A Crafter Quilts a Crime

by Holly Quinn

  Sammy nudged him playfully. “Seriously? You’re going to let me do all the dirty work here?”

  She placed the binoculars up to her eyes and peered out of them. She turned to view the side of the farmhouse to see if she could catch where Tim would be hiding, but she couldn’t locate him. Apparently, he was doing a very good job of it. She dropped the binoculars to her lap momentarily and gazed over at the detective, who looked relaxed in the seat next to her. It felt as if eons of nothing but quiet ensued before they spoke again.

  “Are you awake?” she whispered.

  “Uh-huh. Why, you got something?” he said, keeping his eyes shut.

  “Yeah.”

  He scrambled to attention, wiped his eyes with the back of his hands, and fumbled for his binoculars.

  “I’m only kidding,” she said sheepishly, feeling bad that she’d jolted him from his comfortable state. “Go back to resting. Can I ask you something, though?”

  “What’s that?” Instead of heeding her advice, he reached for his coffee in the cup holder and took a sip, then balanced the cup on his lap.

  “What evidence do you have against Randy? I’m just curious.”

  “Oh, you haven’t heard yet? I thought for sure you’d be the first one called after we spoke with him.”

  “So you did bring him in?”

  “Yes, just before meeting you this morning. And don’t worry, we cleared him.”

  “So, what’d you have on him, then? You know I’ll find out eventually!”

  The detective chuckled. “His fingerprints were on a metal fireplace box we found located inside the Wadsworths’ closet. Apparently for good reason. Randy hid it in the closet for a showing appointment. He assumed there were valuables inside, and he thought it wasn’t wise to leave it out in the open. But when we found it, it was empty.”

  “Ah. So, I’m guessing you wanted to make sure Randy hadn’t been the one to empty it?”

  The detective nodded.

  “I’m glad he’s cleared, then.” Sammy was sure Ellie would be thrilled too.

  The detective let out a yawn and then sighed. “I’m beat.” He rubbed at his tired eyes with his fingers. “I didn’t exactly sleep well last night knowing I had potentially let a murderer walk right out of my department after his interrogation.”

  “A lot of pressure, huh?”

  The detective smiled and wiped his face with his hand as if to will himself awake. “Let’s just say, some nights are better than others.”

  “I’m just curious, why didn’t you invite your friend Ginger from the FBI on this little excursion?” Sammy hinted with a smile.

  Nash chuckled. “The FBI was only involved because Marty was a missing person and his wife’s death had been ruled a homicide. Once Marty was brought in, our need for their assistance was pretty much over. The only thing they’re now paying attention to is Marty to see if these so-called mystery kidnappers show. Personally, I get the feeling Ginger’s thought pattern is that the guy was never kidnapped in the first place. He’s a liar, and hopefully we can prove that today. Besides, you don’t bring a whole cavalry when you’re trying to be discreet. I would’ve thought you of all people would understand that,” he said teasingly, and lifted the coffee to his lips again.

  “Look, here comes a truck.” He pointed a finger out the windshield and set his coffee back into the cup holder.

  Sammy peeked through the binoculars, and just as the detective had said, a blue truck was pulling into the driveway and parking next to the farmhouse. Whoever it was, the person wasn’t concerned about being discreet. Although she could understand why, as it wasn’t exactly Grand Central Station around here. No one was within sight for miles.

  “Who is it?” Nash nudged her with his elbow, causing the binoculars to shift and skew her view.

  “I don’t know. I can’t tell. I can only tell you it looks like a man based on his height and the way he’s dressed. He’s opening the front door of the farmhouse now.”

  The detective confirmed that his weapon was sitting correctly in the holster that crossed his chest before he opened the car door.

  “Please let me go with you. Whoever it is isn’t expecting anyone. It’s highly unlikely this could get dangerous. Please?” Sammy hoped her begging didn’t sound like a whine. “Besides, it’s getting cold inside the car without it running, and I’d be safer with you than without you. Don’t you think?” She wondered if her puppy-dog eyes would have any effect on his answer.

  “No, Samantha,” he said firmly.

  The detective closed the car door carefully so as not to make a noise and put his fingers to his lips to signal for her to remain quiet. She followed his lead and sank down in her seat but proceeded to peak over the dashboard. Nash moved quickly across the street, and even in the snow, he seemed spry. He removed his weapon from his holster and held it at his side while he signaled her to stay inside the car. The detective waited a few minutes to ensure the person was deep inside the house. After a few moments, he entered the front door of the farmhouse, his weapon drawn.

  Sammy sat in the car, looking through the binoculars, and grew frustrated at not seeing a thing. She dropped them to the seat and wrestled a moment with her decision but then quietly opened the car door. Before thinking it completely through, she found herself racing across the street to follow Nash and stepping through the front door.

  At the sound of Sammy closing the screen door, the man turned, and Liam said, “Don’t move.”

  Jackson stood holding the magazine in one hand. When he looked in her direction, confusion contorted his face, as if he couldn’t place her.

  Detective Nash gave Sammy a frustrated glare warning her to stay put. He then turned to face Jackson. “Is this your place?”

  Nash knew it wasn’t, but Sammy figured he was trying to get the suspect to relax and open up. He put his weapon back in his holster to befriend his opponent instead of coming off as threatening, now that he knew Jackson was most likely unarmed.

  “No, no, it’s not,” Jackson answered, and then regarded Sammy. “Wait. You’re related to Heidi. You brought food over for my family the other day. You’re the owner of the craft shop. Community Craft, right? What are you doing here?”

  Jackson scratched his head as he tried to figure out why she was standing in the middle of the living room of a farmhouse that didn’t belong to either of them, accompanied by a detective asking pointed questions.

  “No, Jackson, what are you doing here? Are you still friends with Adam after all these years? I saw the 4-H photo from your youth on the wall. This must be his family’s farm.”

  “Yes, Adam’s father is down south for the winter. Marty suggested I help them out to earn a little extra winter money. They needed someone to check in from time to time, and that’s why I’m here. What are you both doing here, and who are you, anyway?” Jackson’s eyes left Sammy and traveled to the detective. “Quite an entrance you made there with guns blazing!” He chuckled nervously.

  Sammy gestured a hand toward the officer, and he introduced himself. “Detective Liam Nash, Heartsford Police Department.” Nash thrust out a hand for Jackson to shake, and Jackson took it willingly. “We were wondering why someone was entering this home that is obviously vacant. We thought it might be a break-in.”

  The detective stopped short and eyed Sammy as if he had a plan. She had no idea where he was going with this. She wondered if Marty had confided to Jackson that he’d brought her here. That would blow everything. Sammy remained quiet and let him take the lead.

  “So, that’s why you’re here?” Nash asked. “To check in from time to time on your friend’s family’s farm?”

  “Yep,” Jackson said innocently. “Just making sure the pipes don’t freeze in this bitter cold.”

  “And the ransom note that you just ‘happened to drop’ while we were at your house?” Sammy threw up her fingers in air quotes. “That was written with the magazine in your hand,” Sammy blurted. “This is where you wrote it,
didn’t you? The question is, why? Why kidnap Marty? Did you want the large amount of money you mentioned he had hidden in his gun safe from all his card winnings? You didn’t care who you showed the fake ransom note! Just as long as it gave you a solid alibi. Is that it?”

  Jackson’s eyes flew to the detective to gauge his demeanor. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, holding up the cut-up magazine in a defensive stance.

  “What’ve you got there?” The detective nodded in the direction of Jackson’s hand, and he looked down at what he was holding as if he knew he was busted. His face turned instantly ashen.

  Jackson fumbled for the right words. “Hey, Marty knew what he was doing was wrong … and he wouldn’t stop. Craig showed him the test results, proving in black and white that he was destroying people’s lives with what he was selling. And what does Marty go and do? He tosses the results in the bonfire. He knew the seed he was selling was doused in poison. Poison! He knew it, and he refused to fess up to what he’d done. Marty’s a fraud and a thief! No one could stop him, including my sister, so I did what I had to do.”

  “Oh nooo.” Sammy’s hands rose to her cheeks. “I just figured it out. Wanda wasn’t your intended target, was she? Marty was. Marty sold seed to the farm adjacent to yours, didn’t he? And that resulted in you losing more than half your crop, leading to a huge loss in profit. I remember you telling us you didn’t know why you lost half your crop this year. Actually, you had a pretty good idea, didn’t you? Because Wanda told you—didn’t she? She knew what was going on, she knew her husband was selling experimental seed, and so she created a map of all the farms affected. She was waiting for the perfect time to expose her husband, but you couldn’t wait, could you? You meant for Marty to be poisoned, but your own sister used the honey. You didn’t want Marty to do any more business in the farming industry, and you hated the way he treated your sister, but you poisoned the wrong person. You accidently poisoned your sister.”

  Jackson looked like a deer in the headlights. He dropped the magazine to the floor and bolted for the back door.

  “Not so fast.” Officer Maxwell popped out from behind a nearby wall, drew his weapon, and blocked Jackson. He kept the gun steady, pointing directly at the man’s heart. “Put your hands above your head where I can see them. Do it now,” Tim added firmly.

  While Tim clicked on the handcuffs, Sammy asked, “So why kidnap Marty? Was it all about the money in the gun cabinet? Were you really going to kill him too?”

  Jackson lifted his eyes to meet her gaze, looking defeated. “I had no choice. If I didn’t stop Marty, he would’ve continued destroying farms across the state of Wisconsin. I planned to kill him after his capture, but I choked. I couldn’t take another life. And then the jerk escaped anyhow.”

  “Where’s the money?” Nash pushed.

  “Hidden. My plan B was to try and make it look like Marty was using the money to flee after killing Wanda.”

  Sammy interjected, “After Marty escaped, you stole the money from his gun cabinet, knowing full well the police would find it empty, and then you lied to me, Heidi, and Ellie. Correct?”

  Jackson didn’t answer. His eyes dropped to the floor.

  “What about the magazine?” Nash asked.

  “I came here thinking Marty must have been hiding out in his camper, but I couldn’t find him. I looked everywhere, including inside this house, which is when I got the idea for the ransom note. And if I had been smart enough to burn this magazine, we wouldn’t be having this discussion, would we? No one would ever think in a million years it was me. I’d hoped the kidnapping at least would bide me some time. Guess that really worked out as an epic fail.” Jackson hung his head.

  Sammy watched in numb shock as Tim dragged Wanda’s brother out the door and across the snow-covered lot into a recently arrived squad car. She wished she felt better, but watching this unfold had left her cold and traumatized.

  “You know the sad part?” Sammy asked as she moved to stand next to Liam.

  “What’s that?”

  “Jackson’s inherently a good guy. He let bitterness toward his brother-in-law get the best of him, leading him to spin an alibi completely out of control. If his guilt hadn’t led him to this twisted cover-up, you probably never would have caught him, would you?”

  “You’d be surprised how many convictions I get due to a guilty conscience and the incessant need to try and cover things up.”

  “Does it ever go away?”

  He turned to face her. “Does what ever go away?”

  “The underlying sadness that finding the truth uncovers. Does it ever help to know the truth? If only people could reach out and talk to one another … and really listen to what the other had to say … wouldn’t a lot of this be avoided, then?”

  “I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”

  “If only people could communicate.” Sammy pushed her hands deep into her coat pockets.

  “Yeah.” He turned to her. “If only people could listen and follow directions.” He bopped her on the nose with his finger.

  “Touché.” She smiled sheepishly.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The resolution behind the mystery into Wanda’s tragic death set the town of Heartsford back on its axis. Folks passed in and out of Community Craft with less chatter on their lips regarding her untimely passing and began focusing on the life she’d led, thus beginning the healing process. Everyone recalled the kindness and warmth Wanda had added to their sweet little town. Her lap quilt hung in a prominent place above the back door as a reminder of the life she’d shared willingly and the quilts she’d made and selflessly given away within their community. Since her husband was now serving time on kidnapping charges and Jackson was headed for life in prison, Sammy felt it fitting to keep the quilt where Wanda’s “chosen family”—the quilters and seamstresses of Community Craft—spent the most time.

  Heidi stepped through the back door and eyed Sammy looking at the quilt. “Wanda’s work of art looks perfect up there. I like that you can see it immediately if you walk in off Main Street.” She pointed toward the front entrance of the building.

  “Yeah, me too. It’s a pretty amazing quilt too. The fact that Wanda quilted those blocks together to atone for her husband’s wrongdoings. She wanted the farmers affected to at least be part of the trail map. She felt they all deserved something to make up for her husband’s bad judgment. She convinced the committee to paint barn blocks for each and every one of them.”

  “She was pretty amazing that way.”

  “Yep, she sure was,” Sammy said with a lump forming in her throat. “The quilting group decided that instead of quilting something in her honor, we’d each sew a block and patch it together to donate to someone special. That’s what Wanda would’ve wanted.”

  Heidi wrapped her arm around Sammy’s shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze, then looped her by the arm. The two stepped deeper into the shop and met Ellie by the cash register.

  “I just locked the front door. Another day in the books,” Ellie said, rubbing her abdomen. “Time to get home and make supper.”

  “How are things with you and Randy? Getting back to normal, I hope?” Sammy asked cautiously.

  “Yeah, we’re getting there.” Ellie smiled. “You think you know everything about a partner, and then you learn you don’t.” She sighed. “Life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” She looked down at her belly. “Randy’s been sweet lately, though. He’s even agreed to paint the nursery. Gender-neutral of course,” she added with a gleam in her eye.

  “Any word on Wanda’s house?”

  “Randy thinks he might have a potential buyer. We’ll see. Looks like the money from the sale will go to pay Marty’s lawyer. As well as the money Jackson stole from Marty’s gun safe. How’s that for irony? I still can’t believe Jackson deliberately dropped that envelope with the ransom to solidify his alibi in front of witnesses. Apparently, he was waiting for just the right group of mourners t
o cement his case, and there we came. Seriously, if Marty hadn’t had the smarts to escape and hop in the back of that freight train to Heartsford and go into hiding, he might not have survived either. Jackson had already taken one life; his conscious wouldn’t allow him to take two, but if he’d had more time, he might’ve got the courage. He thought for sure the police were on to him, and the truth is, he probably would’ve gotten away with it!”

  “Crazy. Jackson went back to Adam’s family farm looking for Marty, and he must’ve literally just missed him! Do you know how close to death I was?” Sammy shuddered and shook her head in disbelief. “I can only think of poor Wanda and what her own family did to her. First her husband, then her brother. What a shame.”

  Heidi piped up, “Can you imagine that one bad move led Wanda to drink that poison? Apparently, she never added honey to her morning tea. That was Marty’s routine. For some strange reason she decided to sweeten her tea that one day—huge mistake. That’s where Jackson really messed up, making that mountain laurel honey concoction. Can you imagine hurting your own sister like that by accident? He’ll have to live with that for the rest of his life behind bars. Hopefully Teyla and the kids will be okay.”

  “That’s what makes me really sad. Jackson’s kids losing their aunt, and now their father is headed for life in prison. Their uncle will do some time also. So sad.” Sammy hung her head.

  “And what about you, Miss Heidi?” Ellie rose a brow and nudged her cousin playfully with an elbow.

  “What do you mean?” Heidi asked.

  “You’re all dressed up in those knee-high boots.” Ellie took her cousin by the hand and spun her in front of them. “Perfect makeup … and your hair looks beautiful tied back with that bejeweled butterfly pin. What gives?”

  “I’m on my way to meet Tim at the Corner Grill for a pizza,” Heidi said, fluttering her eyelashes as a cautious smile rose to her lips.

  This news grabbed Sammy and Ellie’s attention.

  “Just talking … we’ll see.” Heidi chuckled. “Thank you, Sammy. I heard you talked to Tim on my behalf, and I do appreciate it,” she added seriously. “I stopped by here before dinner because I’m actually curious about this one.” She nodded her head in Sammy’s direction. “Rumor has it you have plans for this evening?”