If the Shoe Kills (5 page)

T
he tables were filled with chatting women. Everyone seem to know each other. Except Amy and me. We were at our own table near the back. A woman at the table in front of us turned and stuck out her hand. “I'm Leslie Talman. I don't believe we've met before. Did you just join the class?”

I took her hand and the woman squeezed, causing me to squeak. When she let go, I managed to whimper, “I'm Jill Gardner. I own Coffee, Books, and More across the street.” I pointed to the right. “This is my friend, Amy Newman.”

Amy smiled and waved, avoiding Leslie's grip. “We're so excited to take Marie's class. Have you taken a glass class before?”

“Tons. I swear, Marie should give me a frequent customer loyalty card. I've even brought her new students from the bank where I work. I don't think there's one teller who hasn't taken the introduction class.” Leslie pointed to a woman standing near the coffeepot. “That's Anne, she's a vault teller. The manager's girlfriend is even taking this class.”

“Marie must love you.” I smiled as Leslie blushed just a bit.

“I can't help it if I'm addicted to the craft. My husband's home watching a football game. Or a rerun.” Leslie nodded to the coffee. “You want some coffee before we start?”

“I'm good.” I watched as the heavyset woman walked away, her bright yellow T-shirt stretching to cover her midriff. A hand touched my arm, and I turned to see Mindy standing next to me. “How's your night going? You and Marie getting along?”

Mindy grinned and nodded. “She's great. We sat together and she showed me the ornament we're making tonight. Then she had me make one all on my own. I can't believe how patient she was with me. And the angel looks beautiful. Marie says I can keep the projects I make here.”

“Sounds like you got the best assignment out of the group,” Amy teased. “My intern thinks I'm going to yell at her for asking to go to the bathroom.”

“Who's with her tonight?” I'd forgotten that Amy should be working with her charge rather than helping me stalk Marie.

“Esmeralda. She's teaching her dispatch.” Amy pulled a strand of blond hair out and checked for split ends. “We're splitting the time between us.”

“That sounds fun, too,” Mindy said, not convincing us of her honesty.

I was just about to ask about her son when Marie walked into the room and the women quieted like she was the president coming into a White House briefing. I glanced at Amy, who shrugged.

“Good evening, ladies. So glad you took time out of your busy schedules to work on your personal development. Having a hobby isn't being selfish; it's being true to your own development as a child of God.” Marie smiled and motioned to Mindy, who scurried up to meet her. “This is my new assistant, who'll be helping me teach tonight.”

Mindy shyly waved to the group. “I'm Mindy, I'm glad to be here.”

“Hi, Mindy,” the group chorused back.

“This feels like an AA meeting,” Amy whispered.

I shot my friend a look. “And how would you know that?”

Amy grinned. “Can I plead television?”

“Goofball.” I turned back to the front of the room, where Marie was glaring at us. “Sorry,” I mouthed. It felt less like a class and more like Sunday services had when I was a kid. My mom used to give me that same look when I'd start to fidget.

Twenty minutes later and we were deep into our project, a heralding angel. I was pleasantly surprised at the fact my effort was beginning to actually look like an angel. At least until I saw Amy's. Her lines were clean, and if mine referenced a female in a Picasso manner, she had the
Mona Lisa
angel. I narrowed my eyes at her.

“My mom wanted her little girl to be an artist, not a city planner. I had classes in all forms of art before I fell in love with architecture.” Amy held her ornament up.

“Amy, I didn't know you were so talented.” Marie came up behind me and leaned close to examine my friend's foil work. She patted Amy on the arm, then studied my efforts. “I'm sure you'll catch on, Jill. Keep trying.”

“I appreciate your support.” I tried not to let the envy seep out of my voice. I had to remind myself that we weren't there to learn the craft. I focused on Marie. “Hey, I never asked, how are you feeling? After the near miss in the street? You didn't get hit, did you?”

Marie froze. She glanced around the room. “Time for a break, everyone.” Lowering her voice, she answered, “I'm fine. I didn't get hurt, just scared.”

“You should have seen Ted after the incident, he was so upset. He kept asking if I thought you were all right. He seemed genuinely concerned.”

“Ha.” Marie shook her head. “He was probably more concerned that I'd dented his car. He treated that Mustang like it was his baby.”

Amy caught my eye. She took the hint and asked, “So, you knew Ted?”

Marie glanced around the room. Most of the students were outside, enjoying the night air and the white Christmas lights twinkling in the trees. “Mindy mentioned that he worried about that car all the time. He had his own parking lot for it. One car in ten spaces. Can you believe that?”

Sounded like Ted, I thought. A few people drifted back into the room. It was now or never, so I jumped to the obvious question. “Marie, were you married to him?”

I swear the blood in her face drained. “Why would you ask that?” She didn't wait for an answer, just put her arm around one of her students and left our table.

“That was a definite reaction.” Amy stood closer. “She knew him.”

“So, why would she lie?” I whispered.

Amy shrugged. “She didn't lie, she just didn't answer the question.”

I focused on finishing the angel during the next hour of the class, wondering how to get Marie to admit that she was Ted's missing wife. Maybe I was seeing something that wasn't there. Thinking about the last time Greg caught me investigating on my own, I decided to hold my opinions until I could take him more than just a feeling and an old newspaper photo. Amy and I stopped to see Aunt Jackie at the shop after class, along with a few other class members.

“So, how was the class?” Jackie asked as she poured our coffee.

“Wonderful,” said a woman standing behind me. “Marie makes it seem so easy. I'm all thumbs with most crafts, but my angel turned out beautiful.”

I smiled and nodded. “She is something else.”

As the women went over to the couch with their drinks, I sat on the stool. “I'm beat.”

Jackie patted my hand. “Finding Ted must have been awful.”

I shuddered, thinking about the blood covering the car. “I know I didn't know him, but no one should die that way.”

Amy glanced around the room toward the women gathered around the couch. “I'm heading over to chat up my new friends from class. Maybe they know more about the mysterious Miss M.”

“Spies are us,” I joked and Amy gave me a thumbs-up. When she was seated with the group, I turned back to Jackie. “I think she just wants to hang out with the cool kids.”

“You mean the crafty kids.” Jackie smiled. “You forget I used to get your handmade gifts when you were a kid. I'd tell your mother ‘stop sending me that junk,' but she didn't want to hurt your feelings.”

“I thought you liked my gifts.” I sipped my coffee to hide my smile. I'd known even back then that I wasn't the creative type, but it didn't stop me from trying. “What do you know about the Hendricks family? From what I saw in the news, they were a pretty big deal back in the day.”

Jackie tapped her pen on the counter. “It's been a few years. But I think I still have the number of a woman who was tight with the family. I'll give her a jingle tomorrow morning.”

“You're the best.” I stood and waved at Amy. “I'm heading home. I want to cuddle with Emma and pretend the last few days never happened.”

Sasha stood behind my aunt, washing dishes. “You should take care of yourself. My auntie found a dead body last year, she still has nightmares.”

I turned to look at the young woman, her dreadlocks pulled back into a pink scarf. “That must have been awful.”

“Nah, they expected it. My aunt's a cook at the long-term care facility over in Bakerstown. She took a woman's meal into her room, and the poor woman had gone in the night.” Sasha swung a towel over her shoulder, tears filling her eyes.

“Honey, old people die.” Jackie patted Sasha's back.

“I know,” Sasha sighed. “It just feels so pointless sometimes. I didn't even like Ted and I feel bad for him. Who knew he was that sad?”

Jackie pulled her into a hug. “I know, sweetheart.”

As I walked home that night, I thought about what Sasha said. Ted hadn't seemed sad. Maybe there was a reason?

 

Brenda Morgan, the new manager for The Castle, an old Hollywood glam estate turned museum and tour stop, came into the shop around ten the next day.

“Here's next month's order.” Brenda handed me a file with the coffee supplies and books she got from my shop to use in her small gift shop at The Castle. Our partnership had been a recent development after Brenda took over management from her ex-husband. Craig Morgan, a man meaner than a teased rattlesnake, had been killed trying to scam the local motorcycle drug dealer gang. “Pour me a pumpkin latte and dish me up a slice of Sadie's Chocolate Dream pie. Get one for you, too, we're celebrating.”

I made up the latte, poured a fresh cup of coffee for me, and plated up the treats. Brenda settled onto the couch looking out of the large picture window onto the street. When I brought the tray over, I glanced around the empty room before settling next to her on the couch. “How do you always time your visits when the shop's empty? I'm glad to take a break, but you're uncannily good at timing.”

Brenda shrugged and set down the historical romance she'd been leafing through. She'd taken up kickboxing twice a week in the city and her arms appeared toned. I, on the other hand, hadn't been on a run with Emma since Wednesday, and both of us were starting to be grumpy about the lack of movement. “Just lucky, I guess.” She grinned. “So, aren't you going to ask what we're celebrating?”

“Friday?” Brenda didn't need a real reason to celebrate, she just enjoyed life. Especially now.

“That was last week.” Brenda grinned.

I took a bite of the pie and almost groaned, it was that good. Deep, dark chocolate with cool vanilla whipped cream on top. Heaven. I opened my eyes and she was watching me. I wiped my mouth with a paper napkin. “What?”

“You're not even going to try to guess?” Brenda leaned back into the couch, her lip stuck out like a five-year-old's.

“I don't know. Sorry.” I took a sip of my coffee.

“My sister's coming to visit for Thanksgiving.” Brenda squealed and bounced on the couch. “I haven't seen Lori since she moved to New York a few years ago.”

“I didn't know you had a sister.” I searched for any memory of Brenda talking about siblings. I didn't even remember her mentioning family, well, besides Craig, ever.

“Lori and I weren't close, especially after I married Craig. They didn't get along at all.” Brenda finally took a bite of her pie. “According to Craig, I had to choose between him and her. I should have been smart back then and left long before I did.”

“We make the best choices we can at the time we make them.” I thought about my former life, before I moved to South Cove. “I'm sure she understands.”

“Lori's pretty direct, so if she's still mad, I'll know as soon as I pick her up at the airport.” Brenda paused. “It's okay if I bring her along to your dinner, right?”

Crap, where would we fit one more person into the house? I was beginning to think Greg's plan of borrowing tables from the Methodist church and setting up out in the backyard was the only way we'd be able to pull off this Thanksgiving dinner. I pasted on a smile and said the only thing I could. “Of course it's okay.”

When Greg came over for dinner that night, he regarded me like I'd grown a third head. “You invited someone else for dinner? What does that make, twenty?”

“No, eleven. Stop exaggerating.” I'd counted as I'd walked home from the shop. I didn't even own eleven chairs that would fit under a dining room table.

Greg grabbed the steaks I'd set out and went out on the porch to start up the grill. “Stop inviting people.”

I followed after him. “I didn't invite Brenda's sister, Brenda invited her. What was I supposed to say, no, now that you have real family coming in, you're not welcome?”

“We don't have any more room.” Greg cleaned the grill.

I slipped onto the rocking bench I'd bought last summer. “I'm not inviting anyone else. Not even Bon Jovi. Or Sheryl Crow.” I named his favorite singers.

“Now, don't get crazy on me. Of course, if they want to come, we'll find room.” Greg came and sat next to me. Emma brought him her ball and he lobbed it out to the end of the yard. I leaned into him and closed my eyes. When he spoke, his voice was so soft, tears filled my eyes. “You okay?”

“I've had better weeks, but yeah, I'm good.” Jackie had excused me from tonight's Mystery Readers Group, so I had nowhere to be except here. I nestled into his chest, drinking in the smell of him. My heartbeat slowed, calming me. Just being near him, I felt more at peace with myself.

We sat there together for a while. Greg threw Emma's ball, while I tried to clear my mind of all the images from the last week. The smell of steak grilling brought me back to reality, and I reluctantly straightened. “I guess I'd better get the salad made.”