Road Trip

by Jan Fields

  Annie set the phone on the side table with a yawn and said another lengthy prayer for her family and her friends. Finally she could barely keep her eyes open, so she headed off to bed.

  She awoke the next morning to the sound of the room phone. She rolled over and fumbled for it, knocking the receiver on the floor. She leaned over the side of the bed, blinking in the dim light and finally grabbed it.

  “Hello? Mrs. Dawson, hello?” the voice on the receiver called just as she put it to her ear.

  “Yes, hello. I’m Mrs. Dawson.”

  “Oh, good morning. I’m Helen Grace,” the cheery voice said. “I’m the convention secretary. I called to let you know that we’ll need you for this morning’s meeting. Kate Stevens’s entry in the fashion contest is one of the final three.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful!” Annie said, excitement chasing some of the cobwebs out of her head. “I’m so happy for Kate.”

  “Yes,” the cheery voice agreed. Then the woman explained exactly what they wanted Annie to do. Both Annie and Kate would be on stage as the dress was presented to the judge, and Kate would describe it herself. Then Annie would walk to the judges’ table so they could examine the dress closely.

  “That sounds easy enough,” Annie said. “I’ll be there.”

  The cheerful woman hung up, and Annie hopped out of bed to start the morning with a quick shower. She couldn’t wait to see Kate’s face.

  But when she saw Kate’s face at the breakfast table, Annie found it a little pale. “Are you feeling OK?” she asked.

  “Just nervous,” Kate said. “I never expected to have to talk. It was bad enough thinking about standing and having everyone staring at me.”

  “You’ll do fine,” Mary Beth said, giving Kate’s hand a squeeze. “Just write down the description of the dress and any thoughts on how you designed it. I’ll help you go over it. Then you can just read it.”

  Kate nodded, and then she looked panicky again. “I don’t have any paper.”

  Stella pulled out a small notebook and thrust it across the table. “I always carry a notebook to these conventions,” she said, “so I can write down snippets I learn.”

  Kate nodded, her eyes still looking round and dark against her pale skin. Annie smiled at her friend. The convention had been hard on Kate on several levels, she knew. It had definitely pulled her out of her comfort zone. Annie knew sometimes that could be a really good thing, but it was usually difficult as well.

  As Kate and Mary Beth put their heads together to talk about the dress, Annie turned her attention to her muffin and yogurt. She absently stirred the fresh fruit sprinkled on top into the creamy white of the yogurt.

  “You look far away this morning,” Stella said. “Don’t tell me you’re fretting about the fashion show too?”

  “Not so much,” Annie said. “I got over most of those nerves last night. No, I’m just worried about my daughter and her family.”

  “Oh? Did something happen?” Stella asked. Annie noticed that even Kate and Mary Beth had looked up with concern at her remark.

  “Oh, they’ll all be fine,” Annie said. “But Joanna passed her stomach bug on to her dad and brother. I don’t know if they’ll all make it to hear Gram honored tomorrow.”

  “How is Joanna feeling?” Mary Beth asked.

  “LeeAnn said she’s much better,” Annie said. “Holding down food and everything.”

  “So it’s a quick bug, at least,” Mary Beth said. “You know LeeAnn will be here if it’s at all possible.”

  “I know,” Annie said, and then she smiled. “I just need to let it go.”

  Her friends agreed, and as Mary Beth and Kate bent back over the notebook, Stella cleared her throat and said, “I have been thinking about the murder.”

  “No,” Mary Beth said, her eyes fierce. “This morning is for Kate’s triumph. We’ll save the sleuthing for after lunch.”

  Stella bristled, sitting stiffly in her chair with her lips pressed tightly together. Then Kate reached out and touched her hand. “It’s OK,” she said. “We can talk a little about it if you want. Annie managed to mostly convince me I’m not about to be arrested.” She gave a little self-deprecating laugh, though a weak one.

  Stella’s look softened. “No, Mary Beth is right. I was being thoughtless. We’ll talk after this morning’s events.”

  Annie shifted restlessly in her seat as she remembered her conversation with Cat and her brother. The excitement of Kate’s making the final three in the fashion show, along with her own worries about her family, had pushed the news about Edgar Harvester completely out of her head. “When we do talk about it, later,” she said quietly, “I have something to tell you.”

  They all looked at her curiously, and Mary Beth said, “OK, I give. You have to tell us. The curiosity will make me itch if you don’t.”

  “I met Cat Reed’s brother last night,” Annie said. “He’s very nice, but he really didn’t like Max. It clearly was a stress point between him and his sister.”

  “That makes sense,” Kate said. “Brothers and sisters may fight, but they look out for each other too.”

  Annie nodded. It was one of the reasons she often wished she had siblings. “Well, while they were squabbling a little, Cat mentioned that Max Lessing had worked for an office machine company.”

  Stella’s gaze sharpened. “The same office machine company as Edgar Harvester?”

  Annie nodded. “That seemed a rather large coincidence.”

  Stella’s eyes narrowed as she thought. “You know,” she said, “the second man we saw on our way here could have been Edgar Harvester.”

  “It also could have been Santa Claus,” Mary Beth scoffed. “We didn’t see the man at all.”

  “Still, Edgar Harvester has the only clear motive,” Stella said. “He wanted Betsy’s cross-stitch portrait.”

  “We didn’t even have it with us,” Mary Beth said.

  “He had no way of knowing that,” Stella said. “They could have been working together. The murder could have been a falling out between thieves.”

  “Can you really picture that little old man killing someone?” Mary Beth said.

  “Don’t count someone out because of age,” Stella said with a sniff. “People can surprise you.”

  “And he is a little creepy,” Kate said with a shudder.

  “The real question is whether I should contact Detective Matthews and tell him about this,” Annie said. “I don’t want to point a finger at someone unfairly.”

  “If he’s any kind of detective, I am sure he knows this already,” Mary Beth said.

  “He didn’t know that Max Lessing had a girlfriend until Annie told him,” Kate said.

  “Place of employment is a little more obvious in an investigation than girlfriends,” Mary Beth said.

  “He may know where the man worked,” Stella said. “But would he know the man’s employer desperately wanted an item from the room where the man died?”

  Mary Beth still shook her head. “Do you remember how concerned Mr. Harvester was about whether any of Betsy’s things were damaged? Wouldn’t he know the answer if he did the killing?”

  “He may have been trying to throw us off his trail,” Stella said.

  Mary Beth looked exasperated. “Why would he think we were even on his trail? We’re four women from a needlecrafts group.”

  “I think Mary Beth is right,” Annie said. “But Stella has a point too. After this morning event, I’m going to call Detective Matthews. He might think I’m being a pest, but I’ll feel better knowing I’m not harboring anything.”

  “OK—that seems reasonable,” Mary Beth said. “Now, no more mystery talk before we have to get Kate a cold compress.”

  “I’m not that bad off,” Kate said. “Actually, being distracted helped a little.” She took a small nibble of the edge of her muffin.

  Annie glanced down at her watch and yelped. “I need to head over to the dressing room. I’ll see y’all later.” She stood, pul
ling some money from her purse quickly and putting it on the table.

  As she left the restaurant, she met Mr. Gold. “Good morning, Mrs. Dawson,” he said. “I was hoping to run into you. I need to talk to you about licensing those pieces from your grandmother’s work. I have the contracts to show you.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Gold,” Annie said. “I am in a bit of a rush.”

  Mr. Gold’s face darkened for a moment, but then he managed a smile. “This will only take a few minutes. The contracts are very straightforward.”

  “I don’t have a few minutes, really,” Annie said. “Perhaps later.”

  Mr. Gold took hold of her arm when she started to step around him. “It’s very important that we go over these before tomorrow. I want to announce the forthcoming kits based on the portrait at the ceremony tomorrow.”

  Annie looked pointedly down at his hand on her arm. “I will be glad to talk to you later, Mr. Gold, but I have to be somewhere right now, and you’re making me late.”

  At her tone, Mr. Gold let go of her arm, and his normal gushing affability returned. “Of course, of course! I’m sure I’ll find you later after the morning meeting.”

  “Maybe.” Annie walked away quickly. She realized that Mr. Gold could definitely be considerably more strong-willed than she would have guessed.

  When she reached the dressing room, both of the other two finalists were already dressed. Annie noticed right away that Cat had not made it to the final three—but all of the pieces that did were complete outfits rather than individual items. Annie hurriedly slipped into the dress and jacket.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you’re here,” the backstage assistant said, her voice breathy with relief. “I nearly panicked.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Annie said as she slipped the dress from its hanger. “I was detained.”

  “That’s OK,” the woman said. “Here, let me help you into the jacket.”

  Thankfully, Annie knew how the piece should hang and flow, so changing was quick. The backstage assistant fussed over her for another moment or two, and then clapped her hands. “We’ll wait back here until the morning announcements are over. Then you’ll be called one by one to the stage.”

  Annie looked curiously at the other two finalists. One was the amazing embroidered dress with a matching drape—all done in metallic embroidery and jewel-tone fabrics.

  The other was a knitted skirt, made in panels to give fullness at the bottom without bulk around the waist. Along with the skirt was a cute cropped jacket with elaborate embroidered accents. The silk shell that the woman wore under the jacket was embroidered with the same pattern at a single point near the neckline.

  Both outfits were lovely, and Annie crossed her fingers as she thought about Kate’s chances of winning. She believed Kate’s designs could hold up against anyone’s, but she had to admit that she really thought all three outfits were equally amazing. She was glad she didn’t have to make the final choice.

  “Excuse me,” the backstage assistant said. “Are you Kate Stevens?”

  “No,” Annie said. “I’m Annie Dawson. I’m just modeling Kate’s dress.”

  “Is Mrs. Stevens coming?” the woman asked, her voice climbing just a little.

  “Yes,” Annie said. “I’m sure she’ll be here.”

  Just as Annie spoke, the door opened, and Kate walked in with Mary Beth behind her. “Here she is now,” Annie said to the assistant.

  “Oh good.” The assistant clapped her hands. “Ladies! At the end of announcements, you’ll all be called out, one at a time. Spread out in a small line on the stage, then Mrs. Beecher will announce each of your names again. When she does, you’ll step up to her side, and she’ll give you the microphone. You’ll describe your piece and give any specific notes about what inspired you—keep in mind that you should be brief. Then you’ll walk to the judges’ table—don’t forget to give the microphone back first! The judges will examine your outfits and ask any questions.”

  She turned to Annie and Kate. “You’ll walk out together since you’re the only model/designer team that made it to this last stage.” Her gaze swept all three finalists. “Is everyone clear?”

  There was a quiet murmur of assent. Kate nodded without speaking.

  “We’ll be ready,” Annie said.

  They all fell silent as the assistant opened the door linking the small dressing room to the main room. They could hear a rustle of noise as the convention attendees took their seats and chatted with friends.

  “You OK?” Annie whispered to her friend.

  Kate nodded mutely. She looked a little pale, but she wasn’t shaking. Annie hoped she would be fine.

  Annie jumped slightly as the main microphone grumbled and squeaked with feedback when the announcer turned it on to begin the morning session. The heavy-set woman read off the line-up of the day’s activities.

  “Don’t forget tonight is the ‘favorite things mixer,’” the announcer said. “This is a great time to show off your favorite knitted, crocheted, or embroidered piece as we get to know each other a little better. We’ll finish up with a scavenger hunt, so be ready for some fun!”

  The woman paused for a moment and then said, “And now, for something we’ve all looked forward to. We have the three finalists of the Original Fashion Design Competition as chosen by you, our convention attendees. Welcome, finalists!”

  The woman spoke each designer’s name, pausing to give them time to get to the stage. Annie and Kate went last. Annie kept her eyes forward, hoping Kate would be fine. They walked the short way to the edge of the low platform stage, stepped up and then took their places in the small line. Kate stepped behind Annie.

  Annie was glad they were last so she could see the other women handle their walk to the judges’ table. Still, she jumped slightly when the announcer called Kate’s name.

  Kate took the microphone and began to speak. “My design is a sleeveless tank dress in silk …”

  Annie noticed that her friend’s voice was a little shaky, but quickly seemed to settle as Kate read the information from the paper she’d prepared with Mary Beth.

  Finally Kate handed the microphone back to the announcer, and they walked carefully off the platform and over to the judges’ table. The judges asked Kate questions about choice of yarn and stitch, and how she blocked and joined the pieces. Annie had to open the jacket to show off seams, and then shrug out of it so the judges could look at the finishing around the arms and neck. Overall, she felt a bit like a horse at auction who might be asked to open her mouth and show off her teeth at any moment.

  Finally the judges let them go. Annie and Kate took places on the front row of the audience seats. The announcer wished the finalists luck as the judges talked quietly among themselves. Then Mrs. Beecher went on to talk about convention events planned for Sunday.

  “I hope most of you will be able to stay for Sunday’s events,” the woman said. “We will not have the vendor halls open on Sunday, but we will have a special vendor brunch, where select vendors will be showing off their hottest new items that will soon be available. I hope you’ll all want to attend that. And after brunch, we’ll have something totally new.”

  The woman paused for effect, and then said, “The Golden Needle Company is sponsoring this new event, honoring an artist whose work has inspired innovation and new perceptions in her craft. As you probably know, this year we’ll be honoring Elizabeth Holden of ‘Betsy Originals’ fame. Many of us know her work. Most have seen it displayed at this convention. On Sunday, we’ll be honoring this amazing craftswoman, and Betsy’s granddaughter, Annie Dawson, will be the featured speaker at the presentation. I hope you’ll all attend.”

  Annie almost hoped they wouldn’t all attend. The room was packed with people. Still, she knew her grandmother definitely deserved all that attention and more. Then Annie saw an elderly woman in a long rose-color cardigan walk up to Mrs. Beecher. The old woman handed her a folded piece of paper and three small envelopes.

  “
The judges have made their decisions,” Mrs. Beecher said. “Would the designers please come back to the stage with their lovely designs?”

  Annie squeezed Kate’s hand as they stood. Then they walked to the stage and took their places. Mrs. Beecher opened the folded note and looked down at it. “For our third-prize winner, with a piece of incredible technical merit, the judges have chosen Allyson Freeman’s knitted dream suit.”

  The woman in the lovely knitted suit stepped forward. The announcer handed the woman the microphone. “I am so proud to have made it this far,” Mrs. Freeman said. “I’ve been knitting for many years and have the gray hair to prove it.” She gestured to her closely cropped silver-and-black curls. “But this is the first time I’ve been called a designer. It’s a life-changing thing, and I thank everyone who voted to give me this chance.”

  The audience applauded as the regal lady shook Mrs. Beecher’s hand and accepted a small white envelope from her. Annie held her breath as the woman took her place to the left of Mrs. Beecher, and the announcer turned again to the audience. Whatever came next, Annie knew that Kate won at least second place—an amazing honor against this kind of competition.

  “Now, for second place with special congratulations on the bold choices,” Mrs. Beecher said. “I would like to congratulate Priya Bodach.”

  As the lovely woman in the jewel-tone dress walked to the front of the stage, Annie turned and hugged Kate, who swayed with shock. Kate had won the competition! Annie barely heard the second-place winner’s gracious acceptance. She was too busy crying with happiness.

  Finally, Mrs. Beecher called Kate to the front of the stage, and handed her the microphone. From where Annie looked at her through teary eyes, it was clear the microphone was shaking. “I don’t quite know what to say,” Kate whispered into the microphone. “Thank you. All of you.”

  She handed back the microphone and fumbled to take the envelope Mrs. Beecher tried to place in her hands. Finally, the envelope simply dropped to the floor.

  “Oh, sorry,” Kate said as she bent quickly to get it just as the announcer did the same. Their heads met with a ringing conk, and a burst of male laughter came from somewhere in the audience. Kate raised her head, her face feeling so hot she thought she might combust.