The Glitter End, page 5
Tilly blushed and fidgeted under all the praise heaped upon her.
“But I will not keep you in suspense any longer,” the mayor’s wife said with a determined nod. “Let’s officially open this wonderful exhibition of Tilly Tay’s interpretation of our beloved gold rush Tundish.”
The crowd hummed approvingly as the mayor’s wife accepted the scissors Delta handed her and cut the ribbon. With applause, she entered the store, the guest of honor and the curious crowd pouring in after them, slowly pushing past the display and then dispersing into the cells to look at the other products. Delta saw Mrs. Cassidy leaning over the display at the exact spot where the murdered prospector with the mattock in his back was, and she expected the woman to come over her at once to ask about it. But the flow of the people steered Mrs. Cassidy in the opposite direction. It was all very tight, but people seemed willing to accept a little discomfort to be part of this moment celebrating their town’s illustrious history.
Gran did manage to reach Delta and said, with a wide smile, “It turned out amazing. I can’t see all the details now, because I don’t want to block other people’s path forever, but I must have a closer look some other time. I did recognize Tilly Tay’s little dog. I think it’s adorable she put him in there. Chihuahuas are a really old breed, so why wouldn’t it have been possible for one of them to live in gold rush Tundish?”
“I’m glad you like it. Is your new friend the major not here?”
“No, but we are seeing each other later today.” Gran’s smile brightened even more. “I do hope you won’t mind, Delta, but he’s not into this kind of fidgety thing. He’s more of an outdoorsy person, you know.”
“Fine with me,” Delta assured her. “I hope you have a great time together.”
Mrs. Cassidy had managed to reach the artist and was talking to her. She seemed to ask a question, because Tilly looked up at her with some surprise and then nodded and responded.
Delta wondered if Mrs. Cassidy also thought she knew Tilly Tay from a prior occasion. Tilly had said she’d been to Tundish before. And, even though Jonas couldn’t have known her from a previous visit, only coming to live here recently, it was possible Mrs. Cassidy could have.
Delta mentally shook herself. It was none of her business. Everything had gone off without a hitch, and people seemed to like the display. They were taking pictures of it with their phones. Maybe they should even create a special hashtag for it. And then award a prize to the best photograph? A package with a notebook and pen? Something like that… She had to work out the prize bundle and then post a good shot of it later today.
Among the browsing locals, Delta spotted Sven LeDuc, editor of the Tundish Trader, the town’s newspaper since 1887. He was an old-school newsman who always carried his notebook around and wrote in it with an extra-sharpened pencil. His son, Marc LeDuc, had been cast to take over, but a disagreement between them about how things should run at the paper had driven them apart. Now Marc had a website, called News as It Develops, where he tried to publish all the scoops before his father got to them.
But, apparently, Marc didn’t consider this news, because he was nowhere in sight.
Good for us.
Delta disliked his tactics to get stories and could do very well without him poking his phone in her face to record a statement about something she didn’t want to give a statement about. In the two murder cases earlier that year, Marc had been a real pain. Although, she had to admit begrudgingly, he had sometimes dug up some information that had helped them along the way.
Sven LeDuc maneuvered in her direction, waving his notebook. “This is fantastic,” he called above the hum of crowd. “Reminds me of the model railway I used to work on in the attic. Gave up on it years ago, as I no longer had the time for it. But all the boxes are still there, somewhere. I should really look them up and dust it off again. Bring my track back to life. Fantastic.”
Delta gave him a thumbs up. At least, the Tundish Trader would write a nice little piece about this. It could help business. Anything to get through this dry season.
Speaking of dry… Outside, the rain had started again, full force, pounding against the window. She imagined how Jonas would be walking through the forest now, the rain dripping down his face from his soaked hair. She knew he loved being outdoors, so he might not mind too much, but his followers? She had to ask him later how things went. Then he might also make a concrete date for that dinner he had suggested. She did want to spend time with him again. Soon.
People stayed a little longer waiting for the rain to ease, but then, gradually, they left, opening up umbrellas or crossing hurriedly to Mine Forever. Mrs. Cassidy came over to Delta. “I asked Tilly Tay to visit the gold-mining museum,” she enthused. “I think it would be an honor to have her there. She can sign the guest book. She said she’d come right after the reveal here was over. I would love for you to be there as well. You are the one who invited her over to town.”
Delta opened her mouth to say she had to help Hazel with the store when her friend popped up beside her and said that she was coming too and that they could close the store for an hour. Delta wanted to protest, but Hazel pointed at the weather outside. “There won’t be that many people coming on a morning like this. We can afford to do it.”
Delta sensed that Hazel wanted it, for a reason she couldn’t quite fathom. Maybe to make a good impression with Tilly Tay? Did Hazel feel guilty for having distrusted the artist?
She agreed and, after they had said goodbye to their last visitors, they closed up and went to the museum together. Tilly praised the authentic look of the building, the mining cart placed outside, and the little gift corner near the reception desk. Delta was just brushing wet drops from her hair when she heard singing. Hazel caught her arm and led her into the nearest room where the entire Paper Posse was gathered with Gran and the mayor. Delta’s eyes widened. “What is this?” she whispered to Hazel.
Her friend beamed at her. “Mrs. Cassidy arranged for it, so she has to tell you.”
Mrs. Cassidy made a dismissive gesture. “It was really Jane’s idea.”
Jane said, “If we keep playing pass-the-parcel, we’ll never get this done.”
Bessie Rider stepped forward. “Okay, I’ll tell you.” She took a deep breath. “All the shopkeepers on Mattock Street agree that you are a real asset to the street. You and Hazel have made Wanted into a shop that attracts tourists. You have set up special events, like the display with Tilly Tay right now, to boost the town. For your tireless efforts and enthusiasm, you deserve a reward, so we have chosen you as shopkeeper of the season. The mayor will officially hand out your medal.”
Delta flushed as the mayor stepped up and shook her hand, then passed her a box that held a medal resting against blue velvet. It had a silhouette of Tundish in the center with words written on the edges: Tundish Shopkeeper of the Season. The medal glittered in the light from above.
“It’s not real gold,” the mayor warned her, and everyone had to laugh.
“I’ll put it on display in the shop,” Delta said. “Thanks so much. I feel very honored. And I have to say that Hazel did so much as well. Together we are the best team ever.”
She put an arm around her friend, who beamed with pride and whispered, “I’m so glad you came to Tundish.”
Gran came over and kissed Delta on the cheeks. “You deserve this, darling.”
Mrs. Cassidy passed around glasses, and they toasted to Wanted’s prolonged success. Just as Delta touched her glass to Mrs. Cassidy’s and thanked her again for nominating her, there was a bustling sound, and Sheriff West raced into the room. He stopped when he saw the festive gathering and cleared his throat. Everyone stood frozen with their glasses midair, staring at him. West said, “I’m looking for a Miss Tilly Tay. She has to answer some questions.”
“About what?” Mrs. Cassidy asked.
Delta supplied, “If her van is wrongly parked, we’ll have it moved right away.”
Jane added, “We’re celebrating Delta’s election to shopkeeper of the season. As you can understand, Sheriff, we’ve not thought of parking violations. Or tickets.” She gave him a pleading look.
West said, “I’m afraid it is a little more serious than that. This morning, outside the motel, a dead body was found. The man was stabbed in the back.”
As he said it, an image popped up in Delta’s mind. The dead prospector with the mattock in his back in Tilly’s display. Dead body, outside lodgings, stabbed in the back. So many similarities.
She scanned the people present looking for Tilly to gauge her response to this news. The petite artist had been talking to Rita moments ago. Where was she now?
West continued, “As Ms. Tay was seen arguing with the victim, she must answer some questions.”
Delta frowned. “Arguing with the victim? She only arrived in town yesterday.”
“The argument took place yesterday, in the street. Several witnesses saw it.”
“You’re referring to that insurance salesman in the oversized raincoat?” Delta asked. “I saw them together, and they were not arguing. That is, he tried to force her into taking his insurance for her van, and she refused. He was being obnoxious, but then lots of insurance people are and—”
“I don’t need you to explain the situation to me,” West cut her short. “I want to hear Ms. Tay’s statement.” He looked around. “Where is she?”
Rita pointed beside her and said, “She was here a moment ago.” They all turned their heads, scanning the room, but Tilly was nowhere to be seen. She had certainly not walked past West, so…
Jane said, “She must have gone farther into the museum.”
“She’s trying to run!” West exclaimed. He raced into the next room.
“Wait!” Mrs. Cassidy followed him. “Let me try and find her. I’m sure it’s all a misunderstanding. She will gladly answer your questions, so you can clear the matter up.”
But why, then, Delta asked herself, had Tilly Tay slunk away instead of simply answering the policeman’s questions on the spot? If she was innocent…
Of course she’s innocent. She just got a scare.
Delta hurried after West and Mrs. Cassidy.
West had passed a display of hopeful prospectors buying a map, and entered the history of law enforcement room. He seemed to have heard a sound, for he abruptly turned into a corner and collided, headlong, with the dummy on display there. It was a very good likeness of Earl Bolt, the Tundish sheriff who had caught a famous gang and had been awarded a regional medal of bravery. The dummy teetered on his legs as West tried to maintain his own balance.
“I don’t know if you ever met,” Mrs. Cassidy said drily.
West didn’t appreciate the irony. “This place is crammed full of stuff,” he growled. “She could be anywhere.”
He raced on, into the next room.
Mrs. Cassidy called, “You only spooked the poor woman. Can’t we talk about this?”
“Someone died.” West sounded grim. “And she’s running, so she must be the killer. Ah, there she is.”
Delta was just in time to see West grab Tilly, who was two heads shorter than he was, and pull her arms behind her back. He clicked the cuffs on. The woman stood with her head down, panting.
“No need to be so rough,” Mrs. Cassidy said. She tried to inch closer to West and Tilly, holding her arms up in a pleading gesture, but the sheriff wouldn’t let her come near and growled, “Don’t you try to help her escape.”
Delta asked, “If you only want to ask questions about her argument with the victim, are you even allowed to cuff her?”
“I’m making sure she can’t run again. If this is a misunderstanding, we’ll sort it out.”
“And you should apologize for the inconvenience,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “You totally ruined our festive gathering to give Delta an award.”
West didn’t seem to listen, or care, as he continued, “I’m taking you in, to answer pertinent questions about your argument with the murder victim but also because you refused to cooperate when I first asked you and are obstructing the investigation.”
Mrs. Cassidy glanced at Delta and whispered, “I don’t know if all of this is legal.”
West must have overheard her for he said emphatically, “You can call a lawyer once we’re at the station. This is strictly by the book.”
“I can’t afford one.” Tilly looked up now. Her eyes were panicked, but her voice sounded firm. “You have the wrong suspect, Sheriff. I was nowhere near that motel last night.”
West narrowed his eyes. “How do you know the victim died last night?”
Good question, Delta thought.
“I don’t know when he died,” Tilly said in a rush, “but I was at the store working on my display until midnight, and then I went to my van and slept inside it. I’ve been nowhere else.”
“Yes, you came back to the cottage to bring us the key,” Delta pointed out.
Tilly ignored her. She said to West, “You’re entirely mistaken, Sheriff. I have nothing to do with it.”
“Then why did you run?”
“I didn’t run. I was looking at the museum’s displays. They can give me new ideas for my miniatures.”
“You’re panting, and there’s sweat on your brow.” West studied her with a suspicious look.
Tilly insisted, “I had already left the room before you came in.”
Delta wasn’t sure if Tilly had been there when West had stormed in. Focused on his arrival, she hadn’t done a head count. Would Mrs. Cassidy know, or Jane or Gran? There had been plenty of witnesses.
“Don’t worry,” Delta told Tilly. “We’ll arrange for a lawyer and have you out again in no time. This is obviously all a big mistake.”
West shook his head. “I know things you don’t, Miss Douglas. I’d advise you to stay away from this case. You can only get burned.”
Delta pushed her heels against the floorboards as West took Tilly away like some dangerous convict. That big sheriff with such a little bewildered middle-aged lady... Delta felt so sorry for Tilly. To get arrested in the town you had been invited to…
Tilly jerked up her head and cried, “Where’s Buddy? He walked with me when I went to look around.”
Delta peered around the room but didn’t see the chihuahua anywhere.
“I have to look for my dog,” Tilly insisted, trying to pull away from West. The metal cuffs clinked.
West shook his head. “It’s full of people here. They can find your dog for you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Cassidy said. “I have experience with dogs. I’ll find Buddy.” Tilly didn’t seem convinced, but West ushered her along.
Mrs. Cassidy continued to Delta, “I also have a friend or two who know lawyers. I’ll make a few calls to get some help for Tilly.” She put a hand on Delta’s arm. “I’m sorry your party turned out this way.”
“I almost feel like I don’t deserve that medal. Now the exhibition I brought to town is associated with murder!”
“We’ll solve the matter. I’ll have a look for little Buddy. You go to the others and tell them what happened. Go on.” Briskly, Mrs. Cassidy turned away to start searching for the missing chihuahua.
Delta wished she could feel quite so in control of the situation. But her head was spinning, and a voice whispered in the back of her mind repeating West’s words: I know things you don’t.
What things?
Hadn’t Jonas said he thought he remembered Tilly’s name from a case?
Did I invite a criminal to town?
She dragged her feet back to where the others were. Gran asked worriedly, “Did Sheriff West really arrest Tilly Tay? How on earth can he think a frail woman like her could stab a man in the back? That’s so unlikely.”
“It might be possible if she was very angry,” Bessie said. “I read in a book—”
Jane cut her short saying, “We need to prove Tilly didn’t know that man. And where she was at the time of the murder. Can we do that?”
“If the time of death was before midnight,” Hazel said in a hopeful tone, “and Tilly says she was in our store…”
Delta shook her head. “I went to check if she was still there, remember, and that was before midnight. She wasn’t there anymore.”
“So, she lied to the sheriff?” Jane sounded pensive. “I wonder why.”
Delta took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, but, if the murdered man is who I think he is, Tilly did argue with him. And maybe he wasn’t trying to sell her insurance. That is what she told me to explain their altercation, but he did say she had to cooperate and she might be sorry if she didn’t. He mentioned too much being at stake. I wondered at the time if he meant at stake for himself or for her.”
“Or both of them,” Jane supplied, “if they did know each other.”
Rita said, “You mean he followed her to town to pressure her about something…”
“Yes.” Delta looked at the other women. “If the sheriff knows about some connection between them that we don’t, he might have a case in the making.”
Jane clapped her hands. “All the more reason to get a good lawyer on this. And we can help. We’ve worked out murders before.”
The other women nodded and started talking among themselves. Mrs. Cassidy came in to report she hadn’t seen Buddy anywhere at first glance and would start a more thorough search. She said to Delta, “I know every nook and cranny of this museum. I’ll find him.” Lowering her voice, she continued, “I saw something in the display, back at Wanted. A man murdered with a mattock. Outside the local boardinghouse. Suspicious, right?”
