Ruth Ann used the telephone on his desk then turned and strolled away. She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Have a fun weekend with the boys.”
“You have a fun one too. Maybe you can find your mother-in-law's suitcase.”
“Not a problem.” Ruth Ann paused at the door. “I put it under her bed the day she arrived.”
“Wait, you didn't tell me about Mike.” Tony began working on the next knot in the book.
“He said that Elmer Smith and Dudley Thomas got into a knockdown, drag out fight at the counter in Ruby's. Elmer evidently told Dudley if he didn't mend his ways and become a better person he was going to end up dead, just like Mr. Beasley.” Ruth Ann walked closer, leaned forward and pointed to the loose end of the cord. “It needs to come back up through here.”
“Thanks.” Tony did as she indicated and the new knot slid perfectly into place. “Does Mike need any help?” When Ruth Ann shook her head in negation, Tony relaxed. “What else happened?”
“I guess Dudley didn't feel like improving himself, although I wish he would. His nickname isn't Dud because he's so ambitious. Anyway, he tossed Elmer onto the floor along with a considerable number of dishes, and Ruby flipped out and called it in and Mike answered the call. When Mike arrived, Elmer was unconscious on the floor in the middle of the café and Dudley was holding a piece of a broken plate against Elmer's throat.”
Tony started untying the knots as Ruth Ann continued. “To make a long story short, Mike is bringing Dudley in now. Doc Nash is fixing Elmer up, and Ruby won't let either man back into her café.” She touched the edge of her fingernail checking it for dryness. Smiling with satisfaction, she sauntered out of his office.
Still holding the cord, Tony leaned back in his chair, his thoughts on Dudley Thomas. Dudley had spent some time in the county jail and was certainly no saint. His main crimes were usually drunk and disorderly behavior, public intoxication and car theft. The car theft charges were what Dudley preferred to think of as borrowing what he couldn't afford to buy. His target victims were almost always tourists from out of state who parked in Ruby's parking lot. It was strictly a matter of convenience for him. Dudley worked sporadically at his brothers' gas station. The station next door to Ruby's. On the occasions when he did work, he was the best auto mechanic in three states. Even he failed to fix Theo's minivan.
Tony knew when Mike arrived with Dudley. He could hear Dudley swearing in the back seat of the patrol car as it pulled into the parking bay. Tony met them in the interrogation room. “Did Mike read you your rights?” From across the room, he could smell Dudley. His odor was an unpleasant combination of sweat, grease and beer. The navy blue jumpsuit he wore had enough grease on the front of it to lubricate every hinge in Park County.
“Yeah, he did, like I'm not smart enough to know what they are without him going on and on about it. I got me a terrible headache.” Dud whined. “Can I leave now?”
“No.” Tony hooked his foot around the nearest chair and dragged it towards him.
Mike just smiled at the screeching sounds it made as it crossed the linoleum, but Dudley covered his ears with both hands and moaned.
Tony said, “Have a seat, Dudley.”
Dudley did as he was told. He crossed his arms on the table and rested his head on them. Seconds later he was snoring.
Tony looked at his deputy. “Ruth Ann gave me her version of the story. What's yours? You think he meant to harm Elmer?”
“Yeah. I think he was just drunk enough and just mad enough about something Elmer said that he would have killed him if the others hadn't gotten involved. I don't know how long you can lock up someone on ‘would have.’ ”
Tony shrugged. “What started it? Ruth Ann said something about a threat.”
“From what I gathered at the scene, Elmer accused Dudley of running up a lot of extra miles on his car when he was supposed to be checking the transmission. Evidently he billed Elmer for several hours when he was just driving around in Elmer's car. Elmer called it gouging and claimed Dudley was using his car for a personal trip. Dudley called it fair business practice.” Mike consulted his notes. “Five witnesses saw him slam Elmer in the face with a plate, knocking him off the stool, and then Elmer started fighting back. All of the diners jumped in then. I was only about a mile away when I got the call, but by the time I arrived Dudley had knocked Elmer unconscious and was threatening to kill him to keep everyone back. The piece of plate he was using as a weapon was sharp enough to have done a lot of damage. I have it in the car.”
“How is Elmer?” Elmer was in his early sixties and was fit enough to walk eighteen holes, carrying his golf clubs but Dudley was in his thirties and had an advantage of fifty pounds of muscle.
“Right now he is pretty dizzy and sick to his stomach. Doc says he'll have a headache for a couple of days. Lucky thing for him that Doc was having lunch there. Doc might have thrown a couple of punches himself.” Mike looked at Dudley, whose snores were increasingly loud. “How long are you going to let him sleep there?”
“His time's up.” Tony pounded on the metal table. The combination of the sound and vibrations had Dudley on his feet in seconds. As he pulled his arm back, his hand tightened into a fist and he snarled at Tony, his teeth gleamed white in his dirty face.
Mike had the handcuffs on him in the blink of an eye. “I think I'll just take this garbage on down to the jail.”
“Good plan.” Tony opened the door. “Let's call in Archie Campbell at the county attorney's office. I'll bet they charge him with assault, and Ruby will press charges over the damages to her café.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Friday evening, The Lodge was a happy place. Theo and her friends laughed and caught up with the news as they worked on their various projects. The older ladies had their frame set up and were busy hand quilting. Melissa and Susan were near enough to converse with, working with their sewing machines. Conversation covered topics from the best brand of needles to recent events.
Eleanor Liston entered the lobby with all of the dramatic flair she could muster. She had her current project clamped under one arm, and it dragged on the floor behind her like a train. One hand was filled with the special thirty-two ounce covered plastic coffee mug she always had with her. Her purse hung halfway off her shoulder, and she clutched an old shoebox, splitting open at the corners. “I don't know why we have to come all the way out to this godforsaken place. Surely there is a nicer place we could use.” She lost her grip on the shoebox and it dropped at her feet at the top of the lobby steps. The lid fell off and her spools of thread, scissors, and assorted notions spilled out and went in all directions.
No one offered to help gather up her belongings. Instead there was a series of muttered comments, one of which sounded like, “She's got more money than sense, so why won't she get something better to carry her stuff in than a twenty-year-old shoebox.”
Even as Eleanor harangued everyone within earshot about their lack of assistance, the sound of laughter announced the arrival of Martha and Jane. The pair came through the front doors like a pair of tornadoes. Only the tops of their heads were visible; Martha's gray curls were on the left and Jane's not quite natural brown on the right. Art Trimble rushed forward and rescued the bags and boxes they carried and sent Gavin out for another load.
Jane issued a command to the younger man's back. “Better take the cart. There's lots more.”
While they were arranging their possessions and finding the chairs they wanted to use, Theo waved to Beth and pantomimed blowing out the candles. Beth nodded and headed toward the kitchen. Art took her place behind the counter. After a quick check of the rooming list, he picked a pair of keys out of the open key drawer. As he handed one to Jane, he smiled at her, using his best innkeeper smile. “I hope you have a pleasant stay.”
When Martha reached for hers, he held on to the key and cleared his throat. “Um, Martha, I'm, um, I hope you enjoy your stay too.”
He headed for the kitchen, but the soun
d of his laughter caught Theo's attention. He sounded just like a barking seal. She wondered if he was Lila's married lover.
Scarlet LaFleur's entrance distracted her. The embroiderer swept through the doorway, descending onto the hotel like a queen returning from a long, long exile. She dropped a small bag near the front desk and glanced around. “Where's the help in this dump?”
Gavin's arms were filled with bags as he stopped in mid-step, automatically moving away from the elegant woman in a swirling red cape. Her jet black hair and large violet eyes did nothing to dispel his surprise. “I'm the help.” He finally managed to speak. “I'll be right with you.” He bolted down the hallway.
“Idiot.” Scarlet glanced around. “Is he the only employee?”
Theo opened her mouth to reply, but Martha beat her to it. “No, but the others are occupied at the moment.” She hustled to the front desk and checked the list. “Here you are.” She handed Scarlet a room key. “Up to the second floor, then go left.”
“And my bags?”
“Gavin will take them up as soon as he can.” Martha's teacher voice took over. She might work part-time at the folk museum now, Theo thought, but she could still command a crowd.
Theo managed to work her way out of her chair and stood at last. “Come down and meet everyone.” She gestured for Scarlet to join everyone in the work area. “We're just setting up a wedding quilt for one of our friends.”
With a haughty sniff and an elegant toss of her cape, Scarlet LaFleur condescended to join the apparent riffraff. Her lip curled. “Quilters are such a messy group.”
Having watched almost all of the women around her before, Theo could only grin and nod. Some of her friends were messier than others, but none of them could sew without creating a nest of thread bits. She found herself even more intrigued by Scarlet's presence among them. And why was she here a full week before the wedding?
Scarlet swept into the work space, commandeered the best chair, the best lamp and arranged them to suit herself. She managed to whack several quilters with her oversized purse without offering the slightest hint of apology. Flinging off her red velvet cape with a flourish, she uncovered a cream-colored cashmere sweater and a heavy gold necklace set with a large ruby.
She did not greet anyone, not even making eye contact. Instead, she reached into her large handbag and a moment later had on a headset, like a hands-free phone. Since most of the quilters were determined not to be disturbed by families calling on cell phones, a few eyebrows raised, but no one said anything.
Next Scarlet extracted an emery board and proceeded to work on her fingernails. The myriad lights around her caught on her ruby earrings, bracelet, and ring. She inhaled through her mouth, making a loud “Ah” sound, then released it in four short “ahs” descending the musical scale. As bored sighs went, it was a twelve on the melodrama scale of ten.
Theo saw some physical resemblance between Scarlet and her more famous sister, singing star Elf. Scarlet was about five years older and several inches taller than her sister, who was close to Theo's height. Very short.
Scarlet went through the sighs again. By the fifth time through, Theo considered sticking something in her mouth to stop the sounds.
As the last quilters settled down with their projects, their chatter almost drowned out the sounds of Scarlet sighing. With a sour expression on her face, Scarlet glanced at the woman to her left. “You're doing that wrong.”
Theo leaned forward, believing Scarlet picked the wrong person to criticize. Eleanor had never been known for her good behavior. The quilters tolerated her, mostly because they felt sorry for her, but Scarlet wouldn't know or care.
Eleanor glanced up. “I think you're a bitch.”
The clear case of the pot calling the kettle black made the chatter level around the room increase as the quilters left the pair to fight it out.
Scarlet stood, then stalked away when Gavin reappeared. The beleaguered young man had retrieved her multitude of bags from her car and now offered to show her to her room.
During Scarlet's absence, Theo was assailed by complaints from her friends. She had no defense. “It's not my fault. She asked to come here.”
A few minutes later, Scarlet was back. Her list of complaints had grown to include the size and decor of her room, Silersville, the world in general, her famous sister, and her unpleasant assessments of meals not yet served. “If the food is not up to my standards, I may not be eating here.” She glared at Theo. “I will not pay for mediocre meals, and you can't make me.”
Theo glanced over Scarlet's shoulder and saw obviously angry Art and Beth Trimble glaring at the woman's back. Luckily for Scarlet, neither of them held a knife.
Hoping a little genial conversation on a different subject would loosen up the woman, Theo said, “How did you get interested in Armenian embroidery?”
Scarlet smiled, clearly reveling in the attention. It might have been the first real smile any of them had seen on her face. “I learned from my mother-in-law.”
“I didn't realize you're married.” Theo blurted. The expression on Scarlet's face was not encouraging.
“I'm not.” There was no smile now. “There were too many ‘cultural’ differences. My husband and I parted ways after less than a year.”
Hoping to move the conversation to a happier path, Theo said, “Will you show us some of your embroidery pieces?”
Reaching into a large, expensive tapestry bag, Scarlet pulled out a piece of black velvet about three feet square. As she unfolded it, the room fell silent. The stunning, intricate needlework done in silver thread looked like something from a dream.
“Oh, my.”
“That's gorgeous.”
“Is that what we're learning to do? It's much prettier than the photograph.”
A pair of machine quilting wizards studied it. One said, “Maybe I could do it with an embroidery machine.”
“If I can't do it with my machine, I'm stuck.” Her sidekick's voice was a mere whisper. “I don't do anything by hand.”
“Tomorrow,” said Scarlet. She began her sigh down the scales again.
Martha and Jane were still sorting out their projects when Beth wheeled out a service cart bearing the sheet cake. The cake had been cleverly decorated to resemble a patchwork quilt, and there was a candle in each square. Fifty of them. The shelf below the cake held plates, silverware, napkins and champagne glasses. The waitress from the hotel coffee shop carried the two chilled bottles of champagne. The party officially began with the ritual singing of “Happy Birthday.”
Martha's expression of surprise and delight was unfeigned.
The fifty candles gave off a lot of light and heat. “That's a real fire hazard, Martha. If you don't blow those out soon, we'll have to cover it with a quilt,” quipped Dottie.
“Not one of mine.” Martha took a deep breath and managed to get most of the candles with the first blow. The second one finished the fire. “Okay, let's eat.”
Theo had her mouth full of sinfully rich chocolate cake when Eleanor attacked. “If that husband of yours comes by to ask me any more questions, I'll have him thrown out of office. There must be something more important for the sheriff to do than harass a poor defenseless woman.”
Theo had no idea what she was talking about and wasn't sure she'd survive a weekend with Eleanor and Scarlet.
Martha whirled around. “You? Defenseless? That's a laugh. You are as defenseless as a copperhead slithering through the grass. It wouldn't surprise me if you killed Mr. Beasley.” She balled her hands into fists and took a step closer to Eleanor. Before she could move again, her friends pulled her to the other side of the room and pushed her into a chair and handed her a glass of champagne.
Eleanor glanced around the room as if seeking support, but none was forthcoming so she didn't say more but settled into a comfortable chair on the fringe of the group. For most of the rest of the evening, she held her tongue. Soon the group settled down to work, and the festive atmosphere returned.
“When do we get the next clue for the mystery quilt?” Jane asked as she parted her bangs and clipped them to her scalp with little butterfly clips. Theo thought it was not a becoming hairstyle on her mother-in-law, but it did allow her to see what she was doing.
“I have it right here.” Theo reached into her big bag and pulled out a sheaf of papers. “Who needs one?” Several hands went up. “I have news, too. Katti and Claude already tied the knot.”
“We'd better get busy on their wedding quilt.” Jane clapped her hands to call them to attention. “Who brought their pink and brown fabrics?”
The project had been discussed at the shop. Katti Marmot loved colors. Lots of colors. All happened to be shades of pink. Rose pink. Baby pink. Hot pink. Pale pink. Pink stripes. Pink dots. So, when the quilters decided to make her a wedding quilt, the only real discussion was what color to add to the pink to tone it down a bit and let Claude feel like not everything in his masculine decor was disappearing. The quilters decided on brown.
Lots of hands went into bags, dragging out piles of pink and brown fabrics. When they added it together, there was probably enough to make three complete king-sized quilts.
“So, what should we make with all this?” Theo stared at the mountain of fabric.
Susan said, “We could make a sampler quilt. If we each make two twelve inch blocks, it should go pretty fast and use lots of different browns and pinks.”
The others nodded.
Betty, who was legally blind, piped up. “That's still going to be a very pink quilt.”
Martha's voice came from the doorway. “I'd pay a hundred dollars to see Marmot-the-Varmint's head on a pink pillowcase, covered with all those pinks in the quilt, a maybe a heart-shaped satin pillow of hot pink.”
“Wait until you see the backing fabric I found.” Theo dragged a large piece from one of her bags. “Look. It's chocolate brown with big pink hearts all over it. Kind of like Valentine's Day dragged through the mud.”
Barbara Graham - Quilted 03 - Murder by Music Page 7