When No One Was Looking (Sophie McGuire Mysteries)

by Jenny Rebecca Keech

  “Beverly,” Charlene stated briskly to the dark haired woman behind the counter, “Would you mind finding out where the dress is that Johanna ordered for me?”

  “Johanna?” Beverly called out, still finishing the purchase for Olivia Merino, who stared at Charlene with a notched brow and intimidating look. Charlene ignored the glare.

  Johanna stuck her head out through some draped curtains that were pulled back from the opening. She looked slightly frazzled but stuck a quick a pleasant smile across her face at the sight of customers. “Charlene. Oh, Melissa’s dress, of course. Give me a moment and I’ll pull it right out.” She glanced up at Michael. Her look brightened. “Michael,” Johanna beamed, “Could you do me a huge favor? One of the delivery men placed a box way too high for me to reach without a step ladder. I would greatly appreciate it if you could lower it so I could get my hands on it. I so detest dragging that ladder from the back room.”

  Michael paused briefly in surprise. Then gave a quick abrupt nod. The smile across his face seemed tight. He couldn’t be upset with Johanna so I pursed my lips in thought as I watched him follow her into the back room. I forgot about the expression when Johanna came out a moment later with a wrapped dress and laid it on the counter beside Charlene’s other purchases. She proceeded to open the package and allow Charlene to check to make certain that everything was in order. The dress was a beautiful, shimmering blue gown that would drape to just below the knees. I had to admit it was classy and tasteful.

  “I went by the measurements for the bridesmaid dress she had made a few months ago,” Johanna said briskly, “This style is similar. Let Melissa know that if she has any problems when trying it on all she has to do is bring it back in to the shop. We’ll take care of it.” She beamed. “I’m sure that she will love the gift. Is the party a surprise?”

  “No.” Charlene sighed dramatically. “I knew there was never going to be a chance of keeping it a secret with all the invites going out.” Charlene shook her head and passed Beverly her card. Beverly began the action of processing the order, folding each pair of clothing with care and precision before slipping them into a shopping bag emblazoned with the Southern Comfort label. Charlene glanced toward the drapes blocking the view into the back room. “Michael?”

  There was a grunt and then a thud. Johanna jerked her head up from the dress order form she was looking over. She passed the receipt to Beverly and tilted her head toward the back. “Everything okay back there, Michael?”

  “Yea, got it,” Came the mutter. A moment later, Michael slipped his tall frame through the opening. “Sorry. Everything’s fine.” He glanced at Johanna. “I have no idea how those delivery men expected you to bring that heavy box down to the floor. It was all I could do to lift it. Even so, the top popped open.” Michael raised his hands. “But nothing fell out.”

  “Oh, thank heavens,” Johanna sighed. “That’s some of my new spring collection. Some exclusive Southern Comfort signature clothes.”

  “Really,” Charlene stated in excitement. Her brown eyes lit up. I almost chuckled at the way that Michael’s did quite the opposite, kind of shut down as he inwardly groaned. If Charlene saw his expression, she chose to ignore it. “When will you have it out?”

  Johanna gave another sigh. “Tonight,” She stated firmly. I could tell that she sensed ready sells. “It may take all night since Beverly has to go home to her twins but I assure you that tomorrow morning when I open the doors, the collection will be ready for sell.”

  “Can we see a sneak peak?” Charlene asked eagerly.

  Michael stopped Charlene. “No.” He turned to Johanna. “Sorry. We have guests to check out, a menu to plan, and a grocery list to purchase.” He eyed his wife with a strong glower.

  Charlene ignored the look. But I noticed that she moved to the counter to sign the slip Beverly had set down on the countertop.

  Johanna shrugged. “I’d rather everyone be pleasantly surprised anyway.”

  Charlene passed back the signed slip. “Well, I’ll see if I can’t take the time and come over tomorrow.”

  “I’d appreciate that,” Johanna stated sweetly.

  Michael and Charlene made their way toward the door with their purchases. I went forward and propped my bag and then my elbows on the counter. I presented what I considered my finest guiltless look. Johanna looked up and frowned. Since I failed Drama in high school, it was doubtful Johanna found my expression authentic. I could see that she was debating whether she really wanted to talk in front of everyone. I was determined and she could tell. There were plenty of ears close by ready and willing to listen for any enlightening facts to explain her earlier bizarre behavior. I raised my brow and patiently waited her out.

  Johanna rolled her eyes and sighed, looked over the store and then motioned with her head. “Well, come on into the back then.” She turned to Beverly. “Keep an eye on everything. Let me know if you need me.” Johanna turned and walked through the opening into the back room, running a hand briskly through her hair.

  I hid my smile and followed her deep within the store room. Johanna has a personal desk set up near the rear. Stained dark, the mahogany writing desk has a professional look with its glossed top and inset cubby holes, but it retains a sense of taste and delicacy that speaks of well weathered age. Johanna had added a wingback done in maroon brocade set to one side. A simple captain’s chair, the seat done in matching maroon, was pulled up close. It was in this she sat, crossing her legs and placing her hands on her top knee while she threw an unyielding Butterfield glance in my direction. I recognized it well, I had seen it far too many times throughout our childhood. It was a look of willful pigheadedness. Once firmly established, a Butterfield would go up in flames before conceding they might possibly be in the wrong.

  I sighed. I had my work cut out for me. “Johanna,” I began.

  She held up a hand. “I told you, Sophie. This morning was nothing. A rare anomaly.” Johanna sighed and smoothed a hand down the front of her pants. “It won’t happen again.”

  I frowned and decided to try sound reasoning. “Look. There are already rumors starting to fly. You know how it is. This is a small town, after all. People have little enough to think about.”

  Her lips pursed and she glared. “Why can’t you just let it go?”

  I smiled grimly and ignored the question. “Think of it this way. If you tell me, at least I can help cut people short who are spreading vicious gossip.”

  Johanna’s brow furrowed and she looked thoughtful.

  “Come on, Jo. I’m your best friend,” I added in desperation. “Hey, to this day I’ve never told anyone who you kissed at the senior prom when you were supposed to be inside accepting your crown as prom queen.”

  This drew Johanna up. She nodded. “True. Because if Jane knew, I would never have heard the end of it.”

  “See.” I could see a win coming my way after all.

  “But Jane already knows something is going on,” Johanna added. “She’s going to badger you till you spill your guts.”

  Okay. Maybe win was too strong a word. I laid all my cards on the table. “You’re both my best friends. I keep all your and Jane’s secrets.”

  Johanna’s brow perked up in interest. “All our secrets. Hmmm, I hadn’t thought of that.” Her tone quickly turned mischievous. “Okay, tell me something on Jane and I’ll spill my guts.”

  Oops. Backpedal and quick. “Now, Johanna, if I told you one of Jane’s secrets, all that would prove is that I’m a bad secret keeper. I just finished telling you how I keep my friends’ secrets.”

  She leaned over and whispered with a smile, “But all I care about is that you keep my secrets.” Johanna winked. “Come on, just one. It doesn’t have to be big.” Her eyes widened. “Oh. Unless you know something big.”

  I decided that Butterfield decorum was my last resort. “Johanna Butterfield. What would your mother say?” I could have sworn that Johanna actually tensed and flicked a glance over one shoulder to see if h
er mother had suddenly morphed into the room. I smothered a giggle.

  My words had taken the wind out of her sails. Johanna leaned back and slumped in an undignified position. She let out a gush of air and lowered her head to her hands to hide her face. “It’s just so embarrassing.” Johanna glanced up. I saw a glimmer of fire through the glossy tears shimmering in her eyes. The anger in her voice grew as she continued. “That woman intends to make my family the laughing stock of the town. The Butterfield name will be dragged through the mud and the excruciating fact is there is nothing that I can do about it.”

  Johanna stood and took a pace away and back. She sat down abruptly, her hands clasping and unclasping in agitation. “I know my actions this morning were horrible.” Johanna shuddered. “I won’t even begin to imagine what my mother is going to say.”

  The fact was: Elenora Butterfield didn’t have to say anything. She had the ability to speak a multitude of things without opening her mouth. I had seen her stare a person into silence in mere seconds. I would not want to be a fly on the wall in the Butterfield residence tonight and I definitely would not want to be in Johanna’s shoes. I cleared my throat. “So, what happened?”

  She stood again. Her fingers wove and unwove together. “It was stupid. I know that. It’s just that when Patrick McGill called from his law office this morning to let us know what he had overheard, what this Rebekah Peterson had in store, I just lost it. Thomas and Peter were in a business meeting with some buyers and mother and Molly were working in the garden. I just stood there fuming and then I grabbed my car keys and left. Before I knew it I was in town. Patrick had given me a description and said he’d seen her heading over toward the shops; said he’d heard her tell Swenson something about getting something to eat and that she’d check back with him later. So I just started looking.”

  “Until you found her,” I intoned softly.

  Johanna grimaced and her features hardened. “I looked through Annie’s window and saw that woman sitting there, eating like she didn’t have a care in the world, like she wasn’t about to just casually toss a keg of dynamite into my family’s personal life.” She threw up her hands. “I just saw red. The next thing I knew, Gabe yanked me off of her.”

  “I don’t get it,” I stated in bewilderment. “What could get you so mad? What was this woman about to reveal that you felt was so hurtful?”

  Johanna lowered her head again. “It’s too humiliating,” she groaned.

  The way we were going I was going to grow old before Johanna revealed anything. The problem was, I didn’t see a way to push the issue. It was easy to see that she was troubled by the information she was fighting to reveal. I couldn’t imagine what could so trouble the Butterfields. There wasn’t much that they couldn’t keep under control with their power and influence. However my friendship must have won over her uncertainty.

  She placed a hand over her face and stated in a whisper that barely reached my ears. “Rebekah Peterson is claiming to be the illegitimate daughter of my father.”

  My mouth dropped open. The late Tom Butterfield. Rebekah thought she was his daughter and Tom, of course, was no longer alive to contradict her tale. For a moment, I just looked at Johanna, confused. I wanted to believe I had misunderstood but the miserable expression stretched across her face had me convinced otherwise.

  Whoa. I took a deep breath. I blinked as the truth hit me. This I hadn’t seen coming. No one had. Now I could understand Johanna’s emotional upheaval. This information, once out, would turn the Butterfield world upside down and have far reaching consequences. I blinked again and tried to get my thoughts under control. “What? When? How?”

  Johanna straightened and turned to the desk. Her control nature took over and she slowly began to stack receipts in order. It must have soothed her because her voice was calm when she spoke. “Her mother, Cindy Peterson, used to work for us. Rebekah is claiming that my father and her mother had an affair while she was in our employment. Rebekah claims that when her mother discovered she was pregnant, Cindy up and moved away.”

  Without realizing it, I found that I was perched on the edge of my seat. I forced myself to relax and lean back. “But if Tom was the father,” I questioned, “Why didn’t she stay around and say so?”

  Her lips compressed at my words but Johanna answered. “Rebekah’s claiming that her mother left under duress; that she was run out of town. She says that she has evidence to support this.”

  I tried to understand this revelation. This was big news. There have always been people in Merry Hill who would like to see the Butterfields taken down a peg or two. It looked like they might get their wish. Poor Johanna. This had to be eating her alive. I knew her and her father had a close relationship. I tried to be reassuring. “You still don’t know if she’s telling the truth until this so called evidence is brought forward.”

  “Of course she’s not telling the truth,” Johanna snapped. “My father was not that kind of man. But just the taint of it is going to hurt my family. I don’t want to wait until the evidence is brought forward. Can you imagine what this will do to my mother?” She lowered her head into her hand in misery. Suddenly, Johanna looked up at me with thoughtful consideration, “What are the chances that Rebekah Peterson might get hit by a train before the afternoon is over and the lies die with her?”

  My glance was rueful. “Merry Hill doesn’t have a train, Jo.” I tried to be practical. “And besides, do you truly really wish harm to come to this woman? Can’t you just look at her sadly? From what you’ve said, she’s deluded about the facts.”

  “Feel sorry for her?” Johanna looked stunned. “This vulture arrives in town, ready to destroy my family and you think I should feel sorry for her?”

  “According to you, she has no concrete and reliable information on which to base her claims. If you and your family treat her as insignificant, the stink of this will drift away quickly. In a couple of months, who will remember her name?”

  “I will,” Johanna ground out. “And I do mean what I say. I wouldn’t feel sorry at all if Ms. Rebekah Peterson were to have a sudden and premature accident. Talk about timely.”

  “Johanna,” I said, aghast. I stood, angry for the first time. “You don’t mean it.”

  “Am I interrupting?” A voice asked quietly.

  I saw Johanna’s face turn a light shade of pink before I turned. Marissa Sutherland stood in the hallway just outside the door leading to the outer shop.

  Johanna took a step forward, pasting a bright smile across her face. “Marissa. How can I help you?” There was a touch of irritation that she quickly flexed out of her tone.

  Marissa appeared unperturbed. I realized that she probably hadn’t even heard our conversation. “I was going to ask Beverly but she’s already helping one person and several more are waiting. I was wondering if you still had any more of the gray and white patterned throws that I saw in the window last month. I didn’t see any this morning.”

  Johanna looked thoughtful. “You know, I believe I still have a few packed. With the spring editions arriving, I wasn’t certain if I’d want to set any more of the throws out for sell.” Johanna looked around the room before settling her eyes on one wall. “I’ll bring out what I have left for you to look over.”

  Marissa smiled brightly. “I’d love to see them. I’ll wait out front.” I watched the tall brunette move quietly back down the hall toward the front.

  Johanna was all business as she walked over to two boxes and it appeared our discussion was over. She leaned over and opened one box and looked inside before closing the lid. She opened the next. “Here they are.” Johanna looked up at me, preoccupied. “Look, I need to check up on everything out there. It looks like business has picked up even more. Is there any way you can come by later so that we might finish our conversation?”

  Johanna’s words intrigued me but I could see that her mind was already back to waiting customers. Whatever else she had to say would have to wait. I looked at my watch. “Sure.
It’ll probably be late this evening. There are several things I have to do at the shop. I can stop by on my way home.”

  “What about the twins?” Johanna asked, her voice muffled by her bent head.

  She’s talking about my seven year old twins, Simon and Steven. “They’re going home with Paige. She’s watching them tonight till I get home.”

  Johanna looked up and smiled. “What’s a big sister for?” Her head disappeared downward once more.

  I grinned. “There are times Paige might disagree. She’s a good sport but I’ve learned my fourteen year old daughter has other designs on how to spend an entertaining evening.” I shrugged. “I just tell her that it’s good on the job training; helps her on her babysitter gigs.”

  Johanna raised her head back up with a quirked grin. “That work?”

  I laughed softly. “She hasn’t balked yet.”

  “That just shows good breeding.” Johanna pulled out throws in several colors. She cradled them in her arms and leaned back against the box. “I have to set out the spring collection anyway,” Johanna stated with a shrug. “I’ll probably be here most of the night.” She turned and made her way toward the front. “Just come by whenever.”

  Marissa was waiting right beside the entrance. Johanna moved to a clear space on side counter and draped the cloth so that the varying colors revealed themselves. I watched as Marissa began to sift through the pile.

  I turned and followed Johanna out into the chaos. And bedlam it most definitely was. Southern Comfort had become town central. I watched Johanna blink and then a smile stretch itself across her face. She was in her element as she made her way through the crowd; offering comments and directing customers to selected finds. I maneuvered my own path to the door, then turned and gave a wave I’m not certain Johanna saw. I shrugged. It looked like the day might prove fruitful after all.