The Stitching Hour

by Amanda Lee

  “Are you sure?” Ted asked. “We’ve got this if you’d like to go home.”

  “We do,” said Manu. “We know the boyfriend, his new girlfriend, his mom . . . all the major players. We even know some of the people who might’ve been working with Mr. Sherman.”

  “No.” I lifted my chin. “I’m not gonna bail on you guys.” I took a deep breath. “I’m feeling better now. I just . . . I know exactly what you mean about getting a weird vibe from Mr. Sherman now.”

  • • •

  We went back inside and sat down in the chapel. The casket was wheeled from the viewing area to the front of the chapel before the service began. We were the only ones not socializing in the other two rooms when the coffin was brought into the chapel. Reggie, Manu, Ted, and I sat on the back row where we could observe everyone.

  Blake and Sadie came in, but they didn’t seem to notice us and sat in the middle on the side opposite us.

  The Atwoods came in. Not surprisingly, they looked as if they’d just come off the set of a comedic horror show. Claude wore a black tuxedo with tails, a ruffled black shirt, black bow tie, and black top hat. He even walked with a black cane with a gold handle. From where we were sitting, I couldn’t be sure, but the handle looked like the head of an eagle. Priscilla wore a long, Kelly green gown with a matching headband that held a large flower. Her hair was curled into an intricate updo. When she walked, I noticed there was a thigh-high slit in the gown and groaned aloud before I’d realized what I was doing.

  Ted raised a brow at me.

  “Sorry,” I whispered. “That’s just . . . inappropriate.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Definitely,” Reggie said from my other side. “Disgustingly immodest.”

  “Oh, it’s not that bad,” said Manu, and earned an elbow to the ribs from his wife.

  Ted chuckled into his fist.

  Several of the Horror Emporium actors trailed in after the Atwoods and sat with them—or near them, when they ran out of room on the pew. I saw the one who was afraid of dogs, the one who’d done a monologue from Hamlet . . . and Adalyn Daye. Adalyn wore a tasteful black suit and black flats. Her hair was held at the nape of her neck by a black ribbon. She appeared to be very quiet and reserved, especially in comparison with the Atwoods and the rest of their entourage.

  Todd came in, spotted us, and came to sit in the row in front of us. He turned to say a hushed hello.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” I whispered.

  “I’m glad you guys are here,” he said. “I feel really uncomfortable being at Keira’s funeral, but I felt like I should come.”

  Christine Willoughby walked in, her blue purse clutched to her chest. Her eyes darted right and left, and she went up the left side between the pews and the wall. She sat in a pew about a third of the way from the front.

  She looked miserable. I supposed she was here for Jared, but where was he? I kept thinking he’d join her any second, but he never did.

  • • •

  Manu, Reggie, Todd, Ted, and I had agreed to meet at the Brew Crew for a drink. Since Ted and Manu were driving, they had sodas. Reggie had a white wine. And, since I felt depressed, I had a decaffeinated coffee with Irish cream.

  “Where was Keira’s mom?” I asked to no one in particular.

  “She died when Keira and Bethany were young,” said Todd.

  “And Mr. Sherman never remarried?”

  He shook his head. “From what I hear, he keeps a few girlfriends on the string but didn’t want to risk his wealth by marrying again.”

  “What did you guys think of Bethany?” I asked.

  “The stunner sitting beside Ken Sherman?” Todd asked. “Wow. I’d heard about her from Keira, but she exceeded even Keira’s exaggerations.”

  I slapped Todd’s arm lightly.

  “Ouch! What was that for?”

  “Well, maybe if everybody didn’t feel like Bethany was so perfect, Keira would’ve gotten more attention and been a better, happier person.”

  “Everyone deals with sibling issues, dear,” said Reggie. “I have two sisters—one younger and one older. We had our differences growing up. Each of us thought another of us was our mother’s pet or our father’s favorite. We got over it. It’s what you do as you mature.”

  “What about you?” I asked Ted. “Did you and Tiffany have any issues growing up?”

  “Of course. We used to fight all the time. We didn’t stop until I went to college and we didn’t live in the same house anymore,” he said. “We don’t talk every day or anything like that, but we each know the other would be there if needed.”

  “I not only had to deal with siblings, but I had plenty of cousins to compete with,” said Manu. “We loved one another, we hated one another, but at the end of the day, we were family.”

  “That sounds great. I never had siblings or cousins,” I said. “But I never felt that I was missing out on anything. I just wish things had been different for Keira. Even standing there at her casket, her father was comparing her unfavorably to Bethany—and he was talking to me . . . a stranger!”

  “That is sad,” said Reggie. “But we can’t know what he’s feeling. Maybe he was talking that way to hide his grief.”

  “Maybe,” I said.

  I glanced at Ted and he shrugged.

  “I’m sorry I slapped your arm, Todd.” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “That’s all right. I’ll send you the bill for the X-ray.” He winked.

  “Christine looked so scared when she walked in,” I said. “I should’ve gone and sat with her, but I kept thinking Jared would join her.”

  “She did look frightened,” said Manu. “It took a lot of courage for her to come to that service, especially given the fact that she’s our primary suspect.”

  “Wonder why Jared didn’t join her?” Reggie asked. “He had been dating the girl, hadn’t he?”

  “Yes,” I said. “They were off and on, but still. . . .”

  “For his mother to come and the woman he’s currently dating to be there as well . . .” Ted frowned. “It looks suspicious that he didn’t show.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  I got up early Tuesday morning to prepare the guest room—that also doubled as my office—for my mom. I put fresh sheets on the bed, dusted, vacuumed, and put a small crystal bowl of foil-wrapped chocolates on the chest of drawers. I’d have put the chocolates on the nightstand, but I was afraid a certain curious dog would find them.

  Once the pillows were fluffed and lavender sachets put in the dresser drawers, Angus and I headed for the Seven-Year Stitch. I’d barely shrugged out of my jacket when Jared Willoughby came in. Surprisingly, he was dressed in khakis, a red knit sweater, and a navy blue sport coat.

  “Hey, Marcy, are you alone?” Jared asked as Angus loped over to say hello.

  “Not anymore.” I tried to force a smile, but the fact was that I didn’t want to be here alone with Jared. Not that I thought he was a killer . . . but deep down I was no longer so sure of his innocence.

  He ruffled Angus’s ears before going over to sit on the sofa. “Come talk with me for a minute. Please?”

  “Sure.” I placed my jacket on the counter and sat on one of the red club chairs near Jared.

  “I wanted to explain to you about Saturday,” he said. “About Adalyn. It probably looked bad for me to be out on a date when my ex-girlfriend was . . . you know. . . .”

  “Dead?”

  “Yeah. I guess it made me look callous. But I haven’t been seeing Adalyn for that long, and I didn’t want her to think I still had feelings for Keira.”

  “Is that why you didn’t come to Keira’s memorial service?” I asked.

  He bit his lip and he stared down at his clasped hands. “The truth is I do still have feelings for Keira. Or, I did. I don’t know. Either way, I simply couldn’
t bring myself to see her that way.” He sighed. “I’d told Mom I’d meet her there, but in the end, I just couldn’t do it.”

  “You know, Adalyn—and everyone else—would’ve understood if you’d come to the service and been upset. I mean, you and Keira were close.”

  “Yeah, I know. It was cowardly of me . . . especially to ditch Mom that way.” He stood. “I did go to Keira’s interment this morning. There weren’t very many people there for that. Well, I need to get home and change and get to the garage. I just wanted to explain.”

  “Of course. Well, have a good day.”

  “Thanks. You too.” He patted Angus’s head. “See ya, buddy!”

  As Jared left, I wondered why he’d felt it necessary to tell me why he’d been with Adalyn on Saturday and why he hadn’t been at the funeral the night before. Had he thought I’d report what he’d said back to Ted—which, of course, I would—to supply answers to questions the police might have? If that had been his intent, he might’ve raised more questions than he’d answered.

  I took my jacket and hung it up on the coatrack in the office. Angus went with me, knowing that’s where I kept his granola treats. I gave him one, and he hurried back into the shop to lie down by the front window to eat it. I retrieved my ribbon embroidery project—the second one—and returned to the sit-and-stitch square to get to work.

  I glanced up, and the sidewalk on both sides of the street appeared to be flooded with people. I quickly put my project under the counter and grabbed Angus’s leash. Tour bus.

  “Come on, baby,” I said to him. “Let’s get you into the bathroom.” I spotted his Kodiak bear lying near the hallway and snatched it up as I begged him to cooperate with me. I finally muscled him into the bathroom, unsnapped the leash, and tossed him the bear. With the final promise that I’d get him as soon as the tourists left, I pulled the door shut. He barked, whined, and scratched the door.

  I hated putting him in there, but I felt it best that he not be around that many tourists. Some were probably elderly, and I was afraid one might trip over Angus or that he’d accidentally knock someone down.

  People were already milling around the shop when I got back from the bathroom.

  “Welcome to the Seven-Year Stitch!” I called over the cacophony. “I’m Marcy. Sorry for all the noise. That’s my dog Angus—he should quiet down soon. Please let me know if you need help finding anything.”

  A middle-aged woman in a green shaker-knit sweater came up to the counter. “I was interested in the aromatherapy shop. Why is it closed?”

  I had no idea why it would be closed. Nellie should be fine now. “The owner took a spill last week. She must still be recovering.”

  “Oh.” The woman ambled away to halfheartedly look at yarn.

  Amid all the mayhem, Vera strolled into the Stitch. Her eyes widened as she came to join me behind the counter. “What in the world?”

  “It must be a tour group.”

  One of the tourists overheard me and smiled. “It is,” he said. “We’re touring small towns up and down the Pacific coast from Washington to California.”

  “How fun,” I said.

  “It has been. But between you and me, I’m about ready to get to California. We’re going to see a Giants game in Candlestick Park. That’s the only way my wife was able to talk me into this trip.”

  I laughed. “May I get you some coffee?”

  “Nah, I’m fine. That couch looks awfully comfy, though.”

  “Help yourself.”

  As the man wandered over to the sit-and-stitch square, I looked at Vera. “Would you like some coffee?”

  “And have you leave me here to man the counter by myself?” she asked. “No, thanks.”

  I lowered my voice. “Someone said Nellie’s shop is closed. Isn’t she well enough to be at work yet?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll find out. What time will your mom be here?”

  “She should be in late this afternoon. Her flight gets in about three o’clock, and she’s renting a car,” I said. “She doesn’t like being without wheels you know.”

  “I’ll see what I can learn about Nellie, and I’ll drop back in later.” She looked around at the crowd as more tourists poured through the door. “Good luck, kiddo.”

  • • •

  After the tourists left, I let Angus out of the bathroom. He gave me an accusing stare, and then got up, trotted past me, and went into the shop to sniff around and see what he’d missed. I began straightening bins of floss. The bells over the door jingled to let me know someone had arrived.

  “Be right with you!” I called.

  “Looks as if you could use a hand.”

  “Mom!” I hurried to the front of the shop and flung my arms around my mother. “I wasn’t expecting you until later!”

  “I got an earlier flight.” She laughed. After hugging me, she embraced Angus, who was dancing around us excitedly.

  I took her hand. “Let’s sit down.”

  “Not until after we’ve cleaned up. What happened?”

  “Tour bus.”

  “I hope you made lots of sales,” she said. “Especially with them leaving the shop like this.”

  “I did, Mom. In fact, I’ll need to go to the storeroom once I’ve seen what I need to restock.”

  “Great. I’ll help.”

  I started to protest but recognized that look on her face. “Would you mind straightening the books and making sure they’re all in their proper places?”

  “I can handle that.”

  “How was your flight?” I asked.

  She did her Bette Davis impression. “It was a bumpy ride.”

  I didn’t know whether or not the flight really was bumpy, but I was certainly glad she was here. “I’ve missed you.”

  “And I’ve missed you. Get to cleaning so we can catch up.”

  I returned to my floss bins, but called Ted as I worked.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

  “Hi. I’ve called to ask a favor.”

  “That’s funny because I was just getting ready to call and ask you for a favor.”

  “What’s your favor?” I asked.

  “You go first.”

  “I was going to ask you to bring an extra lunch. Mom got an earlier flight. Now you.”

  “Okay. I was going to ask to bring a couple of extra guests. My mom wants to bring Clover to visit Angus.”

  “Okay.” I drew out the word.

  “Are we good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. It’ll be great for our moms to get to know each other.”

  “I agree. See you in about forty-five minutes.”

  “See you then.” I wondered if Ted realized how nervous I was about our mothers meeting. Of course, he did. He didn’t get to be head detective on the basis of his striking good looks.

  I finished tidying the bins and making a note of what flosses needed to be replenished. As I went through to the stockroom, I saw that Mom had put straight anything she’d found askew including the candlewicked pillows on the sofa. Then she’d sat down on a red club chair, propped her feet on the ottoman and was petting Angus’s face while talking to him.

  “I called Ted and asked him to bring extra lunch,” I said. I went into the stockroom with my basket and gathered the necessary flosses. As I passed back by the sit-and-stitch square, I tossed over my shoulder, “And by the way, he’s bringing his mom too . . . and Clover. You remember Clover, the bunny? Angus loves her.”

  “Get back here.”

  Her voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned, innocent look firmly in place, basket on my arm, probably looking very fairy tale–like guileless, if I do say so myself.

  “Marcella, did you and Ted just decide to spring this meeting on me without giving me a chance to properly prepare?”

  “No, ma’am, we
did not. As I told you, I thought you’d be in on a later flight. And until talking with Ted moments ago, I had no idea his mother had planned on coming today,” I said. “So she’ll feel as ambushed as you do.”

  The idea of Veronica Nash ever feeling ambushed struck me as preposterous. Then again, I couldn’t imagine Mom ever feeling that way either.

  “I will admit to ambushing you—for lack of a better word—with the whole actor thing,” I continued. “But I wanted you and Veronica to meet under more ideal circumstances—dinner at an elegant restaurant when you were both looking forward to it.”

  “Ah, well, maybe this way is best,” Mom said. “And I’m looking forward to seeing Angus and his bunny friend playing together.”

  “Yeah! It’ll be great!” I wished I felt as confident as I sounded.

  • • •

  Ted, Veronica, and Clover arrived at a quarter past one. Mom was in the bathroom “freshening up”—making sure she looked perfect despite having been traveling since five a.m.

  I hugged Veronica, gave Ted a quick kiss, and placed the clock on the door saying I would be back in a half hour, even though we were going to be sitting in the sit-and-stitch square, the door would be unlocked, and customers would see that I hadn’t gone anywhere. But that was okay. I thought I might welcome an interruption at some point during this meal.

  Veronica wore a blue silk pantsuit that matched her eyes almost perfectly and carried Clover in a white-and-navy-striped tote. Veronica’s silvery gray hair was cut in a stylish angular bob, and she wore taupe pumps.

  Angus didn’t approach Veronica, but he loped up and leaned his head against Ted. The dog stretched his neck in the direction of Veronica’s tote and sniffed.

  “Yes, your friend is in here,” said Veronica. “Would you like to play?” She sat the tote on the sofa—Ted had placed our food on the maple coffee table—and gently took the large brown and white bunny out and sat her on the floor.

  Clover went to Angus, stood up on her hind legs and waited for him to lower his head to hers.

  “How precious!”

  The three of us turned to Mom, who’d emerged from the bathroom looking as if she’d just stepped out of the hair and makeup trailer. She’d changed into a black jersey dress and black pumps and had pulled her hair into a chignon at the nape of her neck.