“Good idea,” Cora said, wishing that Jane had never mentioned that they had a friend in jail. What was wrong with her? Didn’t she see that they needed to keep the mood light? These women were here to have fun and for a much-needed break. Cora, Jane, and Ruby would give these ladies a relaxing retreat, no matter what.
Chapter 20
“One of the things I love about this craft is that we are reusing paper,” Cora said to the class after they were situated. “Instead of throwing it away or even recycling it, we’re giving it a new life. A lovely and useful life.”
“What a charming sentiment,” Vera said, and sighed.
At least Vera seemed to be enjoying herself, Cora mused. Her friend Annie was much more reticent. Maybe that was just her personality.
“You can make these beads out of any paper. We’ve got scrapbooking paper here, along with wrapping paper, newsprint, magazines, and used coloring books,” Cora said.
“Courtesy of London, my daughter,” Jane spoke up.
“Can you do this with old books?” Roni asked.
“Yes, sure. If you can part with them,” Cora replied. “Now, we’ve cut a lot of the paper for you, and as you can see, we’re working with a long and skinny triangle. We’ve left one page of scrapbooking paper at each of your places, so you can practice making and cutting the paper with a template. It’s important that the pieces are uniform. The beads will look much better and will be easier to work with.”
“If I could cut a straight line, I’d be a happy woman!” Ruby said.
“Okay, let’s not get caught up in perfection. Just try a couple, if you want, and move on. We want you to have a good time and make something pretty. We don’t want to frustrate you. I just thought it was important to see the project from beginning to end,” Cora said.
“Besides, Ruby, nobody can cut a straight line. That’s why we have rulers and templates!” Jane said, teasing.
Ruby ignored her and went back to drawing her triangles on the paper.
After the crafters sketched several triangles and cut a few out, Cora went on with her instructions.
“So the next part is easy,” Cora said, holding up her kebab skewer. “Some of you have straws, and some have kebab skewers. You’re going to use this to roll your triangles. Start at the bottom wide part of your triangle. Keep it taut. Take your time. When you get to the thin end of the strip, you’ll want to dab glue there. This helps keep your bead spiral in place.”
“This is easier than I thought it would be,” Vera said. “And you can see how pretty the beads will be.”
“When you’re done rolling them, paint a layer of Mod Podge over it, please. Then stick the opposite end of your skewers into the Styrofoam block until it dries.”
“It’s that easy?” Annie said. “I had no idea. I’ve got loads of paper I could use for this. I’ve gone almost completely digital in my scrapbooking and have tons of paper. I don’t want to throw it away.”
“Heavens, no. It’s so expensive,” Vera said. “You need to do something with it.”
“Glad you found something to do with your old scrapbooking paper,” Cora said.
“I’ve been using some old scrapbook paper on my artist trading cards,” Jane said.
“Good idea,” Cora said.
“What’s that? What are artist trading cards?” Lisa asked.
“They are the size of playing or trading cards, and basically, decorated and embellished. You can just make them for yourself or as gifts, but the idea behind them started as a way for artists to get to know one another. We send each other the cards through the mail,” Jane said.
“Fun!” Lisa said.
“Imagine getting mail, instead of e-mail,” Annie said. “I like it.”
The women chattered among themselves as they rolled and glued.
“Paper bead–making would be fun with kids,” Roni said.
“London loves it,” Jane added.
“Elizabeth is not a crafty kid. I don’t know if I could get her to sit still long enough to make beads,” Vera said.
“My boys wouldn’t go for it at all!” Annie said, laughing.
“My son loved to craft,” Ruby said. “When he was a boy, my Cashel was super creative.”
“That’s interesting. I had no idea,” Jane said.
“Now he’s a lawyer,” Ruby said. “And a damned good one. I always thought he’d be an artist. Just goes to show you never know what your kid will end up doing. They happen to be their own little people, who grow into their own big people.”
“That’s the truth. We only get so much input,” Roni said.
“Say, is your son Cashel O’Malley?” Annie said. “The lawyer representing the accused killer?”
The room quieted as Ruby glanced up at Annie.
“Oh, for God’s sake, Annie. You are just way too blunt. Sorry,” Vera said. “She used to be a reporter. I’m afraid she’s never gotten over it!”
The group laughed away the tension.
“Why, yes. To answer your question, Cashel O’Malley is my son,” Ruby said, beaming.
“Sounds like he’s got his work cut out for him,” Annie said, sticking another skewer in her Styrofoam block.
“He always does,” Jane said. “What a lovely bead, Annie!”
“Thanks,” she said. “I used the magazine paper. I like the letters and words on the paper.”
“Fancy that,” Vera said, and poked her.
“That poor woman,” Lisa said after a few beats.
“Who?” Vera replied.
Lisa glanced up from her paper rolling. “The accused woman,” she said.
“You don’t think she did it?” Jo asked. One of the quieter crafters, she perked up during this conversation.
“We were talking about it earlier,” Vicki said. “We don’t think they have enough evidence against her.”
“They don’t,” Ruby said. “I’m sure they will be letting her go soon.”
Jane and Cora exchanged glances of worry. Try as they might, it seemed the conversation was still turning toward the murder.
“If she didn’t kill him, then who did?” Lena asked. She’d been quietly working until that moment. A line of skewers with colorful oblong paper beads sat in front of her.
Once again, the room quieted.
“I always find that’s a question best left to the lawyers and the police,” Cora said. “Now, can I get anybody anything? Water? Tea? Coffee?”
“How about a margarita?” Lena said. “Or is it too early in the day?”
“Maybe,” Cora replied, and smiled. “It’s certainly not too early for a Bloody Mary.”
Jane brightened. “Cora has this new fantastic recipe for a Bloody Mary. Who wants one? I’m happy to make a pitcher.”
While the crafters took a Bloody Mary break, and some wandered off to explore the town, Cora checked her text messages. Cashel sent her one informing her of the visiting hours for Zee today. Ruby’s class didn’t start for several hours, so Cora had plenty of free time. She and Jane sat at the kitchen table.
She showed Jane her phone. “Do you want to go with me?”
“Certainly. After I finish this delicious drink.” She downed it. The scent of spicy Bloody Marys filled the room.
“Let’s go,” Cora said.
“We better tell Ruby,” Jane said. “She loves holding the fort down.”
“Do you mind if Jane and I step out?” Cora said, as they walked into the living room. “We’re off to see Zee.”
“I don’t mind at all, just as long as you report back to me,” Ruby said.
“Absolutely!” Cora replied.
She and Jane stepped out of Kildare House into the fresh air. Cora hadn’t realized how stuffy it was in the house.
The two of them walked down the street toward the police station, which they always joked was the “prettiest police station on the planet,” because it fit right in the quaint historic town façades. Painted a charming shade of eggplant, it was barely reco
gnizable as a police station. Even inside, it was well-appointed. It wasn’t until entering the actual offices and jail that it resembled an official government establishment.
“We’re here to visit Zora Mancini,” Jane said, marching right up to the receptionist.
She glanced up at them from beneath heavy glasses. “Leave your bags here, ladies.” She turned around to the busy office behind her. “Can I get an escort for these two to see Zora?”
“Sure thing,” said a female police officer who stepped forward. Cora hadn’t seen her before. Then she checked herself: She didn’t know every police officer in Indigo Gap, and that was probably a good thing.
“Follow me, ladies,” the officer said, and opened the door. Jane and Cora walked through it, following her down a snaking corridor into a room with a table and chairs. “We’re not a high-security prison,” the officer said. “Visitations go on in this room. No Plexiglas needed. I’ll be standing right beside the door, along with the officer who brings her to you.”
“Thank you,” Jane said.
A laid-back visit sounded good to Cora.
They took a seat and waited for Zee.
The heavy metallic door creaked open, as another officer escorted a small-looking, haggard Zee. Cora’s stomach tightened and the officer guided Zee to her chair.
Cora studied Zee. She was not handling this well at all and resembled a broken doll—hair unbrushed, no makeup, haunted eyes.
“Thanks for coming,” Zee said.
Cora reached out and touched her hand. “Of course.”
“No touching,” one of the officers yipped.
All three of them jumped.
“Okay, sorry,” Cora said, pulling a face.
“How are you?” Jane asked. “When are they going to free you?”
“I’m not good at all, but it could be worse, I suppose,” Zee said. “I could be in the state prison, or something, which I hear is hideous.” Her eyes darted back and forth between Jane and Cora. “To answer your question, I have no idea when they will spring me. They think I killed Stan.” Her voice cracked. “I’d never hurt anybody. You believe me, right?”
“Yes,” Cora said. “Can you tell us what happened?”
“Why do they think you killed him?” Jane asked at almost the same time.
“Well.” Zee drew in a breath. “I admit. It looks like I offed him. That’s what’s so scary.”
Cora and Jane sat and motioned for her to go on. Sweat formed on Cora’s forehead. She hated this situation. She’d been in more jails, talked with more women in trouble than most people had. Still, she never felt comfortable.
“I was at the theater, checking on a few things, and heard a strange noise. Like a thump, you know? And then I heard kind of like a cry or a sob.”
“And?” Jane said.
“So I followed the noise,” she said. “It was coming from backstage. I thought maybe it was an animal that’d gotten inside or something. Instead, I saw Stan lying there, making this awful noise.”
“He was still alive?” Cora said.
“Barely,” Zee said, as the color drained from her face. “There was a bit of blood and a knife sticking out of him. And his eyes ... they pleaded with me for help. I didn’t know what to do. I panicked, I guess. I should have just called the police.”
“What did you do?” Cora asked.
“I tried to yank the damned knife out,” Zee said. “And then, I don’t remember a thing after that. I suppose I passed out. One of the crew found us lying there together. Me with my hand on the knife, covered in his blood.”
The three women sat in silence for a few moments. Cora envisioned the whole thing, thinking she might do the same thing herself if she happened on a stabbing victim.
“You have to believe me.”
“Absolutely,” Cora said, wondering how Stan got from the alley to the stage and what kind of condition he was in between the places.
“Was there anybody else around?” Jane asked. She was always levelheaded, noted Cora.
“Not that I observed,” Zee replied. “I heard voices from time to time and some shuffling noises. I assumed it was members of the crew with last-minute prep for the show.”
Cora’s thoughts raced. “Who found you?”
“As I understand, it was Ralph. You know, the lighting guy?”
“You don’t remember anything after you tried to yank out the knife?” Cora asked.
“I passed out. My fingerprints are everywhere, you know? What am I going to do?”
“Well, there’s not much you can do where you are,” Jane said. “Cashel is an excellent attorney. He’ll get you out soon.”
“Yes, but the judge isn’t making it any easier,” she said. “These damn judges can do what they want.”
“Judges have a lot of power. But they can’t do whatever they like. They have to follow the rule of law,” Cora said soothingly. “He can make it hard for you. But he can’t convict you if you’re innocent.”
“I wish I could believe that!” Zee’s eyes watered. She held a tissue to her nose and blew. “I didn’t part on the best of terms with my ex-husband, who’s his best friend.”
“Five more minutes!” the cop at the door said, once again startling all three women.
“We’ll see what we can do,” Cora said.
“What do you mean?” Jane asked.
“There’s no harm in us trying to figure out what happened to get our friend out of jail,” Cora said.
“Now, ladies, do be careful. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt,” Zee said.
“Or messing up her case!” Jane said. “Cora!”
“Okay,” Cora said after a few seconds. “I just want to talk with Ralph. And maybe the judge.”
“Oh no!” Zee said. “I wouldn’t talk to the judge.”
“Why?”
“He’s unpleasant, and he won’t talk with you about any case he’s working. He’s very professional.”
“He can’t be that professional if he’s keeping you here because of your past with your ex,” Jane muttered.
“I’m afraid my ex is still furious and hurt ... he’s acting out. I warn you, ladies, he’s not a guy to be trifled with,” Zee said.
“Just what exactly happened between you and your ex?” Cora asked.
Zee grimaced. “That, my dear, is a story for another time.”
But Cora wasn’t so certain.
Chapter 21
Several of the crafters opted not to take Ruby’s rose bead class, citing allergies or sensitivities to the scent. After Cora and Jane returned from the jailhouse visit, they were surprised to find a group of women in the paper arts room. Annie was there with Vicki and Lisa. Others were in the craft room, waiting for class to start.
The scent of roses was almost too much. Cora’s nose tickled. She loved rose beads and wanted to learn how to make them. She sat down at the craft table.
“You know, I inherited some jewelry,” Vera said. “None of it was worth anything, but it sure is pretty. There were these beads . . . slate blue and just lovely, so delicate looking. My mom examined them and scratched at them, sniffed them. I thought she was nuts. Then she held them up to my nose. They are old rose beads!”
“They’ve been popular at different times throughout history,” Ruby said. “You don’t see them anymore except at craft shows.”
“I wonder why that is,” Vera said.
“I think it has to do with the time it takes to make them,” Ruby said. “And you need a lot of rose petals, say half a shopping bag, to make a small necklace. We’ll just be making a few beads today. I thought it would be fun to learn.”
Lena and Roni entered the room and sat down across from Vera, Jane, and Cora.
“We’ve provided you each with a couple of handfuls of rose petals. Just so you know, if you were making these from roses, the first step would be to pluck and then clean them,” Ruby said. “You’d place them in a colander one handful at a time and rinse them with cool running water,
and set them in your pot.”
“It’s a time-consuming process,” Roni said.
“Indeed,” Ruby replied. “Now I have this hot plate here and a pot on top of it. You see, I have a couple of pots here and a food processor. Back when they began making these beads, they didn’t have the luxury of a food processor, which as you’ve noted, Roni, adds to the amount of time you’d need to make these. Speaking of which ... there will be plenty of breaks for this. Feel free to go off and get drinks or food or whatever.”
Cora couldn’t have eaten a thing. Her stomach churned with worry. The visit with Zee hadn’t calmed her nerves about the situation at all. In fact, she was even more confused. If Stan was attacked in the alley and made his way to the theater—at least three blocks away—that was a pretty amazing feat. Someone would have had to see him, all bloody, with a knife sticking out from his chest, and hobbling around, wouldn’t they?
“So, everybody put your rose petals in here,” Ruby said, holding a pot out and collecting rose petals. “I’ll pour just enough water in here to cover them.”
Cora snapped a photo of the pink petals floating in the water. The bright pink against the black pot, with reflections on the water that might make some great pictures for the blog.
“When the water boils, I’ll turn the heat down and simmer for about eight minutes,” Ruby said. “Simmering helps to weaken the cellulose in the petals. This process gives you a nice, smooth paste for forming into beads. Then we’ll need to cool them to room temperature. As I said, there will be plenty of breaks for this class.”
“Where can I get more Bloody Marys?” Judy, the silversmith, spoke up.
“Oh, that sounds great!” Vera said.
Others in the room murmured in agreement.
“I’ll make a pitcher,” Jane said, standing.
“Sounds great!” Cora replied, maybe sounding a little too enthusiastic, trying to keep the mood as light as possible, which completely belied what she was feeling. Dread. Someone murdered Stan. The police had the wrong person behind bars. A killer was loose in Indigo Gap.
Cora stood and went over to Ruby and her brewing pot of rose petals. She snapped a few pictures.
“How did your visit go?” Ruby said in a lowered voice.
Assault and Beadery Page 8
