The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (12 page)

“No, thank you. We just had lunch,” Carla said.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Roberto.

Angus, tired from the recent romping, took his new squeak toy and loped over to lie down by the window.

Roberto looked around at the dolls I’d dressed in elaborately embroidered outfits. “You made these clothes?”

“I did.” I sat on the chair nearest the counter. “Although my mom is, of course, the expert, I can do some costuming myself. What types of films do you make?”

“We do all kinds,” Roberto said. “We do small-budget indie films mostly, some documentaries.”

“We do horror, drama, action, coming-of-age,” Carla chimed in. “We had a film debut at Sundance last year. It was called
Wicker
.”

“I’ve been wanting to see that!” And I had…ever since I’d Googled Roberto’s company and learned they’d done the film. Until then, I’d never heard of it. It was about a woman who overcame financial hardship following her husband’s tragic death. The woman supported herself, her children, and her invalid mother by making wicker baskets.

“It’s based on a true story,” Carla said.

And there was my opening. “Speaking of true stories, maybe someone will make a screenplay based on the murder of Graham Stott. I attended the arraignment before coming to work this morning. Isn’t this whole thing a nightmare?”

“Yes, it is.” Roberto cast a weary sidelong glance at his wife.

“I warned Roberto not to go to that stupid party,” Carla said. “I knew there would be trouble.”

I leaned closer. “How did you know?”

“Because that group can’t get together
sober
without fighting,” she said. “A party at a bar was simply throwing gasoline on an open flame.”

“Graham was overall a good guy,” Roberto said. “But he almost always wound up acting like a jerk when more than a couple of us got together.”

“If no one really liked Graham and he was known for his bad behavior at these types of events, then why did Todd invite him?” I asked.

“He pretty much had to.” Roberto inclined his head. “Graham loaned Todd some of the money to get the Brew Crew off the ground.”

“So Todd and Graham were pretty close friends, then,” I said.

Roberto barked out a laugh. “Hardly. I don’t know of anyone who was all that close to Graham. It’s just that he and his family have always had money to burn. Whenever anybody needed money, they knew where to go.”

“Thank goodness we never had to stoop that low,” Carla said, although I noticed that Roberto averted his gaze.

“Roberto, while we’re on the subject of Graham and the Alpha Sigs, may I ask you a question?” I asked.

He briefly looked back at me, but he still appeared to be uncomfortable. “I guess so.”

“Did Blake ever date Tawny Milligan?” I asked. “Somebody was talking about her and mentioned that she’d dated several of the fraternity brothers. Since Sadie and I are best friends, I wanted to know if there’s anything I should avoid talking with her about. She told me she didn’t really know Tawny.”

“I don’t know if she and Blake dated or not,” Roberto said.

“Puh-leeze,” Carla said. “That little tramp dated any of the Alpha Sigs she could dig her long fake fingernails into, including Blake MacKenzie. I met Tawny our first semester in college. We were friends before I started dating Roberto.”

“It doesn’t sound like the two of you are friends anymore,” I said.

Carla shook her head vehemently. “Oh, no. That so-called friendship fell flat on its face when Tawny tried to steal Roberto away from
me. As if!” She took her husband’s arm possessively. “After that, she moved on to the other Alpha Sigs. If you ask me, she was trying to snag a rich man to take care of her.”

“Did she?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Carla huffed. “She was with a different guy every time you saw her. She ruined her reputation. I heard that after college she even changed her name to try to escape her sordid past.”

“She changed her name?” That would certainly explain why I’d been unable to find a recent phone listing for Tawny Milligan. “That’s extreme. Who did she become?”

Carla shrugged. “I have no idea. I guess she wanted to start over, and she wanted to do so without people who knew the truth about her exposing her as a fraud.”

“Maybe she really had changed,” I said.

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” Carla said. “I think she had to have had a very compelling reason to go incognito.”

“What do you think it was?” I asked.

“I’ve always thought she hit the mother lode, you know?” Carla leaned her head back against the sofa and looked up at the ceiling as she spun her tale. “I think she met some fancy-schmancy guy with a lot of money and clout.
Together they came up with a new identity for Tawny so his family would accept her. She changed her name, turned her back on her past—along with everyone she ever knew—and she started living this new life.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Do you think you’d recognize her if you ever saw her again?”

Carla raised her head. “Oh, sure I would. I’d know her anywhere. No amount of plastic surgery could hide those violet eyes, and she was too vain about them to cover them up with contact lenses. She loved having eyes like Elizabeth Taylor’s.”

Roberto looked at his watch and then at his wife. “Babe, we need to talk about costuming. It
is
what we’re here for.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a half smile. “You have to forgive me. I tend to go off on tangents.”

“That’s okay. I do it, too,” I said.

Before Carla and I could go off on a tangent about going off on tangents, Roberto explained that for their current project they would need Depression-era costumes, furniture, and props. “Are you familiar with Madeleine Vionnet?”

“I know she’s famous for bringing the crosscut bias method to the fashion world,” I said.
“Mom has done more gangster films than you can imagine.”

“That’s the type of elegant look we’re going for,” Carla said.

“We’ll also need some glass and dinnerware pieces from that era,” said Roberto. “Do you know where we can find those?”

“This sounds like a huge project, and I’m afraid I couldn’t do you justice.” I stood and walked over to the counter. I wrote Mom’s office number on the back of a Seven-Year Stitch business card and took the card back over to Roberto. “Here. Call Mom. She’ll put you in touch with someone who’ll do a fantastic job for you.”

Roberto and Carla were delighted, and my conscience was a little less burdened for deceiving them about my own costuming skills…or lack thereof.

A
s soon as Roberto and Carla left, I called Sadie to tell her about their visit. “They—or, rather, Roberto—didn’t have much to say about what happened Friday night, but Carla had plenty to say about Tawny Milligan,” I told her. “She and Tawny were friends before Tawny tried to move in on Roberto.”

“I can see where that would definitely put the brakes on a friendship,” Sadie said.

“Get this: Carla said that Tawny’s reputation was so bad by the time she graduated from college that she changed her name. Or, at least, that’s what Carla heard.”

“Which would explain why you couldn’t find her in the white pages.” Sadie’s statement mirrored my earlier thought. “I’ll ask Blake if
he remembers her or knows anything about her. I don’t see why she’d be all that important to finding out who shot Graham, though. I mean, she wasn’t even at the Brew Crew Friday night, was she?”

“I don’t think so. But I still believe she could tell us something important…maybe something about who might’ve had it in for Graham. I’d just really like to talk with her,” I told Sadie.

“Well, like I said, I’ll talk with Blake and see what he says about her.”

“Thanks,” I said, hoping desperately that Blake hadn’t been one of the guys who’d dated Tawny. “After work, I’m meeting with Mark, the personal trainer. And after that, I’m driving to McMinnville to talk with Charles.”

“Wow. You’ve got a busy night ahead of you. Blake and I appreciate everything you’re doing for us,” said Sadie. “And, of course, Todd does too.”

“Uh, yeah.…By the way, I saw Todd strolling down the street hand in hand with Keira.”

“They were holding hands?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm. And that’s fine,” I added quickly. “That’s great. I’m glad they worked out their differences or whatever.”

“I heard Keira ask Todd to do her a favor. Maybe she was taking him…” I could tell Sadie
was struggling to come up with a suitable favor. “… to look at her car or something. Todd is pretty handy with vehicles.”

“Sadie, it’s okay. I guess Todd and I weren’t meant to be.” I gave a short laugh. “I’m beginning to think Angus O’Ruff is the only guy destined to be in my life…at least, for the time being.”

At the sound of his name, Angus lifted his head, cocked it comically to the side, and then flopped it back down with an exaggerated sigh.

Terrific. Even my dog was depressed about my state of affairs—or lack of affairs.

“Since you’ve got to do so much this evening, and you’re doing it for Blake, Todd, and me, why don’t you let me bring you a chicken salad croissant about half an hour before you close up shop?” she asked.

“That would be great,” I said. “Thanks.”

“And while I’m there, I can take Angus on home for you and feed him. That way, you’ll have one less thing to worry about,” she said, reminding me that she had a key to my house.

I’d given her the key when I first moved to Tallulah Falls for safekeeping in case I ever locked myself out…or died inside my house. Sadie or Blake could come to check on me if no one saw me out and about for a couple of days.
Have I mentioned that my imagination sometimes borders on the macabre?

“You’ve got plenty of your own stuff to occupy you,” I said. “It won’t take me that much extra time to get Angus settled.”

“Let me do this for you, Marce. It’s the least I can do.”

“All right.” Maybe she felt the need to do me a favor, since I was helping out with the investigation. She didn’t need to do anything, but maybe she thought she did. “Thanks.”

“I’ll see you in a bit,” she said.

Ending the call, I couldn’t help but wonder—knowing Sadie like I did—just what she had up her sleeve.

The afternoon was zipping along. Several customers had been in—some to browse, some to buy. The latest had bought a set of tapestry needles she planned to use in an attempt to mend the upholstery of an antique chair. I wished her luck, but I was thinking she’d be better off taking the chair to a professional. She was more adventurous than I am. But then, I’ve never been big on upholstery mending.

The bells over the shop door jingled. Lost in my reverie, I half expected it to be the customer
coming back to return the tapestry needles because she’d decided to hire out the job. Instead, it was Ted.

“Earth to Marcy,” he said, grinning at the bemused expression on my face. “Are you in there?”

I smiled. “Yes. I’m here. Hello.”

Angus loped over to greet Ted and to show him his new toy.

“What’ve you got there, Angus?” Ted asked. “A bear?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Vera brought it to him from Washington.” I jerked my head toward the sit-and-stitch square. “Let’s have a seat.”

He accompanied me to the sofa facing the window. “You appeared to be lost in thought when I walked in. What was on your mind?”

“Upholstery, believe it or not.”

Angus lay down near us and busied himself with making the bear squeak.

“Strange thing to be mulling over, I guess. But I prefer it to what I expected you to say.” He smiled at me, and I was struck by how strong and handsome he was. The pale blue dress shirt he wore today complemented his eyes, and a sexy half smile was playing about his lips.

“And what did you expect me to say?” I asked.

“That you were thinking about Graham Stott’s murder.”

“At least one of us was right,” I said with a grin. “Because that’s
exactly
what I expected you to say.”

“Has Todd, Blake, or Sadie confided anything to you about Friday night?”

I shook my head. “I’m as much in the dark as anyone else. I do have a theory, though.”

“Naturally,” he said. “Let’s hear it, Inch-High.”

Inch-High
. Short for Inch-High Private Eye. It wasn’t
beautiful
or
sweetheart
, but it was something. I was glad he was relaxed enough today to joke with me.

“One, I believe both Blake and Todd are innocent but that neither knows for sure what happened and isn’t a hundred percent convinced the other one didn’t pull the trigger,” I said. “But I think the shooter killed Graham and then ran into the bathroom beside the room where Graham was shot.”

Ted pursed his lips. “Let me get this straight. The killer—unseen by either MacKenzie or Calloway—uses Calloway’s gun to shoot Graham Stott. He then tosses the gun onto the floor—still unseen—and goes and hides in the bathroom.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

“Isn’t that what you told me?” he asked, struggling to avoid laughing.

“I said nothing about anyone tossing a gun around,” I said. “That would be stupid.”

“Yeah, it could go off and kill somebody.” This time, he did laugh.

“Are you positive the gun found in the room was the one used to shoot Graham Stott?” I asked.

“The victim was shot with a .38 caliber revolver,” Ted said. “The gun in the room was a .38 revolver—Calloway’s .38 revolver.”

“But has a ballistics test been done?”

He smiled. “You watch too many detective shows, you know that? We need to get you interested in something else.”

“Has it been done?” I asked.

“The major crime team is working on it, but I don’t have a report on it yet,” he said.

“So the gun found in the room has not been positively identified as the murder weapon.” I steepled my fingers.

“There’s a chance it isn’t the murder weapon, Counselor, but it’s a very slim chance,” Ted said. “What are the odds that Calloway and the killer had the same type of gun?”

“Blake has the same type of gun as Todd.” I regretted those words as soon as I uttered them. “What I mean is that .38 revolvers are common…especially around here. I learned that not long after I came to Tallulah Falls.”