The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (20 page)

BOOK: The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery
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“Well, if there is, you’ll find it,” I said.

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in me,” said Ted.

“I do.”

His eyes dropped to my lips. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Todd walk past the window. “Now isn’t the best time.” The phrase
too much of a good thing
crossed my mind.

The shop bells jingled, and Todd brought in my latte. He also handed me a MacKenzies’ Mochas bag. “I thought you might like a muffin.”

“Thanks,” I said. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing. It’s on me.”

Todd and Ted were staring at each other
when Vera walked in. I was relieved she’d broken the tension.

“Whoo-hoo!” she said. “Get a look at Tallulah Falls’ own Marilyn Monroe! And I ain’t talking about Jill. What’s with the transformation?”

Ted and Todd appeared to be as anxious to hear my response as Vera was.

I shrugged. “I just decided to try something new today. Do you like it?”

Both men nodded.

“I love it,” Vera said. “You look marvelous.” She turned to the men. “If you boys are only here to gawk, could you come back a little later? I need some help with my ribbon embroidery project.”

“Sure,” Ted said. “Marcy, I’m glad there’s nothing major wrong with your Jeep. If you need a ride anywhere later, be sure and let me know.”

“All right,” I said. “I appreciate the offer.”

“And I’m free if you need to go somewhere,” Todd said.

“Thanks.” I smiled. “You guys have a wonderful day.”

Vera laughed after they left. “You sure rocked their worlds this morning. Was that your intention?”

“Now, Vera, would I do that? I’m just having a little fun.”

We both burst out laughing.

That afternoon during my three o’clock lull when the customers had dwindled, I called Reggie. We chatted briefly about Manu, and she confirmed to me that he was expected home tomorrow.

“Have you learned anything about Tawny’s mom’s catering business?” I asked.

“It went out of business about five years ago when Tawny’s mom died,” Reggie said. “There was an article about it online at a small Lincoln City daily newspaper. They even ran a photo of Tawny at the cemetery.”

I immediately made a mental note to go to the paper’s Web site and look that up. I told Reggie about Captain Moe’s visit this morning. “He said most everyone believed Tawny’s baby belonged to Graham but that he denied it and dragged Tawny’s name through the mud. Still, if it
was
Graham’s baby, then she might’ve had a motive to kill him.”

“It’s a stretch, but it could be worth pursuing.”

“I’m becoming more and more convinced
that Tawny Milligan was somehow involved in Graham’s death,” I said.

After ending the call, I hurried into the office to look up the site. I’d just pulled it up and did a search for A Special Occasion when Sadie came in.

“Marce, where are you?” she called.

“I’ll be right there.” I minimized the window and went out into the shop.

“Wowza! You’re looking particularly hot today,” she said.

I laughed. “Uh…thanks.”

“So that’s what has the guys in a tizzy.”

“There are guys in tizzies?” I asked.

“No, it’s pretty much the same tizzy, and now I know what it is,” she said. “Ted called and said he knew I was upset with him at the moment but could I just tell him whether it’s your birthday. I told him it wasn’t.”

“Why would he think it’s my birthday?” I asked. “Do I look older?”

“Hear me out,” Sadie said. “Todd came back in after bringing your latte and muffin over this morning and asked if I’d brought you to work this morning. I think he was concerned some Casanova had driven you.” She cocked her head at my skirt. “How
did
you get to work this morning?”

“I took a cab,” I said.

“So, what’s up with the new look? It is a permanent thing?”

“Probably not.” I shrugged. “I simply wanted to try something new today.” I didn’t want to tell her it was spawned in part by being compared with Tawny Milligan and found lacking.

“Well, for the record, I think it worked.” She grinned and shook her head. “I’ve got to get back. Blake’ll probably be over to take a gander at you later.”

As soon as she left, I hurried back to my office and pulled up the article on the death of Mary Milligan, the founder of A Special Occasion catering company. I scrolled down to the photo Reggie had mentioned of Tawny Milligan at the cemetery. Captain Moe had been right. Tawny was attractive, but she wasn’t the stunner I’d imagined her to be. There were people standing in the background, and one man looked like Andy.

I copied and pasted the photo into my picture software so I could enlarge it.

Upon closer inspection, I could see that the man
was
Andy. That wasn’t so far-fetched, though. He would be inclined to pay his respects at his first love’s mother’s funeral.

Standing with him was a little boy who appeared to be four or five years old. Could this be the nephew Andy had spoken of? Or was it Tawny Milligan’s child?

I called the newspaper and asked if the photographer who’d been given credit for the photo was still on staff. He was. I spoke with him and asked him to send me a color JPEG of that photo.

“I’ll be happy to pay you for it,” I said.

“No problem,” he told me. “I’ll send it as soon as I can find it.”

Within thirty minutes, I had the color JPEG of the photo. I enlarged it and could see that both Tawny and the child standing with Andy had the same violet eyes.

Chapter Seventeen

I
looked at my watch and saw that it was nearly four o’clock. I called Andy’s cell phone number, and when he answered, I asked if he could stop by the shop on his way home.

“I have something I want to show you,” I said.

“All right,” he said. “I’m in my car now, so I should be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Great.” I saw a customer—she appeared to be a soccer mom in her early to mid-thirties walking up to the door. “I’ve got to run. See you in a few.” I ended the call and greeted the woman as she stepped into the shop.

She narrowed her eyes as she took in my appearance. “Do you watch that show
Mad Men
?”

“No,” I said, thinking maybe she wanted a
pattern like one she’d noticed on the show or something. “I’ve never seen it. Is it good?”

“I haven’t seen it either.” She gave a little laugh. “I’m usually watching one of the kids’ networks. But I know the fashions from that show are really popular, and I thought…” She trailed off. “Anyway, I’m looking for a beginning embroidery kit for my daughter. She’s twelve, and she’s very creative.”

“Step right this way, and I’ll show you what I’ve got.” I led her over to the embroidery kits. “I have cross-stitch kits that have the pattern stamped onto the fabric—those are good for beginners. And I have ribbon embroidery kits like this one.” I picked up a jewelry box kit that had a stamped pattern that was used to make the top of the box.

“That looks a little hard,” the mom said. She looked at the box thoughtfully. “But it’s really pretty. She’d love it…and she’d be so proud.”

“Ribbon embroidery is easier than it looks,” I assured her. “You can let your daughter try it, and if it’s too difficult for her, just bring it back and I’ll return your money.”

“Really? Thanks.”

“Plus, if she runs into any trouble, just bring her by here, and I’ll help her with it,” I said. “In fact, I have a beginning ribbon embroidery
class currently going on, so I’ve had plenty of practice lately.”

“You offer classes too?” she asked.

“I sure do.” I took a flyer off the stack on the counter and handed it to her.

“Thank you. I will go ahead and take this kit,” she told me. “As I said, my daughter will absolutely love it.”

“And if she doesn’t, feel free to bring it back.”

She paid for her purchase. “You know, I thought you might be a bit eccentric with the way you’re dressed and the mannequin standing at the cash register and everything. But you’re super-nice…and this place is charming.”

I laughed. “Thanks. You’re sweet to say so. And please spread the word about the shop.”

“I will.”

As she took her periwinkle bag and headed down the street, I made a mental note to look up this show
Mad Men
to see who the soccer mom thought I was trying to look like. I hoped I wouldn’t be appalled when I found out.

I had no more time to contemplate it, though, because Andy arrived. The instant he saw me, his jaw dropped.

“Andy? Are you all right?” I asked.

“I have never been better,” he said as he expelled a long breath. “I can’t believe you did
this for me. I mean, I meant it when I told you yesterday that you resemble Marilyn Monroe, but I didn’t intend for you to actually transform yourself into her for me.” He pushed his glasses back up on his face. “I mean, I’m totally glad you did. It was unnecessary, but I’m so flattered. I didn’t realize you liked me this much.”

“Um…whoa, cowboy,” I said, holding up both hands in front of me as Andy advanced toward me. “I didn’t dress this way for you. I was just experimenting with my look this morning, and this is what I came up with.”

“Whatever you say.” He smiled and shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, would you please sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to me? You know, the way Marilyn sang it to JFK—all breathless and sexy?”

“No,” I said.

“Please. You can just sing the last two lines if you’re afraid of someone coming in and interrupting us.”

“No!” I hoped my voice held enough conviction to assure him that I was not now—or ever—going to sing “Happy Birthday” to him…unless it was his birthday. And then I wouldn’t be singing “all breathless and sexy.”

He looked around the shop. “Do you have a water fountain? My mouth has gone so dry I can barely speak.”

“I’ll get you a bottle of water. Stay here.”

“Anything you say,” he said.

When I returned with the bottle of water, he was standing exactly where I’d left him.

I handed the bottle to Andy, and he drank half of it in one gulp. He lowered the bottle and swiped his arm across his mouth.

“Do you have any idea how many fantasies are running through my head right now?” he asked me.

“Not a clue, and I don’t want to know,” I said. “I promise you I did not dress this way in order to seduce you.” Gee whiz! How was I gonna get myself out of
this
mess?

“Maybe on some subconscious level, you did.” He screwed the top back onto the bottle. “Who do you want me to be? Clark Gable? We could play out a scene from
The Misfits.
No, we don’t have that much of an age difference. Thank goodness.” He grinned. “I’ve got it. We could be Cherie and Bo from
Bus Stop…
or—”

“No, Andy.” I held up both hands straight out in front of me like a frazzled traffic cop. “I want us to be you and me. Friends.”

“I’m an idiot,” he said.

I was relieved that I was finally getting through to him.

“I’m sorry.” He took a step closer to me. “Of
course, you want us to be you and me. We aren’t role playing. This is real life.”

I wanted to agree with him but something in the way he said it combined with the look in his eyes made me think I should disagree. “Look. I want to be
friends
with you. I didn’t dress this way to turn your world upside down. I truly didn’t.”

“But you wanted to make sure I saw you this way,” he said. “You made it a point to call me and ask me to stop by.”

“To see something I have in my office,” I said. “It’s a photograph.” I led him to my desk.

I sat down at the computer and pulled up the photograph. “Take a look at this. Does the little boy in this photo belong to Tawny?”

“I’m…not…not sure I can see it well enough to tell.”

I got up and gave him my seat. “Be honest with me, Andy.”

“Fine. Yes,” he said with a sigh. “That’s Drew. He’s Tawny’s son.”

“You were at her mom’s funeral,” I said. “That sort of surprised me. I mean, I hadn’t thought any of the Alpha Sigs had stayed in touch with her.”

“She and I stayed in touch. And a few of the others came to express their condolences to
her—Mark, Charles, and Todd were there. There might’ve been others, but those are the three I remember.”

“How about Graham?” I asked. “Was he there?”

Andy scoffed. “Are you kidding? He couldn’t have cared less if her mother died. He was never interested in her feelings. In fact, he never cared much about anyone’s feelings.”

“Why did Todd invite him to the party if none of you liked him?”

“You’ll have to ask him,” Andy said.

“Is Graham Drew’s father?” I asked.

“That’s another question I don’t know the answer to. When Tawny first got pregnant, she said the baby was Graham’s but he denied it. He said she only wanted money from him.”

I sat down in the chair beside my desk. “Why didn’t she get a paternity test?”

He shrugged. “To save herself and, ultimately, Drew the embarrassment, I imagine. I don’t think she knew for sure who Drew’s father was either.”

“Are you and Tawny still in touch?” I asked. “If Graham
was
the father, then Drew is entitled to his share of the estate.”

“We aren’t in touch anymore.” He sighed heavily.

“Do you think there’s any way she could be involved in Graham’s death? I mean, what if she ran into money problems, confronted Graham about taking care of his child, and maybe they argued. Later, she could’ve got a gun and come back and shot him.”

“That’s impossible,” Andy said.

“Why? People do crazy things when they’re pushed to the edge.”

“Tawny didn’t. She was killed in a car crash in early January. That’s why she and I aren’t in touch anymore.”

“Andy, I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Yeah, me, too. We were best friends. I know that it’s unusual for people who’ve dated or had feelings for each other in the past to use that affection to grow something even stronger, but we did.” He slumped in the chair.

“Wait a second. Why didn’t you tell me any of this earlier? You told me the other night that she was just a girl who cleaned the frat house.”

BOOK: The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery
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