by Holly Quinn
But while smoothing the quilt layers together to prepare it for stitching, she dug her fingers around inside and fished out a small piece of paper lodged beneath the batting. It read: The blocks pieced on this quilt release me of guilt.
Chapter Twelve
Sammy’s mouth hung agape as she reread, for the third time, the perplexing rhyme clutched in her hands: The blocks pieced on this quilt release me of guilt.
What in the world? It was as if Wanda were reaching out from the grave, testing Sammy’s curious nature.
Sammy placed the note back on the table with trembling fingers, as if she could will it away. Now she was utterly incapable of piecing the ripped seam of the quilt back together. Her mind had run amuck. She lifted herself from the chair, abandoning the quilt, needle and thread atop the craft table, and began to pace within the confines of the craft room, trying to piece together this new revelation and make sense of it.
Why would Wanda have stitched this note within the batting of her quilt? Who had she intended to see it? What guilt had she been carrying? And what did the quilt blocks have to do with releasing her of guilt?
The bell on the front door alerted Sammy that a customer had entered Community Craft. She swiftly retrieved the rhyme off the table, stuffed the note deep into the front pocket of her faded blue jeans, and then stepped out of the craft room. She was surprised to see Detective Nash navigating the front door with a pizza box in his hand, which she instantly recognized as being from the Corner Grill. The box emitted a tantalizing scent, and her stomach leapt in a hungry response to the smell.
“Is that for me?” Sammy placed a hand to her heart as she approached him. The man either knew how much she loved pizza from the familiar restaurant, or he was completely mean hearted and was walking through her store to tease her.
“For us,” Liam said as he looked around the store, noting it was empty of customers. “Looks like I picked the perfect time. No? Isn’t it almost closing time around here? I figured you probably hadn’t had a chance to eat yet, or did you beat me to it?”
“Not for another hour, although I’ll admit I was contemplating closing early. And now I think you’ve helped finalize that decision.” Sammy’s eyes rose to the clock on the wall above the cash register and then back to the detective. “To what do I owe this surprise?” she asked as she tailed him into her office behind the register counter.
“Don’t you remember I mentioned I needed to speak privately with you when we connected at the crime scene? I’ve learned from the past that you can get a little hangry if you haven’t had time to eat. Am I right?” he said over his shoulder with a teasing voice.
Of course he was right. Unfortunately, under the current circumstances, he was more than right. She was starving, but how did he know that? He turned to her as soon as they were both within the confines of her office. “Tim?” She eyed him for confirmation.
“Yep, he was on the phone with Heidi and mentioned you three hadn’t stopped for a late lunch like you had originally planned.”
“Ah.”
The way the detective’s lips formed a lopsided smile solidified Sammy’s suspicion that he had something on his agenda. The question was … what? Had Heidi confided in her boyfriend what they’d witnessed at Jackson’s?
Sammy jutted a thumb behind her. “Excuse me for just a second; I’m going to go lock up. I haven’t had anyone here in the last twenty minutes, and as cold as it is outside, I’d be shocked if someone stopped in at this point. I’d rather we not be interrupted if you have something you need to discuss with me in private. Besides, if anyone so much as sees you in here tonight, they’re going to assume you’re questioning me about Wanda. I’m guessing that’s what you are here for. Am I right?”
Instead of answering her question, the detective placed the pizza box on her desk, flipped it open, and took a slice in his hand. He instantly took a bite, which made her mouth water.
Sammy left the detective alone in the office and proceeded to lock the front and back entrances. She wondered why he had shown up without advance notice and with a pizza bribe. He must want something, or he was digging for more intel. Sammy jammed the rhyme deeper into her jeans pocket. She wasn’t ready to disclose Wanda’s hidden note. Not just yet. She wanted to probe the detective first and see how much information she could tap from him. Maybe she could learn something that might help Jackson figure out who was extorting money from him. If only she could keep her mouth shut about the ransom. Had Heidi already spilled to Tim the details of their visit to Jackson’s farm? Did Liam already know, and had he now come to test her? She thought of this as she maneuvered through the merchandise racks back to the office. When she arrived, the detective was on his second slice.
“Are you sure that’s for me to share too?” she teased.
“Hey, I haven’t had time to stop and eat today either,” he said between bites. “Haven’t had a break all day.”
“Here, why don’t you go ahead and take a load off,” Sammy suggested as she hauled a metal chair closer to her desk for him to take a seat. He immediately took the offer and sat down, all while continuing to consume the pizza slice still folded in his hand.
Sammy mirrored him by taking a seat behind her desk, reaching for the box, and taking a slice of pizza of her own. “Oooh, pepperoni my favorite,” she said, before she sank her teeth deep into the slice.
“I know, I remember.” He smiled, winked, and then took another bite.
“What brings you here with a food bribe?” She eyed him carefully, gauging his reaction.
“Bribe? No bribe. Just a meal between friends. We haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot again lately. Or am I missing something?”
Sammy thought for a moment. Something she rarely did before speaking her mind, but she was really trying. She weighed her words carefully and then said, “We missed you around the holidays. Seems you weren’t around very much and didn’t take part in the local festivities. I thought maybe I did or said something that hurt your feelings, to be honest. And the way you were acting, out by Marty’s abandoned car. Forgive me, but I just assumed—”
The detective put up a hand of defense. “When it comes to work, you know I don’t like anyone—I mean anyone, including you, Miss Kane—getting in the way of my investigations. But before we get into all of that, let me explain something.” Liam took a breath and let it out slowly, as if debating with himself what to share with her. Then he surprised her by saying, “I’m not very fond of Christmas. It’s not my favorite holiday.”
Sammy cocked her head in question. “I’m not sure what you mean? Not very fond of Christmas?”
“Brenda passed away close to Christmastime, and every time I see a lighted tree, a wreath, or all the festive decorations … well, I tend to avoid it. All I see in my head are IV drips and machines with crappy decorations pathetically lighting up her hospital room, as if that could make it cheery. What a joke.”
Sammy was surprised at his honesty. She nibbled on her pizza slice and didn’t respond. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing, so instead she said nothing.
Finally, after a long pause between them, he said, “Well now. I guess I shouldn’t have shared that much.” He tossed the uneaten crust into the box and picked up another slice, seemingly to keep his mouth busy and avoid further conversation.
“No, I’m really glad you did … share that.” Sammy set her pizza crust down and rubbed her hand along the desk absently. “I’m sad for you, though. Brenda’s been gone a few years now, and it’s sad that you can’t reflect on the good memories you shared during the holidays with her instead of concentrating on the way she died and when. Which is what you seem to focus on now that she’s gone … at least when you’re talking to me about her.”
The detective’s face lit in surprise, as if he was hearing something profound for the first time. “You know what? I never really thought about it that way.”
“I’m sorry to be so blunt.” She reached out a hand to sof
ten the blow.
“No. I actually think I needed blunt.” He set his slice of pizza in the box and wiped his hands together to rid them of the crumbs.
“I’m sorry, did you want something to drink?” Sammy rose from the desk chair and moved over to the small refrigerator that hummed in the corner of the room.
The detective cleared his throat. “Sure, that’d be great.”
She reached in and pulled out two bottles of water. “Sorry, this is all I can offer at the moment,” she said as she handed him one.
He took a long drink, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, “Thank you.”
“Oh, you’re welcome. I should’ve fetched us drinks right away, but my stomach led the parade.” She laughed as she reached into the box for a second slice.
“No. I’m not thanking you for the water, although I appreciate it. What I’m trying to say …” The detective put the water bottle on the corner of her desk and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When you watch someone die … I mean, in the manner that Brenda died … Watching someone you love waste away with cancer … it does something to you.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “The suffering … and no way for me to fix it. The helplessness. Look, I’m a fixer. I fix things. Brenda’s illness … it couldn’t be fixed.” He looked at his hands as if he were helpless.
“I can’t even imagine. And I’m sorry … it was not my intention to hurt you with my words.”
“Wait, let me finish.” He put up a hand, and his eyes rose to meet hers. “Thank you, Samantha. For reminding me to look at the good and not the bad. Which is exactly where my focus has remained all these years. You know, my work hasn’t left me absent of scars. It’s left me jaded—the way I look at things. Look,” he continued, “I see the worst in people most of the time. People do heinous things to each other—unimaginable things. It’s hard sometimes to not become cynical. I think I’ve let my professional life carry over into my personal life, which is a gross mistake on my part. I’m going to try and rethink the way I’ve been seeing the world,” he concluded, then picked up his pizza slice and continued until he hit crust, which he tossed back into the box.
Sammy didn’t know how to react. It was rare for the detective to show vulnerability, but when he did, her heart swelled.
“You know, I have to admit something to you.” Sammy cleared her throat. “After you and I uncovered what happened to Kate”—she lifted her eyes to the ceiling and looked up, as if she could see a vison of her best friend who’d long passed—“the amazing friend who started all of this and created strong community bonds here in this place …” Her eyes dropped and landed on him. “It was hard for me. Hard not to focus on what I’d learned, what we’d uncovered.” Sammy wagged a finger between them. “It stayed with me. I’ll admit, I focused on it for many weeks, and the anger burned inside me. But one day, when I was standing out on the shop floor here at Community Craft and a stream of light came through the front window and rested on me”—Sammy paused and smiled—“I felt her presence like I hadn’t in a long time. I could almost hear her laughter, and it suddenly dawned on me. The only one that was hurting was me. And Kate wouldn’t want that. Not for a second. What I’m trying to say, Liam, is … I don’t think Brenda would want it for you either. She’d want you to remember everything good, everything pure between you two. She wouldn’t want you to miss out on the joy that life provides. That’s all I’m going to say on that matter. I think I’ve already said too much.” Sammy lifted her pizza to her mouth and took a big bite to stop herself from saying anything further.
The detective’s eyes softened. “I’ll try,” he said in a rough voice. “I’m definitely going to try.”
Sammy felt he had received the message, but she also felt him growing uncomfortable in the growing silence between them, so she said, “Are you going to eat those crusts?”
“Why? You want ’em? Nope, they’re all yours.” He smiled.
Sammy rose from her chair and called out to her dog. Within minutes Bara filled the room with his furry frame, and Sammy sat back in the chair, leaned over, and handed a crust to her dog, which he took willingly. Then he sank down with it held between his paws.
“Looks like he loves the Corner Grill too,” Liam said as he leaned over and gave Bara a pat on the head.
“He sure does. I try not to give him too much, but occasionally I let him have it. Why don’t you tell me the real reason you brought me my favorite pie? You want me to open up about something, don’t you? My turn, is it?” She hoped her voice sounded teasing, but she seriously wondered about his underlying agenda after the way he had treated her on the side of the road by Marty’s abandoned car. He always treated her differently in private, which was interesting for her to ponder. She’d think more about that later.
The detective cleared his voice. “I’m not going to share anything I think you don’t already know. Wanda’s death was due to poisoning, and now Marty is missing. Let’s just say things are looking very suspicious. So, I’ve been doing some digging.”
Sammy’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think Marty took off of his own accord? From the sound of your voice, I get the impression you think he was the one who poisoned his wife. Am I right? Don’t you always look at those closest to the victim first? Hey, I’m only going on what you’ve taught me from our previous experiences.” She winked.
“I’m not ruling anything out at this point. I’m now in a full-on investigation, which leads me to why I’m here.”
Sammy wiped her hands on her lap, then clasped her hands and held them across her full stomach. She leaned back in the chair, attempting to act casual, but she wondered if he already knew the secret she was keeping and was about to apply pressure like a tight squeeze. “Go on.”
Instead he surprised her. “I’m going to need you to stand down. Something I’m about to tell you is going to upset you, and I need your cooperation to let me do my job. Do you think I can trust you to do that?”
“I’m not sure I’m following.”
“It’s about your brother-in-law.”
Chapter Thirteen
“My brother-in-law? You mean Randy?” Sammy sat upright in her chair, her back turned as stiff as a two-by-four pine board. “What about him?” She hoped the detective and Jackson didn’t have similar thoughts regarding Randy’s so-called potential involvement.
Detective Nash reached across the desk and closed the pizza box to keep Bara’s sniffing nose from digging into what was left—which wasn’t much. “I’m sure you’re very well aware that Randy is the listing agent on the Wadsworths’ property, and as I’ve dug deeper into this investigation, some things have come to light.”
“What things?” Sammy placed her hands flat on her desk to steady herself.
Detective Nash put up a defensive hand. “I’m not going to divulge that kind of information right now. But your brother-in-law will be brought in for questioning tomorrow, and I need your full cooperation. I need you to assure me that you’ll stay out of this.” His eyes turned from warm chocolate to piercing. “I know how much influence you have over the people of this town, and your reaction will either hinder or help my investigation. I’m hoping for the latter, despite the fact that he’s your relative. I’m respecting you enough to share this information with you. I didn’t have to, but I chose to.” He held a finger upright to drive home the point.
Sammy’s heart began to thunder in her chest. “Wait a second. A minute ago, you thought Marty disappeared of his own accord.”
“No. I didn’t say that.” He put up a hand to stop her.
“But you implied it.”
“No. You’re reading into things. I clearly said I’m not ruling anything out at this point.” The detective lifted himself from the chair, making a scraping sound on the floor, which caused Bara to shift and saunter closer to the door.
“Wait. Where are you going? Please sit back down,” Sammy pleaded as she fluttered a hand to encourage him to stay.
“I’m not
staying, Samantha. I can’t divulge any information to you at this point. I’m asking you to stand down and trust me to do my work. And to do that, you’re going to have to let things unfold as they should and not overinvolve yourself this time.” He reached for his coat and tucked it over his arm. “Please. I need you to cooperate. Can I count on you to do that?”
His response was so vague, it drove her to rise from her own seat. “Wait. Please, I’m begging you. Tell me what you’ve got on Randy.”
The detective gave Bara a pet on the head and then moved over the threshold. He briefly turned for a moment to face her and rested his hand casually on the doorjamb. “Can you get rid of the pizza box for me?” He bobbed his head toward the desk, where the mostly empty box sat.
“Sure. I appreciate you bringing supper to share.” Although the pizza was beginning to churn in her stomach due to the recent news. “But are you sure you can’t stay? Can we talk this through?”
Sammy’s hands turned clammy from the conflict flip-flopping in her mind. Should I tell him about the ransom note? Maybe this would change everything in his investigation. Her heart began to beat faster. Will Jackson understand if I spill the beans? Will Marty survive if I tell Liam what’s really going on? Will it change anything regarding Randy? While she debated which was the right decision to make, the detective made it for her.
“Good night, Samantha,” he said, and turned out the office door. After his frame disappeared from view, she steadied herself on two wobbly legs. Yet her feet felt like they were buried in concrete.
After a moment, she moved to follow him. “Wait!”
But it was too late. The detective had already slipped out the back exit.
Sammy stared at the closed glass door and held a hand to her rapidly beating heart. Part of her wanted to chase after him into the parking lot. The other part won out. She needed to think. The first thing that sprang to her mind was to call an emergency S.H.E. meeting. There was no way she was going to allow this investigation to get out of hand and drag Randy smack-dab in the middle of it. She needed to do something fast to stop this investigation from snowballing, but she didn’t want to make a rush decision on her own. She needed the team.