Invitation to Murder (Book 1 in the Candlemaking Mysteries)

by Tim Myers

  Chapter 6

  When I got to the card shop the next morning, I half expected Lillian to be waiting for me on the front stoop, but there was no sign of my aunt as I unlocked the door and prepared to get ready for a new day. I thought about calling her at home, but with Lillian, the only thing that was predictable was her eccentric behavior.

  I was pleasantly surprised when a woman came in precisely at ten o’clock. She had the most lustrous natural red hair—nothing like the sharp henna of my aunt’s dye job—and a figure that made me wish for just a second that I’d skipped dessert for the last six or seven years. “May I help you?”

  “Oh, I’m just, looking around,” she said in a soft and wispy voice. “I absolutely adore your store, but I don’t recall ever seeing it here before. How long have you been open?”

  “We’ve been in business about a week,” I said.

  “Well, that explains that. So tell me, what’s the easiest card there is to make?”

  I grabbed a piece of scrap stock six inches square and handed it to her. “There you go. I’ve got envelopes that match it, too.” Well, they were close enough.

  She laughed. “My, aren’t you the underachiever?”

  “Darlin’, if you’re going to stay open another week, you’re going to have to push a little harder than that.”

  I couldn’t help myself; my returning smile came on without warning. “You’re right, aren’t you?” I fetched a gift box with linen paper and heavily lined envelopes that were a perfect match. “These are nice.”

  She took them from me, flipped the box over and saw the price, then smiled in earnest. “Now that’s more like it.” She waved a hand at the selection of cards up front. “Do you actually make these yourself?”

  “Absolutely, and you can, too. It’s really quite easy. Would you like to see how?”

  She looked tempted; then she glanced at her watch. “How about a rain check? I promised my husband I’d be back in time to go on a hike. I just love this area; it’s so charming.”

  “On behalf of the chamber of commerce and the town of Rebel Forge, I thank you.”

  I rang up the card set and was walking my customer out the door when a stern woman wearing an oversized black coat walked in. From the way her gaze darted around my shop, I suspected she was about to rob me. “Are you sure you can’t stay for that free lesson?” I asked the redhead.

  “Sorry, but I will be back. I promise.”

  And then I was alone in my shop with a woman who looked like she was up to no good.

  “May I help you with anything?” I asked, half expecting her to pull a shotgun out of her jacket and start shooting.

  “No, I’m perfectly capable of helping myself.”

  As she browsed through the shop, picking up an item occasionally as she went along, I kept hoping that Lillian would show up. At that moment, I would have welcomed Bradford or even Sara Lynn; any warm body to act as a backup or a witness would do. The woman kept glancing toward the front door as if she was waiting for someone else to show up. After a few minutes, she walked toward me with a determined look in her eyes. This was it. I was about to experience my first robbery.

  I was bracing myself for the assault when she asked, “Do you have any baskets? There’s quite a bit I need.”

  I couldn’t hide my relief. “Absolutely. They’re right here. Let me grab you one.”

  She took it from me, then said, “You should move these over by the door so people can get them when they come in.” The woman moved to the scissors and picked up one of my most expensive pairs. “These are nice. I’ve only seen them in catalogs before.”

  “Are you a card maker?” I asked.

  “I used to be a scrapbooker, but I ran out of scrap.” She chuckled at her own joke, a sound that resembled a serrated knife cutting through a rusty nail.

  “You’d be surprised how many people do both,” I said.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me a bit. Got to do something with all that stuff left over. Why not make cards?”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

  She made her way to my paper selection. She picked up one of my newest creations. “Some of this is custom, isn’t it?”

  “I make it myself,” I said proudly.

  “You use too much glitter. Paper’s to use, not to show off.”

  I picked up a piece of drab gray. “You can always use this, if you’d prefer.”

  She shook her head. “If I want stock made from newspaper, I’ll make my own. This is nice, though.” She picked up a sample of a maroon paper I’d been playing with. I’d pressed it on a different rack to yield an unusual texture. It was tough to write on—I’d learned that early on—but it was wonderful for pasting and cutouts. As she added a nice selection to her basket, the front door chimed and another woman walked in. In her late fifties, she wore a crisp linen suit and had a dragonfly pin on her lapel with what looked suspiciously like real diamonds for eyes. Her silver hair was long and carefully layered, and I knew the cut had cost more than the dress I was wearing. I couldn’t believe it; I had two customers in my store at the same time, a record for me. If she’d just come in to use the telephone, I was going to cry. I wouldn’t survive if my customers kept coming in single file.

  I was torn between helping the woman who was buying lots of stock or the new customer when my original shopper said, “Go on, I’m fine right here.”

  I nodded, then approached the new customer. “May I help you?”

  “Are you the owner?”

  “I am,” I admitted. “My name is Jennifer.”

  “I’m Melinda Spencer. I was hoping to get a private lesson on card making from you. You do that sort of thing, don’t you?”

  “Of course,” I said, willing to do just about anything to make another sale at that point. “What kind of card would you like to make?”

  “Oh, I don’t mean right now. I would like to set up an appointment after hours when I can have your undivided attention. Are you free tonight?”

  “Absolutely. Why don’t we make it seven o’clock?”

  “That would be perfect.” Melinda looked at the woman in the black coat for a moment, then said, “I’ll see you at seven, then.”

  After she was gone, my first customer said, “The world’s full of dilettantes, isn’t it?”

  “Hey, I’m happy for all the customers I can get.”

  The woman looked around some more, then said, “Okay, that should do it for now.”

  As I followed her to the register and started ringing up her purchases, she said, “Now that’s interesting.”

  I followed her glance to the poster I’d put up for the Crafty Cut-Ups Club I’d been hoping to sponsor. “When does it meet?”

  “It’s going to be every Thursday, but I need three members before I can start.”

  The woman nodded. “That sounds great. I’ll bring Betty and Dot with me. They’re old scrapbookers, too. Not that they’re old, though they are, but they’ve both been doing it a long time. I’m Hilda, by the way.”

  I took her extended hand, not surprised at all by the strong grip. “I’m Jennifer,” I said. Here I thought this woman had shown up to rob me and she might just turn out to be the best thing that had happened to me since I’d opened my doors.

  After she paid for her purchases, Hilda said, “I’ll call them as soon as I get home. We’ll see you might.”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “I won’t be able to start until next Thursday.”

  She nodded. “That’s probably better, anyway. Knowing those two, they’re probably already booked or tonight. We’ll clear our schedules for next week, though.”

  “I’m looking forward to it,” I said as I handed her he bag and her change. As she was walking out, Lillian came in.

  Before I could say a word, my aunt said, “Jennifer, I’m so sorry I’m late. I see we had a customer already.”

  “We’ve had three,” I said a little too stiffly. “Dear, I said I was sorry. I was up late talk
ing with Hiram. That was the gentleman with me when you visited yesterday.”

  “Please, spare me the details of your love life, Lillian,” I said gently. That was the last thing I wanted to hear, especially since I didn’t have one at the moment. I had to admit, I’d spent more than a little time niggling to get to sleep regretting the abrupt no I’d given Wayne. I knew I was still right in theory, but a principle was tough to snuggle up to at night. “I told you it wasn’t like that at all,” Lillian said. I’ve decided to move on and see other people.”

  “And you both decided that?” I asked her pointedly.

  “Well, I admit the idea was mine at first, but eventually he came around to my point of view. It did taker quite a bit longer than I expected it to, though. That’s why I’m so late.” She hugged me, then said, “Two single women searching for romance, that’s us.”

  “That’s you,” I corrected her gently. “I’m just looking for more customers.”

  “Then perhaps we’ll both find what we’re looking for.”

  I was getting hungry and starting to think about taking my lunch break when the front door opened. Mrs. Albright—the woman who had commissioned the wedding announcements for her daughter—came into the shop. She looked flustered and harried, and I couldn’t imagine what was wrong this time.

  “Mrs. Albright, are you ready to make some decisions about the wedding invitations?”

  “I’m not at all certain there’s even going to be a wedding at this point,” she said, surprising us both with her candor. “That’s why I came to see you.”

  “Hold on one second.” I turned to my aunt. “Lillian, why don’t you go ahead and take your lunch break.”

  “I’m not all that hungry,” she said, watching the mother of the bride with a gleam in her eye.

  “Still, I think that this would be a good time for you to take your break.”

  Lillian reluctantly agreed, though she frowned at me with great displeasure as she nodded her acceptance. “I’ll be back in ten minutes,” she said, daring me to try to keep her away any longer than that

  After my aunt was gone, I asked Mrs. Albright, “Have they decided not to marry after all?”

  “Oh, they’re getting married.” She looked around the deserted shop and asked, “Ms. Sheen, may I speak candidly with you?”

  “Of course,” I said, ignoring the fact that she’d butchered my last name. “And it’s Jennifer. I assure you, I’m very discreet.” It was true, too. I’d always taken secrets shared with me very seriously ever since Vinola Ridge had blabbed about my crush on Kyle Day to him when we’d all been in the seventh grade. Kyle had laughed in her face and then he’d done the same thing to me. I still felt a twinge whenever I thought about that particular day. Since then, I’d been careful about who I shared secrets with, and promised myself to keep any confidences entrusted to me.

  “Jennifer, my daughter is under a bit of a deadline to hold the wedding in a timely fashion. After all, a gown can only cover so much.” She hesitated, then added, “There are other considerations, as well.”

  So Anne Albright was going to be a grandmother, and from the expression on her face, it was coming a lot sooner than she’d hoped. “You can count on me. I can have the invitations done in a week. In fact, I’ll work all weekend to make sure you have them as soon as humanly possible.”

  “My dear, I wasn’t goading you into action. At least neither one of them has cold feet, though I’d have been wearing thermal socks if I were in their situation. No, I’m afraid it’s more complicated than that.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help, anything at all?”

  “I don’t see how. I’m afraid Donna’s maid of honor has met with an unfortunate accident. Jennifer, are you all right?”

  I was many things at the moment, but “all right” was not anywhere on the list. I felt my stomach lurch, and I was glad I hadn’t had a chance to eat anything yet. A great many things were falling into place, and lone of them were good.

  “You’re talking about Tina Mast, aren’t you?”

  Mrs. Albright looked at me as if I’d slapped her. How in the world did you ever know that?”

  “My brother’s the sheriff in Rebel Forge.” I debated telling her that Tina had called me just before she’d died, but it was something I decided to keep to myself. “I’m curious. Did your daughter plan to Cornell with you to the shop originally when you visited me the first time?”

  “My dear, you must be absolutely psychic.” frowned, then added, “Donna was going to accompany me, but she changed her mind at the last minute. To be honest with you, we had a bit of a tiff, and she canceled in a huff. Something was going on between my daughter and Tina, and Donna was going to try to patch things up with her. She feels horrible about, what happened, losing her best friend before they had: a chance to make up. It’s dreadful, really. But how could you possibly know about that?”

  I couldn’t lie to the woman outright, but I could shade the truth a little. “I just can’t imagine a woman not choosing her own wedding invitations.”

  The explanation appeared to appease her. “Of course, that makes perfect sense. I’m doing my utmost to persuade Donna to go ahead with the wedding as quickly as possible, but I’m afraid she’s fighting me on it. I understand her reluctance to celebrate a marriage with her friend dying so tragically, but as I keep telling her, we’ll be celebrating another blessed event if we don’t move quickly on this. Jennifer, how much time do you need to make up the invitations? Can you really do it in a week?”

  “Do you still need four hundred?”

  “No, I’m afraid we’re going to have to pare that list considerably. I believe one hundred will be more than enough.

  I tried not to let my disappointment show, since I’d been counting on a much larger check than I was going to get, but at least I was starting to get some walk-in business to supplement my income. “I can have them ready for you in four days,” I said, hoping I wasn’t stretching myself too thin. I’d never made cards in such massive quantities before, just doing a few now and then as the mood moved me. But this was my business now, my livelihood, so fun wasn’t the primary consideration.

  “That would work nicely.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her purse. “Here, I’ve drawn up what I’m looking for. We can use the paper you showed me earlier, or anything you believe will look nice. You know my tastes. Can you really have these ready by next Monday?”

  “I can, but I thought Donna wasn’t sure about going ahead with it,” I said as I took the notepaper from her. The first thing that caught my attention was that the wedding date was just eighteen days away. That didn’t leave anybody involved in the festivities much time.

  “She’s not now, but she will be. I’ll see to that.”

  I had visions of being left with a hundred handmade invitations that I couldn’t use. “I’ll need the balance before I begin,” I said, trying to keep my voice level. “It’s store policy.” Well, it was now.

  Mrs. Albright didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Of course. Let me write you a check. Since I will be requiring fewer cards, I expect a discount.”

  “Of course,” I said. “But you have to remember, the supplies are just a fraction of the total expense, you’re paying for a creative design, and that’s true whether you order a single card or a thousand.”

  “Yes, I understand that,” she said.

  “I can take ten percent off the total,” I said, holding my breath, hoping she’d go for it.

  As Mrs. Albright paid the balance, she asked, “Can you think of a unique place that would be suitable for le wedding? We’re going to present this as a spur-of-the-moment lark to our friends. The real reason is that by the time we set something up formally, I’m afraid my grandchild would be able to be a guest at her parents’ own wedding, and I will not allow that happen.”

  I didn’t doubt that for one instant. Mrs. Albright was a force to be reckoned with, and I said a silent prayer for the groom. It would be bad enough
to be raised under the woman’s iron fist, but marrying into that family might be even worse. I had a feeling he was going to have the prototype for the origin mother-in-law who had inspired all those jokes and terror.

  She pressed me. “Do you know of such a place?

  “Are you looking for a church?”

  Mrs. Albright scoffed. “There will be no church wedding, not under these circumstances. That’s where I draw the line. Besides, they’ve been done to death Never mind, I shouldn’t have bothered asking you.”

  Probably not, I thought as I jotted a few ideas down on the back of a flier for the shop. I named a jutting point of land that overlooked the lake, in case the couple wanted an outdoor ceremony, and a topiary garden that I always thought would be perfect for weddings. I briefly considered adding the Putt Putt Palace to the list, but I knew better than to turn her scorn onto me. “You could always try these two places,” I said as I handed her my thoughts.

  “I appreciate your help, Jennifer. I’m counting on you to get those invitations done in time.”

  I glanced at the date she’d selected, and wondered how on earth she expected people to respond in time. A thought suddenly occurred to me. “We need to do RSVP cards, too. Do you have any ideas about that?”

  “My dear, they can come or not; it’s entirely up to them. Trust me, this will be fine.”

  I wondered if she had any intention of anyone showing up for her daughter’s proud moment, but then I realized that could be the point. The invitations would announce the wedding to her friends without requiring them to attend. I had a hunch they were being issued for the presents that would surely follow as much as for legitimizing the ceremony and explaining the happy, healthy, “premature” baby that was sure to arrive in six or seven months.

  “I’ll get right on them,” I said. “When would you like to see the first card so I can get your approval?”

  “I don’t have time for that,” Mrs. Albright said. “I trust you’ll do a good job.”