Till Death Do Us Purl (21 page)

H
ere we are. It’s that dark blue
house on the right.” Maggie pointed to Nora’s house and Dana pulled up to the curb right in front.

“Thanks for coming, Dana. I always seem to be visiting here under such difficult circumstances.” Maggie sighed and opened the back door of the car to retrieve the garment bag that held the wedding gown and two shopping bags full of yarn she wanted to give Rebecca.

Dana came around and grabbed the other bag, which was filled with needles, a tape measure, rubber needle tips, and assorted necessary items. She shut the car and locked it.

“You’re a good friend, Maggie, and very generous. But everyone knows that.”

Dana’s compliment was a comfort. But Maggie still felt she wasn’t bringing Rebecca nearly enough yarn, or doing enough for the girl. And Nora. Their trials and tribulations were reaching biblical proportions. What would be next?

Nora greeted them at
the door before they even had a chance to ring the bell. She must have been watching out the window.

“Here’s the gown. Safe and sound.” Maggie handed over the garment bag first.

“Rebecca will be happy to see this.” As Nora hung the bag on a coat tree in the foyer, Rebecca came down the stairway to greet them.

“Maggie brought your gown back. It’s a good thing she had it in her shop.”

“Thank you, Maggie. I would have come by and picked it up.”

“No problem. I wanted to stop in and say hello anyway. And bring this other stuff over,” she added. “It’s just some extra yarn and things I thought you could use. I felt so bad when I heard that your equipment and your yarn were stolen.”

“Oh, wow . . . look at all this.” Rebecca crouched down to examine the gift closer. “Maggie . . . you didn’t have to do that. There’s a ton of yarn here. Let me pay you something. Please?”

Rebecca was a rich woman now. Maggie had forgotten. “Oh, don’t be silly. It’s a gift. I have so much stock sitting around the storeroom. I’ll never miss it. I’m happy to see it go to someone who will really use it.”

Nora had led them into the living room, where Dana and Maggie took seats side by side on the couch. Rebecca sat in an armchair nearby. Nora remained standing. Hovering a bit, in her usual way, Maggie noticed.

“Have the police told you anything more about the break-in?” Dana asked. “Anything they found when they searched afterward?”

Rebecca shook her head.
“No, nothing so far. The same detective working on Jeremy’s case was called in. Detective Marisol Reyes. She seems very competent. Very intelligent, too,” Rebecca added.

Dana and Maggie exchanged looks. Detective Reyes had been one of the officers who had investigated the death of her old rival Amanda Goran, and also took part in the case when Gloria Sterling died.

“We’ve met Detective Reyes. She is very competent. Sounds like she’s been promoted, too,” Maggie said.

“They sealed the apartment and Rebecca wasn’t allowed back in. She’s staying with me a few days,” Nora added. “I didn’t want her to stay there alone right now anyway. Who knows? It could be dangerous. That awful person could come back.”

Maggie heard a lot of fear in Nora’s voice. Anyone would feel the same, she thought.

“It was really . . . creepy,” Rebecca admitted. “The place was totally trashed. I don’t know how I’m going to clean it up.”

“We’ll get it back together, sweetheart. Don’t even worry about that now. One thing at a time.” Nora patted her daughter’s shoulder. “I don’t think the police have even finished sifting through, looking for clues about who did it, or why.”

“But they’re pretty sure it wasn’t a random break-in,” Rebecca added. “They said it could have to do with Jeremy’s work. His research on the formula. I guess the person who broke in didn’t know Jeremy very well. He didn’t even have a home office. He kept everything on his laptop, and they found that in the fire . . . Unless he hid something from me. Which is definitely possible,” she admitted sadly.

“That’s what we were thinking,
too,” Maggie said.

“I suppose this helps take pressure off of you, as a suspect in the case,” Dana added.

“I hope so,” Rebecca agreed. “But my lawyer said we still need to be concerned. The police could see these situations separately—the search for Jeremy’s notes and his murder might not be connected at all.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Dana agreed quietly.

“It is odd that they took yarn and the knitting tools,” Maggie said after a moment. “Do the police have any theories about that?”

“They asked me a lot of questions about that. If Jeremy had access to my knitting supplies. Did I ever notice him going through it. They seem to think he may have hidden something there.” Rebecca appeared amused by that idea.

“You don’t think that’s possible?” Dana asked.

Rebecca shook her head. “I had just bought most of that yarn for the after-school program. I didn’t open the boxes until after the fire at the lab. Until Jeremy was . . . was gone.” She faltered over the last few words but seemed to calm herself quickly. “The big plastic tote with my knitting tools had been over at school until a few days ago. I was using all those things for the program there, too.”

“Which means that Jeremy didn’t have a chance to hide anything in the yarn or in those plastic storage totes,” Dana reasoned out loud. “But the intruder who ransacked your apartment probably didn’t know that.”

“I guess not. They were just casting a wide net, it seems to me. They took almost everything that wasn’t nailed down, or they ripped it to shreds.” She paused and sighed.
“Losing all that yarn does annoy me. I’ve been teaching the kids how to knit and we were going to start a new project. Which reminds me, Maggie. I wanted to ask you about those little birds and animals you have in the shop window. Are they hard to make?”

Maggie found the sudden change in subject abrupt. But Rebecca was probably worn out from talking about all her other troubles. Talking about knitting was almost as good a distraction from worries as actually knitting, she knew.

“Oh . . . the little amigurumi. No, they aren’t difficult at all and perfect for children. They don’t take long to make, so there’s fast gratification. And lots of motivation when you show them the samples,” she added. “You need round needles to make the body and a little polyester fluff to fill them. The wings or tails, or whatever, are knit separately and sewed on. The children will need some help with that step, but it’s a good little lesson in using a tapestry needle.”

“That sounds pretty simple.” Maggie could see Rebecca considering the instructions the way a teacher does. Wondering if she could lead her young knitters through this uncharted territory without too much chaos and confusion. In addition to everything else she had to worry about right now, Maggie thought sympathetically.

“Oh, I can come by and teach the lesson for you some afternoon. I want to donate all the materials anyway,” she added.

“Maggie, please. You have a store to run. You don’t have any time for that,” Rebecca argued.

“Of course I do. I have a very able assistant to mind the store. And I’ve been wanting to help you in some way, Rebecca. Ever since all this . . . all these traumatic events
began. Please let me do it. I love working with kids and I’m not too bad at it,” she added. Everyone knew Maggie had been an art teacher for more than twenty years before she opened her shop. One of the most favorite and well remembered, too.

“Oh, I know you’ll charm them,” Rebecca said with a smile. “They may decide they like you better than me.”

“I doubt it,” Maggie argued with a laugh. “But I have thought of doing some volunteer work somewhere in town. It was my New Year’s resolution . . . again. What is it now, April? This gives me a chance to check that one off.”

An inspiration to volunteer often struck Maggie. Usually, late at night, when she was sitting at home with nothing very pressing to take care of. In the bright light of day, when all the demands of her business and routine crowded in, the idealistic notion would melt away. But here was the perfect opportunity to follow through on her good intentions.

“Let me come and show the kids how to make the animals. What day should I come?”

“We usually meet on Wednesday and Friday afternoons. But you could come any day that’s convenient.”

“Let me check my calendar at the shop and I’ll call you. It’s no big deal,” she added, sensing Rebecca might try to put her off again. “I’m sure you could use a little relief right now from all your responsibilities at school. I know how tiring classroom teaching can be.”

“She could definitely off-load some of the extras. No question.” Nora had come back into the room with a tray that held a teapot, cups, and a plate of cookies that looked homemade. “But she’s very stubborn. Never likes
to ask for help. She’s always been that way—” Nora set the tray on the table and began to serve them. “—and there’s that school play that she’s working on.” Nora gave her daughter a look. “Extra time at school rehearsing that, too.”

Rebecca rolled her eyes. “The kids are such hams, it isn’t very hard to rehearse them.”

“They are at that age. Or painfully shy,” Dana offered. “What play are you working on?” she asked curiously.

“Nothing too ambitious. Just a comic version of
Little Red Riding Hood
.”

“Oh, that must be very sweet,” Maggie said.

“It has been fun. They’ve been working on it for weeks. I didn’t want to disappoint them. They’re almost ready for prime time,” Rebecca quipped, taking a sip of tea.

“She really didn’t have to go back to work so quickly. Her principal was happy to let her take a leave of absence. Even to the end of the school year,” Nora told them.

“Oh, I could never stay home that long. I would go crazy. At least I feel a little better working. It keeps my mind off of . . . of things I don’t want to think about.”

“I understand.” Dana took the teacup Nora had poured for her. “It’s good to get back to a normal routine after a loss. I’m sure it was hard, though. You’re a very strong person, Rebecca.”

Rebecca sighed. “I’m just doing what I have to do. For myself. And for the kids. I know they would feel abandoned. They’re very young. They wouldn’t get it.”

Maggie understood, too, but also felt Rebecca had shown great resilience and maturity by returning to work so soon. She wondered if Rebecca was talking
about her own feelings, too. She must feel abandoned by Jeremy. After all the plans they’d made for their future. The circumstances of his death had to feel like a great betrayal in some way, no matter how much she loved him. Maggie glanced at the bookcase and saw a framed photo of Rebecca and Jeremy, the one taken outdoors, the brilliant snowy background in stark contrast to their red cheeks and Jeremy’s colorful, uniquely designed scarf.

Was that the same one he was wearing on his fateful night? Maggie shuddered and put the thought out of her mind. She preferred to focus on how they looked at that very moment, captured for all time. Content in each other’s arms, without a care in the world, their future looking as cloudless as the backdrop of clear blue sky.

It was a lucky thing that we couldn’t see into our own futures. How could we enjoy the simple but satisfying pleasures life offered from day to day? Hour to hour? Maybe the trick was to be mindful of each moment and find joy where we could.

She was not surprised that Rebecca did not pull out any wedding photos to show them, as most newlywed brides would have. Considering all she’d been through, those photos would be very painful to view for a long time to come, Maggie imagined. She and her friends still hadn’t looked at the pictures Suzanne had taken that day. Maggie wasn’t sure when she’d be ready for that.

A short time later, Dana and Maggie said their good-byes and were back in Dana’s car, heading toward Maggie’s house.

Dana turned to Maggie, taking her eyes off the road for a moment. “I’m glad I came tonight. I didn’t get a chance to speak to Rebecca at Jeremy’s service. She was still in
shock. She seems to be doing much better. Considering all she’s been through.”

“Yes, she does. She’s a strong girl. But I hope the police leave her alone and get on the right trail. There’s only so much pressure anyone can stand.”

“That’s very true. Maybe the break-in at her apartment will convince them that she wasn’t involved.”

“I hope so,” Maggie said quietly. “With so many people interested and involved in that glue formula, you would think the police could come up with at least one other likely suspect, besides Rebecca.”

“And where is the formula? Even At-Las Technologies doesn’t seem to know,” Dana pointed out.

While Maggie could not figure out the answer to either of those pressing questions, she did not forget her promise to visit Rebecca’s after-school program. She arranged to start the amigurumi lesson on Wednesday afternoon and left Phoebe in charge of the shop.

“I have my cell phone. Make sure you call if anything comes up,” she instructed her assistant.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered.” Phoebe had slipped Maggie’s red tape measure around her neck and also Maggie’s extra pair of reading glasses, on their sparkling, beaded cord. “How do I look? Official, right?”

“Officially . . . very silly. Are you supposed to be me or something?”

“Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Phoebe recited a tidbit of wisdom from a poli-sci class.

Maggie shook her head. “If you get too bored being
corrupted, you can unpack the stock that came in yesterday. Instead of texting your friends all afternoon, I mean.”

“I’m sure I can manage both.” Phoebe smiled and gave her a little wave. “Have fun. Play nice.”

Maggie waved and headed out.

It had been a while since she’d worked with children this young, third through fifth grade. But that was an easy age to deal with. Most of them still minded teachers. She was sure she wouldn’t have a problem.

As she drove to the school, she wondered why she’d never offered a children’s knitting class at the shop. Now that would be a great market hook—Mommy and Me Stitchery, she might call it. Or maybe just Kids Knit?

I should leave the fussy helicopter mommies out of it, she decided. The kids are easier and more fun without the parents.