Murder Unmentionable (11 page)

The rat-a-tat-tat of someone knocking on the front door of Sweet Nothings made them both pause and turn in that direction. Pierre began yelping furiously, only abating when Arabella looked at him sternly.

“Finally!” Emma exclaimed. “It has to be the armoires.” She jumped off the stool and headed toward the door.

“Third time’s the charm,” Arabella quipped. “I really am excited to see them. Too bad Brian’s not here to help with the moving.”

“I’m sure they’ll put them where we want them.” Emma reached for the knob, turned it and swung open the door.

“Oh.”

A very tall man stood on the step, his broad shoulders nearly spanning the doorway. He looked to be about Arabella’s age and had thick, wavy, salt-and-pepper hair.

Emma was so startled she couldn’t find her tongue. She’d been so sure she was going to open the door to find two burly men ready to manhandle her armoires into the shop.

Arabella glided forward quickly. “Can I help you? I’m afraid we’re closed at the moment.”

The man fumbled in the pocket of his rumpled sport coat, pulled out a billfold and flipped it open. “Special Agent Francis Salerno. Tennessee Bureau of Investigation.”

“Oh,” Emma and Arabella chorused together.

“The police have already been here—” Arabella began.

Francis stuffed his wallet back in his pocket. “I’m just following up on a few details, ma’am. We’ve been called in to help the local police with their investigation.”

Thank goodness
, thought Emma. Maybe they would no longer have to deal with the odious Chuck Reilly.

Arabella immediately went into hostess mode. “Can I get you anything? A glass of sweet tea, perhaps, or some lemonade?”

If Emma didn’t know better, she could have sworn Arabella was actually
flirting
with Special Agent Salerno. Her
cheeks had turned bright pink, and there was a glow in her eyes.

Francis gave a slow smile. “It sure is hot out there.” He ran a hand around the back of his neck. “A glass of sweet tea would be pure heaven.”

“You just wait right there. I’ll be right back.”

Arabella disappeared into the stockroom, and Emma was left alone with Francis.

He gave a reassuring smile. “Would you mind showing me where the crime took place?” He said as politely as if they were at a tea party and he was asking her to please pass the cream.

Emma pointed to the spot where the carpet was stained a dark brownish red. Brian had tried scrubbing the spot for them, but it had been impossible to remove it. Emma bit her lip and looked away.

“I’m sorry, this must be very difficult for you.”

Emma felt tears explode against her lids. His manner was so different from Chuck Reilly’s. He wasn’t treating her like a suspect.

“We try to keep out of the local boys’ hair as much as possible. Unless they request our help, of course. But I do like to visit the location of the crime and meet the people involved. That way, when I’m going through the thousands of documents, reports and interviews every case accumulates, I can picture the scene and the people involved myself.”

Arabella bustled in with a pitcher and several glasses on a tray.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.” Francis took a sip of tea. He swallowed and licked his lips. “I think this must be the best glass of sweet tea I’ve ever tasted.”

Arabella turned even pinker, and her hands fluttered like butterflies around her face. “Thank you.”

Francis drained his glass and put it down on the counter. “I take it you’re the one who found the body?”

Arabella nodded.

“I’m downright sorry that you had to go through that.”

Arabella gave a small smile.

“This was your young man, I understand?” He turned toward Emma.

“We had been dating, but it was over.” Emma explained.

Francis nodded. “Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against him? Someone who maybe followed him down here?”

Emma was already shaking her head. “No, not really.”

Francis was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, I just came by to get the lay of the land so to speak, and to assure you ladies that we will do our best to track down all the facts and put the person who did this behind bars.”

“We appreciate that.” Arabella held the pitcher over Francis’s glass questioningly.

He shook his head. “I’ve got an appointment at the Paris police station in…” He glanced at his watch. “Ten minutes. Much as I’d love to stay and enjoy your hospitality some more, I’d better be going.”

“Well,” Arabella said, as she closed the door behind Francis, “what an attractive man!”

“Aunt Arabella!”

“What?” Arabella looked at her niece with eyebrows raised.

“What about Les?”

“What about Les?” Arabella shot back.

EMMA frowned at her computer. She was seated on a stool at the counter with a spreadsheet open on her laptop. Bookkeeping was not her favorite chore, but it was a necessity when running a business. Numbers didn’t come as naturally to her as did colors and fabrics and all things visual. She was glad she’d taken some courses in the fundamentals of
bookkeeping and accounting. Arabella’s accounting methods were just this side of an abacus. Emma was transferring everything to the computer and had set the store up for online banking and online accounts with their suppliers.

The door to Sweet Nothings eased open, and Brian stepped in.

All of Emma’s senses went into overdrive as they always did when she was around Brian. She put her head down so he couldn’t see the color she knew had flooded her face.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” His dark brows lowered over his eyes.

Emma shook her head and closed the lid of her computer. “Just some bookkeeping,” she wrinkled her nose. “Not my favorite task.”

“I know what you mean.”

Arabella came out of the stockroom at the sound of their voices. “Any news? Weren’t you going to check with that fellow who works for you about that card game?’

“I did.” Brian frowned in disappointment. “Unfortunately, Bobby was sick that night and skipped the game. He’s going to ask around though, and see if anyone else knows whether Mulligan showed up or not.”

Emma suppressed a quiver of frustration. It seemed as if every step they took forward led to a dead end. Why did Bobby have to get sick this one time? They had to get this wrapped up before Sweet Nothings’s grand opening. They just had to!

Pierre, who had been napping in his canopied toile bed, suddenly sat bolt upright. He twitched his white ear, then his black one, then twirled them both as if they were antennae attempting to pick up sound. He gave a low growl deep in his throat that slowly escalated to a full-fledged bark.

“What is it, boy?” Emma went to pat the top of Pierre’s head, but he jerked away as if to say “This is serious.” Emma
glanced at Arabella. “Maybe Bertha is going past out-side?”

Arabella shook her head. “If that were the case, his bark would be very different. Someone must be outside.”

Suddenly Pierre bolted from his bed and made straight for the door of Sweet Nothings, barking so excitedly that he levitated slightly off his paws with each bark.

“Maybe the delivery men are here with the armoires!” Emma exclaimed. She waited, but there was no knock on the door.

Pierre had stopped barking, but he continued to pace back and forth, his tail going like a metronome.

Emma strode toward the door and pulled it open to find a young woman standing there. She was at least six feet tall and very pretty, with long, blond hair. She was holding what looked like a bakery box fastened with old-fashioned string.

“Ohmygoodness,” she said so quickly that the words all ran together. “You must be Emma.”

Emma stood at the door, openmouthed.

The woman switched the box to her left hand and stuck out her right. “I’m Bitsy. Bitsy Palmer. Actually, it’s Catherine Palmer, but everyone has always called me Bitsy.”

Emma couldn’t help it—she looked Bitsy up and down. Although she was very thin and trim, at six feet tall, she was definitely not bitsy!

Bitsy laughed. “I know what you’re thinking. How did a long, tall drink of water like myself get a nickname like Bitsy? Well, it’s like this. I was born real premature and barely any more than three pounds. My uncle Mike said, ‘What a bitsy little thing,’ and it stuck. I’ve been Bitsy ever since.”

“Who—”

“I’m sorry. I should have said. I’m a friend of Liz’s, and she told me I’d better come right down here and welcome you home to Paris. Here.” She thrust the box at Emma. “I’ve
brought you some cupcakes from my shop, Sprinkles. It’s down the street and just around the corner.” She motioned toward the window with one hand.

“Thank you.” Emma took the box, still feeling slightly dumbstruck by the whirlwind that was Bitsy Palmer.

“Liz is just the best, isn’t she?”

Emma nodded.

“You know that big old garden of hers, out back?”

Emma nodded again.

“She grows edible flowers for me. To decorate my cupcakes with.” Bitsy took the box back from Emma, slid off the string and opened the top. “See?” She pointed to the beautifully colored flowers that topped the cupcakes.

Emma admired Bitsy’s handiwork. If they tasted even half as good as they looked, they would be spectacular. Emma had an idea. “You know we’re having a grand opening as soon as our renovations are done.” She gestured toward the interior of the shop. “We’d love to order some of your cupcakes. They’d be perfect.”

Bitsy’s face broke into a huge grin. “It would be a pleasure and an honor.”

Emma grinned back. She had the feeling she was really going to like Bitsy.

“And if you ever need anything, anything at all, as I said, I’m just around the corner.”

“Maybe we could get together sometime—”

“That would be marvelous! And perhaps we can drag Liz away from those children and husband of hers!”

Emma laughed. “It’s a deal.”

“I almost forgot.” Bitsy retrieved a piece of paper from under her arm where she’d stowed it. “I found this stuck to your window.”

“Thanks.”

“See you then. I’ve got to run.”

“Not another circular,” Arabella said with a sigh once
Emma had shut the door. “They usually shove them under the door, and I’ve nearly broken my neck slipping on them when I come in in the morning.”

“I don’t think it’s a circular.” Emma held up the note so that Arabella could see the printing on the front.

“Open it,” Arabella encouraged, peering closely over Emma’s shoulder.

Emma unfolded the damp paper. The writing inside was the same as the shaky capital letters on the front.

“What does it say?” Arabella fished for the glasses that hung from a beaded chain around her neck.

Emma shivered. “It says, ‘Stop sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong, or someone is going to get hurt.’”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Brian looked from Emma to Arabella and back again.

“I think it means someone doesn’t like our snooping around. But who?” Arabella removed her glasses and let them fall against her chest.

Emma turned the paper over. “It looks like someone used gum to stick it to the window.”

“Not a very sophisticated operator.” Arabella quipped.

Emma held the paper closer to her nose. “It smells familiar.”

“The gum? Something minty?” Arabella asked.

Emma shook her head. “Fruity. And I know I smelled this same gum somewhere.” She took another sniff. “I know. Angel. She was chewing gum when I went to her shop for my manicure the other day. And it smelled just like this.” Emma brandished the note under Arabella’s nose.

“Angel!” Arabella’s eyes widened in shock.

“Maybe she’s trying to protect her boyfriend, Tom. She might have gotten wind of the fact that I’ve been asking around about him,” Brian said.

Arabella frowned. “I can’t picture Angel doing something like this, but then you never really know.”

“Or,” Emma paused as an idea formed. “Maybe Angel is protecting herself? She claims Tom wasn’t home the night Guy was murdered. But what about Angel? If Tom wasn’t home, then she doesn’t have an alibi, either.”

Arabella glanced at the note again and shook her head. “It looks like we’ve stirred up a real hornet’s nest here.”

“WHEN did you say your friend Kate was arriving?” Arabella looked up from the boxes she was going through.

“She thought she’d be here around five o’clock.” Emma glanced at her watch. “Oh. It’s almost six already. Her flight must have been delayed because of the weather.”

Just then a knock sounded on the front door. “The armoires!” Arabella and Brian chorused with a laugh.

“Very funny,” Emma said over her shoulder as she headed toward the door. She saw Brian and Arabella exchange amused glances.

“Kate!” Emma exclaimed as she opened the door. “You made it. You must be exhausted. Was your flight delayed because of the weather?”

Kate looked puzzled. “No. We were right on schedule.”

“Oh.” Now Emma was confused. “I thought you said you’d be here around five.”

“Did I?” Kate laughed. “I must have forgotten about the
time difference. As a matter of fact, I’d better change my watch right now.”