“Nothing to worry about. They’re being questioned again, Wanda and Stone.” Aaron glanced at his watch. “I have ten minutes left.” He gave me a quick kiss.
“Really? Maybe something will happen now?”
Aaron nodded at me.
“Find a motive yet?”
“They may let them go. Their attorney is with them and whipping up a storm, so it won’t be long and they’ll be free to leave.”
“Ahh jeez, then it’ll be back to square one.”
“Everyone is suspect. Everyone will be interrogated again. Remember that.” Aaron finished his wrap, and so did I.
“Find out about Polly yet?”
“Not yet, but plan on it. I just forgot because of the Two Jims.” I finished my sandwich. “Will you be over tonight?” I asked after we’d picked up the wrappers and bottles, which I threw away.
“Yes. Of course.” He kissed me. “Say, have you had time to look through that magazine of historical houses? There’s a picture you might find interesting.” We stopped near the squad car. “Call me after you’ve found it.”
“Won’t you tell me which one?”
“Nope. It must jump out at you, or it won’t count.” He eyed me closely. “Seriously.”
“Really?” I waited until he’d driven away before hustling back inside. “And, they say women are mysterious.” I sighed, sitting down. I found Aaron’s magazine and opened it up.
Since I wasn’t sure what to look for, I skimmed the pages. Nothing caught my eye, so I went back to page one to look closer. Presidential homes were featured in the beginning, starting with Mount Vernon, George Washington’s home. I marveled at how well-preserved the house was, which propelled me to keep looking. The homes were featured in order of the presidency, so John Adams’ farm in Braintree, Massachusetts was next, Jefferson’s Monticello, with many more including Franklin Roosevelt’s in Hyde Park and Theodore Roosevelt’s in Oyster Bay. I loved looking at all the pictures and it helped pass the time, since I couldn’t do anything in the store. Curious, I kept looking.
I wanted to leave so bad, but the doors would be locked and the mailman may not leave the mail. I might miss the wonderful mail order sale. I went back to looking at the magazine photos. For the life of me, I searched for something spectacular, but nothing jumped out at me. I set the magazine aside while glancing into the hallway at all the dust hanging in the air.
Groaning, I reopened the magazine once again. The next section featured homes from Our Founding Fathers—those who hadn’t already been featured in the presidents’ pages.
The first page of this section featured a large photo of Alexander Hamilton’s home, the Grange. I learned that it’s still located on the original plot of land that once belonged to the family in New York City. The room images were crystal clear, so I peered closer. A parlor wall hanging caught my attention. I wasn’t quite certain of the dates on the embroidery. The sampler corners, however, were what captured my attention.
The upper-right had a marigold. The upper left had a rose. The lower left and right each had a marigold. The similarity to Grandma’s sampler was unnerving. Shivering, I realized that the hair on my neck tingled. That Aaron, he knew it matched.
Chapter Ten
Just as I was ready to press the button to speed dial Aaron, Max entered. I dropped the phone back into my pocket and shoved the magazine aside. “You surprised me.”
“What’s that you got there?” Max looked down at the magazine, then back up at me. “Pictures, eh? Thinking about expanding from White Houses to other mansions?” He turned the magazine around for easy viewing.
“What’s up?” I wanted to change the subject. “The guys are finished with the floor. Have you seen it yet? It’s really nice. It shines like satin sheets.” I sucked in my breath, and the lingering smell plus the dust made me cough.
“Not yet, only from a distance.” Max studied me with arms crossed, which forced me to paste an innocent look on my face. “You’ve got something up your sleeve. Fess up.”
“I’d like to know how you can always read my mind? I’m just thinking about these pictures, and wishing I could see these homes. The dollhouses need a few more years to get off the ground before I expand. We’re a new company.”
“Ahh, yes, a new company.” Max cleared his throat and jutted out his chin. “At least let me hire the next head carver.”
“We would both want to see how fine they cut and how intricate they are with facial lines. It takes a steady hand. Wouldn’t want it any other way.” Thankfully, at that moment, my cell phone rang. It was Grandma. “Hi Grandma. The floor looks wonderful.” I listened as she talked about a schedule change with Pastor Dahl. “Okay, I’ll call you right back Grandma.” I disconnected. “Let’s go look.”
“Glad this is done.” I started for the showroom with Max following. I didn’t want to show him the pictured wall hanging because it’s so incredible—another coincidence. “The smell is going to make me sick, if we don’t get some ventilation in here.”
“It’ll clear out soon enough. We can prop open the doors for a few minutes in the morning, but it should dry solid tonight.” Max stood for a minute. “Guess you want to leave?”
“I’ve got things to do, like wedding plans.”
“Hmm. Guess that’s why you’re looking through mansion magazines instead of brides’?”
“Aaron wanted me to look at something.” I swept around him and scooped the magazine from the counter. “Gotta run. I’ll lock on the way out.” I stood by the bathroom door.
“Good.”
I grabbed my coat and bag before heading outside without looking back. Once in the car, I speed-dialed Aaron, but got stuck with voice mail and left the message, “A rose? On the wallhanging? It means something, but what?” Next, I called Grandma and found that I was supposed to meet her at the florist in fifteen minutes. The appointment with Pastor Dahl was changed because of a parishioner’s death. Grandpa was dropping her off at the florist, and I was supposed to drive her home when it was finished. I headed the car toward south Minneapolis.
Zipping through downtown was only possible in the middle of the night. At this time of day, bumper-to-bumper traffic backed up the roads. It seemed to take forever for the stoplights to turn green. Eventually, I turned onto Cedar where it angled toward Minnehaha Avenue. The florist shop came into view. I turned the corner and parked in the rear.
I hurried inside and found Grandma sitting and paging through a floral album. Approaching, I said, “I want plenty of roses in my bouquet, orchids for the men. Maggie’s bouquet must match mine. That’s all I care about.” I continued, “Can we get married at home? Over Christmas? The house is already so perfectly decorated. It’d be spectacular.”
“Now, you bring it up? We have to talk with Grandpa. What about Aaron?” Grandma looked at the florist and said, “I think we’ll have to get back to you.”
“I just thought of that now. The banister would be lovely clothed in green, lit with tiny lights. Oh, Grandma, it’d be so lovely!”
“We’ll call you once the wedding location is settled, but for sure she’ll want the bridal party flowers and her bouquet,” Grandma said to the florist. Looking at me, she said, “Let’s go home where we can discuss this more clearly.”
“All right.” During the walk to the car, I asked, “What’s on your mind?”
“I just ordered sprays for the tables.” Grandma’s eyes glimmered with tears. “Your mother would insist on having one, and also a pianist for the ceremony.”
It was pretty quiet in the car on the way home. Grandma didn’t say much of anything, except how pretty it looked outside, and that it was beginning to cloud up, as if a snowstorm was brewing.
I drove into the driveway and shut the engine off.
“You’ll make a lovely bride. Your mother would be so proud,” Grandma said, bursting into tears. “It’ll be fine, dear. I have to speak to Grandpa about something first, but you go ahead and see what Aaron has to say
. He may want a church wedding.” She climbed from the car and we hurried inside.
“Pastor Dahl won’t mind, will he?”
“No. I suspect that he’d like performing the ceremony here. He’s a good man.”
“Good.” I told Grandma about the beautiful floor now that the Two Jims were finished. We agreed to do the final cleaning ourselves. The phone rang and it was Aaron.
“Grandma, I’m grabbing a bottle of wine and going over to Aaron’s. Go ahead and eat without me.” I went downstairs to the wine cellar. Another reason I hated fetching the bottle was because I had to punch in numbers to unlock the door. Guess it was Grandpa’s way to stifle teenage drinking and he’s never removed the lock. When downstairs, I’d always hear strange noises and jump, only to realize it was the furnace kicking on or the motor in the wine cellar, which kept it at an even temperature. Since Grandpa had once been a wine salesman and had also owned a wine store, “The Grapes of Craft,” we were never in short supply.
Grandpa sat by the kitchen table when I returned to the room. “Hi, Grandpa.” I gave him a kiss. “I’m spending the evening with Aaron.”
“How’s the floor?”
“Perfect. It’s gorgeous. Grandma and I are going to finish cleaning up. There’s dust from here to China and back.” I still shivered from the basement dampness. “I’m going to talk to Aaron about having the wedding here. What do you say about that?”
“Anything for my granddaughter.” Grandpa’s eyes twinkled. “As long as I can walk the bride down the aisle, it doesn’t matter where it’s at.”
“Thanks, Grandpa.” I kissed both of my grandparents’ cheeks. With the historic houses magazine and the bottle in hand, I headed out the door. A couple minutes later I was at Aaron’s back door, where he greeted me with a kiss.
“Missed you.”
“You too.”
I tossed the magazine down on the table.
“Before we start talking about the picture, I have to ask—do you really want a church wedding or can we get married at my house?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer.
“It doesn’t matter. I just want you.”
“Good.” I let out my breath. “I hoped you’d say that.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“There are too many coincidences. I also have something to tell you, but I’ve been afraid to.”
Aaron held the corkscrew in one hand, the bottle in his other, and stared at me. “Tell me. Just because I’m a cop, you shouldn’t hold anything back. We have to trust each other, honey,” he said opening the bottle.
“I know. I’m just afraid of further questioning or suspicions.” I watched him pour the glasses. My heart thumped because of his silence. I took the offered glass. “Thanks, dear.”
“You don’t need to worry, honey. They know you didn’t kill her. They’ve told me.” He leaned over and kissed me. “You’ve got to trust me,” he said.
“I do.” I took a swallow and started for the living room, and he followed.
“What’s on your mind?” Aaron asked.
“I’m wondering about that burglar. That person who tried to steal the cufflinks? Did you do any investigating into the matter?” I asked, twirling my glass of wine. “I think Grandpa hid them because of their value, and the burglary from a long time ago.”
“August was right. The burglar is dead and, by all reports, he had acted alone. It was during the Great Depression when no one had extra cash,” Aaron said, shrugging. “Everyone was broke. Everyone needed cash. Brother can you spare a dime?”
“How true,” I agreed. “They’re in the birdcage drawer up in the attic.” I sipped from my glass. “Pretty smart, eh?”
“Not bad.” He pursed his lips. “Have the detectives questioned you about the dolls?”
“Surprisingly, no they haven’t.”
“They’ve had their hands full with questioning suspects. There’s been no real leads, at least from what I can tell. I bet they’ll soon be in contact.”
“I’m sure that you’re right,” I said, raising the wine to my lips.
“Tell me your first thoughts when you saw the sampler picture from the Hamilton house.”
“Really weird. It made my hair stand on end! But think about it. Now we have two roses. Dolley bequeathed the cufflinks upon her death to Elijah Putnam. who was distantly related to Grandpa and me.” I set my empty glass down.
“Tell me that this isn’t all a coincidence or not meant to happen. I believe it was all going to happen,” Aaron said.
“Let me do a quick search on Polly.” I reached for Aaron’s iPad and came up with a few sites. “You won’t believe this.”
“She had a bird named Polly?” Aaron’s eyes opened wide.
“Let’s get a sheet of paper to draw the two samplers. It’ll give us a better perspective.” I went to his computer printer and removed a few blank sheets. I reached for a stray pen. “I’ll start with Grandma’s. Go and get the magazine from the kitchen table, will you?” He walked out as I began to draw. I knew the design and dates like the back of my hand, and had it on paper almost instantly.
“Here.” Aaron set the open magazine page down in front of me. “We need a magnifier.”
As he went to find one, I began drawing the second sampler, beginning with the larger embroidered motifs. With the magnifier, I counted the dots on the strawberry sidebars. The center dates were identical to the dates on Grandma’s sampler. Puzzled, I sat back and studied the two drawings after I’d finished. The samplers were filled with clues.
“What do you think?” Aaron scratched his head as he reached for the paper. “I believe that clues abound, we just have to figure out their meanings.”
“Polly means something. I bet it’s where she buried it. Whatever ‘it’ is.”
“Yes, whatever ‘it’ is that we’re looking for, but it’s been over two hundred years!” Aaron rubbed his jaw. “It doesn’t fit.”
“We have to keep digging. Are there two more samplers out there—somewhere?” With shaky fingers, I took the paper from him and held it up to the light. “Thirteen dots on each strawberry. Thirteen strawberries, top and bottom. Four along the sides. All are going up and down as if dancing. What does that mean when the top and bottom are aligned?”
“They are almost identical.” Aaron stared at the paper. “We should make a list of all these coincidences. Maybe we can see a pattern?” He got up and pulled out another blank sheet, and sat back down. “Where should we begin?”
“We’ll start with the murder. That has to tie-in here, somehow.” I studied the drawn picture. “I know the answer is here, but where? What is it?”
“Right. Good as any place to begin.” He wrote Jackie Newell’s Murder at the top of the page. “Why did she come to Minneapolis? Why to your store? There must be plenty of dollhouse stores across the country or world, right?”
“It’s because of the lineage connection.” I sat back and thought hard, clicking reasons off on my fingers. “Number one, the White House. No other doll store specializes in these eras, the early White House years—whatever you want to call it.” When Aaron raised his brow, I said, “It comes down to the dolls. I swear it.”
“What about the dolls?”
“It can’t be the dolls themselves. Something about the dolls, like the cufflinks. But—why kill for them? Who would know that she was going to see me?” I thought about the many orders of dollhouses that I’ve made in the past few years, which includes the dolls. Sewing all the Inaugural gowns is no easy feat especially when they have to be as close to perfect as possible. Learning to package all the furnishings and have them delivered without breakage wasn’t easy. The first shipment of the Kennedy White House I had found tricky because the flowers are fragile. I placed each individually in a plastic bag and blew air around them so they wouldn’t break, and it worked. “I wonder about the samplers?”
“But how can they be connected to the cufflinks?” Aaron stared at me, tapping the pen on th
e table.
“The White House, male clothing, that’s what stands out.” He starred the two entries. “It seems as if she was after the cufflinks, but why?” He threw down the pen. “What are we missing?”
“How it ties in with the samplers. How Grandma’s and the one shown from Hamilton’s house in the magazine are so similar, but have different corner motifs. What’s the connection and what or why does it have my curiosity? There’s something that I’m not seeing.”
“As in what are we missing? A sign?” Aaron asked.
“Also, the gadroon and Polly are puzzling. Would she have buried the bird?” I asked. “I believe that once we figure out the meaning behind each corner and the dancing strawberries, we’ll have a clearer picture of what we’re after.”
“What’s the significance of the rose?” Aaron asked.
“It’s symbolic. Roses are a symbol of love and romance.” I chuckled. “I get it. The rose depicts James or Jemmy, as she called him. Jemmy was her love. They were lovers!” I grinned. “Can it be that simple? Or is it that we’re after a greatly loved item?”
“Hard to say.” Aaron leaned over and kissed my ear, then gave me tiny kisses down my throat. “What do you think?”
“Honey.” My cell phone interrupted our foreplay. “Just a minute, let me shut this off.” I reached for it, and found that I’d just received a new message. I opened it. It read: times up. I dropped the phone. Fear zipped through my body. I jumped up and wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Look.” My voice was so shaky I barely recognized it. “It’s them.”
Aaron read the message. “We’re turning this over to the detectives.”
“I’ll call right now.” I reached for the phone. I spoke directly to Detective Erlandsen. “I’m at Aaron Reynolds’ house. I’ll be at my house in five.”
“Who is this from?” Aaron held up the envelope that had fallen from my purse.
“I don’t know. Forgot about it.” I put the phone back into my bag. “Open it.”
The Blood Spangled Banner: A First Ladies Mystery Page 10