Better Off Thread, page 5
At a little before one, I put the cardboard clock on the door saying I’d be back in half an hour, locked up, and then headed down the street toward MacKenzies’ Mochas. Angus ran back and forth in front of the window as if to say, “Hey, aren’t you forgetting somebody?” I silently promised him a peanut butter cookie for his trouble . . . again. I’d vocalized the promise before locking him up in the Seven-Year Stitch with only Jill and his Kodiak bear for company. Trust me, I wasn’t any happier about the arrangement than he was.
I walked into MacKenzies’ Mochas, where Veronica and Tiffany were already waiting for me. As always, Veronica looked as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She wore pink slacks, a cropped pink-and-white tweed jacket, and taupe heels. I was relieved to see that, like me, Tiffany was wearing jeans. However, she also wore an emerald jersey wrap blouse, a strand of pearls, and silver ballet flats.
Sadie, for whom I’d been an open book since college, read my expression effortlessly. She came out from behind the counter, hugged me, and said, “Marcy, how beautiful you look! May I show you ladies to a table?”
I love you. I hoped she could read that on my face as easily as she’d seen my discomfort in comparing myself to the glamazons.
She winked. Message received. She showed us to a table and said she’d send our waitress right over.
“I’m so glad you could join us,” Veronica said.
“Me, too,” I said. “Where are Jackson and Mark today?”
“They’re having guy time.” Veronica smiled. “I imagine that means they’re lying on the floor, playing with Jackson’s toy cars, and that we’ll find them asleep there when we return. How’s your friend the captain? Have you spoken with him today?”
“Not today.” I opened my mouth to say something more, but then I closed it.
“Let me guess,” said Veronica. “Everyone, including my precious firstborn, is telling you not to meddle and to allow the police to do their jobs.”
I nodded. “That would be easier to do if Ted was on Captain Moe’s case. He’s the best detective there is.”
Our waitress arrived, took our orders, and then scurried away.
“And yet you still felt the need to defend Ted when you thought he was in danger?” Tiffany asked.
That got my hackles up. “Yes, I did. At that time, I thought the man was drawing a gun, and I didn’t think Ted had backup.”
“You could’ve been shot,” Tiffany said.
“That thought never even crossed my mind. All I could think of was protecting Ted.” I looked at Veronica. “He was so angry with me.”
“Because all he could think of was protecting you.” She chuckled.
“Jennifer would’ve hidden and let the chips fall wherever,” said Tiffany.
“What was she like?” I asked.
“She was a total b—”
“Ah-ah.” Veronica interrupted her daughter. “We don’t speak ill of the dead.”
I gasped. “Jennifer is dead?”
“She is to us,” said Veronica. “And she isn’t worth talking about and ruining our lunch. Let’s talk about Captain Moe and how we can help him.”
I smiled slightly. “I think you’ve done a lot already. By asking Ted if we could have lunch alone today, you gave him the green light to go to Tallulah County to look into the case himself.”
“Good. But what can we do?”
Before Veronica could speculate further, our waitress brought our drinks. “Your food will be out in just a few minutes.”
We thanked her, and Veronica continued.
“The big question here is, Who would want this Sandra Vincent dead? And, of course, we need to determine whether his or her motivation was business or personal.”
“Or a bit of both,” I said. “In Ms. Vincent’s position, one bad business decision could cost several patients their lives, right? I mean, fire a competent doctor and many patients suffer.”
“Or keep an incompetent doctor and patients die, too,” said Tiffany.
“How dreadful.” Veronica took a sip of her tea.
“You know Vera Langhorne,” I said to Veronica, and she nodded slightly. “She’s gone to volunteer at Tallulah County General today to see what she can learn about Ms. Vincent.”
“Keep us updated on her findings,” Veronica said.
As I promised to do so, our food arrived. We spent the rest of the meal in companionable chitchat about the weather and other trivial subjects. But I knew it had to be in the backs of all our minds that there was a killer on the loose and that none of us wanted Captain Moe blamed for a murder he didn’t commit.
* * *
Angus forgave me for my absence once I’d given him his peanut butter cookie. I hadn’t been back at the Stitch long when Sadie arrived.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
I explained how Veronica had called and had wanted to have lunch, just us girls. “I was so nervous. I met Tiffany and her family on Thanksgiving, but I can’t get her to warm up to me at all. She did seem a bit friendlier today, though.”
“What does she do for a living?”
“She’s an elementary-school teacher. She and her husband, Mark—who is an industrial engineer—have a gorgeous son named Jackson. He’s two years old.”
“That’s right. I saw them at the event at the hospital the other night. Do they live here in Tallulah Falls?” Sadie asked.
“No, they live in Washington, not far from Seattle, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I didn’t think I’d seen her in MacKenzies’ Mochas before. How long will they be in town?”
“They’re staying with Veronica until this coming Sunday,” I said.
“So just a few more days.” She patted Angus’s head. “How’d you like your cookie, Angus? Blake made sure you got the biggest one in the case.”
“He inhaled it. Thanks . . . for everything.”
“You’re welcome. I could tell you were on edge. You can’t let people make you feel inferior, Marce.”
“I know. It’s just that she’s Ted’s sister, and I want her to like me.”
“Whether she does or not, Ted loves you.”
“I know. But I want her to know I’m not like Ted’s ex-wife, Jennifer.”
“I never knew Jennifer, but I would almost bet you’re absolutely nothing like her. Be yourself. If Tiffany doesn’t like you, you’ve always got me. And Angus. And Jill.” She grinned. “Gotta get back. I’ll talk with you later.”
I was still smiling at Sadie’s parting comments when Ted called.
“Hey, babe. How was lunch?”
“It was good. How was your lunch?”
“Fine. I met with a friend who’s with the Tallulah County Police Department. I’m afraid that, so far, they don’t have many suspects in Sandra Vincent’s death.”
I let out a breath. “Oh no.”
“But they’re actively investigating. It’s only been a day. They’re literally at the beginning of the investigation, and they have a lot of ground to cover. I merely wanted to see if there was some glaring suspect that would almost immediately exonerate Captain Moe.”
“And there’s not,” I said.
“No. But, again, they’re still looking. And they’ll find whoever killed this woman.”
“I so wish you and Manu were on this case,” I said. “I don’t trust Captain Moe’s fate to detectives Ray and Bailey.”
“I know you don’t. But they’re good at their jobs. Have a little faith, all right?”
I mumbled that I’d try.
“About Tiffany,” he said softly. “She’s younger than me, but she’s always been part mother hen and part guard dog where I’m concerned. She’ll warm up to you.”
“I know.”
“Hey, you won Mom over. That was no small feat.”
I laughed. “I know that, too. Don’t forget we’re decorating my tree this evening.”
“I haven’t forgotten. Mine looks beautiful. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
A customer came in, so I ended the call and introduced myself. “Welcome to the Seven-Year Stitch.”
The woman was in her late thirties, and she loved Angus on sight. “What a cool dog! What kind is he?”
I told her Angus was an Irish wolfhound and gave her a bit of background about how I’d rescued him from a puppy mill.
“The reason I stopped in,” she said at last, “is to ask you about something called stump work. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I do. Stump work is a form of raised embroidery. It has something of a three-dimensional effect.”
“Well, my grandmother loves embroidery—this stump work, in particular—and I wanted to make her a little something for Christmas. I know that might not be possible, with it being so close to December.”
“If you do something small like a Christmas ornament, I think you’ll have plenty of time,” I said.
“Is it hard to do?” she asked.
“Not really.” I got her the necessary supplies and invited her to sit with me on the sofa. After an hour and a half, she was well on her way to creating an adorable ornament for her grandmother, despite my having to stop and wait on customers throughout the time we were working.
In fact, we were still working when Vera came in, sat on one of the red club chairs, and put her feet up on the ottoman.
“I’m pooped,” she said.
I introduced Vera to my customer, who I now knew as Jane. “Vera has been volunteering at Tallulah County General Hospital today,” I said.
“I hate that place.” Jane looked at Vera. “No offense.”
“None taken, dear. After today, I feel much the same way. Did you ever work there?”
“No, but my husband is a contractor. He had the absolute lowest bid for their cancer ward, and his company was shot down. He was told that the job was given to a more experienced company.” She shook her head. “But when Aaron did some digging, he learned that the other company wasn’t more experienced than his. He made a stink about it and wound up getting blackballed. He couldn’t get work anywhere in Tallulah County, and we wound up having to move closer to Lincoln City for him to be able to get back on track.”
“What a shame.” I exchanged glances with Vera. “That’s so unfair.”
“Unfair and, I’d venture to say, unethical,” said Jane. “I can’t help but wonder what other shady practices were going on at that hospital.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, goodness. I’d better run. I have to pick up my daughter from school.”
Jane gathered up her materials and I went over to the counter and got a periwinkle bag to put them in. After ringing up Jane’s purchases, we all said our good-byes. I told Jane to come back if she needed any further assistance.
Once she’d left, I went back and sat down across from Vera. “That was interesting.”
“Wasn’t it? I wish we knew the name of the company that got the contract Jane’s husband was bidding on,” she said.
“I imagine that’s a matter of public record.”
“I’ll put Paul to work on it.” Vera gave me a sage nod. “If anyone can find out, he can.”
“Great. What did you find out at the hospital today?”
“I found out that being a volunteer is hard work, that patients are demanding, and that some of the staff can be downright picky about handouts.” She affected a whiny voice. “Well, I like that magazine, but don’t you have this one or that one?” She rolled her eyes before resuming her normal tone. “I also learned that Sandra Vincent was something of a chameleon and that people either loved her or hated her—there wasn’t much ambivalence. I gathered that information by offering freebies to the whiny staff members.”
“Good thinking. Give me some examples about Ms. Vincent. Which people hated her, and which people loved her?”
“Well, that’s just it,” said Vera. “I can’t narrow it down to groups, like all the doctors I spoke with hated her but the nurses loved her. Each individual—no matter what purpose they serve at the hospital—either hated Sandra and, although not happy that she’s dead, weren’t shedding any tears over her, or loved her and couldn’t believe she was gone.”
“So, you didn’t really come up with any suspects, either?”
“No.” She frowned. “Wait. What do you mean, either?”
I told her about Ted having lunch with a friend who worked with the TCPD. “Their only real suspect right now is Captain Moe.”
Chapter Seven
After Vera left, I called Tallulah County General Hospital and asked the nurse in charge of the pediatric ward if I could come in tomorrow after work and read to the children. I even volunteered to wear the elf costume.
“I have to return the costume, anyway, and I thought I might make use of it one more time before saying good-bye to it.”
“I think that’s a charming idea, Ms. Singer, and the children would love it. Could you be here at six thirty tomorrow evening?”
“I certainly can. I’ll look forward to it.”
I had a customer come in immediately after speaking with the nurse. Once she’d finished browsing and had made her purchase, I called Riley.
“Hi, Marcy.” She sounded tired. I wondered if she’d been up with the baby the night before or if it was worry about Captain Moe that was draining her. I debated asking, but then decided it was better if I didn’t.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’m okay.”
“I know you’re busy, and I won’t keep you but a minute, but I wanted you to know that everyone is rooting for Captain Moe. Vera even went to the hospital today to do some recon.”
Riley laughed. “That’s sweet. Did it do any good?”
“Not really. She said that everyone either hated or loved Sandra Vincent. Apparently, there was no middle ground where this woman was concerned.”
“Still, the only suspect the Tallulah County Police Department has in their crosshairs seems to be my uncle.”
“I know. But Ted says the investigation is in its infancy. I’m sure the real suspect will turn up soon.”
She sighed. “I hope you’re right, but the longer the police go without a more viable suspect, the guiltier Uncle Moe looks. I’m just grateful he hasn’t been charged yet. All the evidence they have against him is circumstantial at this point—anyone could have walked into that room and discovered Sandra Vincent’s body.”
“Exactly.”
“And yet I’m concerned that the hospital is pressuring the police to make an arrest.”
“Have you talked with your dad?” I asked.
Riley’s dad, Norman Patrick, was also an attorney. Unfortunately, he was currently incarcerated in a minimum-security prison for fraud. He was halfway through his three-year sentence.
“I spoke with him last night,” she answered. “He’s upset, of course. He wishes he could be here to help. I promised to consult him every step of the way. I did assure him that Uncle Moe hasn’t been arrested and that all this worry might be for nothing, but he knows me better than that. Had I not been worried, I wouldn’t have called him.”
“I’ve volunteered to read to the children as Marcy the Elf tomorrow evening. I’ll see what I can find out about Sandra Vincent while I’m there. We’ll get Captain Moe out of this. I know we will.”
“I wish I had your optimism. I just get the feeling there’s something Uncle Moe isn’t telling me— something that’s going to come back and bite us all. I know him, and he’s hiding something.”
* * *
When I got home, Ted was already there. He’d gone up to the attic, brought down my Christmas tree, and had it ready for us to decorate.
“I wasn’t sure where you wanted it,” he said. “That’s why it’s here in the foyer.”
I smiled. “Let’s take it to the living room and put it in the corner next to the fireplace.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Have you had a good day?” I asked.
“I’ve missed you. Other than that, it was all right, I guess. What about you?”
“It was okay.” As I followed Ted and the tree into the living room, I went on to tell him about talking with Vera and Riley about Captain Moe’s case. “Neither of them is hopeful about the police finding another suspect, but the only evidence against Captain Moe is circumstantial.”
“It’s too soon to start jumping to conclusions. I’d have thought Riley, at least, would realize that.”
“I believe she does. But this is her uncle we’re talking about.”
“That’s true. What do you say we get to decorating this tree and leave our worries behind for a little while?”
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Sounds good to me.”
While we unpacked the ornaments and began putting them on the tree, I told him the significance of each one.
I held up a small porcelain angel. “This one was a gift to me from the late, great McDonald Murphy.”
Ted raised his brows. “The Solitary Cowboy?”
“That’s the one. Mom worked on a television show in the mid-eighties, and Mr. Murphy came on as a guest star. I was about four years old then. I don’t remember it, but Mom said she took me to work one day and that Mr. Murphy thought I was the cutest thing ever.” I gave Ted what I hoped was a coquettish smile. “He said I was a little angel.”
“If he could see you now . . .”
I huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if he could see you now, he’d realize how right he was.” Ted rolled his eyes.
I laughed. “Anyway, he gave this to Mom and asked her to pass it along to me. And whenever I’m flipping through channels and see that The Solitary Cowboy is on the oldies station, I watch for a few minutes and remember that distinguished gentleman cowboy thought I was an angel. So there.” I hung the angel on the tree.
I walked into MacKenzies’ Mochas, where Veronica and Tiffany were already waiting for me. As always, Veronica looked as if she’d just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She wore pink slacks, a cropped pink-and-white tweed jacket, and taupe heels. I was relieved to see that, like me, Tiffany was wearing jeans. However, she also wore an emerald jersey wrap blouse, a strand of pearls, and silver ballet flats.
Sadie, for whom I’d been an open book since college, read my expression effortlessly. She came out from behind the counter, hugged me, and said, “Marcy, how beautiful you look! May I show you ladies to a table?”
I love you. I hoped she could read that on my face as easily as she’d seen my discomfort in comparing myself to the glamazons.
She winked. Message received. She showed us to a table and said she’d send our waitress right over.
“I’m so glad you could join us,” Veronica said.
“Me, too,” I said. “Where are Jackson and Mark today?”
“They’re having guy time.” Veronica smiled. “I imagine that means they’re lying on the floor, playing with Jackson’s toy cars, and that we’ll find them asleep there when we return. How’s your friend the captain? Have you spoken with him today?”
“Not today.” I opened my mouth to say something more, but then I closed it.
“Let me guess,” said Veronica. “Everyone, including my precious firstborn, is telling you not to meddle and to allow the police to do their jobs.”
I nodded. “That would be easier to do if Ted was on Captain Moe’s case. He’s the best detective there is.”
Our waitress arrived, took our orders, and then scurried away.
“And yet you still felt the need to defend Ted when you thought he was in danger?” Tiffany asked.
That got my hackles up. “Yes, I did. At that time, I thought the man was drawing a gun, and I didn’t think Ted had backup.”
“You could’ve been shot,” Tiffany said.
“That thought never even crossed my mind. All I could think of was protecting Ted.” I looked at Veronica. “He was so angry with me.”
“Because all he could think of was protecting you.” She chuckled.
“Jennifer would’ve hidden and let the chips fall wherever,” said Tiffany.
“What was she like?” I asked.
“She was a total b—”
“Ah-ah.” Veronica interrupted her daughter. “We don’t speak ill of the dead.”
I gasped. “Jennifer is dead?”
“She is to us,” said Veronica. “And she isn’t worth talking about and ruining our lunch. Let’s talk about Captain Moe and how we can help him.”
I smiled slightly. “I think you’ve done a lot already. By asking Ted if we could have lunch alone today, you gave him the green light to go to Tallulah County to look into the case himself.”
“Good. But what can we do?”
Before Veronica could speculate further, our waitress brought our drinks. “Your food will be out in just a few minutes.”
We thanked her, and Veronica continued.
“The big question here is, Who would want this Sandra Vincent dead? And, of course, we need to determine whether his or her motivation was business or personal.”
“Or a bit of both,” I said. “In Ms. Vincent’s position, one bad business decision could cost several patients their lives, right? I mean, fire a competent doctor and many patients suffer.”
“Or keep an incompetent doctor and patients die, too,” said Tiffany.
“How dreadful.” Veronica took a sip of her tea.
“You know Vera Langhorne,” I said to Veronica, and she nodded slightly. “She’s gone to volunteer at Tallulah County General today to see what she can learn about Ms. Vincent.”
“Keep us updated on her findings,” Veronica said.
As I promised to do so, our food arrived. We spent the rest of the meal in companionable chitchat about the weather and other trivial subjects. But I knew it had to be in the backs of all our minds that there was a killer on the loose and that none of us wanted Captain Moe blamed for a murder he didn’t commit.
* * *
Angus forgave me for my absence once I’d given him his peanut butter cookie. I hadn’t been back at the Stitch long when Sadie arrived.
“What was that all about?” she asked.
I explained how Veronica had called and had wanted to have lunch, just us girls. “I was so nervous. I met Tiffany and her family on Thanksgiving, but I can’t get her to warm up to me at all. She did seem a bit friendlier today, though.”
“What does she do for a living?”
“She’s an elementary-school teacher. She and her husband, Mark—who is an industrial engineer—have a gorgeous son named Jackson. He’s two years old.”
“That’s right. I saw them at the event at the hospital the other night. Do they live here in Tallulah Falls?” Sadie asked.
“No, they live in Washington, not far from Seattle, if I’m not mistaken.”
“I didn’t think I’d seen her in MacKenzies’ Mochas before. How long will they be in town?”
“They’re staying with Veronica until this coming Sunday,” I said.
“So just a few more days.” She patted Angus’s head. “How’d you like your cookie, Angus? Blake made sure you got the biggest one in the case.”
“He inhaled it. Thanks . . . for everything.”
“You’re welcome. I could tell you were on edge. You can’t let people make you feel inferior, Marce.”
“I know. It’s just that she’s Ted’s sister, and I want her to like me.”
“Whether she does or not, Ted loves you.”
“I know. But I want her to know I’m not like Ted’s ex-wife, Jennifer.”
“I never knew Jennifer, but I would almost bet you’re absolutely nothing like her. Be yourself. If Tiffany doesn’t like you, you’ve always got me. And Angus. And Jill.” She grinned. “Gotta get back. I’ll talk with you later.”
I was still smiling at Sadie’s parting comments when Ted called.
“Hey, babe. How was lunch?”
“It was good. How was your lunch?”
“Fine. I met with a friend who’s with the Tallulah County Police Department. I’m afraid that, so far, they don’t have many suspects in Sandra Vincent’s death.”
I let out a breath. “Oh no.”
“But they’re actively investigating. It’s only been a day. They’re literally at the beginning of the investigation, and they have a lot of ground to cover. I merely wanted to see if there was some glaring suspect that would almost immediately exonerate Captain Moe.”
“And there’s not,” I said.
“No. But, again, they’re still looking. And they’ll find whoever killed this woman.”
“I so wish you and Manu were on this case,” I said. “I don’t trust Captain Moe’s fate to detectives Ray and Bailey.”
“I know you don’t. But they’re good at their jobs. Have a little faith, all right?”
I mumbled that I’d try.
“About Tiffany,” he said softly. “She’s younger than me, but she’s always been part mother hen and part guard dog where I’m concerned. She’ll warm up to you.”
“I know.”
“Hey, you won Mom over. That was no small feat.”
I laughed. “I know that, too. Don’t forget we’re decorating my tree this evening.”
“I haven’t forgotten. Mine looks beautiful. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
A customer came in, so I ended the call and introduced myself. “Welcome to the Seven-Year Stitch.”
The woman was in her late thirties, and she loved Angus on sight. “What a cool dog! What kind is he?”
I told her Angus was an Irish wolfhound and gave her a bit of background about how I’d rescued him from a puppy mill.
“The reason I stopped in,” she said at last, “is to ask you about something called stump work. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“I do. Stump work is a form of raised embroidery. It has something of a three-dimensional effect.”
“Well, my grandmother loves embroidery—this stump work, in particular—and I wanted to make her a little something for Christmas. I know that might not be possible, with it being so close to December.”
“If you do something small like a Christmas ornament, I think you’ll have plenty of time,” I said.
“Is it hard to do?” she asked.
“Not really.” I got her the necessary supplies and invited her to sit with me on the sofa. After an hour and a half, she was well on her way to creating an adorable ornament for her grandmother, despite my having to stop and wait on customers throughout the time we were working.
In fact, we were still working when Vera came in, sat on one of the red club chairs, and put her feet up on the ottoman.
“I’m pooped,” she said.
I introduced Vera to my customer, who I now knew as Jane. “Vera has been volunteering at Tallulah County General Hospital today,” I said.
“I hate that place.” Jane looked at Vera. “No offense.”
“None taken, dear. After today, I feel much the same way. Did you ever work there?”
“No, but my husband is a contractor. He had the absolute lowest bid for their cancer ward, and his company was shot down. He was told that the job was given to a more experienced company.” She shook her head. “But when Aaron did some digging, he learned that the other company wasn’t more experienced than his. He made a stink about it and wound up getting blackballed. He couldn’t get work anywhere in Tallulah County, and we wound up having to move closer to Lincoln City for him to be able to get back on track.”
“What a shame.” I exchanged glances with Vera. “That’s so unfair.”
“Unfair and, I’d venture to say, unethical,” said Jane. “I can’t help but wonder what other shady practices were going on at that hospital.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, goodness. I’d better run. I have to pick up my daughter from school.”
Jane gathered up her materials and I went over to the counter and got a periwinkle bag to put them in. After ringing up Jane’s purchases, we all said our good-byes. I told Jane to come back if she needed any further assistance.
Once she’d left, I went back and sat down across from Vera. “That was interesting.”
“Wasn’t it? I wish we knew the name of the company that got the contract Jane’s husband was bidding on,” she said.
“I imagine that’s a matter of public record.”
“I’ll put Paul to work on it.” Vera gave me a sage nod. “If anyone can find out, he can.”
“Great. What did you find out at the hospital today?”
“I found out that being a volunteer is hard work, that patients are demanding, and that some of the staff can be downright picky about handouts.” She affected a whiny voice. “Well, I like that magazine, but don’t you have this one or that one?” She rolled her eyes before resuming her normal tone. “I also learned that Sandra Vincent was something of a chameleon and that people either loved her or hated her—there wasn’t much ambivalence. I gathered that information by offering freebies to the whiny staff members.”
“Good thinking. Give me some examples about Ms. Vincent. Which people hated her, and which people loved her?”
“Well, that’s just it,” said Vera. “I can’t narrow it down to groups, like all the doctors I spoke with hated her but the nurses loved her. Each individual—no matter what purpose they serve at the hospital—either hated Sandra and, although not happy that she’s dead, weren’t shedding any tears over her, or loved her and couldn’t believe she was gone.”
“So, you didn’t really come up with any suspects, either?”
“No.” She frowned. “Wait. What do you mean, either?”
I told her about Ted having lunch with a friend who worked with the TCPD. “Their only real suspect right now is Captain Moe.”
Chapter Seven
After Vera left, I called Tallulah County General Hospital and asked the nurse in charge of the pediatric ward if I could come in tomorrow after work and read to the children. I even volunteered to wear the elf costume.
“I have to return the costume, anyway, and I thought I might make use of it one more time before saying good-bye to it.”
“I think that’s a charming idea, Ms. Singer, and the children would love it. Could you be here at six thirty tomorrow evening?”
“I certainly can. I’ll look forward to it.”
I had a customer come in immediately after speaking with the nurse. Once she’d finished browsing and had made her purchase, I called Riley.
“Hi, Marcy.” She sounded tired. I wondered if she’d been up with the baby the night before or if it was worry about Captain Moe that was draining her. I debated asking, but then decided it was better if I didn’t.
“How are you?” I asked.
“I’m okay.”
“I know you’re busy, and I won’t keep you but a minute, but I wanted you to know that everyone is rooting for Captain Moe. Vera even went to the hospital today to do some recon.”
Riley laughed. “That’s sweet. Did it do any good?”
“Not really. She said that everyone either hated or loved Sandra Vincent. Apparently, there was no middle ground where this woman was concerned.”
“Still, the only suspect the Tallulah County Police Department has in their crosshairs seems to be my uncle.”
“I know. But Ted says the investigation is in its infancy. I’m sure the real suspect will turn up soon.”
She sighed. “I hope you’re right, but the longer the police go without a more viable suspect, the guiltier Uncle Moe looks. I’m just grateful he hasn’t been charged yet. All the evidence they have against him is circumstantial at this point—anyone could have walked into that room and discovered Sandra Vincent’s body.”
“Exactly.”
“And yet I’m concerned that the hospital is pressuring the police to make an arrest.”
“Have you talked with your dad?” I asked.
Riley’s dad, Norman Patrick, was also an attorney. Unfortunately, he was currently incarcerated in a minimum-security prison for fraud. He was halfway through his three-year sentence.
“I spoke with him last night,” she answered. “He’s upset, of course. He wishes he could be here to help. I promised to consult him every step of the way. I did assure him that Uncle Moe hasn’t been arrested and that all this worry might be for nothing, but he knows me better than that. Had I not been worried, I wouldn’t have called him.”
“I’ve volunteered to read to the children as Marcy the Elf tomorrow evening. I’ll see what I can find out about Sandra Vincent while I’m there. We’ll get Captain Moe out of this. I know we will.”
“I wish I had your optimism. I just get the feeling there’s something Uncle Moe isn’t telling me— something that’s going to come back and bite us all. I know him, and he’s hiding something.”
* * *
When I got home, Ted was already there. He’d gone up to the attic, brought down my Christmas tree, and had it ready for us to decorate.
“I wasn’t sure where you wanted it,” he said. “That’s why it’s here in the foyer.”
I smiled. “Let’s take it to the living room and put it in the corner next to the fireplace.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Have you had a good day?” I asked.
“I’ve missed you. Other than that, it was all right, I guess. What about you?”
“It was okay.” As I followed Ted and the tree into the living room, I went on to tell him about talking with Vera and Riley about Captain Moe’s case. “Neither of them is hopeful about the police finding another suspect, but the only evidence against Captain Moe is circumstantial.”
“It’s too soon to start jumping to conclusions. I’d have thought Riley, at least, would realize that.”
“I believe she does. But this is her uncle we’re talking about.”
“That’s true. What do you say we get to decorating this tree and leave our worries behind for a little while?”
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him. “Sounds good to me.”
While we unpacked the ornaments and began putting them on the tree, I told him the significance of each one.
I held up a small porcelain angel. “This one was a gift to me from the late, great McDonald Murphy.”
Ted raised his brows. “The Solitary Cowboy?”
“That’s the one. Mom worked on a television show in the mid-eighties, and Mr. Murphy came on as a guest star. I was about four years old then. I don’t remember it, but Mom said she took me to work one day and that Mr. Murphy thought I was the cutest thing ever.” I gave Ted what I hoped was a coquettish smile. “He said I was a little angel.”
“If he could see you now . . .”
I huffed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if he could see you now, he’d realize how right he was.” Ted rolled his eyes.
I laughed. “Anyway, he gave this to Mom and asked her to pass it along to me. And whenever I’m flipping through channels and see that The Solitary Cowboy is on the oldies station, I watch for a few minutes and remember that distinguished gentleman cowboy thought I was an angel. So there.” I hung the angel on the tree.
