The Walleld Flower (16 page)

Katie hit the enter key on her computer, e-mailing Gilda the prototype bridal shower invitation for her approval. She’d chosen Monday night for the event, as it seemed more of the participants could be free on that day and at that time. And what a nightmare it had been calling and asking for input. After that, she’d hit the phone book and started calling video stores, looking to rent a Betamax machine.

It was slow going. She’d decided against calling the big national chains, instead concentrating on mom-and-pop stores. Most of them seemed to specialize in “adult” features, and none of them had beta video machines to rent. Although some stores still rented out the tapes, none would give out their clients’ names—not that she wanted to contact anyone with that kind of taste in entertainment; she just wanted to rent or borrow a machine.

Katie glanced at the tape sitting on her desk. Obviously someone had meant for her to watch it, but why hadn’t they transferred the images to a more common format? A stall tactic perhaps? Maybe whoever sent it wanted Heather’s killer exposed—but not too quickly. Could it be the same person who left the pillbox necklace draped around Heather’s neck when she’d been sealed behind the plasterboard wall?

Katie considered calling Detective Davenport about the tape. He could probably find a beta machine in no time flat—but then she’d never get to see what was on it. And who said this had anything to do with Heather’s death anyway?

That decided, she turned her attention to the wall clock. It was time to give the twenty-minute warning that Artisans
Alley was about to close. She pushed the legal pad aside, got up, and headed for the cash registers at the front of the store.

Rose was handling a sale, with Edie wrapping and bagging the customer’s purchases. The other cash desk was empty.

“Where are Anne and Joan?” Katie asked.

“They had to leave about a half hour ago,” Edie said, pulling a length of tape from the dispenser and sticking it down on a piece of buff-colored wrapping paper.

Katie stepped closer, bending so only Edie could hear her. “If you’re here, who’s been walking security?”

Edie frowned guiltily. “Nobody. I guess we should’ve called you to come up and help. But there’s hardly anybody here. It’s been quiet as the grave.”

Rose, who evidently
could
hear them, shot Edie a sharp glance over her shoulder. Edie blushed, and focused her attention on the blown-glass ornaments before her.

Katie crossed to the telephone, punched the public address button, and gave her canned speech. “Thank you for shopping with us at Artisans Alley. We’ll be closing in”—she glanced at her watch—“eighteen minutes. Please bring your purchases to the front desk. Thank you.”

As anticipated, several customers sidled up to the cash register. Katie reopened register two, handling a few of them herself, taking the money and wrapping the items. In no time at all it was four fifty-five and the lines of customers had thinned. Katie looked up to see Polly Bremerton enter through Artisans Alley’s main door as several customers exited. Polly glared at Edie before she headed up the stairs toward her booth.

Rose leaned over the counter, looking down the aisle. “I don’t see anyone else. I guess we’re done for today.”

Katie opened the cash drawer and withdrew the stack of bills from the rightmost partition, thumbing through the stack of ones, making sure they were all going the same direction. “Why does Polly come in so often? Surely she
doesn’t sell enough that her booth needs attending twice a day.”

Rose had already started emptying her till and was separating checks from credit card receipts. “She likes to make sure it’s tidy at the end of the day, and says it gives her an idea of what she needs to bring in to restock the next morning.”

“If you ask me, it seems more like she hasn’t got enough to do to fill her days,” Edie said.

Katie smiled. Edie was another vendor who came in daily and often worked four or five days more than the required two days per month, whereas it was difficult to get Polly to walk her scheduled security detail. She seemed to hover around her own booth, which couldn’t have been good for her sales. And she’d railed against learning how to use the register, saying it was menial work.

“Well, let’s get her out of here,” Rose said, stacking the cash and rubber banding it. “The auction preview starts in an hour, and I want to have a good look at everything before the bidding starts.”

“Don’t we even get time to eat?” Katie asked.

“They have all kinds of food there,” Rose said. “That is, if you don’t mind pizza and greasy hamburgers.”

“Oh, swell,” Katie said, cringing at the thought of yet more cheese and pepperoni.

Katie emptied the rest of her own cash drawer. A hoarse scream cut the air. She looked up toward the stairs. “What the heck was that?”

A flushed Polly suddenly appeared at the top. “It’s horrible,” she cried, her voice rising. “It’s just horrible.”

Katie scooted from behind the cash desk and handed Rose the wad of cash, checks, and other receipts. “Please finish cashing out. I’ll go see what this is all about. Edie, could you lock up?”

Both women nodded as Katie jogged to the staircase, then took the steps two at a time.

Frightened and pale, Polly stood there, wringing her hands, not looking at all like the woman in charge that Katie was used to seeing. “How could someone do this? Why would someone do this to me?”

“Do what?” Katie asked.

“Come and see!” Polly waited and led the way, and Katie, with shorter legs, had a hard time keeping up. Polly abruptly halted, turned her face away, and pointed toward her booth.

Katie gasped. Five of Polly’s handcrafted dolls, looking vulnerable with their clothes removed, hung from the ceiling on lengths of cord with tiny nooses around their little wooden necks.

Katie stared at the incongruous sight. The once-charming painted smiles on the dolls’ carved faces now looked macabre. She did a quick recon of Polly’s booth. The locked cabinet’s glass door had been smashed.

“I’ve taken all the harassment I intend to,” Polly said, her nostrils flaring with each snorting exhalation.

“You don’t know it was Edie,” Katie stated.

“Who else could it be?”

“Edie’s been working on the cash desk with Rose for the last hour.”

“She could have done this earlier. Wasn’t she supposed to be walking security today?”

Katie blinked but then remembered the worksheet she placed on cash desk one every day before opening, so that everyone who worked would know their assigned task. “Yes, but—”

“I insist you do something about that woman—
now
!”

Katie didn’t know how to respond. Instead, she turned
and walked back to the stairs. She was met by Rose and Edie at the bottom.

“What is it?” Rose asked, her eyes shadowed with worry.

Katie spoke to Edie. “Would you take the day’s receipts and wait for me in my office?”

Edie hesitated, then bobbed her head, taking flight like a frightened sparrow.

“Rose, there’s broken glass in Polly’s booth. Would you get the vacuum cleaner and help her clean up? I’ll explain everything later. And don’t pay attention to a word she says.”

Rose looked panicked. “Is she trying to get Edie in trouble again?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Rose nodded and hurried up the stairs.

Katie swung around the banister and threaded through the warren of booths, aiming for the back of the first floor. She paused to survey booth fifty-six, taking note of its size, the placement of electrical outlets, and the lighting, before she turned to start back for her office.

Edie still clutched the wad of cash and checks from the cash desks. She stopped pacing as Katie entered the confined room.

“I don’t know what happened upstairs, but please believe me, I didn’t do it!” Edie cried.

Katie studied Edie’s taut face and her gray eyes, dark with fear. “Please sit,” she said, motioning Edie into her shabby guest chair.

With trembling hands, Edie handed Katie the money and perched on the edge of her seat.

Katie stuffed the day’s receipts into the top-right desk drawer before turning to Edie. “This nonsense between you and Polly has gone on long enough. I have to put a stop to it.”

“But, Katie—”

“I’ve decided for the sake of peace and harmony that one of you has to—”

“Not leave,” Edie protested, her voice breaking into a sob.

“No, move. Debbie Weston will be vacating her booth on Monday. Do you think you could move right in?”

Edie gaped, her eyes widening with surprise. “Me? Move downstairs? But, other people have been on the list much longer. If I move to another booth, won’t you get a lot of flack from the vendors who’ve been waiting longer than me?”

“I’ll explain the situation to anyone who objects. If I have to, I’ll placate them with a week of free rent.” She softened her voice, leaning closer. “But let’s not spread word of that around.”

With an awkward lurch, Edie captured Katie in a hug. Katie patted her back, catching the scent of cologne—violets? “I’ll help you move your stock whenever you’re ready,” she said.

Edie pulled back. “But Monday’s your only day off—and you’ve got that bridal shower to take care of.”

“I’m always here anyway.”
And will have to move more of my own boxes to Artisans Alley for storage,
she mentally amended. “And since the shower will be held here, too, it’s a win-win situation.”

Edie cleared her throat and straightened. “It seems like all you do lately is take care of Rose and me. I’m sorry to be such a burden.”

Katie stood. “You’re not a burden. You and Rose are my friends. Now, why don’t you go look at Debbie’s booth to give yourself an idea of how you want to set it up.”

“But Rose is eager to go to the auction,” Edie said, sounding anxious once again.

“Another five or ten minutes won’t matter that much. Meanwhile, I’ll go back upstairs and try to pacify Polly.”

Edie frowned. “That’s a fate worse than death.”

She trotted off, but Katie hung back, locking the day’s receipts in the safe. She’d deal with it in the morning.

By the time she made it back to Polly’s booth, the dolls had been removed and the glass had been cleaned up. A tight-lipped Rose grabbed the vacuum cleaner and made a hasty retreat.

Polly brandished a doll in one hand and shook it under Katie’s nose. “My property’s been defaced. All the dolls’ clothes are missing. I demand restitution.”

Much as she knew she had to play diplomat, Katie was tempted to just toss the woman out on her ear. “As far as we know,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “the clothes were stolen by whoever… whoever did this. You’re free to file a report with the Sheriff’s Office and your insurance company.”

“I’m not insured,” Polly snapped.

Neither were most of the other vendors, Katie knew, as the yearly premiums were likely to exceed their total profits. “I’m very sorry this happened, Polly, but I don’t believe anyone here at Artisans Alley is to blame.”

“You’re just saying that to protect Edie Silver because she’s your
friend
.” She made that final word sound like an insult.

“Is there a possibility someone outside Artisans Alley is angry at you?” Katie asked.

Polly froze. Her eyes bulged and a blush colored her cheeks. For a moment Katie was sure Polly would explode, but then she looked away.

“No. There’s no one I can think of who’d—” But her voice faltered. Polly abruptly turned, stuffing the doll into a canvas bag. She slammed the cabinet door shut. Without the weight of the glass, it bounced open again. Without another word, she stalked off in the direction of the stairs.

Katie lagged behind, glancing up at the timbered joists. The cord nooses had been hung from nails pounded into
the low ceiling at irregular intervals. Edie was much too short to do it without a ladder. Six-foot Polly, on the other hand…

It would be just like Polly to set Edie up for a fall.

Katie had meant to tell Polly that Edie would vacate her booth within days, but instead she’d chickened out. She’d had enough of the woman for one day.

By the time she’d returned to the main showroom, Polly was gone, and the door to the vendor entrance was wide open to the cold April breeze.