A Killing Notion: A Magical Dressmaking Mystery

by Bourbon, Melissa

  There was no response, but I could hear her ragged breath. Finally, she answered. “When the Bliss Bubba’s opened, we were supposed to see an increase in our income, but that never happened. We’re in worse shape now than ever before. And do you know why?”

  Everyone knew why. Mrs. Blake had no more secrets, and couldn’t escape the lies and betrayal of her husband. But it was a rhetorical question because she went on, not waiting for me to answer.

  “Because,” she said, “he married someone else, had a whole ’nother family. What kind of house do they live in?” she asked.

  “Mrs. Blake, don’t—”

  “Don’t what? He broke my heart! He stole everything from me. Every memory I have of him is tainted. It’s all lies.

  “Let me tell you where they live. It’s not a trailer park. There aren’t stupid Mustangs parked everywhere. They have a pool and a gardener and God knows what else. That other family got everything that should have been ours. Those kids have iPods and cars and all the name-brand clothes they could ever want.”

  She was ranting, but she was one hundred percent right. Because Eddy had become Chris Montgomery, he siphoned off half, or maybe more, of his income to support Reba and the Montgomery kids. No matter how anyone tried to spin that, Mrs. Blake was the most injured party. A cold feeling rushed through me knowing that she’d driven to Bliss and had seen the Montgomery house. I didn’t blame her, but on the other hand, the knowledge scared me. I hadn’t pictured Barbara Ann Blake as a take-action kind of person, but she had sought out her husband’s other family.

  Had Miss Reba done the same? And if she did, what did she think of the Blake household?

  The blackmail angle had been a bust, but—my thoughts halted. She’d mentioned the Montgomery kids’ iPods. Was that coincidence, or did she know that they’d had them because she’d broken into their house? Could she have been the one standing over Miss Reba in her bed?

  Oh boy. Maybe Barbara Ann Blake really had killed her husband.

  Chapter 22

  Josie, Leslie, and Danica converged on Buttons & Bows at the same time. The girls had taken off their mums for the time being. Leslie held the door and Molly’s car seat, while Danica, who cradled baby Molly, and Josie, who was loaded down with her sturdy plastic tackle box filled with beads and a canvas tote emblazoned with her Seed-n-Bead logo, filed in.

  “We were like a race-car convoy, only I’m in a minivan instead of a cool ride,” Josie said as they came in.

  “Minivans come with being a mommy,” I said, wondering how I’d feel about trading in Buttercup for one. I hadn’t ever given much thought to being a mother. Work had always come first. The life of a fashion designer in New York wasn’t conducive to relationships, let alone motherhood.

  But now I was settled in Bliss, and Will and I had a good thing going. I looked at Josie’s baby. Maybe someday . . .

  Molly cooed and Danica fluttered her index finger under the baby’s chin. “She’s so precious.”

  She was. Tiny and delicate and vulnerable. I couldn’t quite imagine what it would be like to bring a life into the world, to be responsible for it, the worry and the joy. Eddy and Barbara Ann Blake had suffered, losing their daughter. Was it better to have had and loved her, only to have lost her, or not to have had her at all and never known that kind of pain?

  I tucked my wayward thoughts into the back of my mind. I couldn’t answer that question, but from the adoration on Josie’s face when she looked at her baby girl, and the awe on Danica’s as she cuddled her, I thought I knew what their answers would be.

  “The mums were a hit?” I asked.

  Both the girls nodded, grinning. “Gracie’s was the best with that sewing machine in the center,” Danica said, “but ours were awesome. I’ve never had a mum like that. I’m going to hang it on my bedroom wall after the game tonight.”

  The pregame homecoming activities would start in a few hours, so we had no time to waste. I ushered them all into the workroom, handing Leslie her dress. “It’s all done,” I said.

  She took the garment bag and hugged it close, smiling. “Thank you, Harlow. I love it so much!”

  A rush of pride filled me. There was no better feeling than giving someone so deserving what she wanted. “I’m so glad.”

  She unzipped the garment bag, staring in awe at the dress. Her fingers dusted the sapphire blue semisheer fabric. Seeing the happy look on her face, I knew that whatever her dreams were, they’d come true. She would be the belle of the ball.

  “It’s beautiful,” Danica said. She’d shifted Molly’s position, holding her against her chest, gently rubbing her back.

  Leslie pointed to the tangerine dress on the dress form. “Danica, look. Yours is gorgeous,” she said, and once again, I was grateful that these two girls had found each other.

  “We need to do the final fitting,” I said, “and we have some beadwork to finish up.”

  Danica’s eyes widened. “Beads?”

  Josie had placed her tackle box on the cutting board and removed a gray beading board, small cutters, needle-nose pliers, and round-nose pliers. She took out a second plush-lined tray and carefully laid down an intricately beaded belt made with deep blue glass beads.

  “What’s that for?” Danica asked.

  “It’ll complete the dress,” I said. I wrapped my hands around Molly’s torso and gently took her from Danica, cradling her in my arms. She was in a twilight sleep, her eyes fluttering open, her mouth forming a small O at the movement. I rocked her back and forth and she settled back to sleep. “Go try on the dress,” I told Danica.

  She got it off the dress form easily. Almost too easily, and I wondered if Meemaw was around, helping. She loved to be in the thick of the action, but she was usually not so subtle. I looked around for a ripple in the air, a flutter of the curtains, or any other of Loretta Mae’s telltale signs.

  My gaze hitched on the window. Thelma Louise had her nose pressed against the glass. I opened my mouth to shoo her away, but Molly stirred in my arms so I stopped, waving instead as if the Nubian goat would respond, narrowing my eyes to tell her that I still had my eye on her after her mum thievery.

  She didn’t budge, defiant thing. She did what she wanted, and I didn’t reckon that was going to change now just because I wanted it to.

  Josie was showing Leslie the beading for Danica’s dress. I started to turn toward them, but stopped when I caught a reflection in the window. It was faint, almost hidden by Thelma Louise, but the more I concentrated on the image, the more it came into focus and the goat faded. Loretta Mae was here, and while I couldn’t see her figure in the room, her faint reflection was there in the window. I couldn’t make out details, but my mind filled in the blanks. The snaps on her plaid cowgirl shirt, her curly ginger hair with the blond streak sprouting from her temple, and her mischievous grin made me shake my head and smile. God love her.

  I snuck a look around the room to see if any of my guests had noticed the ghost in the window. They hadn’t. Josie and Leslie were enthralled in their beading discussion. “You might could apply for a part-time job at Seed-n-Bead,” Josie was saying. “I’ve cut back my hours, what with the baby and all. And you seem to be a natural.”

  Leslie looked like she’d just won a five-million-dollar lottery. She nodded, an excited smile gracing her lips. Pink splotches colored her cheeks, giving her mocha skin a lovely glow. “Really? A natural?”

  Josie ran her fingers along the beads Leslie had just strung. “Oh yeah, I’d say so.”

  Maybe this was what Leslie wanted—to fit in and be part of the community. If it was, the dress I’d made her was already working its charm. And if she wanted something else, then she was getting a bonus with Josie.

  Danica was behind the privacy screen trying on her dress. I hoped there was no way she’d seen my great-grandmother’s ghost. If any one of my visitors had, Buttons & Bow
s would get a reputation for being haunted—not something that would be good for business.

  I winked at the reflection, grateful to see Loretta Mae, and equally thankful that she’d figured out how to be present without being obvious.

  Leslie had set Molly’s car seat just inside the door. I gently laid her in it, carrying it to just outside the workroom where we could see her, but where she’d be away from the hustle and bustle of the final fitting and the final beading.

  Danica emerged from behind the fitting screen, a vision in tangerine. The V-neck, one inch strap, and the fit of the bodice accentuated her waistline and the curves of her breasts, while the bottom of the dress hung perfectly, hitting her just above the knees and falling in soft, lush billows. The subtle structure of the microfiber combined with the softness of the bubble hem made it seem as if the dress floated around her legs.

  We all stared. Leslie’s jaw dropped. Josie shot a quick glance at Molly. Looking back at Danica, she drew in a deep breath, and I got the sense she was imagining her daughter in sixteen years getting ready for homecoming, the belle of the ball.

  Carefully, I picked up the completed beaded belt. Danica stepped onto the fitting platform. “I can’t breathe,” she whispered.

  I lost my own breath at that. The seams lay flat and nothing looked amiss. I knew my measurements were correct. “It’s too tight?”

  She laughed. “No! It’s perfect. I just mean, oh my God, I can’t breathe, you know? I’ve never had anything like this. I feel like a princess.”

  I released the air I’d been holding, relieved. “You look like a princess.”

  Ten minutes later, I’d marked a few small adjustments to make to the bodice and I’d figured out how to attach the beads to accent the dress and add just the right amount of interest without overwhelming the design.

  Josie and Leslie had almost completed the necklace Danica would wear, and by the time she went back behind the privacy screen to change into her regular clothes, we all felt like her fairy godmothers.

  “I’ll bring it to the brunch in the morning,” I told her when she emerged again. I took the dress and put it back on the dress form. I couldn’t see Meemaw next to me, but I caught the reflection of her backside in the window. The dress slid onto the dress form like butter.

  “Is Gracie’s done?” Leslie asked.

  I wish I knew. I’d tried to call her earlier, but she hadn’t answered. “I hope so.”

  “Bless her heart,” Josie said. “How’s she holding up?”

  “As best she can. It’s been tough on both her and Shane.”

  “Are they any closer to finding out who did it?”

  I didn’t think Hoss McClaine would want me talking about the letters Miss Reba had discovered, so I just said, “I can’t say for sure. I don’t want to believe it, but it seems to me like Mrs. Blake has the strongest motive.”

  “They say it’s usually the wife or the husband, don’t they?” Leslie asked.

  “Or someone the victim knows.” I sighed. “I think I have it figured out; then something else pops into my head that opens up a new possibility.”

  “Like who?” Danica sat on a stool at the cutting table, fingering the beads on the beading tray. “If it wasn’t Mrs. Blake, then who was it?”

  I couldn’t throw out the names of all the suspects for them to chew on, so I dodged the question. “The sheriff’ll figure it out. He’s got some other leads.”

  Danica fiddled with the beads, sucking her lips in over her teeth. She lifted her gaze to me. “Like what? Other suspects?”

  Once again, the letters popped into my mind, but I just shrugged. I didn’t want to give out confidential information. That’s just how rumors started, and suddenly different stories got melded together until not a single one of them was right.

  “I read the paper,” Leslie said, a hint of pride in her voice. “And I saw that Otis Levon is a partner in the business, and he’s going to inherit a big part of it. Mrs. Blake and Miss Reba split the rest equally, with portions going into a trust for their kids. So Shane’ll get something, I guess.”

  “I still can’t believe the guy had two families,” Josie said. “As if one isn’t hard enough.”

  “With Sue Blake dead,” I said, “I imagine her trust will revert back to Mrs. Blake.”

  “Is that their daughter?”

  I nodded. “Their only child.”

  Leslie’s voice grew soft and distant. “Oh my God, I hadn’t heard that.”

  “How . . . horrible,” Danica said, the words catching in her throat. She sounded even sadder than Leslie had. I could see the talk about loss of family was seeping into her, bringing back whatever she felt about losing her own family. These poor girls were too young to have to deal with the pain they had.

  “What a tragedy,” Josie said. Her cheeks were hollow and her skin had grown pale. I knew she was blindsided by the very idea of losing her precious daughter. It was unfathomable, and my heart ached for Barbara Ann Blake all over again.

  A heavy damper lay over us. We worked in silence for a while longer, wrapping up the beading. The home phone rang while we cleaned up. “Ms. Cassidy?” a young woman’s voice said when I answered. “This is Brandi. From—”

  “Yes, from Bubba’s,” I said. “I remember.” She could only be calling me for two reasons. One, she had some dressmaking need, which seemed highly unlikely since she’d indicated she hadn’t heard of my shop, or two, she had some information about Chris Montgomery’s death.

  I’d lay down money it was number two.

  “Right. I hope it’s okay I’m calling. You mentioned your shop. I looked it up to get your number.”

  “It’s fine. Call anytime.” Once again I employed Meemaw’s be quiet and listen tactic, hoping she’d cut to the chase.

  “You said to let you know if I thought of anything.”

  The excitement I’d tried to contain spilled over. “I did. I do. I’m so glad you called. Did you remember something? Otis . . . ?”

  She paused and I heard her draw in a bolstering breath.

  “No. Well, yes, he . . . but that’s not why I’m calling. You said something when you were here and it’s been bugging me.”

  “I did? What did I say?”

  Josie, Danica, and Leslie had all stopped what they were doing and stared at me, not even pretending not to listen.

  There was silence on the other end of the line. “Brandi? Are you there?”

  “I shouldn’t even get involved. It’s not my business and it doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

  “Do you know something that could help?” I asked.

  “I think Otis does. It’s about the burglary at the Montgomery’s.” She paused again and I could almost hear the wheels of her mind turning as she thought. “You know what? Never mind. He’ll have my hide if he finds out I called. Forget it,” she said, and then the line went dead.

  “Hello?” I jiggled the hook on the phone, trying to get the connection back. Nothing. She was gone.

  “What was that about?” Josie asked after I hung the phone back on the wall.

  “She started to say something, but then she changed her mind,” I said. I wanted to find out what she’d intended to say, but I also didn’t want to spook her by charging over to Granbury to confront her and demand to know why she’d called. By the time I got there, the store would be closed anyway.

  No, I needed to think about what to do and how to approach it. Maybe I needed to go straight to Otis.

  “What’d she say?” Josie asked.

  Danica and Leslie both waited, Leslie finally adding, “Yeah, why’d she call?”

  “I don’t know. It was nothing, I guess,” I said, although I sure didn’t believe that. I ushered the girls toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get y’all on your way to the game.”

  Their faces fell, thei
r disappointment at not hearing more about the conversation evident, but they let it drop. Leslie carried her garment bag over her arm, Danica held Josie’s tote bag, Josie had the car seat with Molly strapped in, and I brought up the rear with the tackle box. We headed out the front door, down the porch steps, and to the row of cars in front of the house.

  Josie was still a new mom, so it took her a few minutes to get Molly’s seat properly buckled in. Danica and I set the tote bag and box in the deep trunk of the minivan. After a quick hug, Josie pulled out, her taillights disappearing down Mockingbird Lane.

  “Thank you again.” Leslie said it first, then Danica, the same melancholy, yet grateful look on both their faces. Part of friendship was empathy, and they were both experiencing that in spades. It was hard to feel happy when friends were suffering.

  “Have fun at the game,” I said as they each got into their cars.

  “I will,” Leslie called through her open window.

  “Me, too. Thank you, Harlow.” Danica put her hand out and waved. They sped off in different directions, and I sent a silent wish after them that they’d both have a great time at the Bliss homecoming game.

  Then I went inside to call Will and pitch my plan to go pay another visit to Otis Levon.

  Chapter 23

  “You have no idea what she was going to tell you?” Will asked me from the driver’s side of his truck. A car zoomed past us in the opposite direction, its brights momentarily blinding us.

  “None,” I said after the car had passed and the stars I had been seeing dissipated. After the others had left, I’d tried to call Brandi back at the Granbury store, but it had gone straight to voice mail. “She said something I’d said was bothering her, and then she said Otis knew something that could help. She said it had to do with the burglary at the Montgomerys’.”

  “And he told this girl Brandi?”

  “Or she figured it out? I have no idea.” I threw my hands in the air, frustrated that I couldn’t seem to get anything concrete to help Shane. “She just changed her mind and hung up.”