Purls and Poison

by Anne Canadeo

  Aside from painting on silk, it seemed Kira was also a single mother, no husband or partner in sight.

  “Liza was a good egg to support them.” Suzanne had to give her that.

  “She was. But she kept it under her hat. Maybe just scared to show her softer side?” Anita nibbled the sandwich, just cucumber and watercress, but it looked good.

  Suzanne had not known Liza even had a softer side until yesterday, when Lucy read the obit. She had no theories to offer about why Liza may have wanted to hide her tender underbelly. Maybe to keep up a strong front at the office, so no one—especially me?—would take advantage of her?

  Maybe just to protect her privacy? To be a nobody, like the poem?

  Suzanne saw Maggie approach the family and thought she’d join her friend. It would be easier to talk to the bereaved with Maggie at her side. “I’d like to speak to Liza’s family,” she said to Anita. “I can’t stay very long.”

  “Sure. See you at the office,” Anita replied.

  There was a line of visitors waiting for a word with Ruth and Kira. Suzanne took a place at the back of the cue, beside Maggie, while Harry and Claire stood at the front. She couldn’t help but overhear the conversation.

  “. . . And if there’s anything you need, anything at all, please call on me.” Harry held one of Ruth’s thin hands in both of his own. “I can’t tell you how much we’ll miss her,” he added, his voice shaking a bit.

  “I didn’t know her well. But I did know she was a very special person. We’re so very sorry for your loss,” Claire added.

  She either has no clue about Harry’s attachment to Liza, or she’s a very good actress, Suzanne thought. It was probably the former. Claire seemed very much in her own world.

  Claire met Ruth’s gaze, then looked up at Kira, who still held Emma in her arms. “At least you have this beautiful girl to brighten your days. What’s her name?” Claire asked.

  Kira smiled and turned her daughter to face Claire. “This is Emma.” Suzanne heard a note of pride in her voice. “Say hello, Emmie.” The toddler glanced at Claire, then buried her face in Kira’s shoulder. “She can say a few words, but she gets shy.”

  “She must be tired. So many strangers and totally out of her routine. She’s a very good girl.” Claire reached out and gently touched Emma’s soft curls. “A beautiful girl,” she added quietly.

  Emma seemed fussy. She shook off Claire’s touch and pulled her head away. She frowned, as if she might cry. Kira bounced the toddler in her arms. “There, there. It’s okay. . . .”

  Claire pulled back. She looked disappointed. Maybe even a bit hurt by the rejection, Suzanne thought, as if she took it personally. She was touted to be an expert with children Emma’s age and should have been the Baby Whisperer. Maybe she was just embarrassed.

  “Sorry, she’s a little cranky today. She’s usually very even tempered,” Kira said, looking back at her child.

  “It’s my fault. Entirely. Though she might benefit from a little more socialization,” Claire added. “Is she in preschool yet? You should start her right away. Come visit my school, Prentiss Academy. It would be perfect for her.” Claire had taken a card from her purse and held it out to Kira. “Call me when you’re ready. I’d be happy to waive the tuition. I know Liza would have wanted the best for her niece.”

  Kira glanced at the card and back at Claire. “Thank you. There’s so much going on right now. I will think about it. Liza did want the best for her. She was very devoted to Emma,” Kira said, gazing down at the child again. “As much as any aunt could be.”

  Harry stood by but did not interrupt the conversation. Suzanne wondered what was going through his head as he stood with Kira, who was an exact double of the woman he had loved and lost.

  Claire turned to him. “Say hello to Emma, Harry. Isn’t she darling?”

  Harry looked uncomfortable and put on the spot. He leaned over awkwardly and waggled his index finger. “Hello, Emma. How are you?” he asked in a formal tone.

  Emma stared at him, wide eyed. Suzanne thought she might burst into tears. But a smile appeared as she reached out and grabbed his tie.

  Harry pulled back, chuckling, but looked self-conscious, too, as he gently loosened her hold. Claire was amused. “She likes you, Harry. She didn’t react to me that way.”

  Harry smoothed his tie under his jacket again. “All the girls like me, dear,” he joked. “I can’t help it.” Finally he said, “I think we’d better move on, Claire. So many people are waiting.”

  “Yes, of course.” Claire nodded, with a solemn expression. She briefly touched Kira’s arm in a comforting gesture. “Please stay in touch. The coming weeks and even months will be hard for you. We really do understand. And we’re here for you—all of you.”

  Harry said good-bye, too, then took Claire’s arm and steered her toward the refreshment table.

  Maggie had found an opening to speak with Ruth, and Suzanne slipped up next to her. “I just wanted to let you know how very sorry I am for your loss,” Maggie said sincerely. “I didn’t know Liza that well, but I so enjoyed her visits to the shop. She was always a bright spot in my day.”

  Ruth nodded graciously. Her thin face was crisscrossed by the signs of age. But Suzanne could see, in her bright blue eyes and delicate features, that she had once been a very beautiful woman. And her daughters had taken after her that way.

  “A bright spot. Yes, truly. She was the light of my life. Now that light has gone out forever,” she said sadly. “It’s hard to believe.”

  “I’m sure,” Maggie murmured. She turned to Suzanne. “This is Suzanne Cavanaugh. She worked with Liza at the realty office.”

  “We’re all very shocked and so sorry,” Suzanne said. She realized it didn’t sound like much, but it was impossible to put such a loss into words, or express the sympathy you really felt.

  “Thank you. She did love her work. That’s something to remember.” Ruth looked up at her. “Your name sounds familiar.”

  “Really? I know we’ve never met,” Suzanne said quickly. If Liza had ever mentioned her to Ruth, Suzanne was sure it had not been in a flattering light. Or maybe the police kept the family apprised of their investigation and Ruth knew Suzanne had been questioned?

  Maggie seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She smoothly changed the subject. “I’d love to visit you sometime at Brookside Village, Ruth. If that would be all right. We could do some knitting.”

  “I’d like that.” Ruth nodded. “I used to knit with Liza all the time. I’ll miss that.”

  Maggie seemed sorry to hear that admission. “I imagine that you will. But I’ll be in touch. No pressure. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Thank you for coming today.” Ruth turned to include Suzanne. “So many people here. From all over. It’s a bit overwhelming. So many names and faces, I can hardly keep track. But Liza was respected and even loved wherever she went. It’s a comfort for us to see that.”

  “She was,” Suzanne agreed. More than I’d ever guessed or would allow myself to acknowledge before today.

  Maggie and Suzanne said good-bye to Ruth and moved along the line. Kira was talking with a large circle that she seemed to know well.

  “Kira seems involved. Let’s not intrude,” Maggie said quietly.

  “I agree. I guess we can go. Do you see Dana and Lucy?” Suzanne glanced around the room and noticed Nick Sutton approaching Ruth, making his way slowly with a swinging gait, caused by his cane. Even with his injuries, he was even better looking and well turned out than she’d remembered.

  She was not the only one who noticed him. Suzanne watched Beth and Janine huddled nearby, whispering to each other with bright eyes. If the occasion hadn’t been so solemn, Suzanne suspected some girlish giggles would have wafted her way as well.

  Good looking or not, it quickly became apparent Sutton was the skunk at the garden party.

  Silence fell over the room as Ruth shouted at him. “You? You have the audacity to come here? How dare
you show your face! Get out! Right now! I’ll call the police. . . .” She was very upset, and struggled to rise up from her wheelchair.

  Her daughter and a few others rushed to Ruth’s aid, making her sit back down as she wheezed out the last few words. “Get him out of here. I can’t even look at him. . . .”

  Sutton stared back at her a moment. Suzanne wondered what he might do or say. The minister approached and said a few quiet words Suzanne couldn’t hear.

  Sutton’s mouth twisted in a frustrated expression. “I’m leaving. Don’t worry.” He headed for the exit, hobbling on his cane. “It’s no use with you high and mighty Devereauxs,” he called back over his shoulder. “You always want the last word. It won’t work this time. I’ll guarantee you that.”

  Finally, he was gone. The room had grown silent, but conversation quickly started up again.

  “Who was that man?” Maggie looked at Suzanne with a startled expression.

  “Liza’s estranged husband, Nick Sutton,” Suzanne replied. “Not on good terms with family, it seems.”

  “Obviously,” Maggie echoed.

  Dana and Lucy had walked over to join them. They were wearing their coats and ready to go. “You said that their divorce was contentious. But it seems there’s more than the typical amount of bad feelings there,” Lucy said quietly as she led the group toward the door.

  “Much more. Ruth was beside herself. He must have treated Liza very badly. Or done something to the family to earn such disdain,” Dana said.

  Suzanne fished around her big purse for her car keys. “The police always look at the spouse in situations like this, don’t they?”

  “That’s what I’ve always heard.” Maggie was carrying her sweater coat over one arm, a handmade masterpiece of stitchery in which she took great pride. She opened it up and slipped it on.

  “I hope Charles and his partner take a good, long look at this guy. There’s some bad blood there. No question.” Suzanne felt a twinge of hope. No one she’d met at the gathering had seemed the least bit suspicious, except for Nick Sutton.

  “Maybe we should give him a look, too,” Lucy suggested.

  “You won’t get an argument from me.” Suzanne followed her friends out of the dimly lit church into the late day sun, feeling warmed and relieved. She had not realized how much she’d dreaded this event. Thank goodness it was over.

  She felt her phone vibrating wildly in her pocket. She’d shut off the ringer in church and had forgotten to turn the sound on again. She pulled it out as her friends continued walking. “Hubby” had appeared on the screen.

  “Kevin’s calling. I’d better take it.” She pressed the phone to her ear and greeted him. “Hi, hon. What’s up?”

  Kevin was fine with the kids, but when things went over the top, she was the final arbiter. Alexis must be whining about wanting to hang out with friends before she’d finished studying. Or maybe one—or both?–of the boys had stretched Kevin’s patience too far?

  “The police are here, Suzanne. They have a warrant and just started searching our house.”

  The news stopped her in her tracks. “The police? Searching our house?”

  She screamed. She couldn’t help it. Her friends turned and ran back, quickly surrounding her. She felt Lucy on one side and Dana on the other, catching her under the arms as her knees buckled.

  “What is it, Suzanne? What happened?” Lucy asked.

  “The police are searching my house. They have a warrant.. . .”

  Suzanne was terrified. She heard Kevin’s voice, calling out to her. She quickly put the phone back to her ear.

  But before she could reply, she saw Charles and Detective Oliver, in their dark blue sedan, driving toward her. Her stomach dropped, as if she was on an amusement park ride, and everything started spinning.

  “Charles and Frank Oliver . . . look.” She pointed at the car. “They have a wrecking crew tearing my house apart, and now they’ve come to get me.”

  Lucy put her arm around Suzanne’s shoulder. “Calm down . . . It’s all right.”

  Suzanne met her gaze. “It’s not all right. It’s not all right at all.”

  “Suzanne? Are you still there?” Kevin’s voice shouted from her phone. She still hadn’t answered him.

  “I’m here. But so are the police. I’m sure they’ve come to take me to the station again. Oh, Kev . . . I’m so scared.” She started crying and couldn’t say more.

  “I’ll be right there. I’ll call the lawyer. Don’t say a word this time until she gets there. Promise me, Suzanne.”

  “Don’t worry. I learned my lesson,” she managed as Kevin said good-bye and ended the call.

  Maggie patted her arm and handed her a pack of tissues. Suzanne wiped her eyes as her friends looked on with wordless sympathy. She felt like a sitting duck. Or a fish in a barrel. Or whatever expression Lyle Croddy would have come up with to illustrate how she just had to stand there and wait for the police to drag her away.

  She’d been so naive and forthcoming the first time the police interviewed her, thinking it was best to be completely honest. Where did that get me? In more hot water.

  Her friends stood around her in a protective circle as she finished her snivels. “My eye makeup is a mess, right? I look like a raccoon with a hangover.”

  “Not at all,” Dana insisted.

  “Liar,” Suzanne said, with a shaky smile. She sighed. “I hope they give me a minute to freshen up before the mug shot.”

  “Stop that! There will be no mug shot. Let’s not even go there,” Maggie insisted.

  Visitors from the memorial gathering were drifting out of the church, heading to their cars, totally unaware of the dilemma she was caught in. Suzanne searched the lot again, looking for the detectives.

  “Where are they? I don’t see them anymore.”

  Had they possibly left, deciding not to bother her until they searched her house? But the dim hope was quickly squashed.

  “Here they come.” Dana glanced over her shoulder. “They’re walking this way. I don’t see the car. They must have parked it somewhere else.”

  Suzanne turned and saw the two men walking her way. She looked back to her friends and winced. “Why did I wear these heels? My feet are killing me and I can’t even make a run for it.”

  She was only half joking and the humor fell flat.

  Lucy squeezed her shoulder and Maggie took her hand. She felt Dana’s gentle, soothing touch on her back.

  The support was a comfort, though she knew there was no way they could hold on to her. In a heartbeat, the police would whisk her away.

  Charles, who was steps away now, met her gaze, and she felt her stomach churn with anxiety.

  “Just remember, you are completely and totally innocent.” Maggie’s tone was quiet, but stern.

  “You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong,” Dana reminded her.

  “Thanks, guys.... Why don’t I feel like that right now?” Suzanne heard her voice quiver.

  “Suzanne,” Charles said. “New information has come up in the investigation of Liza Devereaux’s death. We have more questions for you.”

  Did she hear a note of reluctance in his voice, or was that just wishful thinking? He did look tired. She guessed he’d been working long hours. Trying to build a case against her?

  Before Suzanne could answer, Detective Oliver said, “You need to come with us to the station, Mrs. Cavanaugh. Right now.”

  His tone is cold, almost gleeful, she thought.

  She nodded quickly. “I understand.”

  She glanced at her friends, her dear, dear friends who would have stepped between her and these men if she’d asked them to. She reached in her pocket and handed her keys to Lucy.

  “Here, take my car. I’ll pick it up later.”

  Before Lucy could take the keys, Detective Oliver stuck out his hand. “I’ll take those. We have a warrant to search your car, too.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.” Maggie said quietly. “You’ll be fi
ne, too. Let us know how it goes.”

  Charles had stepped aside, Suzanne noticed, letting Detective Oliver take over. Perhaps he was embarrassed to drag her off to the police station with Maggie watching. Suzanne saw Maggie glance at him, a silent plea, Suzanne thought. But Charles didn’t respond. Didn’t even meet her gaze. He glanced at Suzanne and then at his partner.

  “Let’s go, Mrs. Cavanaugh.” Detective Oliver met her gaze and she started walking before he could take her arm or escort her in an even more embarrassing way. She set off at a brisk pace, walking between the two detectives as they led her to their car. Thank goodness they hadn’t put handcuffs on her. She was sure she could never bear that humiliation. She felt people in the parking lot watching, but she forced herself to keep her gaze forward, acting as if she was leaving the service with two rather grim male companions.

  As Charles helped her into the backseat, Detective Oliver spoke to a uniformed officer who had pulled up nearby in a blue and white police car. He handed the officer the keys to Suzanne’s SUV and explained where it was parked.

  Charles sat in the passenger seat. “Please put your seat belt on,” he said quietly.

  Suzanne did as she was told. She wanted to talk to him, to ask him questions in their familiar way. But something about his demeanor kept her silent.

  Across the parking lot, she saw her friends standing by the church, watching. Powerless to help her, though she knew how much they wanted to.

  She stared back at them, remembering Maggie’s words.

  Of course I didn’t do it. Of course I’m totally innocent. But that fact doesn’t seem to matter. Not so far.

  She felt so lonely and frightened.

  What was going to happen now?

  Chapter 7

  “Hey, I’m not sorry. Okay? And I’m not going to say I am.”

  Suzanne glanced at her son, Ryan, who sat beside her in the front seat as she drove toward home. His defiant declaration was practically an echo of words she’d said last night to the detectives, who had questioned her relentlessly.