Stitch Me Deadly (18 page)

“Still, that’s a lousy way to treat someone,” I said.

“Spoken like a woman who’s been there.” Devon arched a brow.

I let his comment hang. I didn’t owe him any explanations. “And you think all this information about Edward Larkin and Louise being jilted has something to do with her being murdered, oh, seventy years later?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But it’s something. If nothing else, it adds drama to her story when I
do
get all the pieces together.” He rested his elbows on the counter. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight and put our heads together—just you and me this time.”

“I can’t tonight,” I said. “I have a class.”

“All right. What about tomorrow, then?”

“I’ll have to make sure Mom hasn’t made plans,” I said, hedging. Somehow it seemed rude to give him a flat-out no.

“Fine. I’ll check with you tomorrow afternoon, and if you haven’t made plans, we’ll go to dinner. Is it a date?”

“Devon, I don’t know anything about Louisa Ralston other than what I’ve told you,” I said. “I don’t know anything about anyone who might’ve wanted to do her in.”

“But you can help me find out,” he said.

“I’m not sure I
want
to help you find out.”

“You’d rather have people think that your store is cursed? Or worse?”

“No, of course not, but—”

“I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon,” Devon said, heading for the door. “And I won’t take
no
for an answer.”

I looked down at Angus, who was dozing in his bed beneath the counter. “Some help you are. You could’ve growled at him and scared him away or something.”

He wagged his tail.

 

 

Cary blew in at lunchtime carrying a vase of red roses in one hand and a picnic basket in the other. He was wearing brown trousers, a white polo shirt, and a tan sport coat. Naturally, I didn’t say anything to Mom, but he was starting to creep me out with his obvious imitation of Cary Grant. Okay, so the man was his namesake. You don’t see every woman named Marilyn—even if she
is
, in fact, named after Marilyn Monroe—dyeing her hair platinum, putting on a beige gown, and doing a breathless rendition of “Happy Birthday” to various and sundry presidents.

I mean, come on—show some individuality, Cary!
That is, of course, what I
wanted
to say—not what I actually said. I actually said, “Hey, what a nice surprise!”

“Thank you, Marcy,” he said. “Is your mom around?”

“She’s walking Angus at the moment, but she’ll be right back.”

“Terrific. By the way, I spoke with my mother this morning, and she’d love to see Aunt Louisa’s sampler.”

“Can she come in to the shop?” I asked. “Or would you rather take it to her?”

“I’d rather take it to her,” he said.

Mom stepped in as Cary said that. “Take what to whom?” she asked.

Angus immediately trotted over to sniff the picnic basket.

“Ah, now, this isn’t for you, young man. Not entirely, anyway. I do have a ham bone in there for you if your mistress will allow you to have it.” Cary looked at me.

“Sure,” I said, “but could you hand it to me? I’ll put it and Angus in the bathroom while we enjoy our picnic.”

I took Angus and the bone into the bathroom, where Angus immediately sat down on the rug and went to work. I pulled the door shut and returned to the main part of the store, where Mom and Cary were busy arranging our picnic lunch on the coffee table.

“Cary tells me his mother would like to see the sampler,” Mom said.

“Right,” I said. “He’s going to take it to her. Aren’t you, Cary?”

“As a matter of fact, I’d like the three of us to take it to her. I thought that tomorrow afternoon when you close the shop, we could pick up some food and go have dinner with her.” He smiled. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds lovely,” Mom said.

“I’ll feel rather like a third wheel,” I said. “Wouldn’t you two prefer to go alone?”

“Of course not,” Cary said. “I want Mother to meet you both. You can always bring a date if that would make you feel better.”

“I think I will, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”

Mom grinned at me. “Todd?”

“Ted.”

 

 

I called Ted as I was taking Angus home before class. Mom was staying at the shop, saying she was too full for dinner after the picnic lunch Cary had brought us. I said I’d bring us both a salad from home.

I had to admit, lunch had been nice. Cary had brought cucumber sandwiches, potato salad, green bean casserole, and coconut cream pie—all of which had been made by his mother’s live-in cook—which made me wonder why we were picking up takeout for dinner tomorrow night, but I hadn’t asked because I didn’t want to appear rude.

Ted didn’t answer until the third ring.

“Hi, it’s Marcy. Am I interrupting anything?”

He expelled a breath. “No . . . not really. What’s up?”

“It can wait,” I said. “I can tell you’re busy.”

“I’m busy, but this actually concerns you. I would’ve phoned you in a few minutes, anyway. You must have ESP or something,” he said.

“Okay.” I drew out the word, wanting to know what he was talking about but dreading it at the same time.

“I got a copy of Adam Gray’s toxicology report faxed to me from the Tallulah County PD a few minutes ago.”

“Don’t tell me,” I said.

“Better me than someone else.”

“They found Halumet, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They did.”

“That was quick,” I said.

“I know. They put a rush on it.”

“So now what?”

“I’m not sure.” He blew out another breath. “They’ll either talk with you again, or they’ll try to find more evidence before they do.”

I groaned.

“Why did you call me?” he asked. “Is there something else going on?”

I explained about Cary and the trip to his motherʹs house for dinner tomorrow afternoon. “If it wouldn’t interfere with your schedule and you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to go with me.”

He laughed—and frankly, I found that a little insulting.

“A simple
no
would’ve sufficed,” I said.

Still laughing, he said, “It’s not that. I’d be happy to go. It’s just that I’ve never been on a double date with a girl and her mother . . . and especially not to go meet her motherʹs boyfriend’s
mother
.”

I started laughing, too. In fact, I laughed so hard, I had to pull off the road so I wouldn’t wreck the Jeep. When I caught my breath, I said, “I hadn’t even thought of it that way. It really is absurd, isn’t it? We’ve been dumped into a Mel Brooks comedy.” I started laughing again. “And the lead thinks he’s Cary Grant.”

Ted was still laughing, too. “What should I wear?”

“I’m wearing jeans and sneakers.” I wiped the tears off my cheeks. “If we have to make an escape, I want to be able to run.”

We hung up, and I took a tissue out of the glove box to further dry my cheeks and to remove the smudged mascara from under my eyes. That was a great laugh. I hadn’t laughed that hard in who knew how long.

I only hoped I’d still be laughing when this entire mess was said and done. I was desperately hoping this visit to Cary’s mother’s house would be a way to learn more about Louisa Ralston, the replaced sampler verse, and whoever might have wanted to hurt either Louisa or Adam Gray. And having a detective of Ted’s caliber there wouldn’t hurt, either.

Besides, I wanted to get to know Ted better. Like me, Todd had been hurt before. In fact, Sadie and I’d had a huge argument when I found out she’d fixed me up with Todd even though she thought he was still hung up on Riley Kendall—yes, happily married, pregnant Riley. That had been three years ago, and now I believed Todd was over Riley, but I still felt I should proceed with caution. Of course, Ted was divorced, so I needed to be cautious there, too.

Was there any part of my life where I could throw caution to the wind? Even for just one day?

I
returned to the shop an hour later, wearing fresh makeup and carrying two garden salads in plastic containers.

“These can’t hold a candle to Cary’s lunch,” I said, “but then I don’t have a live-in cook like his mom does. Or like you do, for that matter.”

“Frances only comes in now on special occasions,” she said.

“Since the Ellis cook can whip up food like she did today, then why did Cary say we’d stop for takeout on the way to his motherʹs house tomorrow?”

“I asked him that,” Mom said, sitting on the sofa and opening her salad. “The cook is off on Fridays and Saturdays.”

“Well, there you go.” I went to my office and retrieved two diet sodas from the mini-fridge.

“Now I have a question for you,” she said when I returned. “Why are you taking Ted rather than Todd to this dinner at Cary’s house tomorrow evening?”

“Ted’s being really great to me,” I said, sitting on the sofa opposite her. “Even though this case isn’t in his jurisdiction, he’s helping me try to figure it all out. He’s trying to protect me.”

“And Todd?”

“I like Todd,” I said, opening my own salad and trying to avoid Mom’s prying eyes. “We’ve been out a few times, but I’m not looking for a serious relationship right now.”

“Is he?”

“I don’t know. Before Sadie introduced the two of us, he’d been involved pretty seriously with someone else.”

“I remember your telling me about that,” Mom said. “You and Sadie had quite an argument over it, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“What is she going to say about your asking Ted to dinner?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I can’t worry about that right now. Todd has been through a rough breakup, Ted is divorced, and you know what I went through with David.”

“Is that what this is really about?” she asked. “Are you afraid you’ll get hurt again?”

“Partly. Maybe I am a bit gun-shy, but I don’t want to get hurt, and I don’t want to hurt someone else, either. I like both Todd and Ted, but I’m not sure I’m ready for an exclusive relationship with anyone at this point. And I’m not sure either of them is seeking a long-term commitment.” I stabbed a chunk of lettuce. “I was so sure David was the one, Mom.”

“I know you were, darling.”

I sighed. “I guess that’s how Mrs. Ralston must’ve felt about Edward Larkin.”

“Who’s Edward Larkin?” Mom asked.

“The guy Mrs. Ralston was engaged to before she met her husband, Frank.” I looked up at Mom. “At least, that’s the story Devon Reed was telling me this morning. He says Ella Redmond found that out for him.”

“That confirms your theory on why the two of them were together at the Brew Crew last night.”

I nodded. “Louisa’s engagement to Richard was in the newspaper and everything. Then apparently Edward called off the wedding, left Oregon, and joined the army.”

“How does Doofus Reed think any of that information will help him determine what happened to Mrs. Ralston?”

I giggled. “You remind me of Endora on
Bewitched
.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” I said. “Remember how Endora used to call Darrin anything but Darrin? She usually called him Durwood.” I frowned. “Wonder if she ever called
him
Doofus.”

“I don’t know,” she said, “but it would’ve fit. Anyone having access to instant cleaning, instant meals, and instant travel but forbidding its use is a doofus.”

“Agreed. Back to your question. Devon said he didn’t think the information would help him solve the murder but it would add interesting details to the backstory.”

Mom rolled her eyes. “Doofus.”

“We’ve talked about my relationships—or lack thereof—with Ted and Todd,” I said. “What’s the deal with you and Cary? Are you his Sophia Loren?”

“No. I’m afraid I lack both the accent and the boobs to pull that off.” She smiled. “I like Cary. He’s nice, and we have a lot in common. How many straight men have you ever met who could tell you who Edith Head was?”

“Not many.” Actually, I don’t think I’d ever met anyone besides Mom and Cary who knew who Edith Head was, but I didn’t want to sidetrack her.

“I’m not falling in love, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said, “and neither is he. We enjoy each other’s company. I’ll probably see him on occasion when I’m in Oregon, and if he’s ever in California, he’ll likely look me up.”

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it. Cottages with white picket fences are for young people . . . like you. So don’t let that dream pass you by.”

“Like you did?”

Mom began to pick around in her salad again, and I knew it was to avoid looking at me. “I had that for a while . . . with your dad. When he died, I was devastated. And I was left with a little girl to care for on my own. You and my career were the only things I could think about then.” She paused. “I guess it got to be a habit. I know you’re grown now, and you don’t really need me anymore . . . but I still need you.”

I set my salad on the coffee table and went over to the sofa to give her a hug. “I’ll always need you, Mom. Always.” I felt guilty about venting to Ted earlier about the fear that Mom would move to Tallulah Falls. And I
did
need her. I just needed to learn to depend less on her and more on myself.

We finished our salads in companionable silence. As we were packing up the containers and forks, Ella Redmond came into the shop.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly. “I had to park the car down the street, and so I ran here because I was afraid you’d be closing.”

“Nope,” I said with a smile. “Tonight’s a class night, so we’ll be here for a while yet.”

“That’s good. I ran out of blue perle floss for my needlepoint project.” She handed me the label and a piece of blue floss. “Will this help you find the right color?”

I took the label. “All I need is the number. But hang on to that floss, so we can be sure it matches up.” I took the label and went to the perle flosses.