Shards of Murder

by Cheryl Hollon

  He slipped his notebook into his inside suit pocket. “Your formal statement will be ready to sign in a few days. I’ll call when it’s ready to sign.”

  He shook his head slightly and gave her a weary half smile. “Do us both a tremendous favor—get yourself off the list of possible suspects as quickly as you can.”

  Chapter 7

  Monday Morning

  Stunned by Detective Parker’s declaration that she was a suspect, Savannah watched him leave and then turned around toward the classroom. She didn’t think she could talk coherently, let alone teach at the moment, so she poked her head into the classroom and signaled for Amanda to carry on and then ducked into the custom workshop that opened off of the display and retail room.

  It was quiet and still. She made her way over to her late father’s workbench and sat. She flipped the light switch over the bench and looked over his tools. She skimmed her fingers over the fragments of cathedral glass that he had been working on at the time of his death.

  Although a few months had gone by since her father’s death, she still wasn’t ready to clear off his workstation. There was plenty of unused work surface in the room to work on the shop’s commissioned pieces. She wouldn’t clear off his bench yet. Not until she was ready.

  What would he think of this situation?

  Taking in a deep breath and exhaling long, Savannah struggled to predict his advice. He wouldn’t want her to risk her safety, but he also wouldn’t want her to waste her skills in a critical situation. He also hadn’t been particularly trusting of the police, in life or in death.

  What would he want me to do?

  He would want her to investigate Megan’s murder to clear herself and preserve the reputation of Webb’s Glass Shop.

  She had carried out an investigation before to find the murderer of her father and his master craftsman. She could do it again. Especially if she convinced her friends to help her one more time. With an impending murder charge hanging over her head, it wouldn’t take much to reassemble the posse to gather the kind of insider information about the local glass art scene that the police department wouldn’t know to ask about.

  “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered.

  Flipping off the workbench light, she turned to the door and found her apprentice Jacob Underwood standing beside her with his beagle service dog, Suzy, in his arms.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “Sorry, Jacob. I was mostly talking to myself.” She reached out with both hands and nuzzled Suzy’s long floppy ears. “Hello, little sweetie.” Looking at Jacob’s lowered head, she followed his gaze to Suzy’s paws. “Oh my goodness, what perfect little booties. Does she like wearing them?”

  “Not very much.”

  “Well, it means she can stay with you in the shop no matter where you go. We don’t have to be worried about broken glass on the floor.”

  “She’s a good little dog.” Jacob spoke with his chin resting on Suzy’s head. “I think she tolerates them only because she understands that they mean she can stay with me.”

  “This is much better than making her stay in my office at the back. This is a good thing for us all. Did you come up with the idea?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, my mom did.”

  Savannah smiled. “Well, then please thank your mother for the terrific solution.”

  “Yes, Miss Savannah.”

  And now you can be calm in here while you work instead of checking on Suzy in her basket back in my office every five seconds.

  She watched Jacob set Suzy on the floor.

  Suzy stood on four stiff legs and looked up at Jacob, tilting her head as if to question his judgment for making her wear these foolish things. As soon as Jacob started for his workstation at the far end of the custom workshop, Suzy gave a vigorous shake and carefully goose-stepped her way to his chair, where she sat and looked up at him in her “on-watch” pose.

  Savannah poked her head into the classroom to ensure that Amanda was doing fine. Then she pulled out her cell and dialed Keith.

  He answered, “Hi, Savannah, what’s up?”

  “Oh, Keith, something horrible has happened to Megan. I found her body drifting in Tampa Bay this morning. She’d been hit in the head by her centerpiece.” She took a calming breath to ward off the sobbing she felt building in her chest. “I’m so sorry. She was apparently killed Saturday night.”

  “I don’t understand. This is terrible. Who did it?”

  “The police don’t know, and right now, they’re inclined to think that I did it.”

  “What? That’s ridiculous. Has anyone notified her parents?”

  “I don’t know. I imagine they’ve contacted the Seattle Police Department by now and have sent someone to do that.”

  “I’ll call Leon and Vincent to let them know. As far as I know, Leon was her most recent boyfriend. I’m not sure if they were still together. She tended to jettison her partners right before a major exhibit. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I don’t know—this has knocked me sideways.” She took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Seriously, Savannah. If I can do anything—anything—you must call,” said Keith.

  “Thanks, I’ll let you know.”

  Savannah made her way back to the classroom and stood to the side until Amanda finished her demonstration of glass cutting.

  “Amanda, that was very well presented. I appreciate your willingness to take over. Class, I apologize for the disruption, but you are always in good hands with Amanda.”

  Amanda flushed from the top of her blouse to the broad smile plastered on her face.

  “Now, let’s move on to the next skill.”

  For a terrifying moment, Savannah’s mind went blank. She couldn’t remember the next teaching point.

  If Detective Parker is giving me a warning, I’m in deep trouble.

  She walked over to the instructor’s workstation at the front of the room and looked down at her teaching plan for the day. Thank goodness for a written plan. She sighed softly and her shoulders relaxed.

  “Next, we’re going to cover some important numbers that get a little technical, but, I promise, not too scary. The trick here is that you want your pieces to fuse together safely in the kiln. If the glass is incompatible, the pieces will heat up and cool at different rates. Depending on the design of your work, you risk cracking or even shattering the piece when it cools. Amanda has an example of a beautiful platter that basically exploded during the cooling cycle.”

  In a large clear plastic storage bin were the pieces of an intricate platter. As she handed the bin to Miss Carter, Amanda said, “It’s absolutely heartbreaking. There were six different pieces of art glass in the platter.”

  “What you’re looking at”—Savannah paused to make sure each student was looking at her—“was my first attempt at a complicated fusing. I had breezed through the beginner pieces and gotten cocky.” She waved a hand at the bin. “This is the result of my overconfidence.”

  The bin slowly traveled around the classroom, causing a few frowns and murmurs of sympathy. Savannah reached beneath the podium and drew out a presentation box. She removed a beautiful platter. “This is what my second attempt looks like.”

  The class expressed a collective “awwww” as she held the beautiful platter up for them to admire.

  While the finished piece made the rounds, Savannah went on, “I painfully learned the value of checking the type of glass I was fusing after having to collect the shards of my first platter out of the kiln. As a result of the accident, I had to meticulously examine each kiln surface to ensure that none of the shattered fragments remained behind to cause further contamination with new works.”

  Amanda collected both the plastic bin and the finished platter from the Rosenberg twins. Faith said, “I’ll bet your dad was angry.”

  “Oddly, no, he wasn’t angry. He was frustratingly patient. His main concern centered on the kiln. It was the only kiln we had at the time, so producti
on ground to a halt right in the middle of a commissioned project of plates for a new restaurant. I spent two days taking it apart, cleaning it, and reassembling it under his eagle eye. That part was not pleasant. Our profits took a big hit that week.”

  Miss Carter raised her hand halfway in a small wave. “How do we avoid this?”

  “As I said earlier, simple care and attention. The science of glass fusing is built around a number called the Coefficient of Expansion. It’s commonly referred to and pronounced as the C-O-E. The value is usually expressed as a whole number. The glass on your tables comes from the Bullseye Company and they specialize in a COE of 90, so artists”—she looked pointedly around the room—“and that includes each of you . . .”

  She waited for the compliment to reach their eyes and was pleased to see a few smiles.

  “. . . artists simply refer to it as COE90 glass. Spectrum, another common glass manufacturer, has a COE of 96, while Corning’s Pyrex glassware has a 32 COE. Standard window glass, referred to as ‘float’ glass by the glassmaking community, has a COE that is usually around 84 to 87, while Moretti glass, commonly used for lampworking, has a 104 COE.”

  “Yikes!” said Dale. “That’s a lot to remember. How do I know what I have?”

  “Good question.” Savannah picked up a small piece of glass. She pointed to a label in the corner. “This is what comes on the sheet when I receive it from the manufacturer. It clearly indicates that the COE of this sheet is 96. As I cut each sheet for sale or for use in a project, I write its manufacturer’s stock number and the COE on both of the cut pieces.”

  “You’ve done that for our glass.” Dale held up one of his glass pieces.

  “Yes, and it’s something you should make a habit of doing as soon as you cut your glass for a project.”

  Up came Miss Carter’s hand. “But what about the small pieces? That seems terribly tedious.”

  “Good point. For my small pieces, say about three inches square or less, I put them in a plastic bin clearly labeled COE96. For our creation today, and for the rest of the week, we’ll be working in COE96. That way, you have no chance to make a mistake.”

  “What about getting more glass after class is over?”

  “Out in the display and retail room, the racks of glass are separated into two large areas. On the right side of the door is stained glass and on the left side is glass for fusing. The fused glass is separated into the two most popular ones: COE90 and COE96. There are large signs over the racks. If you want to get more glass for this week’s workshop, make sure you select it from the COE96 rack.”

  Looking up from his notebook, Dale said, “Thanks, that helps a lot. I don’t want to spend two days cleaning up the kiln.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Savannah held up a small oblong platter with a chevron design. “This will be our project for today. You have enough glass on your workstations to create this and, of course, you’ll want to save your scraps. There are about a dozen similarly sized molds right up here for you to choose from. Let’s get creative.”

  A scraping of chairs signaled the release of the students.

  “I want the smallest one. I need a little soap dish for my bathroom sink,” Rachel said as she snatched a small curved mold. “Faith, there’s another one just like it.”

  “I don’t want to make what you’re making. I’m going to make a bowl.” Faith picked up a mold and they made their way to the back row.

  “Do you want to make something for our folks?” Janice looked at Gary. “The condo doesn’t have many serving dishes.”

  “Great idea. How about these two platters?” Gary pointed to two long narrow molds. “If we use different patterns but out of the same colors, they’ll look cool.”

  Miss Carter walked up to Savannah. “Do I have to use a mold? I would like to try something a little more free-form.”

  “Of course you can. Use the surface of your work area as your base. First, you need to lay down a sheet of kiln paper, and then you build your design. After you glue it together, we’ll transfer it to the kiln and it will get fired along with everyone else’s piece,” said Savannah.

  Amanda walked up to Dale, who was madly scribbling away in his notebook. She tapped him on the shoulder. “Are you going to select a mold? I can help you if you need some ideas.”

  He looked up into Amanda’s eyes. “Uh, sure, y-yes, sure, I’d l-l-like some help.”

  Winking at Savannah, Amanda led Dale to the collection of molds. Each mold had a finished piece placed on top to use as inspiration. Wrenching his eyes from Amanda, he scanned the molds and said, “Which one is your favorite?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. This one.” She lifted a circular bowl with a simple two-color star design. “It reminds me of my gran. She was always admiring the stars and showing me the constellations in the night sky.”

  “Then, that’s my choice.” Dale picked up the mold and returned to his workstation.

  Savannah nodded to the group. “Now that everyone has a mold, it’s time to prepare your glass. Start by cutting your glass to fit the mold. Amanda and I will answer any questions you might have. Just call us. We’ll be in the display and retail room.” She motioned for Amanda to follow her out of the classroom.

  “What is it?” Amanda whispered loudly. “You’ve been acting strange all morning.”

  “Not really surprising when you consider that Rooney and I found Megan’s body on our run this morning.”

  “I know. I can’t stop thinking about it either.” Amanda sucked in a quick breath. “Not really the best way to start the day.”

  “It’s even worse. Detective Parker hinted that I was their prime suspect.” Savannah wandered over to the sales PC and slumped down on the stool behind the counter.

  “What? That’s ridiculous!”

  “He really shouldn’t have told me. But I think he did only because of my prior work on Dad’s case. He told me to get it in gear and clear myself before he had to take action.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “First, I’m going to ask Keith to help. He knew her very well as her mentor and might have some ideas about why she has been killed. He has to know something that will give us some leads.”

  “Then what?”

  “I want to investigate Megan’s death. I also want you and Edward to help.”

  Amanda clapped her hands in a flutter and whistled. “So, you’re getting the band back together?”

  Savannah rolled her eyes. “You are determined to find the bright side of anything, aren’t you?”

  “Yep, it’s my thing. How soon do you want to start?”

  “Right away. Jacob is already here. He’s so off-the-charts creative. His perspective is an advantage in any problem-solving discussion.” She pressed her lips thin. “Would you please call Edward while I finish the class?” Savannah stood, put her hands in the small of her back, and stretched her stiff neck from side to side.

  As if he had heard the conversation, Jacob stood in the office doorway.

  “I can be a big help.” Jacob moved beside Savannah with Suzy in his arms. “I was able to solve some big clues last time. You know I’m good with patterns and puzzles. Patterns that you didn’t see.”

  Savannah looked at Amanda. “That’s right, we can use that.”

  Jacob stood taller. “I could analyze all the data right here in the shop. That wouldn’t interfere with my routine or alarm my mother.”

  “He’s got a point,” Amanda said. “Here in the shop would be fine.”

  “Okay, but you simply must get permission to do this from your mother. Our last case was somewhat unplanned. We’re doing this one deliberately. If she’s fine, I’m fine. Agreed?”

  Jacob nodded. “Mom will agree.”

  “Let’s meet here after class, say at four this afternoon. We’ll come up with a plan and reassemble our posse.”

  “I don’t understand,” Amanda said. “How could Detective Parker possibly think you could murder Megan? He
knows you.”

  “Yes, and I don’t think he believes that I killed her. But I knew her, I discovered the body, and then they found my business card in her pocket with my personal cell number on the back.”

  “Why did you give her your card?” Amanda asked.

  Savannah paused and stared at the floor. “I wanted to find out what my life would have been like if I had continued with my studies in Seattle. She practically stepped right into my old life with my scholarship, my instructors, and even my dreams. I wanted to know her better.”

  Amanda nodded. “Unfortunately, your curiosity now has you tied to her murder.”

  Chapter 8

  Monday Afternoon

  Sitting around in various chairs in the small back office of Webb’s Glass Shop, Amanda, Jacob, Edward, and Savannah nibbled on the batch of cinnamon scones that Edward had brought from his pub. Memories of their previous investigation flooded Savannah. It had been a struggle to connect with her dad’s community as the new owner of Webb’s Glass Shop, but afterward, she’d appreciated their unstinted support.

  “What’s this about?” Edward spoke between bites of his scone. “More promotional ideas? Queen’s Head is frantic! We’re not only getting ready for the Grand Central Chili Cook-off but we’re extending our breakfast offering to weekdays. Did you know that Nicole is not only a great bartender, but used to be a short-order cook?”

  “No, she never mentioned it. She’s going to tackle that?”

  “Yes, indeed, on Friday after she returns from visiting her sister in Switzerland. She and her partner are saving for a house. The extra dosh will help with the down payment. Are you planning a way to add early morning classes?”

  “Nope, not yet. I’m busy training Rooney in the mornings.”

  “Just tell them, for Pete’s sake,” insisted Amanda. She puffed out her cheeks. “It’s a murder.”

  Jacob piped up, “I’m going to help with data analysis.”