Twenty minutes after I opened the shop, I heard what sounded like a flock of grackles outside my door. When I peeked outside, I saw twenty-five or thirty grade-schoolers heading my way, led by a young blonde with a look of sheer exasperation on her face. I knew I had to stop the horde from pillaging my place, so I walked outside, putting myself between them and Fire at Will.
Before I could say a word, the woman leading them said, “Hi, I know I didn’t call ahead, but I promised them a field trip, and the bowling alley isn’t open, even though I called them yesterday, and one of the children threw up on the school bus and our parent chaperone Mrs. Beasley had to take her back to school, so I’ve got all these kids and I can’t bear to disappoint them. I’m Emma Blackshire. I’m new.”
I don’t know how she managed to get all that out without taking a breath or a break, but she did. There was no way I could handle this crowd without help, and there were no reinforcements I could call on. I was about to turn her away when I spied one of the little boys, a towhead who looked just like my son Timothy when he was that age. The poor sweet child looked as though he were ready to burst into tears, and my heart melted.
“Bring them in,” I said, and the young boy smiled. I was going to picture that expression all day. It was the only thing that was going to get me through what I knew was about to happen.
That, or a shot of bourbon, though I doubted Miss Blackshire would approve. Then again, based on her agitated state, she might just join me.
I managed to round up enough of the small bisque fired saucers we used for school groups, and the kids seemed to have a good time, though they did wreck the place as only a class of grade-schoolers could. After they were gone, I stacked two of the kilns and started firing their works. Once that was done, I was scrubbing down the tables when the front door opened. Not another student group, I prayed under my breath.
The second I saw who it was, I found myself wishing for the entire student body of the elementary school instead.
It was the sheriff, John Hodges, and I could see by the way he was looking at me this wasn’t going to be pleasant conversation for either one of us.
“Come to paint some pottery, Sheriff?” I asked in the sweetest voice I could muster. If he could tell I was being sarcastic, he didn’t show it.
“You’re kidding, right?” he said. “I’m here about Betty Wickline.”
“Give me a second. I need to turn off the lights and lock the door.”
That stumped him. “What are you talking about, Carolyn?”
“I assume you’ve decided to dispense with an actual investigation and go ahead and arrest me. David’s not coming in today, and I’d rather not leave the shop door standing wide open while you haul me off in the back of your squad car.”
That made him mad—probably not the best tack I could have taken, but I resented even being on his suspect list. Honestly, I was probably the only one on it, knowing the sheriff’s dislike for actual work.
“I’m not here to arrest you,” he shouted.
“There’s no need to yell. I can hear perfectly fine. If you aren’t going to handcuff me, then why are you here?”
“Just because I’m not planning to arrest you this second doesn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you about what happened here. I need that list of people who have keys to your shop.”
I’d nearly forgotten all about it. “It’s in my purse. Let me get it.” Still smarting from his tone of voice, I handed him my purse. “You’d better retrieve it yourself. You never know, I might have a gun stashed in there somewhere.”
He looked at the offered purse like it was a snake. “I’m not fool enough to go diving into a woman’s purse without more reason than you’ve given me. At least not yet.”
I retrieved the list, with no more names added to it than I’d shared with Hannah, and handed it to him.
He studied it a second, then said, “I’ll look into this.”
“There’s something else you should know,” I added reluctantly.
“Well, don’t make me pull it out of you. What is it?”
“There’s a chance that I might have left the front door unlocked when I left the day of the murder. It’s happened a few times before. Anyway, I thought you should know.”
“And you’re telling me this now?” He glanced down at the list. “That makes this pretty much worthless, doesn’t it?”
“I’m not saying that I did leave the door unlocked. I just thought you should know it was a possibility. Oh, there’s something else I should probably tell you. Robert Owens is on your list, and he’s been out of town since before the murder. He went back to North Carolina three days ago to get the rest of his stuff. He’s just moved to Maple Ridge.”
“I’ll check him out. Since I’m already here, I’d like to ask you a few more questions, if you don’t mind.” I hated orders that sounded like requests.
“Do I have any choice?”
“Don’t be that way, Carolyn.”
“Fine, ask away.”
He looked at me a second before he proceeded. “There’s no easy way to ask this. When was the last time you saw Betty alive?”
“I told you that the night I found her body.”
“Tell me again.” His gaze never left me.
“She came into the shop that afternoon. We talked for a few minutes, then she left.”
He raised one eyebrow. “What did you talk about?”
“Who remembers? It wasn’t all that significant. Something about a firing, I think.”
“Are you sure you weren’t having an argument?” He was being much too smug for my tastes.
“Why? What have you heard?”
The sheriff shrugged. “I understand it wasn’t so much of a conversation as it was a fight.”
That was all I could take. “Where did you hear that? Tell me who it was.”
He backed up a step. “It was an anonymous tip, but the whispered voice sounded like she knew what she was talking about.”
“Then your heroic witness is full of hot air. Nobody was in the shop when Betty was here. Not even David.”
Hodges looked at me a long time before he spoke. “Just because you say it, that doesn’t make it so.”
“Nor should you take the word of some coward with a telephone over mine. We’ve known each other a long time, John. Do you honestly think I’m capable of murder?”
He took much too long to answer to suit my tastes. “You’ve always had a sharp tongue, Carolyn, and Betty managed to bring out the worst in folks. I can’t rule anything out yet.”
“Well, until you do, perhaps you should start looking for the real killer instead of wasting your time with me. Now if you’re not going to lock me up, I suggest you leave so I can go about my shop’s business.”
He nodded and headed toward the door, but before he left, the sheriff turned to me and said, “You’re not planning any trips out of Maple Ridge anytime soon, are you?”
“Why do you ask?” Did he honestly think I was capable of murder? Or that even if I was, I’d actually flee the area? Honestly, where would I go? I’d lived here all my life.
“I’d just rather have you around in case I come up with any more questions for you.”
“I’ll be here,” I said. I couldn’t believe the sheriff actually thought I’d had something to do with Betty’s death. He’d known me forever. But if he could believe it, other people might, too. I was going to have to do something to clear my name. There was no way I’d be able to live in Maple Ridge with the whispers and the speculation. If Sheriff Hodges wasn’t going to help me, I was going to have to do it myself.
Chapter 3
I was so rattled after the sheriff left that it took a good half hour for me to settle back down. I’d pick something up, then forget why I had it in my hands. It would have been nice to have David back, but after my conversation with Hannah, I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see my assistant again. I could manage to run Fire at Will by myself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as
much fun, and I could kiss lunches out goodbye forever. My friend Shelly ran her own diner, appropriately named Shelly’s Café, but I knew our relationship didn’t extend to her bringing me my lunch every day.
I remembered to check the hand-built coiled pottery pots the Firing Squad had made the night before, and suddenly realized that I had forgotten all about the kilns’ earlier erratic behavior. What would I find when I opened them? Everything appeared to be fine as I took out each of the pieces and examined them in turn. Maybe the night Betty had died had been a single glitch and not the start of something worse. At least something appeared to be going right for me.
Customers were pretty sparse the rest of the morning. Okay, that’s not entirely true. There would have to have been at least one customer for me to be able to call it sparse, and I hadn’t had anyone else come in after the school kids. When the door chimed later in the day, I nearly leapt forward, eager to have some company, any company at all.
It was Butch. He took in the deserted shop. “Kind of empty, isn’t it?”
“You’re here between lulls,” I said.
“How long has the last lull been?” he asked.
I thought about lying to him, but Butch had been a crook long enough to spot my weak attempts at deception. “Pretty much since Betty died,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Don’t worry, Carolyn, we’ll fix this. I’ve got some stuff on the woman that might help.”
“Like what?” I asked. Sheriff Hodges had shaken me more than I was willing to admit. I needed to find the killer myself if he was going to focus solely on me.
“Her ex wasn’t too keen on her, that’s for sure. That guy was paying alimony out the wazoo.”
“You didn’t rough him up, did you?” The last thing I wanted was to get one of my favorite customers and a member of the Firing Squad in trouble.
He laughed at my suggestion. “Naw, not Larry. He wouldn’t be worth the effort. I tracked him down at Twilly’s Bar last night and bought him a few drinks. I swear, that’s all that happened.”
“Does he have an alibi for the night she was murdered?”
Butch looked a little sheepish as he admitted, “To tell you the truth, he got drunk too fast for me to ask him about that. That guy shouldn’t go to bars if he can’t hold his liquor better than he was managing when I left.”
The telephone rang, and I reached for it. “Hang on one second,” I told Butch before I answered, “Fire at Will.”
“Carolyn, this is Sandy. Have you got a minute? I might have something for you.”
“Hang on a second, Sandy.” I covered the phone with my hand. “Butch, Sandy’s on the line. Was there anything else?”
He shook his head. “No, not yet. Don’t worry, though. I’ll come up with something.”
“Don’t try too hard, if you know what I mean.”
He chuckled. “Now that all depends on how reluctant the folks I talk to are about having a conversation with me. Don’t you worry about me.”
He wasn’t the one I was worried about, but before I could add any more admonitions, Butch was gone.
“Sorry about that. I’m back,” I told Sandy.
“That’s fine. I’ve been doing some digging on the Internet and I’ve come up with a few things on Betty. Did you know she was getting a huge alimony check every month from her ex-husband? That might be enough of a motive for murder.”
“Butch already told me that. But how did you find out so quickly?”
“Public records for our county are online. How about this, then? You know how Betty liked to flaunt her nice things around town?”
I knew it only too well. She always had to have the latest model car and wear all the newest fashions. Her superior attitude toward the rest of us commoners had been one of the things I’d disliked so much about her. “She could be too much to take sometimes, couldn’t she?”
“Well, it turns out she wasn’t nearly as well off as she wanted everyone to think. Betty was living way beyond her income. All she had was alimony, and while it probably felt like gouging to her husband, she had to live entirely off of it, since she didn’t have any other income. The thing is, she never seemed to be short on cash, and I can’t find out where the rest of her money came from.”
“Perhaps she inherited it,” I said.
“No, I checked her parents’ wills, and there wasn’t much left after their funeral expenses were paid off.”
“Now how on earth did you discover that?” It amazed me how much Sandy had been able to find out in such a short period of time without ever leaving the library.
“Please, it’s simple if you know where to look. Wills are a matter of public record, and so are final dispositions. Give me something hard.”
“So where was she getting her money?”
“I wish I could tell you,” Sandy said. “From what I can see so far, I’m having a hard time believing it’s from a legitimate source. At least not one I’ve been able to track down. Don’t worry, though. I’ll keep digging.”
“I’m amazed how much you’ve been able to find out so far.”
“Believe me, with the Internet, there aren’t nearly as many secrets as there once were.”
That was a scary thought, one I wasn’t all that eager to contemplate.
I wondered if any of the rest of my crew would check in. No doubt Martha had her hands full with her lively brood, but I knew she’d have the best chance of uncovering something about Betty’s life that might be useful. The Mommy network was amazing in our small town. Martha had connections, through her children, to the most diverse group of people. It might take her some time to come up with something, but if she did, I was sure it would be gold. Jenna could help from the legal end of our impromptu investigation, but she had an ethical streak in her that might hinder her effectiveness in aiding me. Still, if Betty had ever been involved in the criminal justice system, Jenna would know it.
To my surprise and great delight, David walked into the shop a little after one. “Hey, stranger, I wasn’t sure I’d see you today.”
He looked sheepish. “Sorry about that. You know how Mom can get.”
“Don’t do that. You know I’m a big fan of your mother’s.”
He nodded. “I know. I swear, sometimes I think you two are ganging up on me.”
“Would we do that?” I tried to keep the laughter out of my voice, but it was impossible.
He laughed right along with me.
A moment later, I asked, “So, was it a full pardon, are you out for good behavior, or are you going to be on parole for a while?”
“Mom made sure there was no doubt in my mind about it. It’s parole. Definitely. If I miss another class, I won’t be able to come in for a week.”
“Then I sincerely hope you go to class.”
He grinned. “Even if you have to drag me there yourself, huh?”
I refused to match his smile. “No, I’m not going to get involved. This is between your mother and you.” Then I patted his shoulder. “But I will say it’s good to have you back.”
“Thanks. I’ve been gone less than a day, and I already feel like it’s been a month.” He glanced around the shop. “Has it been this quiet all day? Maybe I should have stayed away to save you from paying my salary.”
“Things will never get that tight,” I said, though if the current trend kept up, I wouldn’t be able to promise that forever. We needed customers in Fire at Will, and not just for their money. The business was a living entity, and it needed to be fed on a regular basis with laughter and fun as well as dollars and cents.
He nodded. “Thanks, I appreciate that. Listen, if you want to take a late lunch, I’ve got this covered.”
“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day,” I said as I took off my Fire at Will apron. It was fire-engine red; one of my customers had made it especially for me. I’d protested that it was too nice to get muddied with clay, and she’d responded by making me three more. Since the extent of my sewing skill was limited to
an errant button replacement now and then, I’d gladly accepted them, then had waived her bill for the month. I’d been trying to get David to wear one, but he’d resisted my attempts so far, opting for a potter’s brown apron instead. The only thing I envied about his apron was that it didn’t show stains.
“I think I’ll take a walk and grab a bite,” I said. “Just let me wash up.”
I left the shop, determined to enjoy as much as I could of the nice day. Though it was April, there was still a nice nip in the air. The weatherman had threatened us with snow showers later in the week, but at the moment, the temperature was hovering in the lower fifties. The majority of the skiers had left the nearby Green Mountains, and it was too soon for our summer tourists. While I missed the revenues the other seasons brought, I didn’t miss the crowds. I decided to walk on the sidewalk by the brook, which turned out to be a mistake, something I knew the second I heard Kendra calling my name. The woman was getting to be an absolute pest, and it was time to set her straight.
“Carolyn, there’s something you should know,” Kendra said as I neared her shop. “The police have been here.”
“Have you been selling fake antiques again?” I said, not caring about her wince.
“I told you, and everyone else who would listen, my supplier gave me a phony certificate of authenticity. I refunded that man’s money, didn’t I? What else could I do?”
“You could have been more careful about who you bought your store stock from.”
I was about to say something else when she cut me off. “The police weren’t here about me. They were asking questions about you. I thought you should know.”
So the sheriff was serious about coming after me. I’d been hoping he had just been posturing until he stumbled across the real killer, but evidently that hope was for naught. “What did he want to know? More importantly, what did you tell him?” Knowing Kendra, I wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d claimed to be a witness to the murder to get a little attention.
“I had to tell the truth, didn’t I?” Now why did she suddenly look so guilty?
A Murderous Glaze Page 4