Thread End: An Embroidery Mystery (4 page)

“Not necessarily. But the last I heard, the museum theft was only speculation. Besides, in Tallulah Falls, nothing is ever what it seems at face value.”

I
was turning off the lights in the back of the shop when I heard the bells over the door jingle.

“I’ll be right there!” I called. I didn’t know whether to be glad I had a customer or apprehensive that it was a Nosy Nellie coming to find out more about the body found in the alley. Worse yet, it could be Nosy Nellie
Davis
from the aromatherapy boutique. She might have gathered up enough villagers, torches, and pitchforks to pay me a visit. Come to think of it, she might be willing to take Mom up on the offer of an exorcist because she thought my
cursed
shop was bad for business.

To my relief, when I emerged from the back of the store, I saw Ted playing with Angus.

I laughed. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Ted straightened and pulled me into his arms. “How glad?”

I drew his mouth down to mine and kissed him passionately.

“Wow.” He grinned. “I’d have to say you’re delighted to see me.”

“I am.”

He hugged me tightly. “I’m glad to see you, too, sweetheart. It has been a long, exhausting day.”

“I was going to suggest a picnic on the beach,” I said. “Now I’m thinking pizza and a movie rental might be better.”

Ted cupped my face in his hands and gave me a tender kiss. “You know, I think I’d prefer the picnic if you’re still up for it. That sounds like the perfect way to unwind.”

“I agree. Want to walk down to MacKenzies’ Mochas with me and get the food?”

“Sure. I don’t want you to forget the brownies,” he said. “And we should probably get a peanut butter cookie for Angus.”

At the sound of his name, Angus burrowed between us.

Ted laughed. “I think we can take that as a
yes, we should
.”

Ted and I stepped out the front door, and I locked it. As we walked past the window, Angus barked at us and paced back and forth. I held up an index finger and promised him we’d be back in “one minute.”

“Do you think he understood that?” Ted teased.

“Of course I do. He understands everything I say. We have an almost telepathic relationship.” I looked up at his handsome profile. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Actually, I do,” he said with a smile. “The more I see the two of you together, the more I realize what a special bond the two of you have.”

“Did you ever have a dog growing up?”

He shook his head. “My mom had a poodle, but it died when I was a baby. I can remember having goldfish, a frog, a turtle . . . and my sister had a rabbit . . . but we never got another dog.”

“That’s sad. I mean, do you think your mom just never got over the loss of her poodle?”

“I think she didn’t want the responsibility,” he said. “It was all Mother could do to take care of Tiffany and me.”

“Does she have any pets now?” I asked.

“Nope. She lives in one of those upscale condos where she can make the staff do all her bidding. She loves it.”

At that point, we were at MacKenzies’ Mochas.

Ted opened the door. “After you, my lady.”

Blake was standing at the counter. “Hey, now! Don’t let Sadie see you treating Marcy like a queen! She’ll expect me to step up my game.”

We laughed. Ted and I both knew that Blake already treated his wife like royalty.

“You’re in a punchy mood this afternoon,” I said.

“Sadie and I took the evening off,” he said. “We’d planned on attending the museum exhibit tonight, but we heard it’s been shut down.”

Ted nodded. “Manu is giving a press conference. The museum was robbed, and the majority of the Padgett Collection was taken.”

“That’s terrible. I hope you find the thief. . . . Still,” Blake continued, “a night off is a night off. I’m looking forward to it, no matter what we do.”

Ted and I exchanged glances. I could tell we were wondering the same thing—
should we invite Blake and Sadie to go to the beach with us?
I felt it was entirely Ted’s call. He was the one who’d spent the day investigating a murder while I’d merely meandered around the shop waiting for the nonexistent customers to come in. On the other hand, Blake had rushed to my side this morning immediately after getting Ted’s call.

“We came by for some food to take on a beach picnic,” Ted said. “Would you guys like to join us?”

“That sounds like fun,” Blake said. “Let me check with Sadie.”

When Blake left to find his wife, Ted turned to me and whispered, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I was thinking the same thing but thought you might be too tired to entertain another couple.”

“Angus will entertain all of us,” he said. “Besides, I get the feeling it’ll be a short night, anyway. Blake probably wants to be alone with Sadie almost as much as I want to be alone with you.”

When Blake returned, he was wearing his mock serious expression. He would draw his eyebrows together to try to look severe, but the twinkle in his blue eyes and the fact that his dimpled smile was bursting to reveal itself ruined the effect for him.

“We’ll go on one condition,” he said. “We provide the food . . . no charge.”

“We didn’t invite you along in order to take advantage of your generosity,” I said. “I insist that we pay.”

“And I insist that you don’t. Besides, the invitation really came from Ted.”

“That’s true,” Ted said, with a grin. “And I have no problem whatsoever taking advantage of MacKenzie’s generosity.”

I playfully smacked Ted’s arm while he and Blake shared a fist bump.

“My boy, Angus, wants you to bring him a peanut butter cookie,” Ted told Blake. “So make sure that generosity extends to including a cookie.”

“I’ll bring two just to show you how great a guy I am,” Blake said. “Tell Angus I’ll fix him right up. Do you guys want to meet at the lighthouse in about half an hour?”

“That sounds good,” I said. “I have to feed Angus before we go. If I don’t, he’ll wind up stealing the entire picnic.”

“Then, by all means, feed the little guy, but make sure he saves room for dessert.” Blake winked.

*   *   *

We arrived at the lighthouse right on schedule. Ted was driving my Jeep while I held on to a stack of blankets and Angus hung his head out the window sniffing the salty air. Blake and Sadie were already there setting up our picnic beneath a tent.

“Wow, you guys really outdid yourselves,” I said as I got out of the car and clipped Angus’s leash onto his collar.

“Hey, we like to be prepared for anything,” Blake said. “You want a picnic? I can throw one together for you”—he snapped his fingers—“just like that.”

“Only because we bought that tent to use at a Lincoln City Summer Fair last year and Blake keeps a card table and some folding chairs in the van,” Sadie said.

“To be prepared for anything,” Blake repeated, shaking his head.

“I think you did a great job,” Ted said. “This is a pretty sweet setup. You must have been a Boy Scout, MacKenzie.”

“Since when did you two become the Lone Ranger and Tonto?” Sadie asked.

“What do you mean?” Blake frowned. “We’ve always been friends.”

I could see Sadie’s point. There had been times in the past when Ted and Blake did not always see eye to eye. But, unlike Sadie, Blake had been more accepting of my relationship with Ted.

When I had first moved to Tallulah Falls, Sadie and Blake tried to fix me up with their friend Todd Calloway. He and I had become friends and gone out on the occasional “date,” but I had always had more of a connection . . . more chemistry . . . more everything . . . with Ted. I think Blake had been able to see that all along, but Sadie had held on to her hope that Todd and I would heal each other’s bruised hearts and live happily ever after. But I wound up with Ted, and soon after, Todd began dating Deputy Audrey Dayton.

Angus suddenly drew everyone’s attention away from the small talk by chasing after a seagull. It was especially captivating since I was still holding his extend-a-leash, and he dragged me with him for a few feet until I could get him stopped. He’d had obedience training, but sometimes in his excitement that discipline went out the window.

“Please don’t chase the birds,” I told him once I had him sufficiently distracted by the peanut butter cookie Blake had handed me. The guy really
was
prepared for anything.

“I don’t know,” said Blake. “He has a point in running them off. Those pesky little guys can ruin a picnic in a hurry.”

“Plus, it’s against the law to feed them,” Ted said. “So it’s best that you avoid temptation, Marcy.”

“Oh, that is so true,” Sadie said. “When we were roommates in college, Marce fed everything. She would even leave bread crumbs on the windowsill outside our room for the ants.”

“It was just that one time! Don’t you ever forget anything?” I asked.

“You have to admit, that was pretty unforgettable,” Sadie said, laughter bubbling up in her voice.

“I need to hear more of these college stories,” Ted said.

But as we sat down on the lightly padded blue chairs and began to fill our plates, our conversation turned more serious.

“Someone came into the coffee shop this afternoon and said the textile exhibit had been shut down because the museum was robbed,” Sadie said to Ted. “Is that true?”

Ted nodded. “I was filling Blake and Marcy in on it earlier.” He squeezed a packet of mustard onto his ham sandwich while Angus watched with extreme interest. “I’ll save you a bite, buddy.”

“So the rug that was in the alley this morning”—my appetite waned at the memory—“it
was
the kilim from the exhibit?”

“Yes,” Ted said. “And the victim was Dr. Vandehey.”

Sadie paused with her cup of peach tea halfway to her lips. “Vandehey . . . why does that sound familiar?”

Ted explained how Dr. Vandehey had stolen the newly discovered Cézanne, had confessed to the crime and been pursued by federal authorities, but had avoided capture.

“No, that’s not it. That’s a good story, but I’d never heard it before,” Sadie said, turning to Blake. “I think Vandehey was the name of the man Josh was complaining about the other day.”

“You’re right,” Blake said. “Josh called him Professor Know-It-All.”

“Are you talking about Josh Ingle?” Ted asked.

“The museum curator?” I added.

“Yeah,” Blake said. “Josh thought this Vandehey guy was really obnoxious.”

“Playing devil’s advocate, though, Josh can be pretty sensitive when it comes to his job,” said Sadie, sipping her tea and then putting the cup back down on the table. “See, Josh is working hard on his master’s degree at night, but he currently only has a bachelor’s degree in art history. The board of directors wanted someone with a master’s degree for the position when their current curator retired after thirty years to move to Arizona, but Josh’s uncle persuaded them to give him a chance.”

“Josh’s uncle has deep pockets and is a strong patron of the arts,” Blake said.

“Apparently, Professor Vandehey had a doctorate in art history and—to hear Josh tell it—the man either was or thought he was a genius,” Sadie said. “He corrected Josh on several points while they were walking around the museum, and it not only made Josh feel dumb, but it made the poor guy fear that the board had brought Vandehey in to take his job.”

Ted got out his notebook and pen, flipped the pad open, and wrote something. “I need to find out how long Josh Ingle has been acquainted with Professor Vandehey. If that man has been living in Tallulah Falls under all our noses . . .” He expelled a breath.

“Oh, no, man.” Blake waved a hand. “I don’t think it was like that at all. Josh didn’t start bellyaching about the guy until two . . . maybe three . . . days ago. I think that’s when this Vandehey guy blew into town and started making Josh feel inferior.”

“Do you think Vandehey came to Tallulah Falls to case the museum?” I asked.

“I believe that’s a strong possibility,” said Ted.

“Why would he do that?” I tossed Angus a piece of ham from my sandwich. “He was able to stay under the radar for all this time. . . . I mean, he practically got away with stealing a priceless Cézanne. . . . Why would he risk his freedom by coming here and stealing something else?”

“Maybe he ran out of money,” Blake said. “Who knows how much he got for the Cézanne, but I’m certain it would be nowhere near what the painting was worth since he couldn’t sell it to a legitimate buyer.”

“That’s true,” said Sadie. “And he could hardly apply for a job using his real name and credentials since he was a wanted man.”

Ted was shaking his head. “From what the FBI has divulged to us, Vandehey never sold the Cézanne. He is believed to have given it to a small library somewhere. So far, the bureau has been unable to find it, but they believe it’s in either Canada or Mexico.”

“Then, unless he’s independently wealthy, he would definitely need money,” said Blake.

“Even if he
was
a wealthy man, the government would freeze his assets to force him out of hiding,” Sadie said. “Right, Ted?”

“That’s right.” He handed the final bite of his ham sandwich to Angus, as promised. “I suppose the library that became the unknowing beneficiary of a stolen piece of artwork might have paid Vandehey a small stipend, but it couldn’t have been much.”

“Obviously, I never met the man, but it doesn’t appear to me that Professor Vandehey was a bad guy,” I said. “Yes, he stole a painting. But from what I understand was written in his confession, he simply couldn’t stand for it to be in the home of the unappreciative boor who’d acquired it. Was his taking it wrong? Of course. But it doesn’t strike me as the action of a greedy man.”

“What are you saying?” Sadie asked.

“He doesn’t strike me as the type of person who would come to Tallulah Falls after being on the run for years to steal for the sake of stealing,” I said. “There had to be a compelling reason for him to come here.”

“I agree,” said Ted. “And that reason is what I need to find out in order to determine who killed him.”

“I think when you find your museum thieves, you’ll find your killer,” said Blake.

“You’re probably right,” Ted said. “But I can’t go solely on that presumption or else I might overlook something important.”