The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (23 page)

“But why would you think she’d wait ten years to get her revenge?” Todd asked.

“I thought maybe she or the child needed money for some reason. I’d decided that maybe Tawny had gone to Graham, asked him to do the right thing, he refused, and she thought she’d have a better chance at getting what she needed from him if he was dead.” I spread my hands. “If the father wouldn’t give the child money while he was living, maybe she could get it from his estate.”

“Graham wasn’t the father.”

“I know that
now
,” I said. “Of course, I had to find out from her
dad
because no one else
volunteered the information. How did you know Graham wasn’t the father?”

“He had a dirt bike accident when he was twelve. I was with him.” Todd smiled sadly to himself. “He told me afterwards that he couldn’t get a girl pregnant anymore. And he was thrilled. He was too young to consider the seriousness of that.”

“At twelve, he was happy he couldn’t get a girl pregnant?” I asked.

“We were seeing all the sex ed films in school. He was looking ahead.” He shrugged. “Just stupid kid talk.”

“Who was the father of Tawny’s baby?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You don’t know, or you don’t want to tell me?”

He turned his head slowly toward me. “It isn’t me.”

“I didn’t think it was. Is it Blake?” I asked.

He lowered his eyes. “I doubt it.”

“You doubt it, but you don’t know for sure.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “That’s ancient history. Digging in it now would only jeopardize Blake’s marriage to Sadie.”

I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. “Why in the world did you have to invite
Graham Stott to that stupid party? You knew how much animosity there was between him and most of the other Alpha Sigs. Was it because he’d given you money when you first opened the Brew Crew?”

“No. He offered me money, but I didn’t take it. I didn’t want to be indebted to Graham Stott…or to anyone else, for that matter,” said Todd. “I invited Graham because I felt sorry for him. I wanted to try to get back the friendship we’d had when we were kids.”

“Look how that worked out for you. You’re getting ready to stand trial for his murder,” I said. “And someone else who was in the Brew Crew last Friday night—maybe another of your Alpha Sig brothers—is more than happy to stand by and let you and Blake take the blame.” I was so angry that I was a little out of control. “The two of you need to start helping the police figure out who killed Graham, or else you’re going to be serving life sentences in prison!”

Todd’s chocolate-colored eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched. “Are you doubting the valiant Detective Nash? Do you no longer think your hero can swoop in and save the day?”

“I believe Ted is an excellent detective, but he didn’t know Graham Stott. You and Blake did,
and you’d better start feeding Ted some possible leads. Take responsibility for your life, Todd!”

“Fine.” He got up and strode out the door.

Angus peeped timidly out from behind the other sofa.

I heaved a deflated sigh. “It’s all right, baby.”

He trotted over and sat down at my feet. I kissed the top of his head and gave him a hug. It’s wonderful to have a friend who always loves you no matter what.

Later that afternoon I was restocking monk’s cloth, Aida fabric, and items (such as towels, baby bibs, and blankets) with spaces for embroidering. The phone rang, and it was Mom.

“You might not want to talk with me today,” I warned her. “I’ve made everyone else I’ve talked to angry.”

“Oh, darling, you could never make me angry,” she said.

“And you shouldn’t lie. At least, that’s what you always told me.”

“Okay, so you can make me angry. I’ll take my chances. What have you done to everyone else?” she asked.

“It’s this stupid murder investigation.”

“Which you should probably not be involved
in, but that’s beside the point,” Mom said. “I know you can’t help yourself. Please continue.”

I told her about how I’d been so sure this Tawny Milligan had been involved with the murder somehow, especially since I found out she was pregnant presumably with Graham Stott’s child when she left Tallulah Falls. “But now I don’t know
who
the father is—not that it has any bearing on this investigation at this point—and I’ve wasted my time chasing leads that don’t matter. And, on top of that, I made Todd angry this morning by telling him he needed to take responsibility for his life and help the police find out who really killed Graham.”

“Well, he
does
need to take the wheel on this, darling. You were right. And as for Tawny, don’t count out the vengeance of a woman scorned even from the grave,” Mom said. “Remember that movie I worked on,
Vengeance from the Grave
?”

“I remember.” And, unfortunately, I did. That movie had been a real stinker. “But I don’t think Tawny Milligan came back as a zombie and shot Graham Stott.”

“That’s beside the point. All I’m saying is that just because Tawny’s child didn’t belong to Graham doesn’t mean that the Alpha Sigs’ past didn’t factor into the shooting,” she said.
“Now, granted, it could’ve been a random thing carried out by a stranger, but I doubt it. Sometimes old resentments fester until they simply explode with no further warning.”

“I guess that’s true. But, Mom, what if Blake is the father of Tawny Milligan’s child?” I asked.

“If he is, then what he’ll do about it is up to him, love. And it will be up to Sadie to decide whether or not she cares about him enough to stand by him no matter what he decides. If it’ll make you feel better, talk with Blake privately and ask him if he thinks it’s possible the boy is his. He might not have even considered it a possibility.”

After we hung up, I called MacKenzies’ Mochas. I’d already decided that if Sadie answered, I’d tell her I’d made Todd angry and ask her whether she thought I should give him some space or try to make up. If Blake answered, I could ask him to come over and talk with me when he got a chance. Fortunately for me, Blake answered.

“Hi,” I said. “How’s it going?”

“Okay. You need Sadie?” he asked.

“No, actually, I want to talk with you. Privately. Could you come to the shop when you get time?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He drew the word out. “What’s up?”

“I’ll explain when you get here.”

While I waited for Blake to arrive, I worked on the Mountmellick piece. I was couching the petals of a daisy when he walked in.

His face showed his concern as he looked around the shop to see what might be wrong.

“Please come and sit down with me,” I said as Angus bounded over to Blake to be petted.

“Okay.” He patted Angus absently and came to sit on the red club chair opposite me. “What’s going on, Marce? You’re freaking me out.”

“Is there any possibility you could be the father of Tawny Milligan’s child?”

He ran his hand over the lower portion of his face. “Why are you asking me about that?”

I explained that after I’d learned about Tawny’s pregnancy and shoddy treatment by Graham, that I was convinced Graham was the father of her child and that she’d been involved in his shooting. “But then I found out Graham wasn’t the father of Tawny’s baby.”

“I repeat—why are you asking me about it?”

“Because if you are, I thought you—and Drew—had the right to know,” I told him. “You don’t have to do anything about it if he
is
your son, but I thought you should know in case he is.”

His jaw worked, and he gripped the arms of the chair.

“Say something,” I said at last.

“Um, all righty.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. “I’ll jump up from here and rush down the street to tell my wife—with whom I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to father a child—that I might already have a son by another woman. She’ll be ever so delighted!”

“So you’re thinking Drew
is
yours?” I asked.

“I don’t know what to think. Could a one-night stand with Tawny Milligan when I was on a break with Sadie result in a child? Possibly. Could it destroy my marriage if Sadie ever finds out? Definitely.” He stood. “I’ve got to get out of here and clear my head. If Sadie calls, tell her I had to run an errand. I’ll think up something to tell her later.”

Fantastic. More lies.

I needed to do something to fix this. I didn’t want to be responsible for Blake and Sadie’s marriage falling apart. Although, technically, the events that would be responsible for that wouldn’t be
my
fault, but I’d be the one who set the revelation of them in motion.

I called Charles Siegel. When he answered, I quickly asked him to please not hang up.

“What is it?” he asked impatiently.

“Is Blake MacKenzie Drew’s biological father?” I asked.

“Why don’t you ask him that?”

“I did,” I admitted. “He says it’s possible. But I thought that maybe your wife had told you the truth, and I’m praying the father is someone other than Blake.”

“Marcy, why do you keep prying into this?” His voice sounded plaintive.

“I don’t know. I honestly wish I hadn’t. I just thought that if there was any way Blake could be the father, he should know he had a child in the world,” I said. “And that Drew might need his biological father sometime too. I mean, what if Drew had some sort of physical condition, or…”

“You’re stretching,” he said gently. “My wife went through a time of confusion and experimentation when she was younger. To put it another way, she sowed her wild oats.” He sighed. “She wasn’t sure who the father of her baby was. Tell Blake to let it go.”

“I wish I could.”

“What do you mean?” His tone had lost its gentleness and now had an edge to it.

“I just talked with Blake about it, and he rushed out of here,” I said. “I don’t know where he went.”

I
spent the next couple of hours leaving messages on Blake’s cell phone, working on the Mountmellick piece, waiting on customers, and feeling rotten. When Ted walked in at about two thirty and asked how I was doing, I burst into tears.

He rushed to my side and gathered me into his arms. “Marcy, what is it?”

“I should never have gotten involved in this murder investigation. I should’ve trusted you and the rest of the crime team to do your jobs.” I gulped. “But I was afraid nobody else believed Blake and Todd were innocent, and now I don’t have any friends anymore, and I’ve probably destroyed Blake and Sadie’s marriage.” I ended on a wracking sob.

Ted kissed my temple while Angus simultaneously licked my ankle.

“Come on,” Ted said in a soothing voice. “It’s not all that bad, is it? You’ve still got Angus and me.”

“It’s awful, Ted. I’ve messed everything up. I meddled where I didn’t have any business, and it only stirred up a lot of trouble. It didn’t even help anything.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You always meddle where you don’t have any business. This situation can’t be any worse than some of the others you’ve found yourself in.”

I pushed back to look up at him indignantly.

“What?” he asked with mock naïveté. “I was only trying to help.” He pulled me back into his embrace.

I nestled against him, wishing I could stay hidden in his arms until all this mess had resolved itself…in a miraculously good way.

Ted must have felt me relax, because he decided this was a good opportunity to tease me. “Yesterday I came in here and found Marilyn Monroe. Today, it was Lucy Ricardo.”

I chuckled. “Which one did you like the best…or do I even have to ask?”

“I like Marcy Singer the best,” he said. “I’ve missed that young woman.”

“She’s missed you,” I said.

“You wanna talk about what made you have a meltdown now that you’re feeling better?” Ted asked.

“Not really. Just tell me you’re considering other leads in the case and that you aren’t convinced that Blake and Todd killed Graham.”

“All right. I’m considering other leads in the case because I’m not entirely convinced that Blake and Todd killed Graham.” He paused. “How was that?”

“Did you mean it?”

“I meant it.” His voice had both deepened and softened. He either meant it, or he was trying really, really hard to make me feel better.

“Thank you.” I sat back so I could look into Ted’s clear blue eyes.

He grabbed a tissue from the coffee table and wiped the mascara from beneath my eyes. “We don’t want some customer coming in and thinking you’re the president of the Alice Cooper fan club.”

“How do you know I’m not?” I asked. “By the way, welcome to my nightmare.”

“If I have my way about it, you’ll be having sweet dreams again before you know it.” He smiled. “By the way, are you free for dinner on Sunday?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

“I’m glad. Pick you up at six?” he asked.

“That sounds great.”

As soon as Ted had left, I hurried to the bathroom to wash my face and put on fresh makeup. It was a good thing I kept a makeup kit in my office. It had certainly come in handy this week. I was putting the finishing touches on my face when I heard the shop door’s bells jingle. I half hoped it was Blake, but I half hoped it was anyone else…other than Sadie. I called that I’d be right out.

“Take your time,” Vera called. Her voice became a falsetto. “How’s my handsome boy? How is he? Does he like his new toy? Hmm? Oh, you’re such a sweet baby.”

I stepped into the shop and saw that Vera had taken a seat on the sofa, and Angus was sitting at her feet with his head in her lap.

“Angus,” I chided gently. “I doubt Vera wants long gray hairs all over her clothes.”

“Now, you leave him alone,” she said. “He’s just fine.” She reached into her tote bag and brought out her ribbon embroidery project she was working on. “I need some help with these infernal spider-web roses. I can’t do them right to save my life.”

I sat down beside her. “Let me see you make one.”

I watched as she carefully outlined the “spider web” or “wagon wheel” with yellow embroidery thread. She then took her yellow satin ribbon and began working it through the spokes.

“Slow down,” I said.

She looked up. “What?”