by Laina Turner
“The trouble Chad got into a couple years ago was with Susan Milford’s son. They both got busted for drugs. Minor level stuff. Possession, but not enough for intent to sell so they just got probation. But Susan’s son claimed it was Chad’s and Chad claimed it was his. Not an unusual defense pointing fingers at someone else. Anyways, there was an ugly scene in court and Susan went on a social media smear campaign that almost ruined Molly’s dad’s CPA practice. So there is some bad blood there.”
OK then. That wasn’t what I was expecting to hear, and it did make it look bad for Molly. However, it didn’t change my opinion.
“I still don’t think she killed Susan. Why would she? That happened years ago. Why kill her now?”
He shrugged. “Who knows why people do what they do.”
“She didn’t do it,” I insisted.
“OK, I want to believe you, but until she comes in and talks to me this isn’t looking good for her. I can’t take your word for it. The longer she waits to give her statement, the more it seems she has something to hide.”
“I’ll talk to her and get her to call you. Tomorrow. I promise.”
Chapter 10
What are you thinking about?” Molly asked.
“What?” I turned my head in her direction and the steam drifted up from the steamer wand. She’d caught me daydreaming. I was supposed to be steaming a new shipment of wide leg pants that came in earlier, so we could put them out on the sales floor.
“You’ve been steaming the ceiling for a couple minutes now.” She grinned.
“Geez, I’m losing it.” I rolled my eyes and bent over to turn the steamer on warm. “We’ve had horrible traffic the last couple days since that incident with Susan Milford. It just worries me. I know I need to give it time, but I can’t stop obsessing.”
I tried to figure out the best way to approach Molly with what Willie told me last night. I knew it was in her best interest to talk to him, so it didn’t look like she had anything to hide, but I felt bad bringing it up. It would make things awkward if I brought it up. That’s the last thing I wanted.
“I know,” she said sympathetically. “We just have to be patient. Things will turn around.”
“I hate being patient,” I grumbled.
“Well, unless you want to solve this yourself you don’t really have a choice. You have to wait for the cops to do their thing and for people to forget about what happened.”
She had a point. I wasn’t going to be able to relax until this was solved so why not help Willie out? The whole two heads are better than one thing and all. Not like I hadn’t done it before. Though Cooper and Willie seemed to get irritated when I inserted myself in these things. But it’s not like I asked for this to happen. Silk was my livelihood. I couldn’t just stand by and wait.
“Maybe you’re right.”
“Wait. I was kidding.”
“I know, but it’s not a bad idea. Willie told me last night they don’t have any leads yet.” Except maybe you because you won’t talk to him.
Molly gave me a funny look. I got the feeling she didn’t really think they needed my help. “OK. Maybe they don’t, but I have to do something. I’m going crazy here. Can you take over for me?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” I walked to the back and sat down at my computer. I typed in ‘Susan Milford’. Several news reports of the ‘incident’ as I called it popped up and I had read most of them already, searching for signs of Silk being mentioned, which is how I knew she was married. Luckily the references to Silk were mostly in passing, but if anyone Googled Silk expecting to find our website right now, it was buried under news of the murder. Not exactly what I wanted to be known for. I hadn’t really looked for any information about Susan that might give me a starting point for finding out what happened to her. It was as good a place to start as any.
Most of the articles had the same information. They said Susan was fifty-four, had three grown children, a husband, Thomas, who was an engineer, and was well known for her charity work. As were most of the women who shopped here. Those were the only details the articles had about her personally. Some being a little more detailed about her charity work, but that didn’t help me.
I wondered if she was on Facebook. A long-shot, but worth checking out. Facebook stalking was usually effective.
I easily found her on Facebook, which was both nice and scary at the same time to think about how truly easy it was to find out almost any information you were looking for. Susan had a lot of friends, many of which had posted their condolences on her Facebook Wall, which was a little creepy. I couldn’t help but think maybe one of these many friends was also her murderer. Weren’t a lot of murders committed by people you knew? I clicked on the friend’s tab and we didn’t have any mutual friends. No big surprise. It’s not like we ran in the same circles. I started scrolling down to see if any names jumped out at me. I knew it was a long shot, but these high society charity ladies all seemed to know each other, at least the ones who shopped at Silk, so it wasn’t completely crazy to think she’d be friends with someone else who I knew as a customer.
I kept scrolling, wishing she has less friends. This was getting tedious. Finally, I came across the name Bess Anders.
Bess was a frequent customer at Silk and I genuinely liked her. Which honestly, I couldn’t say about all of my customers. She was friendly and always sweet to me and the staff. She wasn’t demanding or condescending. I looked up her number in our customer database and reached for the phone. I paused for a second before I picked up the receiver. While she was a nice lady, she might not appreciate me asking her about her recently murdered friend and I sure didn’t need any more bad press or gossip regarding Silk. But I also needed this current situation to be cleared up so things could go back to business as usual.
What the heck. What’s the worst that could happen? She hangs up on me and never darkens Silk’s door again? That might happen anyway in this current state of events. So I didn’t have much to lose either way. I dialed the number and Bess answered on the first ring.
“Hello,” she said, and I recognized her soft-spoken voice.
“Hi, Bess. This is Presley Thurman from Silk. How are you today?” Geez, I sounded like I was a telemarketer.
“Hi. Are you calling me about the Vera Wang in a size ten? Did it come in? I wasn’t expecting it for a few more weeks.” She sounded excited her dress might be in and it made what I wanted to ask even more difficult.
“Uh. No. It hasn’t come in yet.”
“Oh.” She sounded confused and of course she was. I’m sure she wondered why I was calling her if it wasn’t to tell her the dress she ordered was in and at this point I was almost wondering the same thing. This was probably a bad idea but too late now to back down. It’s not like I could hang up and pretend I never called.
“I was wondering if you had a minute to talk to me about Susan Milford.”
There was a long pause. She was probably wondering if she should hang up on me. I may have in her shoes. Finally, she spoke.
“What about Susan? God rest her soul.”
OK, this was good. She didn’t hang up and she didn’t seem angry.
“Well, ah. I was wondering—”
“Sure I can meet you for coffee. Hubbard’s in thirty minutes? Sounds good. I’ll see you then,” Bess interrupted me, her voice changing to one more precise and business-like. She hung up when she finished talking.
I stood there, holding my phone in my hand with a confused look on my face.
What just happened? What did she mean? Did she want me to meet her for coffee? Or did she have Tourette’s syndrome and randomly blurted that out? If that was her odd way of telling me she wanted to meet me, I’d have to hurry. Hubbard’s wasn’t very close to Silk and you never knew what traffic would be like. I grabbed my purse and walked out to the front.
“Where are you going?” Molly asked as I reached the front door. I’d been hoping she wouldn’t ask.
“I
’ll be back in a couple hours. Call in Arin if it gets busy.”
Molly’s mouth started to open again, probably because I didn’t answer her question, but I scooted out before she could ask me again. I felt a little pang of guilt for not asking her about why she lied about going down to the police station, but I’d do that when I got back. I decided catching a cab would be the fastest way to get there, so I walked to corner and hailed one. Luck was with me traffic-wise and I got to my destination ten minutes early.
I’d only been to this coffee shop a couple times. For no other reason than it wasn’t in my triangle of places I frequented. But if I remembered correctly, they had great coffee and the inside was beautiful. Very rustic and outdoorsy, much like the Caribou Coffee I’d once been to in Minneapolis. I looked around and saw Bess was already here. And here I thought I was early. She looked well put together, as usual. Her blond bob had every hair in place and her makeup accented her blue eyes. It looked like it was applied by a professional. If my memory served me correctly she was in a dress from the spring season. It made me happy when I saw people in clothes from Silk. Made me feel I was doing something right.
I was glad I took extra time with my appearance this morning. I had on a simple white and black polka dot dress in an A-line cut. Flattering, yet comfortable.
I pretended not to see her and went to get my coffee. I needed a few more minutes to compose myself and figure out what to say. I really hadn’t expected her to be here, thinking it was just her way to get me off the phone by sending me on a wild goose chase.
I collected my coffee from the other end of the counter and turned around. Scanning the crowd again, I caught Bess’ eye and walked over to her table and sat down.
Bess looked at me for a minute before speaking. “So, what do you want to know about Susan?”
I cleared my throat. “Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Bess waved at me. “Don’t try to pretend you wanted to talk to me to offer your condolences. Get to the point. Susan was murdered in your store, so I assume you want to know why.”
Wow. This was a much different Bess than the customer who came in Silk. That Bess was sweet and soft-spoken. This one was straightforward and to the point. I doubted I’d be a fan of this one.
“How well did you know Susan? Do you know why anyone would want to kill her?” I leaned forward in my chair so I could lower my voice. Not that anyone was paying attention but why take that chance?
There was a long pause, which started to get a little uncomfortable and it took all my willpower not to fidget. She stared at me not, seemingly bothered by the uncomfortableness at all which made me feel even more self-conscious. I wondered if she was going to say anything when she finally spoke.
“We were more acquaintances than friends.”
“So, you didn’t really know her?”
“I knew enough. Enough to determine we’d never be more than casual acquaintances. She had a perchance for borrowing things that weren’t hers,” she scowled, which wasn’t a good look on her.
I looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?” Could someone have killed Susan for not returning something she borrowed? That seemed a little extreme, but stranger things happened.
“She liked to borrow people’s husbands.”
“Oh.” Now it was my turn to sit in silent shock. I mean, what the hell did you say to that? Sorry somehow didn’t seem appropriate. “Yours?” I almost hated to ask but I had to know.
“Among others.” She shrugged like it was no big deal.
Silence again and we just stared at each other. I wondered if Willie knew this? It certainly opened up the suspect pool. Nothing worse than a woman scorned and all that. “You didn’t kill her, did you?” I said to see how she would react. I mean, this conversation couldn’t get any weirder.
“Do you think I’d tell you if I did?” She said. It almost looked like she was amused by my question.
“Probably not, but I had to ask. Assuming it wasn’t you, who do you think killed her?”
“Why would I tell you that either?” She said defensively.
“Why wouldn’t you? Unless you’re protecting someone, or you have something to hide?”
Bess hadn’t shown much expression so far and I couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Suddenly she broke out in a smile and laughed. “I think I like you. No. I have nothing to hide and honestly, I know several women who weren’t very happy with Susan but none who might want to kill her. That’s a little extreme and not how we normally take care of problems such as these.”
“You’re sure Susan had affairs with more than just your husband?”
“Yes. She got around. And even if the husbands tried to keep it secret, she didn’t care much to. Why would someone who was married brag about having affairs? Unless she had an open marriage or something.”
“Are you getting a divorce?” I asked.
“No. Why would I?” she asked and looked almost amused I’d asked her that.
I didn’t have a response because frankly anything I said would be potentially offensive and I certainly didn’t want to offend her. Especially now when I’d made it to this point of her sharing information.
When I didn’t answer, she started talking again. “Listen, I know it may seem odd and you might wonder why women stay with men who cheat. Life is complicated and so is divorce and when there’s a significant amount of money involved it gets even more complicated. There are certain things certain people are willing to put up with.”
“Did all the women whose husbands cheated with Susan feel the same way?”
She nodded. “For the most part.”
I couldn’t imagine staying with a cheater no matter how much money was at stake. But did that mean there might be one of the women who wasn’t willing to let things slide? As if reading my mind, Bess went on. “Theresa Douglass and Kitty Davin. They weren’t too happy about what Susan did and they’ve been very vocal about it. Saying we needed to do something. But what can you do? Cheating isn’t a crime.”
No, it wasn’t, but could it cause someone to commit one?
Chapter 11
“Presley!”
I looked up. “What? Did I miss something?”
“I’ve called your name three times. Dreaming about budgets?” Molly said, after looking at my desk where I’d been reviewing how much money there was, or rather credit, to buy more fall pieces. It was what I’d been doing since getting back from having coffee with Bess. Probably a mistake because I wasn’t at my most alert late in the afternoon.
“A nightmare is more like it. I’m sorry. I’m just distracted. I’ve been this way all day. First the steamer, now daydreaming. I’m ready for this day to be over.”
“You’ve got a lot going on. Is there anything I can do to help?” She sat down on the chair by my desk.
I shook my head. “No. It’s the murder, the mugging, and waiting for both those things to be resolved and I don’t know. On top of everything here, we went to dinner with Cooper’s new partner and his wife the other night and something seems off about that too. But maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who’s off.”
“You don’t like them?”
“It’s not that. I didn’t love how his new partner, Bill, treated his wife but other than that they were fine. Fun to talk to. In some ways I felt they were trying too hard to laugh and be happy. Some parts of the night seemed forced.”
“Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? Of course they want to impress you. They want you to like them, so they would try hard. I don’t think that’s unusual.”
I mulled that over and she had a point. Maybe I was being too quick to judge. I thought about how Cooper and I might act in the same situation; the first-time meeting someone could be nerve-racking. And with everything I had going on, I wasn’t totally myself either.
“I guess you’re right. Regardless, I need to focus on work. So, what were you trying to tell me when I was lost in thought?”
“Leigh Win
ters is out on the floor and wants to talk with you.”
I groaned. Leigh was one of the more high maintenance of my high maintenance clients. She always had a complaint about something, but then she bought a lot when she shopped which was often. Dealing with her behavior was just part of the job—just not one I enjoyed.
I pushed myself out of my chair to go listen to whatever complaint she had today, and Molly could sense my reluctance knowing I was anticipating a difficult conversation.
“Today might be your lucky day because I don’t think she’s here to complain. She said something about a ball?”
That made going out there more palatable. I could deal with anything that wasn’t complaining. Then it dawned on me. “The upcoming masquerade ball for the zoo?” I’d heard one of the customers talk about it last week. It was a big deal.
Molly shrugged. “I don’t know, she didn’t say. Is that a good thing? Your face is telling me it’s a good thing. Maybe this is the thing we need to help turn things around? Besides the sale tomorrow.”
“Yeah. It could be a very good thing.”
“Hi, Leigh,” I said as I reached her out on the sales floor. “What can I help you with? We got in some beautiful handbags I haven’t even put on the floor yet that I think you’d love. I can pull them from the back if you’d like to see them.”
“I do like a good handbag, but that’s not why I’m here. I’d like to speak to you. I attended the last charity function you helped with and it was nice.” Leigh said ‘nice’ like it was painful but that was probably the best I’d get from her, so I’d take it. A nice from some of these high society ladies was high praise. “I’m the chair of the zoo events committee and for this year’s big gala fundraiser we are having a masquerade ball. But we don’t want anyone wearing tacky masks so I was hoping you could find a vendor and source them for us, and we will make everyone come buy them from you. That way I can approve them and we won’t have anyone showing up in something from Costumes R Us or some such place,” she said distastefully.