Cross-Stitch Before Dying (19 page)

I offered a tight smile. “Yeah . . . that would be something.”

“Seriously, we just don’t know, do we? I only hope that the killer doesn’t think any of the rest of us know the secret and come after
us
.” Her wide eyes took in the shop, as if the killer was going to jump up from behind one of the sofas wearing a mask and wielding a chain saw any second.

“Maybe Henry had a heart attack,” I said. “We don’t know there was anything nefarious at all about his death.”

No sooner had those words left my mouth than Ted came rushing into the shop. “Marcy, you need to go home.”

I leapt up off the sofa. “Is it Mom? What’s happened?”

“The medical examiner smelled a bitter almond odor on Henry,” he said. “He tested for cyanide and found that Henry was poisoned.”

I frowned, not understanding why that would necessitate my going home.

“Detectives Bailey and Ray are getting a search warrant for your house,” Ted continued. “Someone in the department alerted Manu. You should go home and be there when they arrive.”

I turned toward Vera.

“Go,” she said. “I’ll watch the shop until you get back.”

T
ed and I hurried to my house, where Mom, Alfred Benton, and Cam Whitting were already waiting.

“Manu told us what was going on,” Ted said. “What can we do to help?”

“I think perhaps Angus would be more comfortable in another location,” Alfred said.

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that, but we definitely don’t want him here with crime scene techs tearing the house and yard apart,” I said. I avoided looking at Mom. I hadn’t meant that the way it sounded, but she took it that way anyway.

“I’m so sorry I’ve caused you so much trouble, Marcella. If I’d had any idea my coming here would’ve brought this mess down upon you, I’d never have come.”

I sighed. “Mom, this isn’t your fault.”

She simply turned away and went into the kitchen.

I heaved another sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to sound like I blamed Mom in any way.”

I looked at the three men. The two attorneys looked down at the floor, and Ted gave me a one-armed hug.

“It’s all right, babe,” Ted said. “Tensions are running high today. Why don’t you take Angus over to the Stitch so Vera can keep an eye on him?”

I nodded. “That’s a good idea. I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

I retrieved Angus’s leash from the entryway and called him to me. He bounded to me, excited that he was going to be taking a ride. He knew that most often when we were at home, I let him out into the backyard to play. Here, the leash meant he was going for a ride. At the shop, the leash meant he was going for a walk. Either way, Angus identified his leash with good things.

I’d followed Ted to my house in the Jeep, so I had Angus climb into the backseat and off we went. We met a car driven by Detective Bailey—Ray was in the passenger seat—on its way to my house. I sped up to five miles over the speed limit. I didn’t want to risk getting a citation, but I wanted to hurry to the Seven-Year Stitch and get back before the crime scene techs started taking my house apart. Hopefully, Ted and the attorneys would make them be as neat and orderly as possible.

This entire situation made me angry. As if Mom would poison Henry Beaumont! It was ridiculous. Surely the police would see that . . . wouldn’t they?

I pulled into one of the parking spaces in front of the Seven-Year Stitch. There was a customer there looking at embroidery floss.

“Ah, there she is!” the young woman said when Angus and I walked into the shop.

She was a regular customer, but her name escaped me at the moment. All I could think about was getting back home to Mom. Still, I realized the need to be polite. My problems were certainly not
her
fault. As if reading my mind, Angus sauntered over and nudged the customer in the rib cage with his big nose. She immediately began petting him and telling him what a sweet boy he was.

I saw Paul Samms sitting on the sofa beside Vera. I figured she’d called him as soon as Ted and I had left. He raised his hand in a friendly wave, and I waved back.

“Are you looking for anything in particular today?” I asked the customer, whose name I remembered was Trisha.

“I am,” she said. “I need a soft pink metallic floss, but it appears you’re all out.”

“Let me check the storeroom.” I went into the storeroom, and sure enough, I had a few skeins of pink metallic floss. I brought them out. “Would this do?”

“That’ll be perfect!”

I rang up her purchase, and she breezed out the door.

I stepped over to Vera and Paul. “I’m sorry to do this to you, but could you guys watch the shop just a little longer . . . and keep Angus with you? The attorneys didn’t think it was such a good idea for Angus to be there during the search, but I want to go back while the crime scene techs are there.”

“Of course you do,” Vera said. “We’ll stay as long as you need us to.”

“And if you need us to lock up the shop and bring Angus home at closing time, we’ll be happy to do that too,” Paul added.

“I appreciate that, but I’ll be sure to be back here before then,” I said. I’d make a point of it. I didn’t know Paul all that well, and I didn’t want Mom to feel like I’d brought a reporter to see her being humiliated by the police while we were trying so desperately to keep the rest of the media in the dark. I thanked them again, and quickly left the shop before another customer arrived.

By the time I got back to my house, the crime scene technologists’ truck was there. When I went inside, there were people I’d never seen before tramping around in my living room wearing latex gloves and paper booties. I was glad to see that they were at least not tracking dirt all over my carpet.

I went into the kitchen, where Detectives Bailey and Ray were heading up the search. They, too, had on gloves and booties. With their backs to me and unaware of my presence, I heard them talking about the case.

“...rare to have a poisoning like this around here,” Detective Ray was saying. “We’ve only had one other cyanide poisoning in the past five years.”

“Yeah, but our suspects aren’t
from around here
,” Detective Bailey said. He looked over his shoulder and saw me standing there. “You’re not allowed in this room while we’re conducting our search, Ms. Singer.”

“Where am I allowed to be?” I asked. “I’m looking for my mom and her
attorneys
.” I stressed the word
attorneys
to remind them that they’d better be doing everything aboveboard. And although I knew better than to say it, there had better be another team of investigators searching Sonny Carlisle’s hotel room.

“They’re in the backyard,” Detective Ray said.

“Thank you.” I moved past them and went out onto the back porch. Mom and Alfred were sitting on the swing so often favored by Angus, while Ted and Cam were sitting in chairs. I sat on the picnic table and glared at the door. “Does anyone know yet whether or not Sonny Carlisle has been subjected to a search? After all, he was the one who was there before Mom arrived and found Henry unconscious.”

“He has,” Alfred said. “In fact, they searched his hotel room early this morning.”

“Did they find anything?” I asked.

“They weren’t at liberty to say,” Alfred said. He and Ted shared a look. I caught the meaning. Had they found cyanide in Sonny’s hotel room, they wouldn’t be looking for it here.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” Mom said. “I really am.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “It isn’t the first time my home has been searched.” It was then that I noticed a stern-looking uniformed deputy standing at the corner of the porch. I gave him a tight smile. He didn’t smile back. He made me wish Deputy Preston hadn’t been off duty today.

We sat there in silence for a long while, listening to the birds chirp, watching the grass grow, hoping the detectives wouldn’t find anything linking my mother to Henry Beaumont’s murder. I didn’t
think
I had anything containing cyanide, but who knew? Could the drain cleaner contain cyanide? I played the phony commercial in my mind.
Smiling woman with beautifully coiffed hair and a double strand of pearls to complement her 1950s-style dress says, “With just a hint of cyanide, Drain Buster eats through anything that could clog your sink!” Voice-over man rapidly warns, “Keep Drain Buster out of reach of children, pets, elderly people, the mail carrier, rodents, and movie producers. May be harmful if swallowed, touched, inhaled, or looked at without protective eyewear.”

I glanced over at Mom. Alfred had placed a comforting hand over hers and was gently moving the swing back and forth. Mom looked pale and gaunt. She looked like she’d aged at least five years this week. She’d arrived in Tallulah Falls looking vibrant and healthy. She’d been lively and excited about the new movie. Now she looked tired and sad. And she wanted to go home to San Francisco. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to go home and hide until this ugly situation had been resolved.

Finally, Ted cleared his throat. When I looked up at him, he told me it was nearly five o’clock.

I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Vera and Paul . . . and Angus.” I turned to Mom. “We need to go get Angus and close up the shop. We’ll still keep Angus away from here until the investigators are finished.”

“It shouldn’t be much longer now,” Cam said. “This family has been inconvenienced long enough—actually, too long. Come back whenever you’re ready. If the investigators don’t like it, they can lump it. This is your home, and Angus is your dog. You aren’t even under suspicion for anything.”

“Thanks,” I said. “We’ll be back soon. Call my cell if you need us.”

Ted and I went through the house to the Jeep.

I handed him my keys. “Do you mind driving? I don’t feel up to it.”

“I don’t mind at all. In fact, it gives me something to do. I’ve been sitting and feeling helpless for so long, I could hardly wait to get out of there.”

“Me too.” I got into the Jeep and leaned back against the passenger seat. “When do you think this will all go away?”

“Soon,” he said. “The detectives aren’t going to find any cyanide in your house, are they?”

“I don’t think so. It’s not a common ingredient in any household cleansers or anything, is it?”

“No.” He squeezed my hand. “They won’t find anything, your mom will be let off the hook, and before long everything will be fine.”

“Do you really believe that?” I asked.

He pursed his lips. “It won’t happen that quickly, but I think it will happen.”

“I should offer to buy Vera and Paul dinner for watching Angus and the shop,” I said. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said. “Plus, if we get takeout and eat in the park, we can keep Angus away from home for a while longer and give the investigators time to finish up. Despite what Cam said, I don’t want to antagonize the Tallulah County Police Department. They’re already looking at your mom pretty hard for the murder of Babushka Tru. Now, they’ve added Henry’s murder to the mix, so we don’t need to give them any other reasons to be suspicious.”

Vera and Paul were receptive to the idea of getting takeout and eating in the park. It was a warm, partly cloudy afternoon, so the weather was great for a picnic, even if my mood wasn’t.

“And hopefully, these media hounds won’t know about the park and won’t find us there,” Vera said. “No offense, darling”—this to Paul—“but once news of Henry Beaumont’s poisoning is made public, those people are going to be swarming like flies.”

“That’s true,” he said. “There’s journalism and then there’s . . . whatever it is they do. I’m not offended, V, because I don’t consider myself one of those ‘media hounds’ as you call them.”

“Good,” she said, “because you certainly are not one of them. Well, boys, why don’t you go get the food while we lock up here and take Angus on to the park?”

“That sounds good,” Ted said. “Where should we meet?”

“We’ll be near the dog park,” I said. “I know Angus will enjoy a good run. Get him something small that won’t ruin his dinner, okay?”

That got a hearty laugh from all three of them, and I had to join in. There wasn’t much that could spoil Angus’s dinner. Supplement, yes. Spoil, no.

On the drive to the park, Vera asked me about Mom.

“How’s Beverly holding up?”

“Not well,” I said. “I was noticing today how drained she looks. This ordeal has taken a terrible toll on her.”

“I can imagine,” Vera said. “Do you think she’ll continue to design costumes after this?”

The question blindsided me. “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t she?”

Vera shrugged. “I didn’t mean anything hateful by it, dear. I only meant that this might cause her so much distress that she won’t want to do it again . . . that maybe she’d want to do something else . . . start a clothing line or something.”

“Huh . . . I’ve never considered Mom not designing costumes,” I said. “It’s what she does . . . it’s who she is.” I made a mental note to talk with Mom about what, if any, life changes this movie experience might have evoked. I had been thinking about her beating murder charges. I hadn’t thought about how the murders themselves had affected her and her career outlook.

We got to the park and turned Angus loose in the dog park. He immediately made friends with a boxer, and the two romped and played.

When the men returned, they had a bucket of fried chicken and a plan. According to Paul, we were going to “put our heads together” and figure out who’d want to kill both Henry Beaumont and Babushka Tru.

“It can’t be a coincidence,” Paul said. “The victims knew each other and worked together. Now, what all did they have in common?”

I’d brought Angus to the picnic table where Vera was using napkins to make a tablecloth. I looped the leash around the table leg and opened a small packet of wipes I keep in my purse.

“Well, the main thing is the movie,” I said. “Maybe someone didn’t want the movie to be made. I mean, Babs was killed, but Henry had held a press conference saying he was still planning to move forward.” I cleaned my hands and threw the wipe into the trash can.

“Okay, the movie.” Paul wrote The Movie at the top of a sheet of yellow legal paper. “What all do we know about the movie?”

“It was about an Indian film star named Sonam Zakaria,” I said. “I’d never heard of her—and in fact thought it was a man—before Mom explained that she’d been a big deal in Bollywood. Manu and Reggie had heard of her. They thought she was great too, but I don’t know that many other Americans would have been familiar with her . . . at least not until the film came out.”

Paul was nodding. “Okay . . . okay. . . . What if someone didn’t want the American public to become familiar with Sonam Zakaria?”

“I guess that’s possible,” I said. “But wouldn’t they just do like other famous people and simply denounce the movie as a pack of lies?”

“Let’s move on from Sonam Zakaria,” Ted said. “Is there any other reason that someone would want to keep this movie from being made?”

I gave him a grateful smile. I knew him well enough to realize that he was merely placating Paul. Ted didn’t think the movie was the link Henry and Babs shared that got them both killed, and I agreed with him.

“I can’t think of a single reason anyone wouldn’t want the movie made,” Vera said. “It was BTru’s big chance at a comeback; there was already some Oscar buzz about it. . . . In fact, I think it’ll still get made. It’ll just be delayed until they find a new producer and star.”