by Holly Quinn
“I came in here to go over the details with the first group of people who were going to take a turn in the window,” Sammy said over her shoulder as she stepped over the threshold. “And Wanda was one of them.”
“Take a turn in the window?” The detective’s eyes narrowed in question.
Sammy turned to face him fully. “Oh. I guess I’m surprised you didn’t hear what we were doing during the Fire and Ice event. I was hosting a live-mannequin contest in the storefront display window. Which is why Wanda was inside the window when you arrived. Or had she already been moved to the ambulance when you got here? I’m sorry; that part is a bit of a blur.” Sammy breathed deep, reliving the horrible memory of Heidi, dressed in costume, administering CPR. “Must be all the stress that’s leaving me with a blank. Anyhow, let me think …” Sammy’s eyes pinballed within the glass room, trying to remember where everyone had been seated around the table. “Wanda was here.” Sammy laid her hand atop the back of the chair closest to the door. “Cheryl, Miles, Lynn, Mary, and someone else … Wait. I can check the clipboard!” She turned to retrieve her clipboard with the list of participants that she had left on the countertop that lined the craft room wall, but she couldn’t find it. What she did come across was Wanda’s travel mug filled with peppermint tea. “Oh nooo.” She blew out of her mouth and nodded her head grimly.
“What is it?” The detective moved closer and peered over her shoulder.
“Wanda left her peppermint tea. She asked me to guard it with my life, and now her life is over.” Without warning, Sammy burst into tears.
“I know, this has to be a tough shock. I’m so sorry.” Detective Nash laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. Sammy turned to him and allowed herself to fall into his protective, solid arms. It felt good to fold into him willingly, and she breathed in his manly scent mixed with a faint whiff of musky cologne.
“Oh … Gosh … Oh boy … I’m sorry to interrupt,” Deborah said as she entered the craft room, her face immediately flushing red, as if she had walked in on the two of them getting frisky on the craft room floor.
Sammy quickly jerked back from the detective. “No. No interruption,” she stuttered as she wiped her wet eyes with the back of her hand and awkwardly backed away from him.
“Oh Sammy! You’re crying!” Deborah reached to comfort her as well, and then the two embraced until Deborah’s eyes also began to mist.
The detective stood waiting for their tears to subside and then filled the glass room with the empty echo of his words. “I’m really sorry, ladies.” Sammy secretly wondered if the detective felt awkward about Deborah walking in on their embrace. Did he feel something too? Or was she overthinking? She was always overthinking.
Sammy stepped back from Deborah and encouraged her coworker with an outstretched hand. “Maybe you can help answer a few questions Liam might have.”
“Questions? Why are you asking questions? About what?”
“About Wanda.”
“Why are there questions about Wanda? Isn’t it pretty self-explanatory?” Deborah placed her manicured hands to her heart. “Didn’t I see you in here last night, Detective Nash? Why are you here now?” Deborah’s face furrowed in confusion. “What am I missing here?”
The detective cleared his throat. “Just standard protocol. I’m just clarifying a few things and making sure I’m being thorough. It’s common practice in these types of situations.”
“But I thought she had a heart attack.” Deborah dropped her hands from her heart and placed them on her delicate hips. Her eyes bounced between Sammy and the detective.
“We’re not sure yet. Especially now that her husband is missing, things are a bit weird,” Sammy interjected.
The detective sent a warning glare to Sammy to not overdisclose. “Her husband’s whereabouts have raised a few flags. I’m just being cautious.”
Sammy grimaced in response to the detective’s warning. It seemed, as per usual, she was already getting on his bad side by opening her mouth too soon. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? she berated herself inwardly. It seemed he was the only one around town she had to walk on eggshells with before she spoke.
“Whaaat?” Deborah shrieked. “Marty is missing?”
“We have yet to locate him to inform him of his wife’s death, I’d appreciate it if you keep this information under wraps.” He lifted an eyebrow and eyed Sammy as if to say, See what you’ve done now?
To defend herself, Sammy said, “I’m sorry to say, but if you’re looking to hold down gossip, it may be a bit late for that. A crowd was outside Liquid Joy this morning eyeing my store. I’m sure Wanda’s sudden passing is all people are talking about here in Heartsford.”
“That’s true,” Deborah agreed. “The whole town was out for the event last night. And let me say, it was kinda difficult not to notice the ambulance parked out front, and of course everyone wants to know why. My husband Danny said everyone was asking and wondering why Marty wasn’t around for Fire and Ice before Wanda … well … you know …”
The detective cleared his throat. “In any event, I’d appreciate it if this part of the conversation remains between us three.”
“Absolutely, Detective. You have my word,” Deborah answered, locking an imaginary key by her mouth.
Sammy remained silent. She figured it was her best option, based on Liam’s growing irritation.
“But where could he possibly be?” Deborah asked.
“That’s what we’d like to know. So, if you happen to come upon any further information or hear any rumblings, here’s my card.” The detective dug into his winter coat, plucked out a business card, and held it out with two fingers.
“Well, I know Wanda wasn’t feeling well during yoga class yesterday morning, and didn’t you say she still wasn’t feeling the best last night?” Deborah turned to Sammy.
“Yeah, I don’t think she was feeling well emotionally either. Cheryl was giving her a hard time about wanting to sit on a chair instead of striking a yoga pose,” Sammy agreed.
“Cheryl hates her … I mean, hated her. I’m sorry, I keep forgetting she’s gone …” Deborah placed her hand to her heart again. Her face looked stricken.
“Go on,” Sammy encouraged. “Can you explain to the detective what you mean?”
“You didn’t know? Haven’t you heard the talk around town? Cheryl wanted to sue the rec center because she slipped a disk in her back and wanted to blame Wanda for it. She expected Wanda to pay all her medical bills—and then some—from what I heard. Which, personally, I think is completely ridiculous.”
“Cheryl was a bit wound up last night,” Sammy agreed. “She and Craig also had words inside the store, but it ended rather abruptly when they saw me coming. I’m sure it was just a marital spat. However, to be honest, I didn’t hear what they were arguing about.”
Sammy watched as the detective took that information in like a sponge. He pointed to Wanda’s travel mug of peppermint tea. “I’ll take that with me.”
“Sure.” Sammy handed him the stainless thermos, which he took custody of with a gloved hand.
“Was there anything else Wanda might have left behind?”
Sammy held her tongue. Was it necessary to tell him about the lap quilt? She doubted it. The last thing she wanted was for a special heirloom to be locked up in police custody, never to be seen by the family again.
“I can’t believe everything that’s happened,” Deborah said, interrupting Sammy’s thoughts. “I can ask Danny again if he’s heard anything new or if he’s heard if anyone else might have seen Marty since Fire and Ice. Sometimes Danny runs into a few of Marty’s friends at a bar just outside town. What do you think, Detective?”
“Why don’t you give me Danny’s number, and I’ll call him myself.”
“Sure,” Deborah agreed as she reached for a nearby drawer to pluck out a yellow sticky note and a pen. She wrote her husband’s number on the pad and handed the slip of paper to the detective.
“If you l
adies think of anything else, be sure and call me,” Detective Nash said in an official manner, stepping over the threshold of the craft room.
Sammy wondered if Liam was suddenly acting formal because of Deborah catching their embrace. Or perhaps because of her own standoffish behavior the previous night? Or maybe he really didn’t have any interest in pursuing her. Either way, it seemed that fate continued to bring them together. Why couldn’t fate work a little less gruesomely and in her favor for once? She felt awful for the fleeting thought, because it was more important to get to the bottom of why Marty Wadsworth was missing and what had caused Wanda’s sudden passing. She felt a hot rush in her cheeks. It was not important whether there was or wasn’t a possibility of a romantic connection for her with Detective Liam Nash.
An unexpected rattling sound from the closed cabinet beneath the sink seized the attention of all three of them.
Deborah looked on with revulsion. “Please tell me we don’t have mice again,” she said as she moved across the threshold of the craft room to hide behind the safety of the detective, who responded with a smile and a protective arm block.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. As cold as it is, those little fellas need to find someplace to get warm. Although Bara is usually pretty good about catching them.” Sammy snapped open the cabinet door to release the creature, but instead of finding a mouse, her eyes fell upon Wanda’s oversized quilt bag. Judging by the clatter coming from it, a cell phone was on high vibration inside it. “Wanda must’ve tucked this in here last night after her visit to the restroom. I didn’t see her come back before she went inside the window, but I was a little preoccupied. I didn’t even think about where her bag would have gone until now,” Sammy easily admitted, hoping the detective believed she wasn’t purposely trying to hide anything in her cabinet. She instantly handed the bag to the detective, and he reached inside to fish out the phone. “Fifteen missed calls,” he said aloud as he scrolled through the phone. He then placed the cell phone on the table, because the call had ended and the phone’s vibrating had abruptly stopped. “And it looks like they’re all from her husband,” he added as he pointed a lean finger at the abandoned phone.
Sammy moved closer to the table, and the phone instantly came to life again, glaring the name Martin across the screen.
“Answer it and pretend you’re Wanda. I want to hear how he’s going to respond. Don’t give him any details; just tell him he needs to come home.” The detective pointed to the phone bouncing across the table.
“Me?” Sammy shook her head, confused.
“Yes. Hurry! I don’t want to tip him off; I’ll write down what I want you to say.” He plucked a small pad of paper and pen from his pocket. “But put it on speaker so we all can hear.”
Sammy picked up the phone, hit the speaker button, and said, “Hello?”
“Help! Help! You gotta help me!” a voice on the other end pleaded. There was a loud, raucous sound, and then the phone fell eerily silent.
Chapter Six
Sammy found it nearly impossible to drop the frantic call from Marty and the passing of Wanda Wadsworth from the forefront of her mind. The vision of Heidi administering CPR inside the display window of Community Craft also replayed in her head like a horror movie on repeat. Her thoughts swayed again to the panic in Marty’s voice bellowing from Wanda’s cell phone.
Her anxiety morphed to curiosity as she drove toward her sister’s house for dinner. What had happened to Marty? Was he hurt? Had he been in a car accident due to the inclement weather? Where was he? Did he know his wife was gone? She wished she could peek behind the curtain of the Wadsworths’ relationship and see what she was missing. Unfortunately, she really didn’t know a lot about Wanda’s personal life. Although Wanda had participated in classes and spent time at Community Craft, talk of her home life had been unusually private, and now Sammy wished she’d paid closer attention.
Sammy’s nephew, Tyler, was turning four years old, and a small family gathering had been planned. If not for her deep love of her nephew, Sammy would easily have canceled her dinner plans and instead tried to dig for more information about the whereabouts of Marty Wadsworth. The fact that Wanda had her husband’s name listed as Martin and not Marty as her phone contact was an interesting tidbit. Did that mean anything? Sammy thought it rather formal when everyone else in Heartsford seemed to refer to him as Marty. She smiled as she reflected on her own cell phone contacts. Liam Nash wasn’t listed by his name, either; he was simply Detective N in her phone. She wished he were Liam …
She hated that her mind diverted to longing for the aloof detective. It annoyed her that he was never far from her mind.
Was it really Wanda’s husband who had been calling? Or another person named Martin? It wasn’t as if Sammy recognized the voice. She’d even asked Deborah if she could distinguish Marty’s voice on the phone, but her coworker couldn’t tell. Everything had happened so fast. They had all been left stunned.
Detective Nash had promptly left her and Deborah in a cloud of confusion to return to the police station and have the call traced so he could hopefully locate Marty’s whereabouts. Had he ever found him? Sammy didn’t know. Before Liam’s swift exit from Community Craft, she had begged him to please keep them posted. It was highly doubtful that he would share anything now. The remainder of the day had lagged on as she and Deborah waited patiently by the phone for a call that never arrived. Hadn’t the police department been left with no choice other than to assume foul play? How could Wanda suddenly leave planet earth and her husband now apparently be in some sort of danger? The two incidents were obviously connected. Leading her to believe health-conscious Wanda had not died from some hidden disease.
After pulling up the driveway in front of the familiar two-story white colonial, Sammy jammed the car in park. Bara stood in the back seat, eager for his escape. If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought her dog was smiling. Bara, not normally welcome at her sister’s house due to Ellie’s neurotic cleaning habits, had been requested tonight. Ellie was making an exception, as Tyler had insisted that Bara be invited to his birthday party. How her sister would let that poor child grow up without a dog or a cuddly pet, she would never understand. A little extra work around the house—so what? For all the unconditional love a pet could bring to a family? Bara was more than worth it, in Sammy’s opinion. This was just one of the few things she and her sister couldn’t agree upon. She’d rallied on Tyler’s behalf on several occasions to adopt a rescue, but Ellie wouldn’t budge.
Sammy reached for the old faded towel beside her on the passenger seat so she could wipe Bara’s paws. She wanted to be sure he didn’t track snow inside. That was the least she could do to be considerate of her sister’s feelings, despite the fact that they didn’t agree that Tyler should have a dog of his own to love.
Bara bounded up the driveway just as the garage door was lifting with a large groan. Sammy quickly caught up with him and looped her finger around his collar to hold him back from leaping inside the garage. As soon as the door rose completely, she encouraged him to sit to wipe his paws. Before she had a chance to finish, Ellie swung the interior wooden door to her house open wide, and Bara leapt from her reach before she could wipe all four paws completely clean.
“Oh, it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” Ellie said, tossing a dish towel over her shoulder as Bara shoved past her through the door with puppy-like excitement.
“Hey, I tried,” Sammy said with a huff, sending her overlong bangs blowing from her forehead, reminding her again that she’d forgotten to call Lizzy and make a hair appointment.
“I know you did. But if Tyler had to wait one more second for his birthday party to begin, I don’t think I could stand it. He’s been hyper all afternoon waiting, and quite literally I’m the one now counting the minutes.” Ellie smiled as she jammed a thumb toward her chest.
“Oh shoot. I forgot Tyler’s birthday present in the trunk.” Sammy turned in the direction of her car to retrieve
the gift just as her nephew and Bara shoved past Ellie back inside the garage.
“Happy birthday, my sweet little Tyler!” Sammy said as she ruffled the boy’s curly golden head and drew him in for a half hug. She simultaneously reached for Bara’s collar and led him back in the direction of the house. “How about you bring puppy back inside so I can go get your present?”
Tyler jumped up and down excitedly and squealed, “Present, present, present!” as his hands clapped together like clanging cymbals. Pure delight raced across the little boy’s face.
“Slow down there, Ty,” Ellie said in a firm voice. “Bring the dog back inside and go settle him down. Otherwise your party will never get started, and I don’t think you want that,” she warned.
Tyler quickly heeded his mother’s warning and darted back into the house, Bara galloping in close pursuit. Ellie closed the door to hold off a recurrence and followed her sister out into the garage in her moccasin slippers. “Boy, its freezing out here,” Ellie said, shivering and running her hands up and down her arms.
“I hear you. The raw cold has definitely returned. Go ahead back inside where it’s warm; I’ll be right behind you,” Sammy said over her shoulder as she moved toward her car.
She popped the trunk with her fob and carefully maneuvered patches of the icy pavement to retrieve Tyler’s birthday present. The frigid day had turned everyone’s driveway into a sheet of ice. She hoped she wouldn’t fall and land flat on her ass.
“I can’t. I have to talk to you.”
Sammy eased back up the driveway, careful not to slip, a large wrapped box held tightly under her right arm. “What is it?”
“Wanda’s husband is missing,” Ellie said, wringing her hands and blowing into them for warmth.
“Yeah. I know. How’d you find out? Deborah and I were sworn to secrecy … don’t tell Nash you heard it from me.” Sammy didn’t mention Heidi’s call in the morning, as she didn’t want to get in the middle of the two of them. “Who’s the leak?”