by Sarah Fox
Eleanor whipped around and her beady eyes landed on me. The glower she sent my way was almost intense enough to make me wilt right there on the sidewalk. She stormed up her front steps and into her house, slamming the door behind her.
Henry continued pushing his mower across the grass, shaking his head as he went. I considered myself lucky to not live next door to Eleanor, but that wasn’t the main thought taking up space in my head. I was far more focused on the fact that I’d seen bright red scratches on Eleanor’s arms.
Chapter 11
I was still thinking about the scratches on Eleanor’s arms when I put away my groceries and headed out again to meet up with Shontelle. I knew from the state of the third-floor hotel room that Marcie had struggled with her killer before her deadly fall. Was that how Eleanor had ended up with those marks on her arms?
I wrestled with the possibility as I crossed the village green toward Shontelle’s shop. It didn’t strike me as the most compelling theory. Eleanor was as tall as I was, which made her close to Marcie’s height as well, but she was thin and bony and probably in her seventies. Could she really have had the strength to push twenty-something Marcie out the window? It seemed more likely to me that Marcie would have overpowered her easily. Although, if Eleanor had been angry enough, maybe that would have given her the strength she needed.
Still, I wasn’t convinced of Eleanor’s guilt. Maybe I needed to look at other aspects of the murder. Did Eleanor have a motive for killing Marcie?
Not that I could think of. She hadn’t liked the fact that Marcie had pointed out a problem with her book, and that was probably why she’d dug up some dirt on Marcie, whatever that dirt was. Even so, it would have made more sense to me if Marcie had killed Eleanor to keep her from revealing whatever she’d discovered about the younger woman’s past, if she’d known that Eleanor had found something.
I decided that I couldn’t discount Eleanor completely. It would help to know how she’d ended up with the scratches on her arms, but I wasn’t sure how I’d find that out. I’d keep her on my mental suspect list for the time being, but Brad Honeywell’s name was still above hers. I needed to figure out what had happened between him and Marcie. It would also help if I could know what Eleanor had alluded to when she’d brought up Marcie’s past to Linnea. That information might give me a better picture of who Marcie was and why someone might have wanted to harm her.
Digging around for clues would have to wait, however. I’d reached the Treasure Chest and could see Shontelle through the glass door. When I opened it, I also noticed that her mother was there.
“Hey, Sadie. I’ll just grab my purse,” Shontelle called out as she disappeared into the back of the shop.
“Hi, Yvette,” I greeted Shontelle’s mom. “Are you on shop duty this morning?”
“You bet,” she replied with a smile.
Shontelle reappeared with her purse in hand.
“You girls have fun,” Yvette called to us as we headed for the front door.
We waved to her and stepped out onto the sidewalk.
“Where to first?” Shontelle asked.
“Let’s try Sassy Gal,” I suggested.
Shontelle agreed with that, so we headed for Hemlock Street. There were only two choices when it came to shopping for women’s clothing in Shady Creek. Anna Stassen’s shop had everything from shorts and sundresses to nightgowns and a handful of formal dresses. We’d have very limited selection at that store, but I didn’t want to have to rely on our second option unless we really had to. That boutique offered business wear, semi-formal, and formal clothing for women, and would be more likely to have what we were looking for. The problem with Fashionably Late was that it was owned by Vera Anderson.
Although Vera was a member of the Inkwell’s romance book club, she was far from my favorite person. She could be haughty and prickly, and on an occasion or two in the past she’d taken malicious pleasure in blindsiding me with unpleasant news. As far as I knew, Vera had at least one part-time employee who helped her run the shop, but she also spent plenty of time there herself, and I didn’t want to cross her path if I didn’t need to.
I knew Shontelle’s opinion of Vera wasn’t much better than mine, which was probably why she agreed to my suggestion without hesitation. When we arrived at Sassy Gal, the owner herself greeted us. Anna was originally from Amsterdam and still had a Dutch accent. I didn’t know her well, but I’d shopped at her store a couple of times and she’d been by the pub on occasion. I knew from the town gossip that she’d met Shady Creek local Ian Weathers while they were on separate ski holidays in Switzerland. After a whirlwind romance, they’d married and Anna had moved to Shady Creek with Ian.
“Is there anything I can help you with today?” Anna asked after we’d exchanged greetings.
“We’re shopping for our masquerade dresses,” I said.
“Do you have anything that might work?” Shontelle ran her gaze over the shop’s selection.
“In the back corner.” Anna pointed in that direction. “I don’t carry many formal dresses, and some have already been snatched up over the past couple of days, but there’s still a few there.”
We thanked her and headed for the back corner, where we found one small rack of evening dresses. About half of the gowns were far too small for us and were likely meant for teenage girls.
Shontelle pulled a knee-length red dress off the rack. “Here’s one.” She held it up to me.
I shook my head and stepped back. “I can’t wear that color. It clashes terribly with my hair and complexion.”
Shontelle held it up against herself and looked down at the dress. She quickly returned it to the rack. “Too plain. It might be okay for a regular party, but the May Day Masquerade calls for something a little more . . . elegant.”
“Yes, elegant,” I agreed. “That’s exactly what I want.”
It only took us a minute to go through the rest of the dresses on offer. I loved the emerald-green color of one, but I wasn’t keen on the style, and the size wasn’t right anyway. Shontelle took a cursory look at a shimmery silver dress and a sleek black one, but she rejected both in a matter of seconds.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” she whispered as she hung the black dress up again.
I let out a quiet groan. “We have to check out Vera’s store.”
“Maybe she’s not there today,” Shontelle said, with what I thought was forced optimism.
I crossed my fingers. “Let’s hope that’s the case.”
We said goodbye to Anna and then set off for Fashionably Late on Briar Road. I tried to peek into the shop through the front window, to see who was inside, but the bright sunshine made it difficult to see beyond the window display.
Shontelle was braver than I was and pulled open the door and strode inside without hesitation. I had to give myself a mental kick to follow her. To my disappointment, Vera was behind the counter, ringing up purchases for two middle-aged women. We exchanged brief greetings with the shop owner, and then wandered deeper into the store.
So far, so good. Maybe shopping there wouldn’t be so bad after all. We certainly had far more to choose from. One whole wall of the shop was dedicated to women’s eveningwear. A cobalt-blue dress immediately drew my eye, but when I took it off the rack for a closer look, I quickly decided I didn’t like the style. I selected a green one next.
“That color would look gorgeous on you,” Shontelle said as I held the dress up against my body.
“It’s a bit too revealing for me.”
The neckline split into a V that plunged all the way down to the waistline.
“I’m sure it would get Grayson’s attention,” Shontelle said with a wink and a smile.
I hung the dress back up with a sigh. “He won’t even be at the masquerade.”
“That’s too bad.” Shontelle stopped with her hand on a dress still hanging on the rack. “Wait. How do you know that?” Her gaze sharpened with suspicion, piercing right into me. “Did y
ou ask him to the masquerade and not tell me?”
“No, thank goodness. It would have been way too embarrassing when he turned me down. I would have thought the out-of-town excuse was just that, an excuse. And of course I would have told you. We just happened to be talking about the masquerade and he mentioned he wouldn’t be in town for it.”
Shontelle’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Sadie.”
“Why?” I unhooked a hanger from the rack to check out a yellow gown. “It’s not like we would have gone together, even if he was in town.”
“You mean you wouldn’t have said yes if he’d asked you?”
“He wouldn’t have asked.” I hesitated. “Would he?”
“He didn’t give you any clues?”
“No.” I held the yellow dress up to myself and looked in the full-length mirror in the corner of the store, but I barely noticed my reflection. “And I made a fool of myself in front of him again. For the umpteenth time.”
“What did you do?”
“Have you heard about the problems the film crew has had since they arrived in town? The smashed windshields and other stuff?”
“I heard about one smashed windshield.”
“Well, it’s happened twice, and the director had her phone stolen. Grayson and I think someone might be targeting the film crew for some reason. We arranged to get together to talk about it, to see if we can figure out who might be behind it, and I stupidly called it a date.” The mere memory made my cheeks warm.
Shontelle seemed far more amused than sympathetic. She even let out a small laugh as she selected a silver dress off the rack.
“It was embarrassing!” I thrust the yellow dress at her. “This color is much better for you than me.”
Shontelle put the silver dress back so she could check out the yellow one. “Was he embarrassed?”
“Well, no,” I said, thinking back. “He seemed to think it was funny.”
“Funny as in ‘you’re ridiculous’ or funny as in ‘you’re cute and I want to kiss you’?”
“Shontelle!”
I glanced around to make sure no one could hear us. The last thing I needed was to have rumors floating around town about me and Grayson. That would only add to my awkwardness the next time I saw him. Although, there had been rumors about us in the past and I’d survived those.
Fortunately, Vera was still chatting with the other two customers, even though they’d long since paid for their purchases.
Shontelle was studying me closely, the dresses forgotten. “Oh my gosh, Sadie. He did want to kiss you!”
“No, he didn’t!” I remembered the simmering look he’d given me at the grocery store. “But . . .”
Shontelle practically pounced on my last word. “But what?”
I sorted through the dresses on the rack without really seeing them. “There might have been a bit of a spark between us. Just a tiny one,” I added quickly. “Nothing to get excited about.”
Despite what I’d just said, Shontelle was almost brimming over with excitement. I thought she was about to hug me when Vera’s voice floated across the store toward us.
“Is there anything I can help you with, ladies?” she asked as she headed our way.
Her two other customers had left and we were now alone with her.
“We’re just browsing at the moment, thanks,” I said, hoping she’d get the message and leave us on our own.
Of course my luck wasn’t that good.
Vera eyed the burgundy dress Shontelle had taken off the rack. “Are you shopping for dresses for the engagement party?”
“Engagement party?” I echoed with confusion. I glanced at Shontelle, but she seemed as clueless as I was.
Something unsettling glittered in Vera’s eyes as she smiled. “Surely you were the first to hear about your aunt’s engagement,” she said to me. “How long until she and Mr. Edmonds move?”
“Move?” The word was barely audible when it came out of my mouth.
I had trouble focusing on Vera’s polished smile that didn’t quite hide her underlying glee. The store started to spin around me and I tightened my grip on the clothes hanger in my hands.
“To Maine,” Vera said. “I know Mr. Edmonds is eager to be closer to his children and grandchildren. So I expect they’ll be going soon, won’t they?”
Shontelle took the hanger out of my grasp and returned the dress to the rack. She put an arm around my shoulders and steered me toward the door.
“Sorry, we need to go,” she said to Vera as she propelled me across the store.
“Give Gilda my best wishes,” Vera called out to us as we rushed out the door, her sugary tone lacking any sincerity.
“It can’t be true,” I said, the words sounding as faint as I felt. It was as if a rug had been yanked out from beneath my feet.
“Of course it’s not true,” Shontelle said firmly. She hooked her arm through mine and hurried me along the sidewalk, away from Vera’s store. “Gilda definitely would have told you.”
“You’re right,” I said, my voice getting stronger. I stopped in my tracks. “Except . . . there is something she’s been wanting to tell me.” I turned toward Shontelle, sadness washing over me. “Aunt Gilda’s moving away?”
Shontelle took hold of my arm again and forced me to resume walking. “Don’t assume that everything Vera said was true.”
“But what if it is?”
Before I’d moved to Shady Creek, I’d gone several years living hours away from Aunt Gilda, but I’d grown used to having her back in my life on a daily basis, and I didn’t like the thought of losing that. An ache was already building in my chest at the prospect.
“You go straight to the salon and talk to Gilda,” Shontelle said as we turned onto Sycamore Street. “You need to get the truth right from the source before you start worrying.”
It was too late for that, because my worrying was well underway, but I knew Shontelle was right—I needed to talk to Aunt Gilda as soon as possible.
“But what about our masquerade dresses?” I asked. “I don’t want to set foot in Vera’s shop again if I can help it.”
“I didn’t really like anything she had, anyway,” Shontelle said. “How about we drive to Manchester on Monday? I know some great shops we can check out.”
“That sounds good.” The only reason my voice lacked any enthusiasm was because I was still focused on the bombshell Vera had dropped on me.
We’d reached the corner of Hillview Road and Sycamore Street. I drew to a stop, but Shontelle gave me a nudge.
“Go straight to the salon, okay?” she said. “Everything will be fine.”
I assured her I was heading right over to see Gilda. Most likely Shontelle was right and everything would be fine. Besides, if Aunt Gilda wanted to marry Louie and move to Maine, I should be happy for her. And I would be. I just didn’t know if I could be happy for myself in those circumstances.
When I reached the salon, I didn’t allow myself to hesitate. I pulled open the door and walked inside, the scents of shampoo and styling products greeting me.
“Morning, Sadie,” Betty said with a smile as she hung up the phone at the counter. “Did you and Shontelle have a successful shopping trip?”
“No . . .”
Aunt Gilda was in the midst of sweeping up hair clippings. She smiled but then got a good look at my face as I trailed off. Her expression immediately sobered and she stopped sweeping.
“Oh no,” she said with regret. “You heard, didn’t you?”
Chapter 12
Betty’s next client arrived before Aunt Gilda had a chance to say anything more, so she quickly finished up her sweeping and ushered me upstairs to her apartment, where we’d have some privacy.
“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” she said as I dropped down onto her couch. “I didn’t want you to hear about it from anyone but me.” She sank into an armchair. “I should have known better. It’s impossible to keep things under wraps in this town, but I didn’t want to tell you t
he other day right after Marcie was killed.”
“I understand,” I assured her. And I did. I just wished Vera hadn’t been the one to break the news to me. I summoned up a smile. “Congratulations. When’s the big day?”
Momentary confusion registered on Aunt Gilda’s face. “There’s no wedding date because I haven’t accepted Louie’s proposal yet.”
“You haven’t?” A mixture of relief and surprise rushed through me. “Vera made it sound like you two were getting married and moving away in a heartbeat.”
“You heard it from Vera Anderson?” She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m so sorry. That’s like having salt rubbed in a wound. I bet she enjoyed springing the news on you.”
“She sure did, but that’s not your fault. But why did you turn Louie down?”
“I haven’t. Not yet. He proposed to me over dinner at his place a few nights ago, but he didn’t want an answer right away. He knows about your uncle Houston and how hard it was for me to lose him, so he didn’t want to pressure me into making a decision. That was a relief, to be honest. I was so surprised that I wouldn’t have been able to give him an answer right then.”
I understood that. Aunt Gilda had married Houston when she was nineteen years old, and he’d died of a heart attack thirty-three years later. They’d been madly in love right up to the end, and his death had been a devastating shock to the whole family, but of course no more so than to Gilda. It had taken her years to find true happiness again. That didn’t happen until she started her new life here in Shady Creek and opened her own salon.
“I understand about needing time. It’s a big decision, especially since it would mean moving away from Shady Creek. Unless Vera got that part wrong too.” I hoped she had.
“No, that part is true. Louie’s been talking about moving to Maine for some time now. He’s got a second grandchild on the way and he wants to be closer to his family so he can be more involved in their lives and see the grandkids grow up. I completely understand that.”