Purls and Poison

by Anne Canadeo

  His confession was a great consolation to her. “So, you will move in? Very soon, I hope,” she said.

  He put his arms around her and smiled. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. You know, we’re not kids, Maggie. I’m not sure I feel comfortable with this living together routine.”

  He had not said that before, but Maggie wasn’t surprised. He was so traditional.

  “All right. I understand. I’m just happy that . . . well, that we’ve made up. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too. A lot. But you still don’t understand me. Why just live together? I think we should get married.”

  Maggie was shocked. She felt Charles hold her tighter as her knees went weak for a moment. She leaned back and stared up at him.

  “I thought you came in here to break up with me . . . and now you want to get married? Was that really a proposal, Charles?”

  He laughed, a deep warm sound that she’d been aching to hear. “All right, I can do better.” He cupped her face with his hands, then stepped back. “I never thought I’d find love again. Then I met you, right in this shop, and I can’t imagine my life without you. Will you please marry me and spend the rest of our days together?”

  Maggie felt breathless as Charles took her in his arms again. She smiled into his eyes. “I love you, Charles. I’d be thrilled to be your wife.”

  Before she could say more, Charles kissed her, holding her tight. A long, aching kiss that made up for everything and more.

  When they finally parted, she felt almost light-headed.

  “Are you happy?” he asked quietly.

  “Overjoyed. But it is a lot all at once,” she admitted.

  “How about a long engagement? Would you live together then?” she asked quietly.

  He laughed and hugged her close. “All right, I’ll take engaged. I knew you’d have a counteroffer.”

  Maggie smiled, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. He did know her well by now, didn’t he? And loved her, quirks and all.

  * * *

  Her friends wanted to meet her at the Schooner for breakfast Sunday morning, but Suzanne invited them to her house for a brunch and a debrief of her narrow escape from Claire Prentiss. In the custody of the police, Claire had confessed quickly to Liza’s murder, and how she had framed Suzanne.

  Helen Forbes had filled in some of the details, and Suzanne hoped Maggie had heard more from Charles by now. Were they talking again? She certainly hoped so.

  As a golden quiche bubbled in the oven and a green salad, with pears, cranberries, and walnuts, chilled in the fridge, Suzanne blended a special cocktail for the celebration.

  There were hugs all around when her friends arrived and they soon settled at the large island in Suzanne’s kitchen.

  “Back in your element, I see. I can’t believe with what you went through Friday night, you still cooked this beautiful meal for us.” Dana smiled as Suzanne served her some herbal tea, though she’d made strong coffee for everyone else.

  “Oh, it’s not that much. Just some quiche and salad. And bloody Mary’s, of course.” She tipped her own glass in the air, a silent toast to her pals, and took a sip. “Happy to be here, free and clear. I was secretly consoling myself with the thought that even Martha Stewart did some jail time.”

  “We knew it would never come to that,” Phoebe insisted. “But how did you ever figure out that Claire Prentiss really did it? Did you know before she cornered you?”

  Suzanne had taken out the salad and spooned portions onto the chilled plates as her friends passed them around. “It came to me while I was driving on the Beach Road. Something Harry said triggered the idea. I’m not sure now. I just realized that even though he’s Emma’s father, it didn’t sound as if he planned to fight for full custody, now that Liza is gone. But Claire has such an obvious baby hunger and had never recovered from losing their daughter. I remembered the way she was hovering over Emma at the memorial service. She wanted that little girl for her own so badly. She said as much to me, too.”

  “Really?” Phoebe had taken a bite of salad and munched quietly. “What did she say exactly?”

  “Something like, she would be the perfect mother for Emma. She would turn her into a genius, a prodigy, and even Liza couldn’t have loved her more than she would.”

  “How sad,” Maggie said. “She does sound as if she was living in some altered state of reality.”

  “I’m guessing her attorney will use her mental state to lower the charges,” Dana said.

  Suzanne had sliced the two quiches and started serving her friends. Maggie held her dish out for the broccoli and cheddar combination. “That’s what Charles said, too.”

  “You’re speaking to Charles again? You’ve worked things out? Kissed and made up?” Suzanne teased, as she served Maggie.

  Maggie met her gaze, then looked down at her quiche. “You could say that. I’ll tell you all about it, later. He did tell me more about Claire Prentiss and how she framed you.”

  “I’d like to hear that.” Lucy held her dish out for some of the mushroom, bacon, and onion pie.

  “It was very much as we guessed. She knew that you and Liza both drank the same diet shake and knew about Liza’s allergy. And that you had been at the Botox party, Suzanne. She took a bottle from your package of shakes, used a syringe to add the drug, and relabeled it with Liza’s initials.” Maggie sipped her bloody Mary. “She didn’t know that the mixture would break down, but Liza did drink it within twenty-four hours of her planting it in the office fridge.”

  “When was that?” Suzanne asked, serving herself a sliver from each quiche since she couldn’t decide.

  “She’d come to the office a few nights earlier and moved the files, using the computer in Harry’s office. She planted the drink during the staff meeting. She had the perfect cover, with the excuse of dropping off Harry’s tuxedo for the fund-raiser that night.”

  “While Liza and Suzanne were having a screaming match in the meeting, she was setting the stage for Liza’s murder. With Suzanne framed as the killer?” Lucy asked.

  “Exactly. The argument in the meeting was again, a lucky break for her. She planted the vials in the Gertwigs’ trash a few days later,” Maggie added. “She told Charles and his partner that she had nothing personal against you, Suzanne. But Harry had often told her how you and Liza were always fighting over your sales turf. I think she did cancel the office cleaners, hoping Liza would work past five, to make up for such a long meeting that afternoon. But even if Liza ingested the drink on Friday, it would have had the same effect.”

  “I heard that from Helen, too.” Suzanne wasn’t sure if she liked the mushroom or broccoli quiche better. Both had come out pretty good, she thought. “And that Liza didn’t carry an EpiPen, because this was her only, very strange, allergy and one she thought totally avoidable. Even if people were around when she had the attack, it’s very likely she would have died before help came.”

  Maggie nodded. She looked a little teary eyed. Suzanne realized it wasn’t just sadness over Liza’s death again, but the effect of the spicy cocktail. “May I have some ice water?” Maggie asked. “That drink is a bit much for me.”

  “I did fix some. It’s in the fridge.” Suzanne quickly fetched the pitcher with ice water and lemon slices. She filled Maggie’s tall water glass and noticed her other friends quickly filled their glasses, too.

  “Sorry, guys. But I had to celebrate with the cocktail that saved me. If not for sriracha sauce, I would not be here to tell the tale.”

  “A brilliant strategy. It would never have occurred to me.” Dana lifted her glass of ice water to honor Suzanne, before she took a sip.

  “It was an inspired solution. And a horrifying scene when I got there. Just for a minute or two,” Lucy confessed. “Did Claire tell you when she found out about the affair and that Emma was Harry’s child?”

  Suzanne shrugged. “I guess I could have asked. But it seemed a better idea to throw a wok at her head and make a
run for it.”

  “That was quick thinking, too,” Phoebe noted. “I would have been paralyzed with fear.”

  Suzanne smiled at her. “I wasn’t exactly a cool superagent, Phoebe. You never know how you’ll react under that kind of pressure.”

  “I did hear from Charles that Claire knew about the affair years ago, and knew about Emma soon after Liza returned to town,” Maggie said, answering Lucy’s questions. “Harry’s philandering had killed her love for him, but she believed he could at least get custody of Emma. Especially if Liza was out of the way. She felt he owed her that, to make up for his failings in their marriage. And because he knew how heartbroken she was, losing their own child. But she had Harry believing that she was totally oblivious while she figured out how to get rid of Liza.”

  Dana helped herself to another small bite of quiche. Suzanne felt gratified to see that; Dana so rarely had seconds of anything. Even celery sticks.

  “It was a diabolical plan,” Dana said. “But some part of me feels sorry for a woman who was so twisted with pain.”

  “I agree.” Lucy nodded. “I wonder what Ruth and Kira thought when they heard Claire was arrested. Have you been in touch with her at all, Maggie?”

  Maggie nodded and set down her glass. She’d drained the water and left only tinkly ice cubes. Suzanne felt sorry now she’d made the drink so spicy. “I don’t know about Kira, but Ruth called the shop yesterday. She was relieved to see that Liza’s killer was finally apprehended, and that your name was cleared, Suzanne. And proud that she’d helped by giving us that key. She gave all of us credit for being so persistent and sticking by you.”

  “You sure did. You guys . . .” Suzanne glanced around at her friends, suddenly too emotional to speak, to find the words to express her gratitude.

  “Now, now . . . don’t get all weepy. You’ll make us start, too. This is a celebration, right?” Maggie patted her hand. “Of course we stuck by you.”

  “We’d do it again in a heartbeat. Though you have the credit for figuring out that it was Claire,” Dana reminded her. “And that Emma was Liza’s child. Do you think Ruth knew?” she asked Maggie. “Did she say?”

  “I wondered about that, too,” Suzanne said. Her friends had finished their first course and Suzanne brought over the coffee carafe and a dish of French pastries Lucy had picked up at the bakery—mini eclairs, cream puffs, and Napoleons.

  “Ruth told me she did not know all this time. The sisters kept it from her.” Maggie fixed her coffee with milk and one sugar. “After Liza moved to Maine, when she was about three or four months pregnant, Ruth guessed, her daughters would switch identities every time they were with her. So that Ruth thought Kira was expecting. Pregnant by accident with a man she didn’t really care for, but still wanted the baby. Kira just told her the truth and how they’d tricked her Friday night. After Claire was arrested.”

  “That must have been a shock.” Lucy nibbled on an eclair.

  “I’m not so sure of that,” Maggie replied. “Ruth said she was surprised at first. But later realized she had suspected it all along, but suppressed the idea. It just seemed too far-fetched, and her daughters were wonderful at acting out their roles of mother and doting aunt whenever the four of them were together.” Maggie selected a Napoleon from the platter and set it on her dessert plate. “Ruth said she’d like to come to the shop and knit with us sometime soon, while we’re still making the baby sweaters.”

  “That would be wonderful. She has a very strong spirit, doesn’t she?” Dana said.

  “Yes, indeed. She does.” Maggie glanced at Suzanne, but didn’t say more.

  “So did her daughter, Liza.” When Suzanne said the words out loud, she felt better, somehow, relieved of some burden she’d been carrying. “She was not the conniving, cold-hearted person I thought, not by a long shot. She was competitive and assertive, that’s for sure. And a very sharp salesperson. But much more than that. I wasn’t fair to her. I can see that now.”

  Maggie looked the most surprised by her speech, but quietly pleased, Suzanne thought. She met Maggie’s glance. “I’m just curious to know why Charles was so forthcoming with all the nitty-gritty info about his case. He’s usually so closemouthed. Did you slip some truth serum in your meatballs and tomato sauce Saturday night?”

  Maggie laughed. “We went out for dinner Saturday. But I suppose the wine got him talking, and also, maybe he doesn’t feel quite so invested. Charles has decided to retire,” she announced.

  Suzanne was surprised to hear that. “Wow, that’s big. Did this case push him over the edge? Or maybe all of our meddling in his work finally drove him out of the police force?”

  Suzanne had been joking and was surprised to see Maggie nod in reply.

  “You might say that. My meddling, in particular,” she added. “It wasn’t the only reason, but he decided that we were going around in circles, always arguing about the same thing, and if he retired, we could move to the next level.”

  “The next level? That sounds promising.” Phoebe was on her second cream puff, but paused to stare at Maggie. “Come on, tell us more.”

  Suzanne could see the color rise in Maggie’s cheeks. How rare was that? She had a sudden intuition Maggie had news to share. “Are you two finally moving in together? Is that the plan?”

  Maggie sat back and smiled. “Yes, we’ve made plans. We are moving in together. Charles has asked me to marry him, and I’ve accepted.”

  Suzanne was so surprised, she nearly fell off her chair. She steadied herself while her friends gasped and laughed. They hugged and congratulated Maggie.

  “How did that happen? I thought you were on the verge of breaking up,” Lucy managed between her happy laughter.

  “So did I. Especially when he stopped by Friday night with such a serious look on his face. I said, ‘Oh no. This is it.’ ”

  “And it was. But not the ‘it’ you expected,” Dana teased her.

  “No . . . not in the least.” Maggie smiled in a certain way that made Suzanne sigh. She looked so happy and very much in love.

  “Another wedding, and so soon,” Lucy said eagerly. “Did you talk about a date?”

  Maggie’s contented expression quickly melted. “We’ll get to that. Eventually. I’m fine being engaged a while.”

  “No rush,” Dana said. “Every couple needs to do these things at their own pace.”

  Dana and Phoebe had already taken out their knitting. Suzanne saw Maggie and Lucy were about to do the same.

  “I agree, no rush,” Suzanne said. “It’s a big step.”

  “Yes, it is,” Maggie said, slipping a strand of yarn around a slim needle to start a new row. “You know me. I like to look before I leap.”

  “We do know that about you, Mag. It’s okay. All sheep do,” Suzanne teased.

  Suzanne and her friends laughed while Maggie looked flustered a moment. Then she smiled and continued knitting. “Very true,” she said. “We do.”

  From the Black Sheep & Company Bulletin Board

  Dear Knitting Friends,

  I want to thank everyone who contributed to our donation of hand knit outwear for children in need. These beautiful garments will keep so many babies and toddlers warm this winter–extra warm, because they were made with love. My knitting group’s ambitious goal was one hundred items, but with the help of such generous customers, and garments made by Ruth Devereaux and her late daughter, Liza, we sent a donation that nearly doubled that number. To paraphrase the famous anthropologist Margaret Mead, never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed knitters can change the world.

  As many of you know, the donation was made in honor of Liza Devereaux, and sent to one of her favorite charities. Liza was a frequent and favorite customer at this shop. We shall miss her and hold her dear in memory.

  If you missed the fun, it’s certainly not too late to knit and donate. Here’s a link to a great collection of over 18 patterns for babies and toddlers, all designed in the simple and speedy garter sti
tch. From booties and blankets, to hooded sweaters and cuddly toys, most of the patterns are free. Maybe baby clothes just aren’t your thing? There are so many charities looking for volunteer knitters and all kinds of knitted creations. I’ve also posted a link below to a list of ten such organizations.

  The main thing is, let’s share the joy of knitting!

  Maggie

  intheloopknitting.com/garter-stitch-little-one-knitting-patterns/

  http://mentalfloss.com/article/73330/10-charities-looking-yarn-crafters

  Hi Everyone!

  I know you’ve all been gossiping about me. It’s okay, I get it. How often is someone you know personally accused of murder? Frankly, if the designer shoe had been on the other foot, I’d have done the same.

  If you haven’t heard by now, I’m totally and completely, without a doubt, innocent. I even apprehended the real culprit–poor, deranged soul. Yes, she was pointing a loaded gun at me. But I was armed with a high-speed blender. No match, apparently.

  I learned my lesson. From here on in, I will do my best to keep a lid on my temper and zip up my lip. And not to judge people so harshly, even if I don’t get along with them. Nobody’s perfect, including yours truly, and you never really know what other people are going through. I certainly didn’t have a clue about Liza Devereaux.

  Enough pearls of wisdom. Or should I say, “purls”? Time to share the recipe for my famous Celebration Chocolate Cake with Coconut Icing, which looks as good as it tastes. I certainly have a lot to celebrate. Things are looking up without a murder trial on my calendar.