The Long Stitch Good Night: An Embroidery Mystery (13 page)

He draped an arm around my shoulders. “Believe me, I understand how you must be feeling. But please leave this case to the professionals. Don’t go playing Nancy Drew.”

“I’m not…not really,” I said. “It’s just hard. Sadie has been my best friend since we were in college, and Blake treats me like a little sister.”

“I know, Marce, and I truly feel for you. But I don’t want you to get hurt…physically or emotionally,” he said. “Some of our best people are on this case. We’ll get to the truth.”

“I know you will,” I said with a smile.

“Are you free for dinner tonight?”

“I’m afraid not. I’ve got an appointment with a personal trainer to learn some exercises to build strength in my arms.” I flexed the muscles in my right arm to show him how puny they were.

“What on earth for?” he asked. “Your arms look great.”

“Maybe so, but I’m tired of having so much trouble lifting and carrying boxes of supplies. And the damsel-in-distress role is becoming tiresome.”

“You can always call on me, damsel,” Ted said. “I don’t care what you’re wearing—dis dress, dat dress, jeans…”

I threw my head back against the sofa cushion and groaned. “Worst pun ever!” I laughed. “I’m happy to see you in better spirits today, though.”

“I’m happy Manu will be back at the end of the week,” he said. “So can I get a rain check on dinner?”

“You bet.”

I looked at the clock and decided that if no one else came in this afternoon, I had a good forty-five minutes to devote to my Mountmellick project. That should be enough time to finish a shamrock or two. Or, at least, one and a half.

I’d just started making progress when Mom called. She wanted to know, “Who are Roberto and Carla Gutierrez, and why did you ask them to call me?”

“I meant to phone and explain all that to you, but this afternoon has been crazy,” I said. “Roberto was one of the guys at Todd’s party Friday night.”

“The party where the man was shot, I’m guessing,” she said.

“Right,” I said. “Anyway, I was trying to
think of a way to talk with him without being obvious that I wanted to talk about the murder. Since he and his wife make indie films, I told them I was your daughter and was interested in making costumes for them.”

“You little liar!”

“But I
am
your daughter,” I protested.

“Whatever happened to
I hate throwing your name around
and
I refuse to ride on my mother’s coattails
?” Mom asked.

“Desperate times, Mom. Desperate times.”

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not much about what happened Friday night,” I said. “But I did learn that this couple adores you and thinks you’re an artistic genius.”

She gave a throaty chuckle. “I do love people of quality.”

“I’m not kidding, Mom. They were familiar with all of your better-known—and many of your lesser-known—films.”

“So, did you sign on to make the costumes for them?”

“Are you kidding? You know better than that,” I said. “They said they’re working on a Depression-era piece, and I told them I was afraid I couldn’t do the film justice. I said that you, however, might know someone in the Seattle area who could do a terrific job on the project.”

“You know what? You’re right. I do.” She laughed again. “I’ll give the Gutierrezes a call and see if they’re as knowledgeable about me as you say they are. And I’ll tell them about my friend in Seattle.”

“Thanks, Mom. I owe you one.”

“You owe me
thousands
,” she said. “I’ve simply never cashed in. So, what’s up with Todd and Ted?”

“Todd and Keira, the girl he took to the ball last month, are apparently at the hand-holding stage,” I said. “Ted did ask me to dinner this evening, but I can’t go because I have an appointment with a personal trainer.”

“A personal trainer?” she asked.

“Yep. It’ll probably just be the one visit, though.”

“For the record, I’m Team Edward,” she said, referring to the debate among
Twilight
fans over whether the heroine should choose the vampire or the werewolf.

“And I’m Team Jacob,” I said with a giggle.

“This trainer…was he at the party Friday night?” she asked.

“Uh-huh.” She knew me so well.

“Be careful, love. I don’t like you getting involved with all this mayhem and intrigue.”

“That’s your world, Mom, not mine. And
I’m planning on shelving my deerstalker and magnifying glass and leaving the crime solving to the professionals after tonight.”

Todd came in, and I held up an index finger to let him know I’d be with him in a second. Angus got up and greeted him. That dog was the best helper ever. He even outshone Jill.

“I’ve got to go, Mom. Someone just walked in. I’ll talk with you soon.” I told her I loved her and ended the call.

“Hi,” Todd said.

“Hi, yourself,” I said.

“Sadie sent me to get Angus for her. She said she’d have the croissant ready when I get back with him.”

“I suppose she was too busy to come get him herself?” I asked.

“Something like that.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “She told me you saw Keira and me walking down the street this morning.”

“Uh, yeah. I’d have had to have been blind to miss it,” I said. “You didn’t see Keira wave to me?”

“No. I wasn’t paying attention. I was trying to hurry up and…”

When he trailed off, I resumed my stitching. “It’s not a big deal.”

He took his hands from his pockets and came to sit on the ottoman in front of me. “It’s a big deal if you have the wrong impression about Keira and me.” He took my shoulders so I’d be compelled to look into those soulful chocolate eyes of his. “She asked me to do her a favor. She said this guy she used to date has been hassling her. He saw us together at the masquerade ball, so she wanted him to think we were a couple so he’d leave her alone.”

Oh, sure. And the guy just
happened
to be in such close proximity to my shop that Keira needed to parade Todd by my window so she could give her gloating little wave? Riiight. Do you honestly believe that, Todd?
That’s what I thought. What I actually said was, “Again, it’s not a big deal.”

“Then why do I feel like it is?” he asked.

I shrugged.

“That!” He spread his hands. “That little—” He imitated my shrug…rather clumsily, if you asked me. “That speaks volumes.”

“Good,” I said. “Then I shouldn’t have to say anything else.”

“Will you please cut me some slack? I’ve had a pretty rough seventy-two hours,” he said.

I put aside my embroidery project, stood, and put some distance between Todd and me.
“I realize that. I, on the other hand, have had a glorious time trying to figure out what happened Friday night and to prove your innocence. Adding to all my fun is the fact that you won’t even share your version of events with me so I can compare it to what I’ve learned from the others I’ve spoken with. You’re too busy walking up and down the street in front of my window with your girlfriend!”

“See?” Todd jumped up from the ottoman. “I
knew
that bothered you!”

“Do you want to know what bothers me? I’ll tell you what genuinely irks me to the core: the fact that on Friday, before the shooting, you told me we needed to talk about
things
. I thought one of these
things
you wanted to talk about was whether we could have a relationship. This morning, you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me what happened after I left the pub.” My eyes filled, and I turned away, hoping Todd hadn’t seen my tears. “I think that answers the relationship question fairly succinctly. Don’t you?”

“Marcy.” He bridged the distance between us and put his hand on my back.

I moved away from his touch. “Please tell Sadie I’ve changed my mind. I’m locking up the shop now and taking Angus home after all.”

S
ince I cried all the way home, I had to wash my face and redo my makeup as soon as I got there. I felt betrayed…not only by Todd, but by Sadie and Blake as well. And I didn’t feel that Todd had betrayed me with Keira. He and I weren’t a couple. I might’ve felt a sting of jealousy when I first saw them together, but I didn’t feel betrayed. What I was so hurt by was the fact that no one trusted me enough to tell me what happened—or even what they
thought
happened—on Friday night.

I put Angus, his food, water, and new squeaky bear outside on the back porch. It wasn’t supposed to rain tonight, but if it did, he could doze on the porch swing. I didn’t
have time for dinner, so I grabbed a protein bar on the way out the door.

My phone rang as I was en route to the Jeep. It saw that it was Sadie, and I let the call go to voice mail.

Mark’s gym was only about a fifteen-minute drive from Tallulah Falls. It was named, simply enough, Mark’s Gym. Even from the outside, I could tell this was a man’s gym and that it wasn’t used to catering to women at all. There was no landscaping to speak of. Although there was mulch on either side of the sidewalk and in front of the building, there were no plants. A concrete planter near the door contained only sand, cigarette butts, and gum wrappers.

I wiped my damp palms down the sides of my jeans before opening the door and stepping inside. To my left was a boxing ring where two men whose hands were taped and who were wearing headgear were sparring. Beyond the boxing ring, punching bags of various sizes, shapes, and colors hung from the ceiling. To my right, there were all kinds of free weights and aerobic machines, such as ellipticals, treadmills, rowing machines, and cycles. Huge, muscular men stopped what they were doing to
turn and stare at me. I had never felt so tiny in all my life…and that was saying something.

I raised my right hand in greeting. “Hi. I have an appointment with Mark.”

An older, scraggly-bearded gentleman who was watching the sparring match bellowed, “Mark!”

Mark immediately poked his head out of a doorway to the far left of the gym. “Hey, Marcy, come on back. Guys, you can put your eyes back in your head and close your mouths now.”

I walked past the boxing ring and punching bags where Mark waited to usher me into his office. The room was large and sparsely furnished. In one corner was a black metal desk with an uncomfortable-looking chair and a gray filing cabinet. A calculator and a laptop sat on the desk. In the other corner was a pyramid of free weights. The only other items in the room were a leather sofa and a flat-screen television, which were on opposite sides of the room. The rest of the office was wide-open space.

Mark pushed the door closed behind me. “As you can probably tell, we don’t have many female members. Because of that, I couldn’t find any dumbbells around here lighter than
ten pounds.” He reached into a deep drawer of the desk and brought out two water bottles. “For today, these will have to suffice as your weights.”

I was glad to see that Mark had dropped the condescending attitude he’d adopted over the phone. Apparently, he’d decided my interest in him was professional after all.

I smiled and picked up the water bottles. “These are going to make me stronger?”

“No. After you leave here, I want you to go to a sporting goods store and buy two three-pound dumbbells,” he said. “When those stop being a challenge, I want you to go up to five-pound weights.”

“Okay.” This man was serious about his job. And given his good looks, women would likely beat a path to his door for personal training if they knew about him. “Why don’t you advertise? I’d never even have known about this place if I hadn’t met you Friday night.”

“I enjoy doing what I’m doing. Contrary to what anyone else thinks, I don’t feel the need to expand my business.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, surprised by the sharpness of his tone. “I wasn’t suggesting that at all.”

“I know,” he said. “And I apologize for being
rude. I’ve just heard that spiel about growing my business a lot lately, and it’s become a touchy subject.”

“I understand. I don’t think you’re the only one who feels bigger isn’t necessarily better,” I said. “If I’m not mistaken, Blake had to make that clear to Graham Stott on Friday.”

Mark frowned. “Graham wanted Blake to expand?”

“From what I understand, he wanted Blake to begin franchising.” I shook my head. “Which is kinda goofy, if you ask me. How could a small, independent coffeehouse compete with Starbucks?”

“And why would Blake want to try to compete and lose the charm of MacKenzies’ Mochas?” Mark asked. “I don’t know why Graham thought we should all become business tycoons.”

“Maybe it was because he cared about all of you and that’s how he showed it—by trying to make sure you were financially secure,” I said.

“Graham might’ve been financially secure, but he was one of the most unhappy people I’ve ever known.”

I frowned. “How come?”

“Who knows? It always seemed to me like he had everything from a material standpoint
but nothing that really mattered,” said Mark. “He was rather sad in that respect.” He took a deep breath. “But you aren’t here to chitchat. Let’s get down to business.”

Using the two water bottles as dumbbells, Mark showed me how to do biceps curls, rotational dumbbell arm curls, triceps overhead extensions, and triceps kickbacks.

“I want you to start out with three sets of twelve repetitions,” he said. “Did you tell me your shop is across the street from the Brew Crew?”

I nodded.

“Is it all right if I stop in within the next day or so to see how you’re doing? I’d like to check your form with your actual dumbbells.”

“That sounds great, Mark. Thanks.” As I was writing him a check for our session, I asked if he’d known Blake and Todd before they went to college together.

“I’m afraid I’ve known those two clowns pretty much all my life,” he said with a laugh. “We started kindergarten together.”

“Do you think it’s possible that either of them shot Graham?” I asked.

He sighed. “It’s hard for me to believe that one of them did, but I’ve come to realize over the years that people snap sometimes and do
things they could never have imagined doing in a normal situation.” He accepted my check and placed it in the top desk drawer. “Do you need a receipt, Marcy?”