by Kaye George
“You have new shoes?”
Yolanda lifted one shoulder with no enthusiasm. “I’ve had them awhile. I don’t believe I’ve ever worn them before.” They weren’t her usual flamboyant style—plain black ballet flats.
How was Tally going to bring up the scissors? She had to know where they were. She wanted to know that they hadn’t been used to kill Gene. She scrubbed her mixing bowl with more than her usual force. “So, did you get that basket done?”
“Basket? Oh yes, that basket. Not yet. I’ll deliver it today. The customer called, and I said I’d be there in an hour. She said that would be okay.”
“Will you be able to finish it?” Without your scissors?
“Sure. It’s almost done. It only needs the ribbon. Did I leave that here?”
At last, an opening. “Yes, you did. Here they are.” Tally wiped off her hands on her apron and picked up the two ribbon spools she had stuck into a drawer to keep them clean during the flurry of candy making. “I don’t see your scissors, though.” Tally swiveled her head to gaze around the kitchen. “I thought you left those here, too.”
Yolanda drew back the hand she had stretched out to take the ribbon. “Gosh. I wonder…where…they could be.”
Yolanda sounded like a robot when she said that. Her hand shook slightly, too. Tally was horrified at her first thought, but tamped it down. Her friend did not kill Gene. Was she shocked because she realized the scissors might be the murder weapon?
“No idea. If I see them, I’ll let you know. Do you have another pair?”
“Oh sure. I have others.” Yolanda reached out again and this time took the ribbon. “Thanks. I’ll go finish that basket right now. I need to get it delivered.”
She hopped off the stool and fled out the back door. Tally was left with the scent of a batch of homemade Twinkies wafting from the oven. That smell usually made her feel comfy and cozy, but, for some reason, it left her thinly forlorn and cold inside today.
* * * *
Yolanda blinked back tears on her way to Bella’s Baskets. It might be reasonable for the police to suspect her, but Tally? It seemed like Tally wasn’t believing what she said. Yolanda hadn’t been completely truthful, she knew, but if her best friend suspected her of murder…
Her life was such a mess right now. She’d been dating a user. Her business was teetering on the brink of going under. Her family clearly thought her little sister was so much better than she was.
She pushed open the door to her shop. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust from the bright July sun to being indoors.
When they did, she saw a strange woman standing in the middle of the floor. Rats! She had forgotten to lock the front door again.
“Can I help you?” Yolanda put on a smile, hoping her eyes weren’t red.
“Yes, I need a party basket. My granddaughter is turning sixteen, and I want to wow her. I’m giving her a car and would like to tuck the keys in the bottom.”
Yolanda perked up as ideas started flooding in. “Oh yes, that would be great. We could use carnations, get it? Car-nations? Maybe some driving gloves, a car charger for her phone.”
“What good ideas! I’m glad I came to you for this.”
“What kind of car? I can maybe get some coasters with the make and model on it.”
Partially energized after the woman left, Yolanda decided to deliver the basket with the yellow ribbon, show Tally the fake candy prices, then close the shop and go home. Maybe a long, hot bath would wash away some of her anxiety.
* * * *
Andrea came into the kitchen a short time later. “Did your friend leave?”
“Yes,” Tally said, wondering how she knew Yolanda had been there. “Were we talking too loud?”
Andrea blinked. “No, I don’t think so. But I heard you. I wanted to ask her something if she was still here.”
“Ask me. I’m going over to look at some printouts in a few minutes, as soon as she gets back from a basket delivery.”
Andrea waved her off. “No, that’s okay. I’ll ask her later.” Andrea stared at her toes.
“Oh, you have new shoes, too?” Tally said. “Didn’t you just get new ones?”
“This is an extra pair. I haven’t ever worn them here before.”
“Do you need a lunch break? You’ve been working nonstop.”
“Yes, I would like one. I need it.” Andrea whipped off her apron and hung it on a hook on the wall. “I won’t be gone long. Thanks.” She went out the squeaky back door.
That was rather abrupt, Tally thought. After trying so hard to get Andrea to take a break the other day, she’d scooted off now like she was late to something important. Andrea didn’t usually use the back door. Tally glanced out the door and down the alley. Andrea was already nowhere to be seen. Had she gone into Yolanda’s shop? Yolanda was probably out delivering the basket by now. Andrea had said she wanted to ask Yolanda something. What could that be?
Tally mentally shrugged, shoved another batch of Twinkies into the oven, took the timer with her, and went to fill in at the front of the store.
* * * *
That evening Tally and Cole had dinner together at her house. She was glad to cook for him and spend some time with him. He’d been with Mart for lunch and then again after the shop closed at seven o’clock. She had so many questions. She wanted to know if he had more news about their parents, and, most of all, what his plans were for that cat.
“That cat” was, at the moment, rubbing his broad, black furry side against Tally’s legs as she carried two plates of tuna casserole to her kitchen table.
“Nigel,” she said, trying to be stern with him, “you’re going to make me trip.”
Cole laughed. “You have to be an agile walker with him around. He doesn’t let people get very far without his help.”
“Help? I call it a hindrance.”
“But he’s so cute. Right?”
Tally looked down at the cat’s wide-eyed, innocent face, above a blob of wild, white, soft fur. “Is he part lion?”
“I suppose every cat is part lion. They’re all felines.”
“I mean, is he recently part lion?”
Cole laughed again. “He’s cute. That’s all I know.”
Tally somehow made it to the table without spilling anything. She set the plates down and sat. “You get our drinks. I don’t want to chance another trip.”
“Ha. Another trip—I get it.”
Tally didn’t, since she hadn’t tripped yet. Her slight frown at his bad pun evaporated in an instant. She had never been able to be mad at her younger brother. A little upset sometimes, but never angry. He was five years younger, only thirty, and she could always find excuses for his behavior. Sure, he was spoiled, but that’s because he was the baby. Sure, he didn’t have a solid plan for his future, but he was still young and had plenty of time to make one—and to settle down. Sure, he treated women badly, but…that one was harder for her to rationalize. She often brushed it off as a product of their traveling all over the world with their parents’ performing career. If she dug deeper, though, she would see that she hadn’t been affected in the same way. However, maybe she’d been affected in other, equally crippling ways. After all, her personal love life was, well, nowhere. Missing.
But for now she had to find out about Mart. After Cole had gotten some food in his stomach, Tally started in. “So. Mart. You’re seeing her?”
“Nothing serious.”
“That’s good, because I’m not quite sure you’re the only one she’s seeing.”
“Really?” Cole raised his head from his plate and widened his eyes in mock surprise. He knew? And he didn’t expect her to be a one-man woman? “She’s…having some trouble.”
“She is?” Her employees never told her anything, obviously. “What kind? Health kind? Money trouble kind?” Was Mart steali
ng from her?
“Kind of. I mean she needs money for the trouble she’s in.”
“Did you give it to her?” That wasn’t good.
He nodded.
“I’ll tell you the truth, Cole. I’m asking because someone is filching money from my till and it might be her. Are you sure she’s not using you?” There was a lot of that going around. Gene taking money from Yolanda, Mart taking money from Cole, someone taking money from her, Tally. “Gene was taking money from Yolanda that he never intended to repay, and I think Mart was seeing Gene as well.”
“He’s the guy who died in your shop, right? So I guess Mart isn’t exactly seeing him.”
“I mean before he died, silly.” She took a few bites of the tuna casserole, crunching the potato chip topping. “Think about this. What if Gene and Mart were partners in crime? What if they were both swindling money from people?”
“I wouldn’t call it swindling. It’s borrowing. But why would they do that? To run off together?”
Tally considered that. “It’s not an impossible theory.” Gene’s bad boy behavior had been making it harder and harder for him in this town. It made it hard for Josef Faust, too. Surely Gene would be a hindrance for his career if it got around that he blithely took people’s money. For instance, Yolanda had told Tally that she’d lent him money Yolanda could ill afford to lose. Had Gene been planning on running off with Mart as soon as she took enough money from the shop—and now from Cole, whom she’d just met? “How much did you give her?”
“Look, Sis, she really does need the money. It’s for something specific.”
“And you’re not going to tell me what?”
“I can’t. It’s very personal.”
“I need to know if she’s contagious. Whether or not she should be working with food.”
“No, nothing like that.”
And that was the end of that discussion.
“Is your finger bothering you?” Cole asked. “You can’t even bend it, can you?”
“The cut is right on my knuckle, so that’s where the bandage has to go.”
“You could put it on so you could bend your finger, though.” Cole pushed his chair back and stood. “Where are your bandages?”
Tally told him they were in the medicine cabinet of the bathroom. Cole got some supplies and rebound her finger so that it was curved.
“That’s much more comfortable,” Tally said, holding her hand up and inspecting the job he’d done. “Very nice. Thanks.”
“No problem. I cut myself a lot working on sculptures. I know all the tricks.”
Her doorbell rang.
“Who is that this late?” Tally said, annoyed, getting up to answer it.
She opened the door to see her landlady, Mrs. Gerg. The woman was short, a lot shorter than Tally, who wasn’t tall. She was sturdy, though, and her clothes were sturdy, too. The crop pants and short-sleeved top she wore tonight looked like they were made of brown burlap. The only thing that wasn’t substantial about her was the poor woman’s hair. You could see her pink scalp through the thin gray curls clustered about her round head.
“Oh, hi, Mrs. Gerg.” She knew why the woman was there.
“See what I found for you, dear.” Mrs. Gerg thrust a small box toward Tally.
Tally took it and inspected the heavy wooden box, carved with dragons. The lid, which didn’t fit well, started to slip off, but Tally caught it before it hit the porch floor.
“I know you like boxes and thought you would love this.” Mrs. Gerg beamed as Tally tried to show appreciation for the gift.
“Where did you find it?”
“You would never believe it. It was at that house three blocks over, with all the kids’ toys in the yard all the time. Who would suspect they had Asian treasures in their house?”
Mrs. Gerg was a yard sale addict. She must walk miles a day on the weekends, going from one sale to the next and picking up trinkets at many of them. She’d started bringing Tally some of her finds as soon as Tally had moved in. It was true, Tally had a small collection of various sized and shaped boxes on a chest near the front door, but she would soon run out of room for them if Mrs. Gerg kept bringing more and more boxes to her.
As for this being an “Asian treasure,” Tally thought she would find that it was a cheap reproduction of something that was not very grand to begin with, if she dug around for information on it. Which she wouldn’t do. That would be ungrateful.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Gerg.” She set it next to the square porcelain box with a delicate butterfly on top that Mrs. Gerg had brought her a few days ago. “It’s Wednesday. Were they having a sale today?”
“Oh, heavens no. I got this last weekend and didn’t have a chance to go through everything yet. I might have one more box from that day when I get through sorting it all out.”
Tally very much wanted to tell her she didn’t need any more boxes, but didn’t have the heart.
“I saw that young woman out running again,” Mrs. Gerg said, leaning in for confidentiality. “I see her all the time. She’s going to wear out those young knees. You can’t run all the time like that without damaging something.”
Tally knew she was talking about Andrea.
“Should you say something to her?” Mrs. Gerg asked. “She works for you, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, she does, but I can’t tell her what to do when she’s not in my shop. I think she’ll be okay.”
“Well, all right, if you say so. I might stop her and talk to her about it someday, though,” she said with a wink. “Is your finger okay?”
“Oh yes, it’s fine. I only have a little cut.”
The woman was a busybody. She walked all over the town and probably knew a lot about everyone.
Tally thanked her again and told her good night. As she walked away, Tally noticed her shoes. They were flimsy black flats considerably run down at the heels. In spite of their condition, they didn’t impede her progress at all. The woman probably wore out several pair a year, walking so much. Tally hoped she could pick up more shoes at yard sales.
After she and Cole finished eating and Cole left to do whatever it was he was doing, she thought long and hard about their earlier conversation. What on earth was Mart’s personal problem that Cole couldn’t tell her? Could she be pregnant? She’d been sick one morning. That could be morning sickness. At least she knew that if Mart was carrying a baby, it couldn’t be Cole’s. He hadn’t been here long enough for that. All of her speculation, she knew, was based on the shaky assumption that Mart was being truthful with Cole.
She stroked the huge cat that was sprawled in her lap, purring.
“What do you think, Nigel? Who’s going to get hurt here, Cole or Mart?”
He stared into her face with his gorgeous amber eyes and wrinkled the black fur on his forehead. Was he considering her question? If only he had the answer.
Chapter 6
When Mart came in to work around eleven o’clock the next morning, Tally tried to detect any signs she might be pregnant, but didn’t see them. She wondered if she’d been with Cole last night when he left after dinner.
What a mess! Messes! Messes even beyond the awfulness of Gene’s murder. Gene had been seeing Yolanda and Andrea, at least, and maybe Mart, too. Was Mart leading Cole on? Her thoughts halted right there. If Mart was toying with Cole, it might teach him a lesson—serve him right. She wouldn’t warn Mart against getting serious about Cole; she would let the relationship take its course. She wondered about the fact that Mart didn’t seem to be grieving for Gene as Andrea seemed to be. Maybe it wasn’t even Gene she had seen in the car with Andrea the other night…but maybe it was.
Andrea, meanwhile, was working, taking frequent breaks in the kitchen to give in to her quiet weeping. Tally had tried to tell her, both that morning and the day before, to take a day or two off, but she wanted
to work. “It keeps my mind occupied,” she’d said.
At noon Tally got a call from Detective Jackson Rogers to come in to the police station and sign her statement. “I’ll be there in an hour, if that’s okay,” she said. He assured her that one o’clock would be fine. She’d had to pick up brown sugar on her way in this morning, so her car was out back. She’d gone through more brown sugar than she’d thought she would, and her next delivery wasn’t for a couple of weeks yet. She told Mart, who was working beside her, that she had to go to the police station.
“Have you signed a statement?” she asked Mart, who blinked at her blankly. “You know, about where you were and what you were doing when Gene…died?”
“No, nobody asked me to. I was working in the front of the store the whole time. I didn’t go to the kitchen at all.”
“I know that, but they asked for the names of my employees, so I thought they might get statements from both of you.”
“Maybe they’re skipping me because of my parents.”
Tally raised her eyebrows. “Your parents?” She didn’t know anything about Mart’s family.
“Yeah, they’re good friends with the Fausts. I’ve known Gene since he came to live with them. My parents are really upset about him being dead like that.”
So Mart thought her parents had pull with the mayor so she wouldn’t be questioned. Interesting.
Tally left a few minutes before one o’clock to go to the police department on East Main Street at the edge of town, driving through another brilliant sunshiny day, the sky filled with high, wispy cloud fragments. She asked for Detective Rogers at the front desk and was directed to a small office down a short hall, where he motioned her to the chair in front of his desk. As she took the form from him, she noticed his eyes were exactly the same intriguing shade of gray that Gene’s had been. What a world of difference, though. Gene’s expression had never been as earnest as that of Detective Rogers, nor had he ever looked nearly as intelligent. This man looked like no one could put anything past him.