“He’ll think I’m trying to pick him up.”
“That’s not the worst thing in the world, is it? To repeat what my mother tells me about once a week: you aren’t getting any younger.”
“Gee, thanks, no one’s reminded me of that for a month or so.” I rolled my eyes.
“We both know that being single is way better than being married to someone like Kirk.” Pinky’s long-term sweetheart and short-term husband.
“That’s for sure. So that’s what we’ll keep telling ourselves, and each other.” I remembered I hadn’t unlocked my shop door or turned the Closed sign to Open. “I better get to work.”
“Nobody breaking down the door yet, at least.”
“Not much going on this morning, huh?”
“It’s been fairly quiet so far. The usual early rush, but not much after that. Except for your fan club, that is.”
I smiled, turned, and set about opening my shop for business. My mind took a run-through of the past few days—the trip to Atwood with Clint, the bike thief in the alley and Clint responding to the call, Clint stopping me to ask about the newspaper article, dinner out at Sherman’s, my friends’ strange behavior. And then May paying a visit to the last person on earth I’d expect her to. I couldn’t get that out of my mind, so I gave in to my urge to call Pam.
I’d kept the copy of the class list, which included all the attendees’ phone numbers, and found it in the short stack of papers on the counter. I waited until Pinky was talking to some customers then carried my phone to the back of the store and dialed Pam’s number. After five rings, it went to voicemail. Leave a message, or not? “Hi, Pamela, it’s Camryn Brooks. I wanted to see how you’re doing. Please give me a call at my shop anytime before six. Thanks.”
After I’d hung up I thought about the fact that she hadn’t answered her door, and thirty minutes later, she didn’t answer her phone. It was entirely possible she was avoiding me. After all, I was the one who had made the awful discovery about her boyfriend, and she may not want to have anything further to do with me. I wandered back to my counter, sat down, and picked up the class list. Pinky had told me not to call any of them to ask about May’s missing supplies. May was perfectly capable of handling that, plus she’d know the value of the items. I didn’t feel compelled to hunt down her things, anyway.
I was more interested in finding out if one of the attendees had made a snow globe with a man sleeping on a park bench under a full moon. And if so, why would they leave it on a Curio Finds shelf, and how had they gotten it back later that night when the doors were locked? At least mine was. I hadn’t personally checked Brew Ha-Ha’s door, which happened to ding at that moment.
I poked my head into Pinky’s space and saw she was alone. I needed her blessings on an idea that had popped into my head, a way to talk to the class members without raising any red flags. At least that was what I hoped. “Pinky, you mentioned hosting another class down the road, so I was thinking we should do a little phone survey of everyone from our last class.”
“What kind of a survey?”
“You know, like they do at seminars. But there you have to fill out an evaluation form before you leave.”
“Cami, I haven’t taken a class since my brief stint in college umpteen years ago, and I don’t have a clue about what to ask on a survey.”
“Things like, was the space adequate? Did the instructor know her stuff? Would you attend another class if it was offered? What classes might you be interested in in the future?”
“Ooh.” She tugged at the wide pink headband that kept her unruly hair away from her face. “Okay. If you write up the questions, I’m game.”
“You know what? I’m having a slow day and I’m looking for something to do. I’ll take care of the calls and will tell you what everyone has to say.”
“If you want to, sure. Why don’t you see if they’d like to learn how to make perfect scones?”
I shook my head. “You don’t want to take away from your own business.”
“Oh, yeah, I guess that could. Well, then, maybe they’d want to find out more about coffee beans, how they’re grown and selected—”
I interrupted her. “Maybe.” I headed back to my own counter and the class list. I took out two legal pads and jotted down a few class-specific questions on one of them and left the other one blank for other information that might come out during the conversations.
I picked up the phone, hoping to catch someone at home on a weekday morning. The two older ladies from my church were the most likely to be available, but then again, I knew a lot of seniors were always on the go. I didn’t suspect either woman of anything, but knew I’d have to call everyone on the list to be fair. People talked, and if the little old ladies realized they hadn’t been asked to participate in the survey, they might feel left out. I dialed the first one’s number.
“Good morning,” Rena answered, and the smile on her face came through her voice.
“Good morning, it’s Camryn Brooks.”
“Oh, yes, Camryn. How wonderful of you to take the time to call, what with all you have going on in your life since the other night. Wasn’t that a fright?”
“Yes, Rena, that’s a good word. Things are settling down a little, so I wanted to call everyone who came to the snow globe–making class and ask how they liked it.”
“Oh, my, it was such a treat to be there and learn all about making snow and putting the globes together. Edie and I were talking about it, and we’re going to get together and make some more, one for each of our grandchildren.” Edie was the other church lady.
“How fun. What scene did you do again?”
“I used an old white country church set with pine trees.”
I remembered that one. “You didn’t have time to make two?”
“No, no, I don’t think anyone did. I know the teacher said she had extra supplies, but I didn’t see anyone buying any.” I hadn’t, either, and that reminded me I should ask May that very question.
We chatted for a few more minutes, and Rena assured me the space was fine, the teacher was helpful and knew her stuff, and she’d love to take another class at our shops. If Rena had heard the gossip about how teacher May and student Pamela were connected, she did not let on.
I phoned Edie next and had a similar conversation with her. She and Rena were looking forward to making snow globes and taking whatever class we may offer next time around.
I spoke with the mother who had brought her crafty teenage daughter to the class. From what I learned, their family was fairly new in town, and the two of them had been looking for something fun to do while her husband and son were at a high school football game. She told me what scenes they had each chosen, and neither was a guy sleeping on a park bench.
The fourth call was to Kim, one of Pinky’s regulars and someone I knew casually because she stopped in nearly every day for coffee and a muffin. She wasn’t home, and I decided not to leave a message. It was better for me to try back later than to risk her returning my call when I was busy with customers.
The oldest of the class attendees was a frequent window shopper at Curio Finds. Emmy would come in and shake one or two or three globes and watch them snow over the various scenes. She was sweet and meek and told me she didn’t have room for more things in her small house. I suspected the two real reasons were she had little means and browsing helped ease her loneliness. I was glad she had attended the class. We talked for a long time, which lightened my mood, and I think made her feel better, too. Emmy had made a wildlife scene with deer licking a salt block and kept it on the end table by her recliner chair. She had no plans to make more snow globes, but might come to another class to get out of the house.
The last attendee was a crafter who lived in the area and traveled all over to sell her goods at arts and crafts fairs. We talked for a minute, but she was busy packing up her wares for an event the next day and seemed distracted. I went quickly through the questions. She had enjoyed the class, but w
as in the middle of too many projects to think about making any more snow globes until probably next spring so she’d have a good supply for the following fall sales.
I finally reached Kim at about 5:40 in the afternoon, and she sang praises for the class, even though she had gotten the nitty-gritty from Pinky on what had happened with May and Pamela and Erin and Lauren. But that hadn’t taken anything away from how much fun she’d had in the class or how much her daughter loved the Cinderella snow globe she’d made for her. She went on about Jerrell Powers until I had a beep telling me there was another call coming in.
“Kim, sorry, but there’s a phone call I have to take.”
“Okay, thanks, Camryn. Bye-bye for now.”
I smiled when I saw who it was and pushed the talk button. “Curio Finds, Camryn speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hi, it’s Pam Hemley. You called?” Her voice held little emotion, as though she were weary or depressed.
“Yes, thanks for calling me back. I wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Not all that well, to be honest with you. I didn’t know it would be this hard.”
“You mean Jerrell’s death?”
“Yes, I mean, he was gone for those couple of years and all. When he came home last Friday I didn’t really know what to do. I wasn’t expecting him for a few days yet. But he wanted to surprise me so that’s why he didn’t tell me his real release date.”
“I imagine it was a big surprise.”
“Yes, especially since Lauren was there. I still loved Jerrell and all, but Lauren had pretty much convinced me he wasn’t good for me. His homecoming was not the way he hoped it would be, I know that much. He and Lauren argued. And then she brought up the class I was signed up for, and Jerrell said that was fine, I should go, he had things to take care of anyway.”
“Did he say what kinds of things?”
“No, and when I asked him, he wouldn’t tell me.”
“Then what happened?”
“He left and we went to the class.”
And we all knew how the night ended. “Thanks for calling me back, Pam. I have to be honest and tell you I thought either you were avoiding me or you weren’t up to opening your door this morning.”
“Opening my door?” She sounded puzzled.
“Yes, I stopped by, and I thought you might be home, but no one came to the door.”
“What time was that?”
“Around nine thirty.”
“I was at work by eight. No one was home.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. “Oh. Well, I didn’t know your schedule so I took a chance you’d be there.”
“That was kind of you. I didn’t feel like going in today, but Lauren said being busy is the best thing I can do right now.”
Lauren. Her name kept coming up in the conversation. “Lauren isn’t still staying with you?”
“No, but she checks in a few times a day and has been down a couple of evenings. She’s got her own family to take care of, but with my kids away at college, she doesn’t want me to be alone.”
“Where do your kids go to school?”
“They’re both at UND.” University of North Dakota, almost three hundred miles northwest of Brooks Landing in Grand Forks. “And I didn’t want them to take off school to be with me. They have midterms.”
Lauren wasn’t staying with Pam and her kids were over four hours away. So who had been at her house earlier? It was someone who knew May Gregors well enough to invite her in and spend fifteen or so minutes with her. And send along a brown shopping bag with her when she left. I was in a quandary over what to tell Pam, but she had the right to know what had happened at her own house that morning.
“Pam—”
She cut me off. “I’ve got to go; the police are here. Thanks again.” She hung up before I could say “’bye.”
I hung up myself. Maybe the police had gotten a tip from a neighbor about suspicious activities going on at Pamela’s house, strangers coming and going when she was at work. Or they may have learned she was involved with Jerrell Powers’s death after all and were there to arrest her, although that seemed unlikely.
Pinky had left about an hour before. She rarely had much business near suppertime, so it usually worked for me to be on my own for the last couple of hours. I glanced at the clock and smiled when I saw it was 5:55. I turned off the lights, flipped the Open sign, and checked to be sure the coffeemakers were shut down, then I locked the doors and was in my car by six o’clock on the dot. The sun was low in the sky on this cloudy evening. I felt fairly anonymous driving to Pam’s neighborhood in the fading light.
A police car was parked on the street directly in front of her house. I drove on past, but her drapes were closed so I didn’t see which officer, or officers, was inside with her. I went around the block then stopped at the stop sign on the cross street a half block from Pam’s house. If someone came up behind me, I’d move forward. A few minutes later, Assistant Chief Clinton Lonsbury exited the front door. All alone, with no one in handcuffs. Pamela Hemley was not under arrest. Not yet anyway.
I didn’t want Clint to see me, but I had no magic means to disappear into thin air. I had worn out my welcome at the stop sign and eased forward, hoping he wouldn’t notice it was my car driving past his. No such luck. He turned on his flashing lights for a second. I pulled over to the curb before he made a bigger deal of getting my attention and alerted the entire neighborhood.
Clint walked up to my car door and tapped on the window. I rolled it down. “Miss Brooks, what are you doing on this side of town?”
“Just driving through.”
“You’re not following me, are you?”
“Following you? No.” I needed to change the subject fast. “Assistant Chief Lonsbury, don’t officers need a good reason to stop a person?”
“Yes, we do, and this wasn’t a stop. I accidentally bumped the switch that activated my lights, and you’d pulled over by the time I’d flipped it back. I thought you must have wanted to talk to me about something.”
“Oh, well, no. And not that it’s any of my business, but isn’t that Pamela Hemley’s house?” I pointed my thumb back.
“It is. I gave Ms. Hemley the official death report on Powers and told her the medical examiner has released his body so she could go ahead and make the funeral arrangements.”
“Is it secret, the medical examiner’s report?”
“We’re not withholding the cause of death. It was a stab wound to the heart.” With the knife I’d tried to pull out.
I nodded. “Making any progress? Like, with finding Benjamin Arnold?”
“Not yet. But we’re working on it, trying to dig up leads, so it’s only a matter of time.” Saying the word must have prompted him to look at his watch. “I need to push off. Drive safely.”
Clint walked back to his car and I turned my head for a look at Pam’s house. No one was looking out, thank heavens. I didn’t want to have to come up with an explanation of what I was doing there talking to the assistant chief of police. Especially since she knew I’d been at her home that morning and she’d told me not thirty minutes before that the police were there. I’d have to get a lot better at spying on people.
I put on my turn signal and pulled away from the curb. Clint was still sitting in his car when I drove away. He’d given me the reason for his visit and it didn’t include suspicious people in Pam’s house. What was a good way to talk to her about that? I’d forgotten May Gregors’s phone number at the store and swung back to get it.
As I pulled up to Curio Finds, I noticed a man on a bike on the other side of the street going the opposite direction. He was lanky and I was almost ready to bet it was the same guy who’d crashed in my alley. Then it dawned on me he might also be the same one I’d seen the other two times: at Sherman’s and outside Pinky’s coffee shop window. There were no cars coming from either direction. I did a quick U-turn to follow him, but he had disappeared. I took a gamble and turned right on Division St
reet, but there was no sign of him. I drove around the area for a while, but had no success finding him.
Who was that elusive guy? And what was it about him that drew my attention? He seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He showed up places, but acted like he didn’t want to be seen. It was entirely possible I was blowing the whole thing out of proportion. I went back to the store, found May’s number, and headed home.
My house felt more lonely than normal as I wandered from the living room to the kitchen. Maybe Sandra’s spirit or essence, or whatever it was, was fading. I grabbed a glass of water and went back to the living room and plopped on the couch. I pulled the paper with May’s number on it out of my pocket and programmed the number into my cell phone. For future reference. I dialed and waited.
“May Gregors and Distinctive Crafts.” She’d added her business name to her greeting.
“Hi, May, it’s Camryn Brooks.”
“Oh, Camryn, your name didn’t come up on the display.”
“I’m on my cell phone. Anyway, I thought I’d check back with you to see if your missing supplies turned up.”
“No, they haven’t.”
“I happened to see you in town today and thought maybe someone had found them and you were picking them up.”
She was silent a minute. “Oh, well, yes, I was in Brooks Landing today to, um, take care of some business, but not about the supplies.”
“To let you know, I surveyed everyone in the class about how they liked it, and if the space was okay, things like that. Everyone enjoyed it and you as the instructor.”
“Well, thank you, I appreciate hearing that. The fun we had at the class paled with the confrontation after, and I apologize for that.”
“No need to, really. Oh, and when I talked to the class members, I didn’t come right out and ask them if they had somehow ended up with your missing supplies, but I didn’t get the impression any of them did.”
“I didn’t mean to make such a big deal out of it. They probably amounted to around twenty, maybe twenty-five dollars’ worth. If they turn up, great; if not, it’s not going to make or break me.”
Snow Way Out Page 13