The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (8 page)

Last on my list was Roberto. When I called him, a woman answered.

“Hi, I’m Marcy Singer. May I please speak with Roberto?”

“May I tell him what you want to talk with him about?” she asked. Judging by her territorial tone, she had to be either Roberto’s wife or girlfriend. And it appeared she had some trust issues.

“I run an embroidery shop in Tallulah Falls, and Roberto is a friend of Todd Calloway’s. In fact, Todd introduced us last night. I wondered if you guys could use some costuming help.” Although I didn’t personally do costuming, it was the only even semivalid reason I could come up with to speak with Roberto. The woman didn’t answer right away, so—even though I hated myself for doing it—I said, “My mom is Beverly Singer, the Hollywood costume designer.” Her sharp intake of breath
told me she was familiar with Mom. “While I’m not in the same league as Mom, I’m—”

“Wait,” she interrupted excitedly. “Hold on. I’ll get Roberto.”

In an instant, Roberto had come on the line and said that he and his wife were still in Tallulah Falls—I had called his cell number—and that they’d like to come by the shop and talk with me on Monday. I asked them to come in around lunchtime, since business was usually slower then, and he said he and Carla would be there.

I finished my calls, let Angus inside, and gave him a slice of pizza. I then put the rest of the pizza into the refrigerator. I was getting ready to go upstairs and soak in a nice, hot, scented bath when Ted called.

“How’s everything going?” he asked.

“It’s going.” I took the phone into the living room and stretched out on the sofa.

“It might be going, but it doesn’t sound like it’s going well.”

“Sadie won’t talk to me. She’s just completely shutting me out.” I explained about the coffeehouse incident where she’d made it obvious she wanted me to leave. “I’d help her if she’d let me. When it became apparent she
wouldn’t
allow me to help, I called her mom.”

He chuckled. “You ratted her out to her mom?”

“It wasn’t like that,” I protested. “Somebody needed to be there for Sadie. I thought that, since she was pushing me away, she might let her parents in. But—get this—they didn’t even know Blake had been arrested.”

“This might surprise you,” he said, “but not everybody confides in their parents the way you do to your mom.”

“But Blake was
arrested
, Ted. For
murder
.”

“I know. I was there.”

I huffed. “What I mean is, this is serious. Todd…I mean, Blake…I mean, Todd
and
Blake could go to prison if we can’t prove they didn’t kill Graham Stott. Sadie had to know her parents would find out eventually. Besides, I didn’t
tell
them about Blake. I made some lame comment about Sadie and Blake needing to take a vacation.”

“Oh, well, that’s different. Sadie’s mom would never see through that to determine that something was really wrong.”

“Ha, ha. And, you’re right—she must’ve seen through my call or else found out about Blake some other way because I saw her and Sadie’s dad going into MacKenzies’ Mochas this afternoon.”

“Maybe they saw it on the news,” Ted said. “The simple fact that nobody knows anything hasn’t stopped the media from reporting on it…especially since Graham Stott had so much money and influence around here.”

“I was only trying to help,” I said. “But I probably made matters worse. I owe Sadie an apology. In fact, I should probably hang up now and call her.”

“Yeah, I think you probably should. Have a good night and call me if you need anything.”

“Thanks. Good night.” I ended the call, but I didn’t call Sadie. Instead, I cried. Finally, the emotional toll of the past two days had caught up with me. Todd, Blake, or both men could be facing a lifetime in jail, whether they were innocent or not; sometimes innocence couldn’t be proven. Sadie wasn’t speaking to me. And I had no idea how I could help my friends. I still couldn’t fathom why neither Blake nor Todd had spoken up in defense of themselves and their reason for being in that room with a dead man and a gun.

Angus lumbered over and placed his big scruffy head on my knee. As I stroked his fur, I realized Ted had been noncommittal when I mentioned that we needed to prove that Todd and Blake were innocent. Did he truly believe
one or both of them were guilty? I had to admit, the guys certainly appeared guilty. But they weren’t. I knew in my heart that they weren’t murderers.

The doorbell rang. Angus rushed to the door barking, while I followed somewhat slowly and reluctantly. I dried my eyes before looking through the peephole. It was Sadie. I took a deep breath and opened the door.

“I’m here for the stuff I left behind this morning,” Sadie said, brushing past me into the living room.

“I don’t know what I did to make you so mad at me,” I said as I closed the door. “But I realize I didn’t help matters by calling your mom and telling her you needed a vacation.”

“No, you sure didn’t,” she said. “She called me after talking with you and grilled me until I broke down and told her about Blake. Now, on top of everything else I have to deal with, I’ve got houseguests.”

“Were you mad earlier today because you saw Ted come by the shop?”

She put her fists on her hips. “I wasn’t mad at you, Marcy. Contrary to what you might think, not everyone’s actions revolve around you. I hadn’t even had time to think about you today. I was doing well to put one foot in front
of the other and keep going without breaking down.” She sank onto the ottoman that was directly behind her and began sobbing.

My tears were still close enough to the surface that they spilled out all over the place as soon as Sadie’s started. Not knowing whether I’d be slapped or embraced but willing to take a chance, I went to Sadie and knelt beside her. She hugged me, and we wept together until Angus came and began licking our faces. Laughing, we pulled away from each other and lavished affection on the lanky dog with the bemused expression.

“I’m sorry,” I said at last. “You’re right. I
do
tend to think everything is about me.”

“No, you were right. I was pushing everyone away today. I didn’t want help, and I didn’t want to tell Mom and Dad because that made everything more real to me.” She wiped her eyes. “I keep waiting for this mess to resolve itself.”

“Well, you know me,” I said. “
Wait
isn’t in my dictionary. I’ve already scheduled meetings with the four other fraternity brothers who were at the Brew Crew last night.” I gave her an abbreviated version of my conversations with the men.

“That’s great,” Sadie said. “But why did you
tell Charles the truth when you were so cagey with the rest of them? He could have something to hide, too, you know.”

“I know, but the only way I felt I could get him to cooperate was to make him feel like he had something to gain as well—the story. Actually, I did that with all of them. I’m buying Andy dinner, paying Mark for a personal training session, and—in a roundabout way—offering Roberto the possibility of networking with my mom or some other Hollywood insiders.” I shrugged. “An article was all I had to offer Charles.”

“It seems to have worked.” She smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ll let you know what I find out,” I said. “By the way, do you know a woman named Tawny Milligan?”

“The name sounds vaguely familiar. Why?”

“Robbie told me some of the fraternity brothers had spoken about her, and I’d hoped to contact her to see what she could tell me about Graham. The number I got for her from Todd’s Rolodex had been disconnected, though.”

“We could look her up in the
Beaver
,” Sadie said. She laughed when my eyebrows shot up. “It’s the name of Oregon State’s yearbook. Blake only has the yearbook for the last year he
was at school, but if this Tawny chick was friends with some of the fraternity guys, then she had to have gone to the school and should be in the yearbook. Maybe it would at least tell us where she was from, and we would have something to go on.”

“I’ll mention her to the guys, too,” I said. “That is, if I can find a way to work her into the conversation.” I smiled. “Maybe I could tell Mark I want biceps like Tawny Milligan’s.”

“And, with your luck, she’d have the scrawniest little arms imaginable.”

I walked toward the Brew Crew. There was a thick fog everywhere, and I could barely see. It was crowded—people were scrambling inside for the free green beer because it was Saint Patrick’s Day. I could’ve sworn I saw a leprechaun. I closed my eyes for a moment, and when I opened them, he was gone. Rats. No gold for me.

I heard gunshots. Oh, no! I had to stop it.…I had to keep Graham Stott from being murdered. I had to get to Todd and Blake and tell them…something…tell them not to get involved…tell them to run…tell Todd not to invite his fraternity brothers to this party…tell him…tell them…

I stepped inside and saw all these people: Sadie,
Todd, Blake, Ted, Mr. and Mrs. Van Huss, Andy, Mark, Roberto, Charles, Graham…Oh, thank goodness! He hadn’t been murdered after all. Everything would be all right now. I smiled and said, “Am I glad to see you!”

Suddenly, Mark clanged Graham over the head with a dumbbell. Graham crumpled to the floor as Mark handed the dumbbell to Blake.

No!

The scene shifted, and Graham was once again standing among the crowd. He smiled at me, and I returned his smile, relieved again that he was still living.

“You need to get out of here,” I told him, my smile fading. “Somebody wants to kill you.”

“I know,” he said.

As he uttered those words, Charles took a large number two pencil from his shirt pocket and used it to shoot Graham.

Before I could react, the scene shifted to Roberto, who had a prop gun. The gun actually opened to a flag with
BANG
written on it when the trigger was pulled. And yet, this, too, killed Graham.

Andy bent over Graham’s motionless body to strangle him with calculator tape while Blake and Todd laughed.

The fog rolled in, obliterating the scene. I tried to get back to Graham, hoping to revive him, to make
everything okay somehow. But when the fog cleared, I was once again standing outside the Brew Crew. This time I was behind the barrier erected by the Tallulah Falls Police Department and the major crime team.

“They didn’t do this,” I said. “Todd and Blake are innocent.”

“Tell that to him,” said a uniformed policeman, pointing to Graham Stott, who was standing but still had the calculator tape wrapped around his neck.

Graham looked at me sadly. “He’s got a point. How do you explain it? It’s almost your quintessential closed-door mystery. Two men are in the room with a dead body and a murder weapon. One of the men has to be the murderer, right?”

“No. It isn’t right! The murderer had to get out of that room somehow. Or maybe he—or she—never went in. I just have to figure it out.”

And that’s when I woke up. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom for a cup of water. While I ran the tap water into my cup, I peered at myself in the mirror. If someone else had access to that back room, how
did
he go undetected by both Todd and Blake? After all, if they’d seen the actual killer, they’d have told the police and wouldn’t be in jail now. Right?
Unless they
had
seen the killer and would rather go to jail than say so.

I drank the water and returned to bed. As I settled back under the covers, it dawned on me. There was a bathroom just to the left of that back room. Had the murderer shot Graham Stott, dropped the gun, and then slipped into the bathroom unnoticed? After the shot, both Todd and Blake’s attention would have been on Graham. They would have had a delayed reaction to the shooter while their minds processed the fact that Graham had collapsed and was dying, right? Could that delay have given the killer enough time to blend into a crowd or duck into the bathroom? It was worth looking into.

I
awoke the second time to the phone ringing. My half-open eyes caught sight of the clock, and I saw that it was almost ten on Sunday morning. I could hardly believe I’d slept so late.

“Hello.” I tried not to sound groggy but failed big-time.

“Marcy, this is Robbie. Did I wake you up?”

“Actually, yes, but I’m glad you did. Otherwise, I might’ve slept all day.”

“Are you still up for meeting for brunch?” he asked.

“Of course. Can we meet at MacKenzies’ Mochas in an hour?”

“I’ll be there,” he told me.

I replaced the receiver and hopped out of bed. Why hadn’t Angus woken me up hours ago?

When I stepped into the hall, I saw why—he was lying there on his back still half asleep. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one in the Singer household having trouble dealing with the late hours and emotional turmoil of the past couple of days. He rolled over and yawned.

“You and I need some major R and R,” I told him, noticing the sunlight streaming through the guest room window. “After my brunch with Robbie, you and I are heading to the beach.”

I showered and put on lavender jeans and a purple T-shirt with a small spray of ribbon embroidery violets at the left shoulder. The outfit was a bold fashion statement for sure, but I thought it was cute. Besides, I didn’t want Robbie to overlook me when I went into MacKenzies’ Mochas. No fear of that now.

I slid my feet into a pair of platform sandals before quickly drying my hair and lightly applying some makeup. I hurried downstairs and put Angus into the backyard with a bowl of food and some fresh water.

Just as I got into the Jeep, my cell phone rang. I answered it with one hand and put the key into the ignition with the other.

“Marcy, hi, it’s Ted. You busy?”

“A little. I’m on my way out.”

“I just wanted to apologize for teasing you about ratting Sadie out yesterday,” he said. “I was only joking but it was out of line. I know you’d never do anything to hurt Sadie.”

“Thanks. I apologized to Sadie last night, and we made up.”

“I’m glad.” He paused. “You said you’re on your way out?”