laughing at ourselves.

  Ted was dressed casually today in jeans and a navy blue sweater that played up his eyes. He was supposed to have been off today, but Keira’s murder had everyone in the department working overtime.

  “Are you having a good day?” he asked.

  “It’s better now.”

  Angus had followed Ted to the storeroom and was waiting patiently outside the door. The dog probably thought the three of us were getting ready to have lunch.

  “I’m sorry, Mr. O’Ruff,” I said. “But Ted and I worked through lunch today because we’re planning on having a big dinner at the steakhouse near Lincoln City.”

  Angus cocked his head, and I looked at Ted, hoping he hadn’t come by to tell me he couldn’t make it this evening.

  He smiled. “That’s absolutely right.” He looked at Angus. “But don’t worry, buddy. We’ll bring you back a doggie bag.” He went out to the counter where he’d left a small box from MacKenzies’ Mochas. “In the meantime, I had to make sure you two were keeping your strength up today. I brought peanut butter cookies for everybody.”

  I grinned and shook my head at how cute they were—Angus waiting patiently for his cookie . . . Ted easing it slowly out of the box to tease him just a bit.

  After treating Angus, Ted turned to me. “How about you? Would you like a cookie?”

  “Not right now. But I’ll make a fresh pot of coffee for you to enjoy with yours.”

  “Thanks. I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  “So . . . um . . . how was the mood at MacKenzies’ Mochas?”

  “I think Blake must’ve taken Calloway’s advice and talked with Sadie,” he said. “There’s a bit of coolness between them but nothing like what I’d expect if she still suspected him of having an affair.”

  “I’m hoping she’ll find time to drop in later. I don’t want to pry, but I would like to know that everything’s all right with the two of them.”

  Angus, who had practically inhaled his cookie, sat waiting for another. When Ted and I walked into the office so I could brew the coffee, the dog trailed along behind us and flopped onto the floor beside my desk.

  As I busied myself with the coffeemaker, I said as casually as I could, “I suppose I should tell you what Vera and I were doing this morning.”

  Ted put the box of cookies on my desk, slid his hands into his front pockets, and looked up at the ceiling. “Let’s hear it.”

  “It’s not that big a deal . . . really.”

  He lowered his eyes back to my face. “Of course, it’s a big deal. Had it not been, you’d have said, Hey, guess what Vera and I did. This was a I have a confession to make since you’re probably gonna find out about it anyway and you’re not gonna like it thing. So give it to me straight please.”

  “Well. . . .”

  He frowned.

  “Okay,” I said. “She and I got to wondering if any of the actors at the Horror Emporium could’ve known Keira prior to her death, so we . . . auditioned them.”

  “For what—the role of killer?” He affected an old-man-director voice. “Were you to be cast in the role of Keira Sherman’s murderer, how would you do it?”

  “Oh, my gosh! That’s better than what we did. I should’ve talked with you beforehand.”

  “Marcy!”

  “What? I mean, had we done it your way, we might’ve at least gained some insight into how exactly Keira was killed,” I said. “As it stands, we’ve got nada.”

  He nodded toward the coffeemaker. “How much longer? I’m needing that caffeine more than ever.”

  I glanced at the aromatic brew streaming into the pot. “Any second now.”

  “So you and Vera held auditions? For what?”

  “We left it open. See, Vera pretended to be Mom’s assistant, and we let the actors think Mom is scouting for new talent.”

  “Babe, your mom is a costume designer. She has nothing to do with casting.”

  “Well, of course, you and I realize that, but they only know she carries some clout in the business and that she knows people.”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “And how exactly did you use these auditions to investigate Keira’s murder?”

  The coffee was down to an occasional drip, so I slid the pot off the burner and poured Ted a cup. Before I could return the pot, a drop of coffee hit the burner with an angry hiss.

  “We let the actors perform a brief monologue and then asked them questions.” I gave him the example of the girl from Oklahoma.

  “But, sweetheart, if the killer was working undercover at the Horror Emporium in order to get an opportunity to murder someone—namely, Keira—he or she is not going to admit to having a prior connection to the victim.”

  “I know. Still, Vera and I got to meet the people behind the Horror Emporium masks and learn a little about them,” I said. “If we find out anything new or see any of them acting suspiciously, we can fill you in.”

  “And what’re you planning on telling your mom when all of these actors flock to the Stitch to see if she can help make them stars?”

  I scrunched up my face. “I’m not ready to think about that yet.”

  • • •

  I’d changed into a red dress and nude heels before my date with Ted. He’d dressed up too. He wore gray slacks, a white shirt, and a navy sport coat. So he looked great, but he didn’t appear to be headed off to the police station.

  And he brought me a single red rose. I put it in a bud vase and placed it in the center of the kitchen table. Ted gave Angus a granola bone—which I knew wouldn’t be eaten until we returned—and again promised him a doggie bag.

  On the drive to Lincoln City, Ted and I speculated about what Angus might be doing in our absence.

  “First, he’ll call all his friends from the dog park,” Ted said.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. He’ll send them a group text.”

  “Of course. I’d forgotten how tech savvy he is.”

  “So you think he’s having several friends over instead of just one special someone?” I asked.

  “Well, he hasn’t given me the impression that he has his eye on anyone special. Has he said anything to you?”

  “No . . . but then, he wouldn’t.” I took Ted’s hand. “Too bad everyone can’t find someone as wonderful as you.” I groaned as soon as I’d said the words. “How sappy was that?”

  “Pretty sappy. I might’ve gotten a cavity. In fact, I thought for a second there that we’d been transported into a corny movie of the week that would end in one of us tragically dying.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that Jare
d Willoughby came by the Stitch today. He’s really worried about his mom, and of course, he’s upset over Keira. That poor guy has been so unlucky in love.” I shook my head slightly. “First he had that disastrous short-lived marriage, then got into what—from all accounts—was a stormy relationship with Keira.”

  “He’ll bounce back. And he’ll find someone.”

  “Yeah . . . I know. I just hope you and Manu can keep his mom out of prison. I know she’s innocent, Ted.”

  “We’ll do our best, babe.” He squeezed my hand. “Hey . . . we were laughing and joking about Angus planning a party, and now we’re down in the dumps. This date is supposed to be cheering us up, you know.”

  “I know. Subject dropped. We’ll put everything aside and have a wonderful night.”

  “All right,” Ted said. “I do love how you’re so compassionate, but tonight I don’t want you to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

  “I won’t.” I wished I hadn’t mentioned Jared, Keira, and Christine. The investigation was consuming so much of our attention, and we’d both wanted to put it out of our minds tonight. I resolved again to dedicate the evening to having fun and not being distracted by thoughts of something that—at least, for now—I could do nothing about.

  That resolution, like most, turned out to be easier said than done. When we walked into the restaurant, we saw Jared Willoughby having dinner with the lovely young actress, Adalyn Daye.

  Chapter Ten

  As Ted drove us back home, I went ahead and acknowledged the elephant in the room . . . er, the backseat.

  “Well, that was awkward . . . you know, trying to forget about the investigation when Jared Willoughby and his date are sitting at the table right across from ours.”

  “True. But I thought we did fairly well under the circumstances,” said Ted. “When we passed by them, you greeted them both by name. Is the woman a Seven-Year Stitch customer?”

  “No, she’s actually one of the actresses at the Horror Emporium. Her name is Adalyn Daye.”

  After Ted and I had been seated, dinner conversation had been relegated to the mundane for us and for Jared and his date. Neither couple seemed to want to talk within earshot of the other. Jared acted as if I’d caught him doing something wrong, and Adalyn seemed confused as to the weirdness that had settled between us.