Who Shot the Serif

by Jessa Archer

  I was touched by his concern. "Thank you." I hugged him and lingered too long. Finally, I pulled away. "Ridge?"

  "Yeah?"

  I leaned close to Ridge and whispered, "I hate to be suspicious of everyone, but Wanda told me some things that might help. She thinks Jack and Rosemary are back together. And Jack has a financial incentive to get rid of Earleen and frame me. Jack bought one of those quotes from me. When he was buying quotes for the glampers. He gave it to Rosemary as a gift." His name had stuck out as if highlighted on that list.

  I told Ridge everything Wanda had said and voiced my own suspicions, being careful to leave out the shattered glass in that framed picture of Jack on Earleen's nightstand that I shouldn't know about. Or the note from Rosemary threatening to kill Earleen. I told him about Rosemary and the gun drawer and how she was acting suspicious and could be Jack's accomplice.

  "Why didn't you mention this before?"

  "I didn't know until today. Wanda was in here shortly before you stopped by." I bit my lip. "Look. I know what it's like to be wrongly accused. I don't want to throw accusations around lightly, either."

  I paused. "Ridge, you know the motive people are ascribing to me—my dislike and rivalry with Earleen—is weak at best. Yeah, I'm sure some people have killed over less, but this is me." I tapped my chest. "People know me. It's a flimsy reason for me to kill. The best I can think is that someone is trying to pin it on me for whatever reason. Only—"

  "Yeah?" Ridge said. "Jamie?"

  "Something's been bothering me all along—if someone is framing me, why hasn't my gun turned up? Turned up someplace that really incriminates me? Unless…" I held a finger up. "Someone doesn't want it found because they don't really want me locked away for murder. They just want the suspicion off them. Rosemary would fall into that category. If she was helping Jack."

  And so would Angel.

  "There may be other reasons we haven't found the gun," Ridge said. "I'll talk to Jack and Rosemary and see if I can verify Wanda's facts."

  "I'll go with you." I slid my chair back.

  He put a hand on my shoulder. "You'll stay out of this investigation."

  "Ridge, come on." I batted my eyelashes at him. "You know we make a good team."

  "We play great doubles badminton." He got to his feet. "Let me handle this, Jamie. I've got it."

  "One last question," I said. "Did you search Earleen's house for clues?"

  He raised an eyebrow. The question—what kind of a fool do you think I am?—was written on his face. "Absolutely." He was clearly playing it close to his chest. He wasn't about to let me know what he'd found.

  "Nothing?"

  "Nice try." He pointed his finger at me. "Keep your nose out my investigation, James. There's still a killer on the loose."

  And it was all but certain Ridge and his men had read Rosemary's note as either a lettering exercise of a threat to bill Earleen, just like Nora had, and ignored it. There was no way I could set Ridge straight without tipping my hand that I'd been in Earleen's house. I was so going to have to solve this crime.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nora cancelled her plans to go into the city to a friend's party to have a murder-mystery night with me. Only this one was deadly serious.

  I poured us each a glass of wine and filled her in on all the details of my talks with Wanda and Ridge. "Ridge didn't mention finding any threats on Earleen's desk. If he had, he wouldn't have left a clue like that behind. I think he thinks someone was threatening to bill Earleen, too."

  Nora laughed. "Sorry." She tried to keep a serious face. "Not funny. So not funny."

  "Back to business." I cleared my throat. "I looked at the list of who I've sold the limited-edition quotes to. Unfortunately, it doesn't help narrow the field of suspects much. Jack bought one. He gave it to Rosemary. Angel bought one, supposedly as a gift for a friend.

  "Artie bought one for Phyllis. I remember selling it to him. Even though Phyllis didn't particularly care for me, even way back when, she admired my work. And you know how most people have a special song? Phyllis and Artie have a special quote. And that one's it." I blew out a breath. "To be honest, anyone could have resold one or gifted one to any of the suspects."

  I paused, ordering my thoughts. "The only person who didn't buy one was Earleen. Which makes her look less likely to be the person who originally put the first poster on my door at Flourish."

  I shook my head. "It's all so confusing. Either she did and the killer capitalized on my public threats to her to frame me. Or someone who knows us both well did, knowing I'd suspect Earleen and call her out on it. Or someone else is trying to hurt my business and it's unrelated."

  Every time I tried to figure things out, they got more complicated.

  Nora spotted my confusion. "Let's go over the motives again. Maybe that will help?" She set her wine down.

  I got up and grabbed a sketchpad and pen and began writing. "Jack—at first, I thought crime of passion, but now it looks like money. He's set to make a healthy profit if he gets his bonus. Earleen could have, and would have been likely to, put a stop to it."

  Nora nodded. "Money is a powerful motivator."

  "Rosemary?"

  "She hated Earleen for taking Jack from her the first time. She'd hate Earleen even more if she'd been threatening Jack's windfall," Nora said.

  "And if her offer is accepted for Earleen's house, she benefits financially, too. Before Jack, she and Earleen were friends. It's not improbable to imagine she knew about the death deed and that Dana would want to dump the house quickly. It may not be a hard motive, but it could be a happy side benefit of getting rid of Earleen."

  I took a breath. "Angel has a motive—she's interested in buying the Culp Stationery building. Her family is growing. Expanding her business makes sense, and that location is almost guaranteed to be a moneymaker. Combine that with Earleen being suspicious and possibly blackmailing her about something."

  Nora frowned. "I hate that thought."

  "I do, too." I sighed. "Phyllis might also have known about the death deed and known she could get Earleen's house for cheap. Combine that with jealousy and revenge, a crime of passion, and she looks pretty good for the murder. Artie's in a similar boat with Phyllis. If Earleen was threatening to go public with their affair and he knew he could get her house…"

  I rubbed my chin. "Dana benefits financially, too."

  Nora looked skeptical. "But it's a pittance to her. Certainly not worth murdering anyone over."

  "We should verify that just to be sure," I said. "But how? If only trying to access her credit report wasn't illegal."

  "You could try to get her to rent space from you? A potential landlord can legally ask for a credit report."

  "Like that would ever happen."

  "Short of a credit report, we'll have to rely on our own common sense and snooping abilities," Nora said.

  "Okay," I said. "First up—is her story true? Is she having her house renovated?"

  "She is," Nora said. "I've seen the pictures."

  "With her holding up the current day's newspaper?" I teased. "You've never heard of Photoshop?"

  Nora grabbed her phone. "Dana has been showing the pictures of the progress off for weeks. And she's been posting them on her Facebook, Instagram, and Pinterest accounts. If she's faking the construction, she's doing a very convincing job of it." She showed me Dana's Facebook page.

  "I can't believe you're social media friends with Dana everywhere."

  "I can't believe you, the social media star, aren't," Nora said. "She's probably following you on your Instagram or Pinterest and you don't even know it."

  "Hmmm," I said, taking a look at Dana's profile. "Yeah, the pictures look pretty convincing."

  "Yep." Nora clicked on Dana's photos. "Look here, too. Dana's about the same weight as she was a year ago. I've known a lot of people with money problems. One of the first things they do is either gain a lot of weight or lose it."

  "That gives me an idea
." I grabbed my phone and searched on the signs that someone was in debt.

  Nora looked over my shoulder. "Yep. Weight change."

  "Other signs—debt in the past?" I asked.

  "Earleen was always bragging about how much Dana and her husband are worth. Word gets around this town. I don't remember even a whisper of Dana having problems with money ever."

  "Anxious, withdrawn, depressed?" I read aloud.

  "Pfft! Dana? Hardly."

  "A recent life event like a new baby, move, or divorce?"

  "Just the renovation."

  "Tired or having trouble sleeping?" I sighed. "She seems to have plenty of energy to me. Next item—living beyond her means. Other than buying expensive perfume for herself, she seems like a cheapskate—living with Earleen, for example. Or would that be a sign that she needs to save money?"

  "I don't think it's suspicious. They were close," Nora said. "You remember what they were like when they were young—like sisters."

  "But Dana was always way nicer."

  "Yep. I agree."

  "And this is Dana's hometown."

  "Last sign of potential money problems—a change in their spending habits," I said. "How would we know?"

  "Earleen hadn't mentioned it," Nora said. "Nor has anyone else in town. If Dana had changed, someone would have noticed."

  I sighed. "Yeah. I have to agree. As far as we can tell, Dana doesn't need money."

  "You know, you could ask Ridge." Nora lifted an eyebrow.

  "No, I couldn't."

  "Why not?" Nora asked. "Ridge has always bent the rules for you."

  "Not this time," I said. "I can't ask him to. His career is too important to him."

  "Sacrificing yourself for him. That sounds serious to me. What's going on between you two?"

  "Friendship." I put my phone away. "That's it."

  Nora looked at me sympathetically. "You're my best friend. You know I love you. Which is why I have to tell you, you need to let go of your guilt over Rut."

  We'd been over this too many times before.

  "Some things aren't so easily put aside," I said. "Ridge was my best friend. I never wanted to blow it. I don't want to risk destroying that friendship now. That's half the reason I dated Rut instead. He was Ridge, but if things went bad…"

  Nora grabbed my hand and squeezed it. "I know. But someday you're going to have to take a chance. Before another woman swoops in. You know that if Ridge ever finds the right woman, who isn't you, things will change between you. They'll have to."

  "I was engaged to his brother when his brother died. How do we ever get past that? If Ridge and I did risk it and get together, he'll always think he was my second choice. Which was never true. No matter what I do…"

  Nora let me have my grief. "When you're ready to take the chance, you'll know it."

  "When I'm a suspect in a murder that Ridge is investigating is definitely not the time." I smiled weakly.

  "It's not optimum."

  We laughed together.

  "We have to solve this murder," Nora said. "We have to."

  "You're telling me," I said, just as something dawned on me. "Angel?"

  "What about Angel?"

  "She's put on weight these last few months. Money problems? What if she needs money more than we think?"

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sunday

  I woke up to three texts from brides cancelling their contracts with me to do various hand lettering jobs for their weddings. The next text I got wasn't any better—a client cancelled a piece of work he'd commissioned for his law office. If bad news came in threes, I was already on my second set of it and the day had barely begun.

  I felt a pounding headache coming on. Caffeine—must have! I staggered almost drunkenly to my coffee bar. I managed to make myself a super grande cup with the water that was left in the reservoir of my machine. As I gulped coffee and refilled my machine's water supply, I made up my mind. This couldn't go on. Counting today, I had ten days to clear my name before I was banned from the spring wedding fair. If things kept on like they were, I'd be lucky to have any business left by then. I had to do something. But what?

  I grabbed my phone and looked through the pictures of Earleen's house again. I paused on the picture of the receipt from the lingerie store. It was from an expensive boutique in Seattle. If it had been from a big chain store, I might have given up. But a pricey boutique might be intimate enough and customer-oriented enough to remember Phyllis and Artie, especially if I showed them a picture. What could the lingerie people tell me? Maybe nothing. But I was at wits' end. It was worth a trip into Seattle to find out. At least I'd be doing something.

  I called Nora. "Are you up for some lingerie shopping in Seattle today?"

  "Buying lingerie! What does this mean?" She sounded like I'd woken her up. "Are you finally trading in your granny panties for something to impress Ridge with?"

  "Ridge hasn't seen my panties since high school. He's not likely to now. And FYI, I do not wear granny panties. I've been a thong girl forever, and you know it."

  She laughed. "Hahaha. I'll keep that in mind. Expect the Twelve Days of Thongs for Christmas this year. It would be better coming from a guy, but…"

  I didn't know how she did it, but she put a shrug in her voice. "I said we were shopping. I didn't mention buying anything. And, to be precise, we're actually investigating. I have the name and address from that lingerie shop at Earleen's house. I thought we might talk to them and see if they remember Artie and Earleen."

  "Snooping! Good plan." The last remnants of sleep left her voice. "What time?"

  "I'm taking the day off. La Nuit opens at eleven. They're in U Village. I'll pick you up at noon. Does that give you enough time to get ready?"

  "I can be ready in five. The earlier we get to the store, the less busy it will be and the more talkative and attentive the salespeople."

  The irritating thing about Nora was that even her five-minute everyday makeup job looked fabulous. Whereas my five-minute makeup job was some BB cream and a swipe of lip gloss. She looked like a supermodel when I picked her up. I looked like a woman who hadn't had enough coffee.

  One look at me and Nora pulled out her touch-up kit. "You have bags and dark circles under your eyes. No one is going to open up and talk to you, let alone believe you're interested in buying hot undies. Not when you look like the living dead."

  The good thing about Nora was she could transform me just as quickly. Within minutes, I was bag- and dark-circle-free and looked almost as good as she did.

  Traffic was light. It only took forty-five minutes to get to the university district on the north side of the city. Which was record time, and we weren't even speeding. I wasn't that kind of driver. Luck was on our side—we found a parking spot in the lot nearest La Nuit.

  I got out of the car and joined Nora.

  She grabbed my arm. "We don't want to arouse any suspicions. What's our story?"

  "I've been thinking about that," I said. "We need a way to bring up Earleen and Artie. I was thinking we could say we're buying lingerie for a friend. And then pretend we don't know her size. But we show a picture of our 'friend' Earleen. We cross our fingers and hope we get a clerk who remembers them. But that we don't run into anyone who recognizes Earleen as the murdered woman from Cedar Valley."

  "I wouldn't worry too much about that. The city's big enough that people don't pay attention to who's been murdered unless it's a really sensational case. Earleen's murder was barely a blip in the news here. Do you have a picture of her?"

  "I pulled one from her Facebook page. And one of Artie, too, just in case."

  Armed with a story and a prayer, we went in.

  La Nuit was one of those tiny, upscale boutiques where you feel conspicuous just stepping in. It was almost like the moment you crossed the threshold, their security cameras were running a credit check on you. Could you really afford to shop here? All that aside, the ambience was total luxury.

  The shop smelled
delicately like sensual, expensive French perfume. If I could smell like that, I'd have my choice of men. The store was sparsely stocked with exquisitely beautiful camisoles, bras, and panties displayed on hangers hanging from statues and works of art. The underwear sets were all works of art themselves. It didn't take a trained eye to know they were quality. Dark walnut drawers lined the walls. Along one wall was a display of candles and perfume. The most expensive items must have been in the drawers behind the counter. In a thousand lifetimes, I couldn't imagine Artie setting foot in a place like this. Nor paying the prices. For any woman.

  The beautifully turned out saleswoman greeted us with a smile, but it was also clear she was keeping an eye on us. You know you're in trouble when the salesperson is wearing more expensive clothes than you are. But who knows? Maybe beneath it all she wore undies from Walmart.

  I smiled back at her and casually looked at a price tag on a pretty pair of thong panties draped on a table. One hundred and eighty-five dollars! I'd known this place would be expensive, but I was still shocked. The receipt at Earleen's was a gift receipt without prices. I put my hands in my pockets. These things should be behind glass.

  Nora was unfazed. "Oh." She picked a pink thong up and gently rubbed it between her fingers. Fortunately, she was used to expensive clothes from both her modeling days and working on shoots now. "This is a top brand. Lovely. Perfectly lovely. So light and soft. Wearing it would be like wearing nothing at all." She sighed happily and whispered to me, "Let me handle this."

  "It's all yours." I was never so glad she'd come with me.

  She signaled to the saleswoman, who introduced herself as Lucy.

  "Hi, Lucy. I'm Nora, and this is my friend Janie."

  I nodded. Good move by Nora to give me an alias. And one I would easily answer to. I should have thought of that.

  "We're looking for a gift for a friend," Nora said. "This is very nice, but do you have anything in the Coucher line? Something in nude, maybe?"

  All right. Even I was impressed by Nora's knowledge of fine lingerie. But Lucy positively glowed. She had a live one on the line.