by Quinn, Lucy
I got out of the car and joined Nora.
She grabbed my arm. "We don't want to arouse any suspicions. What's our story?"
"I've been thinking about that," I said. "We need a way to bring up Earleen and Artie. I was thinking we could say we're buying lingerie for a friend. And then pretend we don't know her size. But we show a picture of our 'friend' Earleen. We cross our fingers and hope we get a clerk who remembers them. But that we don't run into anyone who recognizes Earleen as the murdered woman from Cedar Valley."
"I wouldn't worry too much about that. The city's big enough that people don't pay attention to who's been murdered unless it's a really sensational case. Earleen's murder was barely a blip in the news here. Do you have a picture of her?"
"I pulled one from her Facebook page. And one of Artie, too, just in case."
Armed with a story and a prayer, we went in.
La Nuit was one of those tiny, upscale boutiques where you feel conspicuous just stepping in. It was almost like the moment you crossed the threshold, their security cameras were running a credit check on you. Could you really afford to shop here? All that aside, the ambience was total luxury.
The shop smelled delicately like sensual, expensive French perfume. If I could smell like that, I'd have my choice of men. The store was sparsely stocked with exquisitely beautiful camisoles, bras, and panties displayed on hangers hanging from statues and works of art. The underwear sets were all works of art themselves. It didn't take a trained eye to know they were quality. Dark walnut drawers lined the walls. Along one wall was a display of candles and perfume. The most expensive items must have been in the drawers behind the counter. In a thousand lifetimes, I couldn't imagine Artie setting foot in a place like this. Nor paying the prices. For any woman.
The beautifully turned out saleswoman greeted us with a smile, but it was also clear she was keeping an eye on us. You know you're in trouble when the salesperson is wearing more expensive clothes than you are. But who knows? Maybe beneath it all she wore undies from Walmart.
I smiled back at her and casually looked at a price tag on a pretty pair of thong panties draped on a table. One hundred and eighty-five dollars! I'd known this place would be expensive, but I was still shocked. The receipt at Earleen's was a gift receipt without prices. I put my hands in my pockets. These things should be behind glass.
Nora was unfazed. "Oh." She picked a pink thong up and gently rubbed it between her fingers. Fortunately, she was used to expensive clothes from both her modeling days and working on shoots now. "This is a top brand. Lovely. Perfectly lovely. So light and soft. Wearing it would be like wearing nothing at all." She sighed happily and whispered to me, "Let me handle this."
"It's all yours." I was never so glad she'd come with me.
She signaled to the saleswoman, who introduced herself as Lucy.
"Hi, Lucy. I'm Nora, and this is my friend Janie."
I nodded. Good move by Nora to give me an alias. And one I would easily answer to. I should have thought of that.
"We're looking for a gift for a friend," Nora said. "This is very nice, but do you have anything in the Coucher line? Something in nude, maybe?"
All right. Even I was impressed by Nora's knowledge of fine lingerie. But Lucy positively glowed. She had a live one on the line.
"You have impeccable taste," Lucy said. "We carry most of the line. What items are you looking for?"
"A bra and matching panty, I think." Nora turned to me for confirmation.
I nodded. "Yes, a bra and panties. Absolutely." Not in the real world. A bra and panty would set us back over six hundred dollars in this place.
Nora and Ridge were my best friends in the world. And I doubted I would even have sprung for a single panty in the cheapest line for Nora. And, of course, not for Ridge. I wasn't cheap. I just couldn't afford this place. And really, how much difference could there be between a thirty-dollar pair of panties, say, and these? Not a hundred and fifty some dollars' worth. If I were really buying a present for a friend from here, I was thinking a candle from the display along the far wall. I might actually be able to afford one. If I could pay in installments.
"I have a large selection of Coucher in stock. What size are we looking for?" Lucy asked eagerly.
"That's the problem," I said. "We're not exactly sure. Our friend loves La Nuit. We want to treat her to something special. But we don't know her size. What size panty do you wear isn't the kind of thing you can easily ask. Especially without giving yourself away."
I gave Lucy a rough description of Earleen's height and weight. "I have a picture of her, if that will help. We're really hoping you can help us guess?"
I pulled my phone from my purse and showed her Earleen's picture. My heart pounded with anticipation as Lucy studied it.
"Oh," Lucy said. "I recognize your friend. She came in here a few weeks ago with a gentleman. He was shopping for his wife and she was helping him. She was his wife's best friend, if I remember right." Lucy smiled. "It was so cute. He had no idea how to buy lingerie. He was one of those sweet guys who was embarrassed to even set foot in here. But it's a special anniversary coming up for them, and he wanted to surprise his wife with something he'd never done before."
I would have thought shopping for ladies' underwear, period, was something Artie had never done before. Who knew he had so much panache?
"I remember him so clearly," Lucy said. "He was so chatty."
Artie must have been nervous. It was the only time he talked much.
"He told me all about the surprise vacation cruise to the Bahamas he had planned," Lucy continued. "He'd been working out for months trying to get in shape and be more like the young guy she'd married. He'd even gone to a stylist and had his head shaved. He was shy about that. He wished there was a way to surprise her with a full head of hair.
"Your friend and him were going shopping for a new wardrobe for him, too. After they got the hot lingerie for the cruise." Lucy positively beamed. "They were just so adorable. I was relieved, really, that we carry a few plus-size lingerie brands. Many boutiques don't. Many designer brands don't go large enough to fit his wife. I would have hated to tell him that. Especially after he worked up the nerve to come in. He was so proud of his wife."
I looked at Nora. She looked at me with probably the same expression I had. Earleen was nowhere near a plus size. But Phyllis was.
"You wouldn't happen to be talking about our friend Artie, would you? He's a real sweetie. This sounds like something he'd do." I flipped to Artie's picture. "Is this the guy?"
Lucy leaned in for a closer look. "That's him! He made such an impression. I wouldn't forget him. Can I see that picture of your friend again?"
I handed her my phone.
Lucy studied it. "I'd say a size four panty. She's not buxom. I think we can fit her into one of our one-size-fits-all bras. They fit up to a C cup."
"Sounds great." My smile felt faked.
Lucy handed my phone back to me. "Wait here. I'll go see what I have in the back."
I slid my phone back into my purse. When Lucy was out of sight, I turned to Nora. "There's nothing in this store I can afford. I'm not waiting. Are you?"
"Let's dash."
As we headed out, I paused to look at the price on one of the small candles—sixty-five dollars!
Nora grabbed my arm. "What are you doing?"
"I thought I might be able to afford a candle. Guess I was wrong."
Fortunately, U Village has many nice eateries. We went to our favorite pasta deli. We ordered at the counter. After that encounter at La Nuit, I was hungry and needed a treat. I ordered one of the pasta company's delicious personal-size cheesecakes to go with my pasta salad and disappointment—chocolate, naturally. Nora and I found a seat in the corner near a window and settled in to discuss our findings.
"That was disappointing," I said. "Artie wasn't having an affair with Earleen. She was helping him plan a surprise anniversary trip."
Nora sighed and du
g into her pasta salad. "Yeah. Kind of tragic how fixing up for an anniversary surprise and asking your wife's friend for help can be construed as having an affair."
"Yeah. Funny what we can live with day to day. It's like how people only fix up their houses when they want to sell them."
"We're back to square one," Nora said.
"Not exactly." I dipped a piece of bread into the balsamic/olive oil mixture on my bread plate. "Just because Earleen wasn't actually having an affair with Artie doesn't mean Phyllis didn't believe they were. Her motive still holds."
"Which is terribly tragic if Phyllis is the real killer."
"Yeah, it's a bit like Oedipus Rex killing his father," I said. "If I remember right from high school lit, Earleen really hated that story." I tore off another piece of bread.
"What do we do next?" Nora asked.
"I need to talk to Jack or Rosemary," I said. "Find out if Earleen ever threatened to stop Jack's plans for the glamping park or threatened him in any other way. I just need to find out how to do it without giving my motive away."
Chapter 15
I got into Flourish early on Monday morning. Rosemary would be in at eleven. I had time to myself to get some work done. I was still trying to put the finishing touches on my next subscription box. As soon as I posted that it was available, it would sell out. Well, that used to be the case before I became a murder suspect.
I filled the boxes with things I loved and made with love. Each box always had an exclusive hand lettered object that I created just for it. Sometimes it was a mug or glass with one of my quotes embossed or printed on it. Sometimes it was a framed quote print. Or a T-shirt. Then I filled the rest of the box with quality items that matched the box's theme—candles, towels, bubble bath, purses, whatever. I was usually creative about it. But since Earleen's death, my muse had left the building. I needed to get items ordered soon.
I dug into the task. I was deep in my thoughts, soothed by the sounds and smells coming from Perk Me Up, when the bell over my door jingled. Dana Culp Bailey walked in.
Now, it must be said that although Earleen and I had never been friendly, Dana and I had always been passably pleasant to each other in high school and beyond. In life, there are circles of friends and friendship. At times in the past, Dana had orbited on the fringes of my outer circle. I sometimes thought that if not for Earleen, Dana and I might have been actual friends. At least way back then. She'd become pretty full of herself now.
"Jamie." Dana walked to where I was working at my drawing station. "How are you doing?" She sounded genuinely sympathetic. Which was surprising in itself.
"I'm coping," I said cautiously.
She pointed to the stool next to my drawing table. "I have something I'd like to discuss with you. May I?"
"Be my guest."
She sat and clasped her hands in her lap. "First, I have to say—I'm sorry about the accusations being leveled at you. I don't believe for a minute you…killed…Earleen." Dana took a moment to compose herself. "What happened to her was too…brutal. Too awful." She shuddered and closed her eyes like she was trying to shut out a nightmare. "It's so hard to blot out the mental image of it."
Tell me about it, I wanted to say.
"I've been thinking a lot about it. It's hard to think of much else. I think you've been set up. The Jamie I know would never shoot someone. Not without a lot more provocation than Earleen ever gave you. And you're not trigger-happy like some are saying, hinting Earleen startled you and you shot her accidentally."
She paused. "Phyllis is absolutely rabid about accusing you, and I'm sorry. I've been trying to rein her in. Unfortunately, without much success. It does none of us any good to make assumptions and start throwing accusations around." Dana stared into her lap. "She's distraught. You have to forgive her. Earleen was her best friend since childhood. Her death leaves a hole in Phyllis' life that she may never refill."
"Thank you." I was touched by Dana's sympathy and show of support. It came from such an unlikely corner. But Dana always had been the most reasonable of the trio of Phyllis, Earleen, and herself. "Your support means a lot."
Dana smiled sadly. "Well." She looked embarrassed and glanced around the shop. "Is Rosemary in yet?"
"No. Not until eleven."
"Good." Dana played with her wedding ring, twisting it around her finger. She used to twist her hair when she was nervous. Apparently she'd outgrown that and developed a new habit. "I wanted to…I don't know…warn you? On Rosemary's behalf. Jack is a nasty piece of work. They've been trying to keep it a secret, but I know he's back with Rosemary." She watched for my reaction.
I nodded. "I heard."
Her eyes went wide. "She told you?"
"Someone else saw them together."
Dana sighed. "Look, now that Earleen is gone, and we both want to find her killer, I thought you should know that Earleen didn't poach Jack away from Rosemary. Earleen told me that Jack and Rosemary had a huge fight and broke up. They apparently had been having a rough time for a while, but this particular fight—no idea what it was about—was the final straw. Jack threw in the towel."
Dana bit her lip. Her eyes were sad. "Earleen was his rebound woman. Unfortunately, I don't think she thought of it that way. No one wants to be the rebound person. It's rough on the ego. Whatever you may have thought about my cousin, she wanted to find the right guy and settle down. On the surface, Jack wasn't like, well"—Dana raised an eyebrow—"Ridge or Rut."
I smiled at her. "No, he isn't."
"But Earleen was getting older. She was getting, frankly, a bit desperate. Even though it was early days, she got her hopes up about Jack. And then, well, Jack got back together with Rosemary. Behind Earleen's back."
Dana's eyes and voice became hard. "It was rotten of Jack to treat Earleen like that. Totally horrible. He's a first-class—" She took a deep breath. "I won't say it. But you know what I'm thinking. He took advantage of Earleen. In retrospect, I think he was just using Earleen to make Rosemary jealous so he could get her back. But that's just me.
"Anyway, Earleen was hurt and furious. She and Jack had a knock-down-drag-out fight at the house the Saturday before"—Dana blinked back tears—"before she died. It was loud and vicious. They both said things they shouldn't. I'm sure Mrs. Volter next door heard. She was outside in her garden. Fortunately, my boys were out shooting."
At my house, I thought. At my blue jay.
"I didn't want them seeing it. I'm glad they didn't." Dana took a deep breath. "So you know, Earleen threatened to ruin Jack. She didn't mean it, I'm sure. Like I said, she was hurt and angry. But she promised to make sure he never got the permits to expand the glamping park. She yelled at him that she'd not only make sure he never got his bonus, she would see that he was fired and run out of town. And I think, if she'd been serious, she could have done it."
Dana winced. "Sorry. I don't like mentioning any of this. It's all so ugly. If I didn't feel so strongly that you should know…"
I reached out and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. "I can see it's painful for you. But I appreciate it.
"It's the right thing to do," she said. "You must think I'm terrible for listening in on their fight. But the only reason I stayed at the house through all the screaming was to protect Earleen. Jack was so angry. He threatened Earleen. Told her that she'd better not mess with him. That if she tried to ruin him, he'd stop her."
Dana shuddered. "He called her awful names. And took a step toward her, his face red, his fist clenched. I was terrified. Afraid he'd take a swing at her right then. I stepped between them and threatened to call the cops. Jack backed off, jumped in his truck, and burned rubber as he peeled away." Dana's voice became very soft. "I worry about Rosemary. A man with a temper like that is dangerous."
Dana kept twisting her ring. "I wanted you to hear the details from me before you heard a distorted version of their fight from someone else."
My heart pounded. I chewed on the inside of my mouth. "Have you told Ridge thi
s?"
"Yes," Dana said, looking me in the eye. "Of course. But since I'm pretty sure Ridge can't tell you, I wanted you to hear it from me."
We both sat silently contemplating for a minute.
"One more thing—the main purpose of my visit, really—I seem to have inherited Culp's Stationery." She sighed. "You know I never wanted that place. I turned it down when Grandpa offered it to me. He was so disappointed. But that's another story. Anyway, the business is worth nothing. I'll be liquidating it as soon as possible. I'm already looking at liquidation companies. I wanted to let you know, in case you wanted to pick up any of our stock for a steal. Despite Earleen's terrible taste, we still have some nice things. I'll let you have first shot at anything you want at liquidation prices."
"Thank you." It was beginning to sound like those were the only words I knew.
"You're welcome. You may have heard, too, that I'm putting the building up for sale. If you want to make an offer…"
"I appreciate that," I said quickly. "But it's a little large for what I need."
"Property's always a good investment. You could rent out what you don't use. If I were interested in being a landlord, or needed the money, I'd keep it and do the same myself, just lease it out. Hire a property management company to handle it for me. But Dwight is on the verge of making us very rich. So."
I nodded.
"Think about it," Dana said. "Well, I have to be going. I don't want to cross paths with Rosemary."
What Dana had just told me fired me up. Jack looked good for the murder. His motive was certainly strong. He had access to my gun and had bought one of the numbered quotes. He knew Earleen's routine. He could have walked right up to her and shot her. She might have been mad at him, but she wasn't afraid of him.
I was pumped up. I was going to solve this crime and clear my name. But what did I do about Rosemary?
Chapter 16
Monday
After Dana left, my mind once again whirred with possibilities. You know that feeling you get when you think too hard? Or are trying to solve a really difficult math problem? In other words, brain fatigue and total confusion? I felt like I was living in that state, and all the coffee in the world couldn't make it better.