Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery) (7 page)

Her cell phone rang.

“Well, thanks.”

“Maybe if you called the sheriff . . .”

“I’ll do that. Thanks for your help. Good night.” She started back toward the bakery and answered her phone.

“What is going on?”

“Nothing, unfortunately. I was hoping to borrow the TAT Santa suit for tomorrow, but unless Bill okays it—”

There was an explosion on the other end of the line. Ted was laughing. “You were going to steal a Santa suit from a crime scene? Liv, I think that’s probably some kind of felony.”

“Of course I wasn’t going to steal it.”
Unless I had to
, she added silently. “I thought maybe Bill would still be there and give me a dispensation.”

“Well, he isn’t, he took Hank to the station, but I’m glad you’re still in town. We have a plan of sorts.”

“I’m listening.”

“While I was waiting for Hank, I called A Stitch in Time to see if they had enough red velveteen to make a new costume. They’re rustling up what they can and setting up their crafts room as a sewing room. I’m bringing Hank there. They’ll need him for the fittings.”

“Ted, I can’t sew, can you?”

“Needs must—”

“Yeah, where the devil drives. I hope they catch this devil and throw the book at him . . . or her. I’m on my way. I’ll meet you at the fabric store.”

Dolly was waiting at the bakery door.

“Change of plan,” Liv said. “They’re going to make a suit down at A Stitch in Time.”

“Bless Miriam Krause. I’ll send over whatever pastries are left when we close up. It’s going to be a long night. Good luck.”

Liv hurried up the street to A Stitch in Time. She passed the dark Trim a Tree store and was thankful there was no crime tape across the front, though someone had installed a lockbox on the door. And the windows were covered over with brown paper.

Next door, A Stitch in Time seemed all the more festive. Small and narrow, the store was crammed with bolts of fabric and was decorated in swags of red and green calico ribbons. There were still quite a few shoppers in the store, carrying wicker baskets filled with fabric, notions, and gifts made by Miriam’s sewing and crafts classes.

Liv hurried down the narrow aisle to the back where a quilting frame displayed the work of the quilting club. Opposite it was a cutting counter and cash register. Liv knew the shop also held sewing, knitting, and quilting classes. She didn’t know how they could squeeze it all in. She didn’t see any sewing space.

Several women had formed a line at the cash register, and Miriam Krause, the proprietress, called out over their heads, “We’re setting up in back, go on through.”

Liv had to sashay between the line and a shelf of shiny satins to get to the back of the shop.

A narrow hallway led to a back door and the alley, just as in all the other stores on the block. Liv couldn’t help but wonder if the murderer had picked one store at random and it happened to be Trim a Tree. That would make sense: a robbery gone bad.

A door was open on her right and she looked in. It was a small square, maybe ten by ten. The entire space was taken up by a rectangular table covered with a cardboard cutting surface. A length of red material was spread across it, and two women were pinning tissue pattern pieces to it.

Liv didn’t sew, but she understood the mechanics of it, and it looked like this project would take more than a few hours.

“Do you think you can finish that tonight?”

“Don’t you worry,” said one of the middle-aged women; she was wearing a green handmade sweater with a spring of holly pinned to the front.

“The Stitch in Time Sewing Club won’t let you or Hank down.”

The other lady nodded her agreement. She had a row of pins held between her lips.

Liv didn’t want to take up what little space there was in the room, but she didn’t want to leave. So she paced in the narrow hallway outside while she waited for Ted and Hank to arrive.

After an interminable few minutes, Miriam showed the last customer out and turned over the Closed sign. She walked briskly to the back of the store and began clicking light switches until only the spotlight over the quilting frame was left on. The front of the store was plunged into darkness.

Liv started. There was an uncanny resemblance to the way she and Ted had found the Trim a Tree shop only a few hours before.

“Give me a hand, can you, Liv?”

“Sure.” Liv jumped to attention.

“We need to swing this quilting frame out of the way so we can set up the extra sewing machines in here. I have two in back, but we may need more. If you can just take that other side.”

Liv positioned herself on the far side of the frame.

“You just hold that side steady.” Miriam disappeared under the other side of the frame, the frame shifted, and Miriam’s head popped up. “Now lift up your end.”

Liv lifted. The frame came away from the legs.

“Now, we’re just going to carry it into the main aisle and prop it against the shelves.” In a matter of minutes, the frame was dismantled and moved out of the way and two sewing machines and a machine Miriam called a serger had been installed in its place.

“Wow,” said Liv. “You really have this down.”

“Yes, though sometimes it gets awfully tiresome always juggling for space.”

Liv thought of the Trim a Tree shop next door. It had to be twice the size of the fabric store. She said so.

“Oh, it is,” Miriam said. “Also twice the rent. I actually considered moving for a while, but with the economy the way it is, I was afraid to take the chance. Now I wish I had. Struggling to make rent would be better than having to put up with that . . . that . . .”

Woman
, Liv finished for her.

“I don’t know why Jeremiah Atkins leased the space to those people. He should know better.”

“Jeremiah owns the building?” Jeremiah Atkins was president of First Celebration Bank.

“Oh, he owns a whole row of stores along this side of the square and a few rental houses in town. I don’t know what he was thinking to let them take over the lease. That tacky window display, the cheap ornaments. It’s just a crime.”

And a crime scene
, thought Liv morosely.

Ted and Hank arrived at the front door about ten minutes later, along with two other women, who nodded to Liv and went straight back to the sewing area.

Miriam came out to greet them.

“I sure appreciate this.” Hank nodded, docile as a kitten and sounding very depressed. Liv just hoped he’d bounce back to his jolly self by tomorrow’s breakfast.

“Now, Hank, you don’t worry about a thing. Here’s the plan. We’ve got most everything cut out, but we’re going to need to fit it on you a few times. I took the liberty of calling Nancy Pyne to see if we could use her back room. That way you could rest up for tomorrow morning in between fittings. This might take most of the night.”

“Good thinking.” Ted lifted his eyebrows at Liv and pushed Hank toward the back of the store. “We’ll just cut across the alley. I’ll call over to Buddy’s and have them send over some sandwiches and things.”

Now that he had mentioned food, Liv was ravenous. “Can I do anything here? Or should I go over with Ted and Hank?”

Miriam looked surprised. “Well, why don’t you go over with the men. Or you can go on home and get some sleep. I bet you could use it.”

She could, but no way was she going to leave before that suit was finished and under lock and key.

“I’ll stick around for a while.” When Liv caught up with them, Ted was scooping out de-icer from a plastic tub and tossing it out the door. “We don’t need anyone slipping and breaking an arm or anything. Come on, just be careful.”

As soon as they stepped outside, they were hailed by the same police officer who had stopped Liv.

“Just going to the Pyne Bough,” Ted called. “Making a new Santa suit. Lots of folks going to be coming back and forth all night, but we won’t get too close.”

“Thank you, Ted.” The officer disappeared into the shadow of the building.

Nancy met them at the back door. “Come on in. Make yourselves at home.” She didn’t sound nearly as welcoming as she had the last time. And who could blame her? She probably just wanted to go home to bed, not have to put up with witnesses and seamstresses and a suitless Santa.

Liv could sympathize. This wasn’t even déjà vu. It was more like being stuck in the same loop, like those people in the old French movie who could never leave the party, or Bill Murray in
Groundhog Day
reliving the same day over and over. This was one day Liv would be glad to see behind her.

“Nancy, thanks so much for doing this,” Liv said. “You deserve a medal for all the disruption this day has caused you.”

Nancy threw up a hand. “The least I could do. I just hope whoever robbed the Trim a Tree and killed that man isn’t going to come back to murder us all.”

“I’m meeting with the head of Bayside Security tomorrow and asking for additional guards. And I’m sure Bill will post more men around town.”

“Great idea. Come spend your family holiday under the watchful eye of armed guards.” Nancy’s voice held an edge of bitterness.

“Why don’t you close up and go home?” Ted said gently. “You look beat. If you’ll just show me where your de-icer is, I’ll salt your steps. We don’t want any seamstresses taking a tumble.”

“Thank you. It’s in the corner by the door.”

While Ted broadcast the crystals out the back door, Liv and Hank took off their outerwear. There were new hangers on the clothes rack. The police had taken in the original hangers along with the suit. Nancy must have replaced them.

Ted came back inside and shed his coat. He had to reach around Hank for a hanger, because after hanging up his coat, Hank seemed to run out of steam.

“Sit down, Hank. I’m calling Buddy’s. What would you like?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m not hungry.”

“Well, you will be,” Ted said. “It’s going to be a long night. And the pancake breakfast is a long ways away.”

Hank sat down on the edge of the cot. “Whatever.”

“Liv?”

“Whatever, but lots of it, I’m starving.”

Ted pulled out his cell.

“I’ll make coffee.” Liv grabbed the coffeepot and filled it at the water dispenser. She made a mental note to reimburse Nancy for all the coffee and water they’d been through.

As she went through the routine of pouring water and measuring coffee, her mind began to spar, one side saying,
Please let the murderer be someone passing through, a stranger, a random act of violence by an outsider
, while the other argued it would be better if it were a crime of passion, a personal vendetta; that way the visitors who flocked to Celebration Bay wouldn’t be at risk.

Neither side was winning. While they were waiting for the coffee to brew, Liv said, “Why don’t you fill me in on what happened at the station?”

Hank shuddered. “I’d like to forget.”

“True,” said Ted. “But we need to bring Liv up to speed so she can make contingency plans.” He got three mugs out of the cabinet, searched for sugar, found milk in the fridge. Stared at the coffee as it began to drip.

Liv resisted tapping her foot in impatience. That would just egg him on.

The three of them watched the pot as it filled with coffee. When it was done, Ted poured out three cups, handed a cup each to Liv and Hank, pulled a chair up near the cot so Liv could sit, and got another one for himself.

“Now, what do you want to know?”

“For crying out loud. Did they arrest Hank or not?”

“They did not,” Hank boomed so loud, Liv bobbled her coffee cup.

“So what did happen?”

Hank shifted his weight and the cot creaked. “They asked me a bunch of questions, I answered them. They let me go.”

Liv looked to the ceiling. “Men and their idea of ‘what happened.’”

“I think Liv wants a blow-by-blow,” Ted said. “After all, she has to do triage on Celebration Bay’s image.”

“This is going to ruin Christmas,” Hank said. “You know how this town is. When it gets out that they took me in for questioning about a murder, no one will let their kids come near me. Everybody will lose money. Then everybody will blame me, and I didn’t do anything.”

“No they won’t,” Liv said optimistically. “Because first thing tomorrow morning I’m going over to the
Clarion
and get Chaz Bristow to run a front-page article.”

Hank bolted from the couch. “No, you can’t.”

“Sit down, Hank. Liv knows what she’s doing.”

“Thank you, Ted. You said yourself that the news will get out. There’s no way to prevent that. We just have to spin it in our favor.”

“How?”

“A human interest story on how you, Hank Ousterhout, have given up your time and energy for how many, ten years?”

“Twelve.”

“Twelve Christmases to be the town Santa, the most beloved Santa on the East Coast or maybe ‘on the lake’ will suffice. Anyway, how someone broke into the Pyne Bough and stole your Santa suit—maybe we could call it a prank?” She looked at Ted for confirmation.

Ted grimaced.

“Anyway, someone stole the suit and stuffed it in a Dumpster. A piece of un-holiday-like mischief. But that didn’t stop you. You looked high and low and found it in time for the parade. But it was stained . . . from the Dumpster . . . and there were no other suits to be found . . . anywhere.”

Liv smiled at her story. “So the ladies from A Stitch in Time went to work to create a new suit so the children wouldn’t be disappointed. I’ll get Chaz to name them all, how the members of the sewing club stayed up all night constructing. How Nancy volunteered her store, how Dolly sent baked goods to sustain them through the night. Buddy’s sent sandwiches to fuel the seamstresses. The whole town pulled together to make this the best Christmas ever.”

Ted was grinning.

Liv huffed out air. “Well, I’m going to get Chaz to say something like that. Hopefully something that will downplay any suspicion that might fall on you—or anyone else. And give the police time to find the real culprit and arrest him.”

“That sounds real good, Liv,” Hank said, looking marginally calmer. “And it’s just like it happened.”

“Good. But I need to know a few more details. Chaz will want to know so he can add a little local color. Why, he was just talking about local color not a few hours ago.” But not exactly in the way she meant.

“Okay. Where do you want me to start?”

“From when you brought the suit here. But hang on a second.” She reached in her pocket for her cell phone. Brought up her notes. “Okay.”

“I picked it up from Ivy Cleaners yesterday morning. I walked over here and hung it up on the rack there.”

“What time was that?”

Hank frowned at her.

“For Chaz’s story.”

“Around nine o’clock.”

Ted gave her a look. He knew just what she was doing.

Liv ignored him. “Did you come in the back or front door?” she asked, typing as fast as her thumbs would move.

“Back.”

“Nancy let you in?”

“Yes. Then she gave me a key to use and went back out front.” Hank licked his lips and smoothed his moustache. “I took off the plastic to let it air out and hung it up, checked it to make sure all the buttons were there. You know how sometimes they get broken at the cleaner’s.”

Ted and Liv nodded.

“Then I left.”

“And you didn’t return until time for the Santa Parade?”

“Right.”

“Did you go out the back when you left?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And did you lock the door?”

Hank’s white brows dipped. “No. There was a delivery and they were moving boxes in. And these are practically the same questions Bill asked me downtown.”

Ted suppressed a snort. Reached for his handkerchief.

“I don’t mean to be nosey, but . . .”

“That’ll be a first,” Ted said under his breath.

“Are you typing all this into your phone?” Hank asked, craning his neck to see.

“Yes. I know Chaz won’t be able to interview you himself, since you’ll be busy all day.”
And Chaz will be sleeping, if he gets his way. Which he won’t.
“So I’m kind of interviewing you for him.”

There was a knock at the door.

“Food’s here,” Ted said and went to answer it.

“When was the next time you saw the suit?”

“I didn’t. When I came in to get dressed for the parade, it was gone. I asked Nancy, but she hadn’t seen it. She was real upset, said if someone had come in because she’d left the door open, she’d never forgive herself.”

“But she doesn’t usually leave the door unlocked, does she?”

“No, but it’s her busy season. I know she’s had a lot of deliveries lately. Someone might have sneaked in while they were unloading one of the trucks, but they’d have to be mighty fast and sneaky to do that.”

Which someone contemplating murder might be, Liv thought, but she kept it to herself.

Ted had finished arranging containers of food on the counter. He stopped and looked around, frowning.

“What?” Liv asked. “Did you think of something?”

“Just looking for a . . . ah, there it is.” Ted strode across the floor and pulled a folded card table from behind a stack of boxes. “I don’t mind having lunch at your desk, but I’m not going to have dinner in my lap.”

He opened the table and placed it in front of Hank, drew up his chair, motioned Liv to do the same, and went to get the food.

Liv continued to ask questions, which Hank answered between bites of a hot roast beef sandwich.

They’d just finished eating when there was a knock at the door. Ted opened it to Miriam Krause and another lady from A Stitch in Time, carrying two large cardboard boxes. They dropped them on the floor next to the clothes rack. Miriam lifted the top from the first box and pulled out a plastic bag filled with red velvet.

“You’ll have to try these on now, Hank, and let us get it fitted.”

Hank pushed himself off the cot, smoothed out his beard, and went to wash his hands, then took the bag and disappeared behind the madras curtain. They listened to rummaging and muffled oaths, and finally Miriam called out. “Hank, just put ’em on over your BVDs and come on out. We don’t have time for modesty tonight.”

There was a gruff response and Hank plowed through the curtain holding his Santa pants up with one fist. His jacket hung from one shoulder, but finally his cheeks were back to rosy.

Miriam cast her eyes to the ceiling, and hurried toward him. “Don’t wrinkle that velvet, I didn’t have any velveteen.”

“Heck, Miriam, they’ll fall down if I let go.”

Miriam lifted her chin toward the other seamstress. “Elsbeth, you take the right side and I’ll take the left. Now, Hank, let go. And don’t move.”

Reluctantly Hank let go of his pants. The women caught each side of the waistband and began pinning fabric at an alarming rate, somehow communicating without speaking as one tightened and the other loosened, and vice versa.

Liv watched in amazement as the shapeless fabric turned into a pair of trousers in front of her eyes.