The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (11 page)

District Attorney Landers returned to her table and busied herself straightening papers. Whitting checked his phone, and McQuiston looked nervous.

A uniformed bailiff walked into the courtroom and told us to stand as the judge entered.

“The Honorable Warren Street presiding,” the bailiff announced. As soon as the judge took his seat, the bailiff told us we could be seated.

“
The People versus Todd Calloway and Blake
McKenzie
,” the bailiff called. “Docket number two four seven three nine.”

He went to a door at the right of the courtroom and brought out Blake and Todd, whose hands were cuffed in front of them. The bailiff led them to stand before the judge’s bench. The guys still wore those awful orange jumpsuits, and they looked pale and tired. I took Sadie’s hand as Mrs. Van Huss sobbed into her husband’s shoulder.

The judge, a man who was in his mid- to late fifties, with sandy hair and tortoiseshell glasses, asked, “Do the defense attorneys waive the reading of the charges in this matter?”

“We do, Your Honor,” Campbell Whitting said.

I had looked up arraignments online last night, and I knew it was common for the reading of the charges to be waived. I suppose it was simply seen as a waste of time, since everyone already knew why they were in court.

The judge thumbed through a file before asking Alicia Landers to provide the specifics of the case.

District Attorney Landers stood and stepped in front of her table. “Your Honor, on Friday evening, March 17, the two defendants were
found standing over the body of Graham Stott, who was deceased upon deputies’ arrival. Police found a gun at the scene, and it is currently being tested to determine whether or not it was used to shoot the victim, who had suffered fatal gunshot wounds. Upon refusing to answer investigators’ questions about how the shooting occurred, Mr. Calloway and Mr. MacKenzie were arrested and charged with first-degree murder.”

“Gentlemen, how do you plead?” Judge Street asked.

“My client, Todd Calloway, pleads not guilty,” Mr. Whitting said.

“My client, Blake MacKenzie, also pleads not guilty,” Mr. McQuiston said.

“Very well. D.A. Landers, what do you propose in the way of bail?” Judge Street asked.

“Based on the seriousness of the charges against them, I request bail be denied,” she said.

“Mr. Whitting?” Judge Street prompted.

Mr. Whitting stood. “My client has no criminal record and is a respected businessman in this community. Denial of bail might cause him and his employees great financial hardship. Based on his longtime social and economic position in Tallulah Falls, I request that a reasonable bail amount be set.”

After Mr. Whitting was seated, the judge nodded to Mr. McQuiston.

Mr. McQuiston stood, cleared his throat, and said, “I request the same of my client, please.” He sat back down.

I nearly groaned aloud. I didn’t know what Sadie was paying this guy, but the best he could do was basically “What he said”? The judge’s expression told me he felt the same way.

Judge Street looked at the file again. “A preliminary hearing in this matter will take place on Monday, April 4, at ten thirty a.m. Bail for each defendant is set in the amount of seven hundred fifty thousand dollars.”

My jaw dropped, and I slowly turned to look at Sadie.

“It’s all right,” she said softly. “Mr. Whitting and Mr. McQuiston had already warned that bail would be set high, if at all. We’re using a property bond against our house and MacKenzies’ Mochas.”

A
fter the arraignment, I hurried home to get Angus. He and I made it back to the Seven-Year Stitch with only five minutes to spare. I didn’t like cutting it that close with regard to opening the shop, but with the busy evening I had scheduled, I knew that if I didn’t bring Angus into the shop, he’d be alone all day and most of the night.

I was putting my jacket and purse in my office when I heard the bell over the door jingle. “Be right there!” I called.

When I turned, I was startled to see Todd standing in the office doorway. He’d apparently sprinted from the front door. He bridged the distance between us and pulled me to him in a bear hug. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit you in jail again after Saturday morning,” I said.

“Hush and just let me hold you for a minute.”

I realized he was slightly trembling. “Are you okay?”

“Not really. I’ve got a lot on the line right now.” He tilted my chin up with his index finger. “Thank you for everything you’ve done…everything you’re doing.”

“It’s nothing. I know you and Blake are innocent, and I intend to help you prove it,” I said. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.”

Todd released me and stepped out of the office. I followed him to the sit-and-stitch square.

“I’m not sure what happened,” he said, sitting on the edge of the sofa facing the window.

I perched on the red chair closest to him. “What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

“Exactly what I said. And I don’t want to talk about it until Blake and I can discuss it alone.” Angus came to sit on the floor in front of Todd, and Todd patted his head. “Hey, buddy. How’re you doing?”

I was beginning to get frustrated. “Here I am, putting all this effort into helping you prove
your innocence, and you won’t even tell me what happened? You
are
innocent, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Marcy, I am. And I appreciate everything you’re doing. I just…” He shook his head.

“Do you think Blake is guilty? Do you believe he shot Graham with your gun?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Right now I’m doing my best to give Blake the benefit of doubt.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “He and I couldn’t talk in jail for fear of being overheard. Without talking with him, I honestly don’t know what happened.”

“Okay.”

“Do you believe me?” Todd asked.

I nodded, but there was an unpleasant nagging feeling that made me wonder if his and Blake’s conversation would uncover the truth or simply ensure they were telling the same version of events.

He stood. “Come on. Sadie is throwing Blake and me an impromptu celebration for getting out on bail. Let’s go have a latte.”

“I can’t leave the shop,” I said. “Congratulate Blake for me, though.”

“Sure thing,” he said. “Thanks again for your support.”

After he left, I realized how drastically his
mood toward me had changed while he was here. When he’d first arrived, he’d been grateful and huggy and warm. When he’d left, he’d been cold. Had he seen the doubt on my face when he asked if I believed him? Because now, I wasn’t sure
what
to believe. Despite the fact that he hadn’t spoken privately with Blake yet, he could’ve told me what he saw…how he believed the events of Friday night had transpired. Did he not trust me? Was he afraid I’d tell Sadie or Blake something that he’d told me in confidence?

I glanced over at Angus and saw that he was looking apprehensive. He’d felt the vibe of the room change, too. I stood, gave him a kiss on the head, and got him a granola bone to chew on. He took it to his bed beneath the counter. All was now right with his little world. Too bad a tasty treat couldn’t turn a person’s world around—although hot fudge sundaes could sure make a bad day better.

And rolls. Fresh hot buttery rolls were pure bliss…bliss on a bun. Great. I was making myself hungry, and lunch was two hours away.

I glanced out the window and spotted Vera Langhorne heading for the shop. She’d been out of town all last week, and I’d missed her. She—and the crazy stories she undoubtedly
had to tell me—would keep my mind off food for a while.

I noticed she was carrying gift bags, so I held the door open for her.

“Hello, darlings,” she said, including Angus in her hello. “I bring salutations and souvenirs from Washington.” She wore a long-sleeved coral shirt and matching espadrilles with dark denim jeans. She’d had medium blond highlights added to her brown bob, and chunky jewelry completed her casual chic ensemble.

“You look fabulous!” I gave her a quick hug. “Did you have fun?”

“Oh, I had the absolute best time ever. Since it was gals only and we had a suite, we spent most of our time in pj’s.” She giggled. “Of course, we didn’t stay in the suite
all
the time. We visited the spa more than once, tried the various restaurants in and around the hotel, went shopping…” She heaved a contented sigh as she sat down in the sit-and-stitch square. “And you remember Paul Samms, the newspaper writer I’ve been seeing since the masquerade ball?”

I nodded as I took a seat beside her.

“He called me twice last week,” she said. “We’re having dinner together this evening.”

Must be nice,
I thought. Here Vera is a widow
in her late fifties to early sixties, and she was having more romantic success than I was. Determined to be happy for her, though, I smiled. “Congratulations. As my grandmother used to say, it sounds like you’ve got the world by the tail on a downhill pull.”

“Things are definitely looking up.” She opened the first bag and presented Angus with a Kodiak bear squeak toy.

He took the toy, tossed it into the air, and then pounced on it. Vera and I laughed when the toy let out a loud shriek.

“And this is for you,” Vera said, handing me the larger bag.

“Thank you,” I said. I opened the bag to find a white spa robe, slippers, and milk chocolate truffles. “Wow, this is wonderful, Vera. I love it.”

“I knew you could use some pampering. I didn’t realize how badly, though, until I got back home,” she said. “I heard there was some trouble at the Brew Crew over the weekend. What happened?”

“That seems to be the million-dollar question,” I said. I told her about the shooting, the fact that neither Blake nor Todd seemed willing to divulge what actually happened, and that the men had both been released on bail this morning.

“Are you helping to investigate?” Vera asked. “I mean, after all, you’ve had your fair share of detective experience since you moved here to Tallulah Falls.”

“Please don’t remind me. But, yeah, I am doing a little asking around.” I lifted and dropped one shoulder. “It’s hard to investigate something, though, when the people involved aren’t willing to help you.”

“I guess it is. Plus, here you are, caught between two men on opposite sides of the law.” Vera’s face took on a faraway expression like the one I’ve seen on Mom’s face when she’s working out the costumes for a movie scene. Undoubtedly, Vera had cast me as “the dame” in some sort of film noir detective story.

“It’s really not like that,” I said.

Vera’s brows shot up, and her expression changed to one of surprise and confusion. “No…I guess it’s not.”

I followed her gaze to the sidewalk outside the shop window. Keira and Todd were walking past, hand in hand. As they strolled by, Todd kept his eyes forward, but Keira turned and raised her free hand in a silly little wave.

I felt like an idiot. Here I was, running all over the place to help prove this guy’s innocence, and he was escorting Princess Prisspot down
the street. Suddenly, I wanted to just forget about it and turn my back on the whole mess.

But I couldn’t do that—Blake and Sadie needed to learn the truth. I only hoped the truth wouldn’t be detrimental to them. Anyway, I already had the appointments with Roberto, Mark, and Charles. I couldn’t cancel on them now.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Vera asked gently.

“Never better,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m looking forward to kicking back and enjoying my robe, slippers, and chocolates. Thanks again, Vera. You rock.” And on the inside, I told myself one more time that I was perfectly fine with Todd dating Keira and that I didn’t need Todd or Ted in my life. But the feeling-sorry-for-myself part of me wanted to devour that entire box of truffles.

I took the gift bag to my office and returned with my Mountmellick embroidery project.

Vera leaned over to see what I was working on. “Ooh, that’s pretty. Is it candlewick?”

I explained that it was Mountmellick embroidery, an Irish form of embroidery that—according to the book by Pat Trott, which I had in stock—was introduced in the nineteenth century by Johanna Carter and developed in the town of Mountmellick in county Laoighis.

“The embroidery was used to help women earn money,” I said. “The technique uses a lot of different stitches, which could make a good learning tool.” That fact had just dawned on me, and Vera saw it in my eyes.

She smiled. “I get the feeling you’re thinking about teaching a new class.”

“You know, that’s not a bad idea.”

I was finishing up with a customer when Roberto and his wife, Carla, came into the shop. Angus greeted the newcomers enthusiastically, and they welcomed his attention. As I smiled and told them I’d be with them in a couple of minutes, they moved into the sit-and-stitch square to play ball with Angus.

The customer—an older gentleman who bought a beginner needlepoint kit for his granddaughter—paid and assured me he’d be bringing his wife to the store in a day or two. “She’ll love it here. I can’t believe she hasn’t found your place already.”

“Well, I’ve only been open for a few months,” I said.

“That explains it. We spent the winter in Hawaii with our son and his family,” he said.

“Now you’re making me jealous!” I laughed as I handed him the bag containing the needlepoint kit. “I hope your granddaughter enjoys it. And I’ll look forward to seeing you again and to meeting your wife.”

As the man left, I joined Roberto and Carla in the seating area. “Thanks for your patience…and for keeping Angus entertained.”

“No problem,” Roberto said. “We love dogs.”

“It’s nice to see you have such a thriving business,” Carla said.

Like me, Carla was short and compensated with sky-high heels. She had rich, chestnut-colored hair and green eyes. She seemed as nice as could be, but there was something in her demeanor that suggested she was the final decision-maker in the family.

“May I get you guys something to drink?” I asked. “I have water and sodas in my minifridge, and I have hot water for tea and instant cappuccino.”