Jeopardy in January

by Camilla Chafer

  "You two take a seat and I will bring your coffees to you," Candice said, beaming. "I just took out a batch of brownies from the oven. It's a new recipe too. You have to try it! I refuse to hear a no. You two can be my guinea pigs."

  "Guess we're sampling the brownies," said Tom, his smile growing broader. "My day just keeps getting better and better."

  "Surely it can't be that bad! Not that coffee and brownies couldn’t fix it?" I asked.

  "Throw in the company of a pretty lady and I think I can say my day has been saved."

  I indicated the table in the window, heartened at the unexpected compliment, and we walked over. Tom slid out my chair as attentively as a waiter in a fancy restaurant and I sat down. He took the seat opposite, placing his back to the wall. "I just drove a very long way to get here and the hotel lost my booking. I'm not sure where I'm going to stay tonight. Any tips from a local?"

  "Actually, yes, I can give you the names of a couple of bed-and-breakfasts, if that will help?"

  "That sounds perfect!"

  "What brings you to a town like Calendar?" I asked, finding him quite pleasant and approachable as I assessed him. Tall, and good looking, with dark blonde hair curling behind his ears almost to his collar, and a clean-shaven jaw. The little crinkles around his eyes put him in his thirties. He shrugged off his gloves and jacket. I saw a black sweater with a blue shirt collar underneath and added, "You don't look like one of our typical tourists."

  "You get tourists even in winter?" he asked, looking out the window as if he didn't believe me. “I have to say, I preferred the snow to this rain.”

  "We sure do get winter tourists. Calendar is big on all kinds of events so there's usually something happening here every month."

  "Really? What's happening this month?"

  "Actually, maybe I made this town sound more interesting than it really is. With the new year celebrations gone, the only events in January are those at the library." My shoulders slumped as I realized what I said. That probably wouldn't be happening anymore now though. "I need to backtrack again. The library is currently closed," I explained as Tom waited patiently.

  "How come?" he asked.

  I paused, suddenly suspicious that Tom might have been one of Jason's developer colleagues. However, he didn't seem at all familiar with the library. "There was a murder," I explained.

  Tom's jaw dropped open but he recovered quickly. "That's terrible! Did they catch the killer?"

  "Not yet."

  Tom leaned back when Candice placed our coffees on the table along with a plate of brownies. She sprinkled a dusting of powdered sugar across the top, using a doily for a stencil.

  "Wow. I thought I was coming to Cutesville, certainly not the newest murder capital."

  "You're not! This is Calendar's first murder in I don't know how many years. I swear," I said, placing my hand over my heart.

  "Were you and the victim close?"

  I nodded glumly. I didn't want to explain that I once thought Bree and I were friends, because now I wasn't sure. That was too much information for a stranger. "We worked together," I said. "I'm the head librarian."

  Sympathy shone on his sincere face. "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to pry. This has to be awfully horrible for you."

  "It is," I admitted, "but it’s probably so much worse for her family."

  "They must be very upset," Tom said.

  I shook my head. "I don't know if the police managed to track them down yet. Bree was a very private person and a relatively recent resident."

  "Well, I hope they turn up," he said, "and I hope someone is looking after you too. I think the general advice in situations like this is to keep busy."

  "I wish I could! With the library now closed, I don’t know what to do," I told him. I wasn’t ready to add just what I'd been doing to keep busy. I couldn't be sure what the kind stranger would think about my private activities. He would probably wonder if I were crazy. First, I spent my morning searching Bree's apartment and hiding in her bed frame; then I continued my investigation into her past by calling her fake references! If someone told me that, I would advise them to tell the police and let them solve it, but somehow, I couldn't take my own advice. It had become too personal.

  "If that's the case, maybe I can help?"

  "Do you have a library that needs cataloguing?" I asked with a smile.

  "Not quite. I have my digital tablet but it's pretty organized as well as being compact. I was thinking that maybe I could take you to dinner. What do you say?"

  What did Bree always like to tell me? She kept advising me to live a little! Suddenly, her recommendation meant more to me now than ever before. "That would be really nice."

  "Why don't I pick you up tomorrow at eight? Oh, wait! I don't know your address and I guess you could consider me a stranger," he said, laughing. "Why don't I meet you somewhere? I saw a pretty, little French restaurant across the street, the one with some huge trees outside the door? Francine’s?"

  "I can meet you there at eight," I agreed. I'd been wanting to try the restaurant since it changed menu for the new year but never got the opportunity. A date with Tom seemed like the perfect chance. Plus, Tom was right: it would take my mind off other things. If I stayed home, all I would end up doing would be to worry myself silly.

  "That's great! I have to run right now because I have an appointment; but I'm really glad I ran into you, Sara." Tom smiled warmly as he got to his feet and held out his hand. I took it, puzzled momentarily when he raised it, but he leaned down and kissed my knuckles with soft, cool lips. "Until tomorrow night."

  "That was so romantic," squealed Candice. She slid into Tom's seat the moment he disappeared from view. "Who was he? Where did you find him?"

  "His name is Tom and he found me. He saw me drop my glove and he followed me all the way here."

  "So chivalrous!" Candice sighed.

  "He also asked me out on a date!" I tried to repress my pleased smile but I couldn't help letting some of it break through.

  Candice's eyes widened. "That is so amazing!"

  "I know!"

  "Where are you going? What will you wear?" she asked, her excitement crowding her questions into fast succession.

  I told her Tom had already picked the restaurant. "I don't know what to wear. Do you know how long it's been since I went on a date?"

  "Too long, I’m sure," said Candice. "I have no idea why you don't date more often. Don't you realize how pretty you are? And don't try to brush me off! This calls for a new dress."

  "No!" I shook my head, thinking of the unnecessary expense but also feeling a little silly. I wasn't the kind of woman who rushed out for a new outfit on a whim. I could probably wear something I already had.

  "I mean it! You need a new dress. I bet you can't remember the last time you bought a new dress either. You've been through a horrible couple of days and you should treat yourself."

  "Do you really think so?"

  "No, Sara, I know so," said Candice with absolute certainty. "I know what happened to Bree was terrible; but I now give you all the permission you need to live your life to the very best it can be, starting with this date!”

  I left the café, warmed not only from the hot coffee, but also the unexpected encounter, and my good friend's determined advice. The sun finally emerged, bright but cold, barely peeking through the clouds to signal the rain was over. I decided I would take Candice's advice and with my free time currently abundant go over to the small boutique on the other side of the square. She was right about my clothing options; I had a few dresses in my closet but none of them were particularly suitable for a first date. Most were left over from Calendar's long, warm summers, and I had a couple of smart woolen suits for winter wear at the library. Going out attire was largely limited to a few smart blouses that I usually wore with jeans. Yet, the more I thought about the forthcoming date, the more I knew I wanted to impress Tom. Although he was only wearing a sweater and slacks, he had an air of refined elegance about him
.

  "Hi," called Meredith Blake, the boutique's owner, waving to me as I stepped inside the shop. "Sara! It's so nice to see you!"

  "Hi," I greeted her warmly when she came over to give me a welcoming hug. I hadn't known Meredith for too long – she'd only opened the boutique a year ago - but she was always gracious and friendly whenever I saw her.

  "This isn't a social call, is it?" asked Meredith. "I already signed your petition to keep the library open."

  "I know, and thank you for that. No, I actually came here for a new dress."

  "Really? What kind of dress were you thinking of?" Meredith studied me, searching for an answer that didn't involve work or a funeral. That thought made me feel awful. I didn’t need a new funeral dress because I had a simple, black wrap dress that would work just fine. No, I needed some cheering up. Since I couldn’t proceed any further with solving Bree’s murder, I was determined to take Candice's advice. I gave myself permission to enjoy life.

  "For a date," I told her shyly, waiting for the inevitable excitement.

  "Well, it's about time!" gushed Meredith. She laughed and flicked her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to come in and ask for a cute, dating dress? Sacha, come and help me!" she called out and a teenaged girl with long, brown hair and big, brown eyes walked through the door from the rear of the boutique. "This is my new Saturday girl, Sacha. I'm training her today," explained Meredith.

  "Hi, Sacha."

  "Hi, Ms. Cutler," Sacha said, smiling prettily.

  "When was the last time you bought a new dress for a date?" asked Meredith.

  "Um, never?" I had to guess. Glancing down at the knee-length, dark, knit dress I currently wore with long, flat boots, I immediately felt drab against Meredith's chic wrap dress and sexy heels. Even Sacha was stylish in a trendy, teen sort of way. Wearing a lacy, white top and slim, black pants along with a dramatic, silver bangle, Sacha seemed quite fashionable.

  " Let's see. You have a great figure and that gorgeous, chocolate-and-caramel hair… I bet I have a bunch of dresses that you would look great in! Since it's winter, I suppose you’ll want to wear stockings, so maybe we should look for a dress with a heavier weight to the fabric, like this green dress?" Meredith reached for a hanger from the rack behind me and held it out. The dress was made from thick satin and featured a neckline slashed unbearably low.

  "I can't wear that on a first date!"

  Meredith's face fell. "Why not?"

  "It's really beautiful but I'd be so afraid of falling out of it," I said, waving a hand over the front. "It's rather revealing."

  "You are more of a demure girl," agreed Meredith, nodding as she replaced the dress and reached for another hanger. I had to stifle a laugh at being called a girl; Meredith had to be in her late twenties, the same as me! "What about this cute, black number? Sacha, can you check the sizes we have in stock? Hmm, no, it's a little too drab, looks like it’s for someone who died, not... oh, I'm sorry!" Meredith clapped a hand over her mouth. "That was such a stupid slip. I can't believe I said that when your friend just died."

  "You heard?"

  "Honey, I think everyone heard. I just can't believe it. I only spoke to Bree last week when I picked up one of those thrillers I love to read. Poor girl. Did they arrest whoever did it?"

  I shook my head. "Not yet. They have no suspects yet."

  "I wonder if it had anything to do with that phone call I overheard," she said as she rifled through the rack. Assessing and discarding several dresses in quick succession, she continued firing instructions to Sacha to check for a dress she thought she had in the back.

  "What phone call?" I asked when the teen hurried away.

  "It was last week when I came in and borrowed the book. Bree's cellphone rang and she stepped out to take it. I wasn't listening, I promise, but I overheard something..." She stepped back with another dress in hand and presented it to me. I wavered my hand, conveying my uncertainty toward the busy, floral print. More interesting was what Meredith had to say. "What did you hear?" I asked.

  "I wouldn't repeat this if she were still alive but it sounded like she was having an argument. She kept saying that she was never coming back. And she also said to stop looking for her. She sounded very frustrated and a little bit angry."

  "That doesn't sound like an argument. More like she was warning someone off."

  "Yeah, that wasn't the weird bit though. She kept saying she was in Florida."

  "Florida?"

  "Yeah, not exactly within throwing distance of Calendar, huh? I figured she wanted the person on the other end to think that she was somewhere far away from here. Isn't it strange?"

  "Very," I agreed, recalling my original theory about Bree running away from a boyfriend. "Do you think she was speaking to a man?"

  "I don't know. She could have been. I wasn't trying to listen in. I was just waiting inside the library door for the snow to stop beating down so I could run out to my car and the door was open a little. Do you think I should tell someone?"

  "Yes," I decided. "I think Detective Logan should know about it. I don’t think he’s at the police station now, but I’m sure he’ll be back there today."

  "Okay, I'll call him later in case it’s useful information. Let's find you that dress." Meredith clapped her hands together and gasped. "I think you should try on a bunch of different styles," she decided when Sacha returned, holding up a long gown. Meredith shook her head immediately. "Too formal. I know. I have some that are perfect but you should try on a few different ones. You never know when you're going to try something on that you'd never normally pick out to wear and find it's perfect. You have plenty of time, right?"

  I thought about the closed library and Detective Logan tearing out of the station. Since I'd normally have been at work at this time of day, and my usual schedule had been upset on short notice, I didn't have anywhere else to go. Before I could answer, I thought about something Bree told me only days ago. I could be anyone I wanted to be. What better way to do that than by starting with a brand new dress? "Yes," I told Meredith, instantly making my mind up. "I have plenty of time."

  Meredith handed me dress after dress, insisting that I try on shoes and purses with each one, while Sacha hurried around the store to collect and replace the various items. I hated to think how much trouble I was causing them but they both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Meredith exclaimed her approval for some dresses and shook her head at others. She handed over all kinds of belts, and took them away, turning up hems and cinching in waists until finally, she had nothing left to say.

  "What?" I asked, a rush of panic filling me. "Is it that bad?"

  "No!" Meredith took me by the shoulders and turned me around so I could see my reflection in the full-length mirror. The dark blue sheath had a sweetheart neckline, and a translucent fabric rose from it and across my shoulders to meet with the back. The fabric draped from one side, accentuating my waist and falling to just above my knee. With the addition of black hose and lacy heels, I looked great! No, actually I looked better than great and I felt fantastic. I almost reached out to touch the mirror and be sure it was me. "It's perfect!" I said, staring at my thrilling reflection.

  "You look great, Ms. Cutler," said Sacha, giving me the thumbs up.

  "Doesn't she? I knew it but I'm glad you tried on all those other dresses. You needed to shake up your style a little bit, Sara. You are lucky that you can wear so many styles."

  "I don't have a lot of occasions to, however," I admitted.

  "Maybe you will if this date becomes a second date and a third! We sell lingerie too," she added with a wink.

  I blushed. "I'll take the dress."

  "Let me know when you've changed and I'll wrap it up," said Meredith. She slid the curtain shut and I heard her footsteps retreating amid the sound of rustling fabric. By the time I stepped out of the changing room, I felt much better about myself. My life might have taken a downturn in some ways but at least, I still had one
. As the new year progressed, I kept thinking about all the changes I needed to make. Perhaps now was the time to do it. Bree's death was a horrible shock and I wasn't sure I could ever make sense of it; but I learned one thing: I couldn’t go back to being boring Sara Cutler. I couldn’t be someone who only lived for work. Not anymore. I wanted to feel alive. This dress was a tiny step towards it; the date an even bigger step. If the date didn't work out, at least I would have gotten a beautiful, new dress even if it was expensive.

  "You're in luck!" squealed Meredith. "It's the last one! I just checked the tag and this dress is forty percent off during our January sale."

  "Seriously?" I gasped. Baby steps, I reminded myself, and maybe a smile from the universe.

  "Yes. I'm really pleased you're the one buying it." Meredith showed Sacha how to ring the dress up at the register while I put my card into the machine. Meredith promptly wrapped it in tissue before slipping it into a bag and adding a pink ribbon around the cord handles. "I was just thinking," she said, hesitating. "Oh, it's nothing. I'm probably being silly."

  "What? Is it about the dress?" I wondered if she'd made a mistake and was too embarrassed to say.

  "No, no. It's about Bree. I was thinking about that conversation I overheard and I just remembered something else. I heard her say that all she had to do was lay low for a few more weeks before she would be on the beach without a care in the world. It just struck me as a really strange comment. What do you make of it?"

  "I don't know," I said honestly, "But I'd sure like to find out."

  Chapter Eight

  Stepping onto the sidewalk, my fingers wrapped tightly around the cord handles, Meredith's final words kept echoing in my mind. "Laying low" didn't sound like something a woman on the run from an abusive ex would say. It seemed more like something a person would say if they had something very valuable to hide.

  I thought back to the envelope inside my purse. It seemed to grow heavier the longer it remained inside. I wanted to march over to the police station and thrust it into Detective Logan's hands but he'd torn out of there so fast, I couldn't be sure he'd even returned yet. I glanced in the direction of the police station and sighed. The envelope would have to wait.