Stitch Me Deadly, page 15
“No,” I said, “I’ve never wanted to be a part of that.”
“Well, if you work with him, you will be. You can’t help but be, darling. Guilt by association, birds of a feather, yadda, yadda.”
I smiled. “I get what you’re saying. No matter what, people would think I was profiting from whatever smarmy deal Devon Reed might make.”
“Precisely.”
“What about Ella’s belief that Ivy is a person?” I asked.
“She may have something there. Did Louisa and her granddaughter get along well? If not, perhaps Louisa was searching for another relative—one she preferred over Eleanor—to leave her fortune to.” She shrugged. “When I get to be in my late eighties or nineties, you’d better be especially nice to me.”
“I’m especially nice to you now,” I said.
She grinned. “Yeah, but I have to work with what I’ve got. It’ll be interesting to see if Cary’s mother remembers anything when she sees the sampler.”
“I agree. If their great-grandmother made the sampler, I imagine it hung in someone’s house—their grandmother’s, maybe—for years. Wouldn’t you think?”
“Yeah, I would.” Mom turned to look at the sampler. “It appears that someone treasured that sampler and took excellent care of it.”
“Until, of course, someone ripped out the original verse and put in the quote about the ivy.”
“But even that was done with care,” Mom said.
“I hope Ms. Ellis remembers the original verse,” I said, “and that she can tell us who changed it and why.”
Mom grinned. “You’re expecting a lot from the old gal, you know. She might not remember a thing.”
“Remember what Cary said? He said she remembers what happened far in the past better than she can recall what she had for lunch. After tasting one of her cook’s lunches, I can’t imagine anyone forgetting those.”
Chapter Nineteen
Ted insisted on driving himself to the Ellis house. He said he needed to have his own transportation on hand in case he was called in by Chief Singh. I rode with him in his black Impala, and we followed Cary and Mom.
“This really does feel weird, doesn’t it?” I asked. “Here I wanted to do something to thank you for all your help, and this is what I come up with.”
Ted laughed. “It’ll be fun. Besides, maybe we can gain some better insights into Louisa Ralston’s life.”
“I hope so. Do you know if the Tallulah County police have any other leads—besides me, of course?”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. And neither do I, for that matter. The woman apparently led an exemplary life. She was charitable, everyone seemed to like her, she provided for all her relatives in her will. . . .” He shrugged. “There’s no motive.”
I sighed and rested my head against the back of the seat. “Maybe it’s about me. Maybe ruining me is the motive, and Mrs. Ralston was simply the first victim to come along on the morning of the attack.”
“But you didn’t know Mrs. Ralston,” Ted said. “If I planned to ruin you by making it appear you’d killed someone, I’d kill someone close to you and plant possible motives.”
“Someone close to me,” I murmured. “Like Jill, maybe?”
“Exactly like Jill. She’d be the perfect victim if somebody wanted to set you up. You work with her every day, and she stands right there at the register. You could have conceivably caught her with her hand in the till, and a person could kill her without having her death on his conscience because she’s an inanimate object.”
I faked a gasp. “You’d better never let Jill hear you talking like that.”
“Something tells me that unlike a certain person I’ll do the courtesy not to name, she wouldn’t get all sassy and self-righteous if I did tell her,” he said.
“Tell her she’s an inanimate object or that she’d be the perfect murder victim? She’d get sassy about that if she could.” I giggled. “We really are actors in a screwball comedy, aren’t we? We’re following my mother and her boyfriend to his mother’s house, and we’re discussing why my mannequin would make the perfect murder victim.”
He held up his index finger. “The perfect murder victim if someone was trying to frame you.”
“Right. When what we really need to determine is whose perfect victim was Mrs. Ralston?” I shook my head. “There has to be a motive somewhere, Ted. Someone had to have it in for her personally.”
“And don’t forget Adam Gray,” he said. “He was Mrs. Ralston’s trusted adviser, and the same method was used. He had to have been killed for the same reason. We just have to figure out what it is.”
“Is there any way you can poke around in Mr. Gray’s office?”
“Out of my jurisdiction, remember? And Tallulah County is being fairly tight-lipped.” He glanced at me. “But we’ll figure it out, all right?”
“If you say so.”
The drive to Ms. Ellis’ house was a fairly quick one. We detoured only once, to pick up dinner, and Ted and I sat in the car parked beside Cary’s Mercedes while he and Mom went into the Chinese restaurant to get the food.
Ms. Ellis had a beautiful home. It was easy to imagine Cary growing up here and becoming more and more enamored of the thought of being like Cary Grant. The large white house had a Spanish influence with arched windows and doorways and a red tile roof. The lawn was immaculate, and even though it was winter, I could see where flower beds had been primed for spring.
Mom, Ted, and I followed Cary inside. A tiny wisp of a woman with silver hair and blue eyes came to meet us in the foyer. She was wearing a high-necked tea-length aquamarine dress and a strand of pearls knotted at the bottom.
“Hello, my dears,” she said. “Thank you for coming and for bringing dinner. Isabel has the night off, you know.”
“I do know,” Cary said. “Is Chinese all right, Mother?”
“Chinese will be wonderful,” she said, with a smile. “I haven’t had it since the last Friday evening you brought dinner.”
Cary shrugged at Mom. “So, I’m predictable.” He then introduced us all around.
I felt myself drawn to Ms. Ellis immediately. I could see the resemblance between her and her sister, but I felt that in their younger days, Ms. Ellis probably outshone even Louisa. She had an impish charm that made her eyes sparkle, and there was the perpetual hint of a smile around her mouth. I just hoped she would be able to tell me something that would help me figure out who had killed her sister.
“Come on into the dining room,” she said. “I’ve got everything set up for us.”
The table was made to seat eight, and Ms. Ellis had placed the plates, silverware, and glasses so that we were in the seats facing each other, with no one seated at the ends of the table.
“Cary, dear, would you pour the bubble tea?” she asked.
He laughed. “You knew I was bringing Chinese, then, eh?”
“Of course.” Ms. Ellis winked at me. “Have you ever had bubble tea, Marcy?”
“No, I haven’t. What is it?”
“It’s a wonderful Asian tea made with tapioca pearls,” she said. “I make my own.”
Cary poured us all a cup of bubble tea, and Ms. Ellis watched us expectantly as we took our first sip. It was very sweet and quite good.
“Will you share the recipe?” I asked.
“Yes. Remind me to give it to you before you leave.”
“I’m terribly sorry about your sister, Ms. Ellis,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry, too. We talked every day, and I miss her so much.”
“I’m sure you do,” I said, removing my napkin from my plate to allow Cary to spoon sweet and sour chicken onto it. I wanted to ask Ms. Ellis if she knew anyone who would want to harm her sister, but now didn’t seem the appropriate time.
“You’re looking well today, Mother,” Cary said. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I have epilepsy,” she explained to the rest of us. “He fusses over me as if I’m a five-year-old. Beverly, Cary tells me you’re a costume designer.” She grinned. “I gave Cary the name Carrington Grant because I fell head over heels for Cary Grant in An Affair to Remember. Not like I was in love with my husband, Richard; it was just a silly crush. Do you ever fall victim to those?”
Mom laughed. “Do I ever! Marcella had better be glad she was a girl. Otherwise, she’d have had a name as long as the Orient Express. Let’s see, Robert Redford Paul Newman Gregory Harrison James Dean Michael Landon Singer, maybe?”
“That is as long as the Orient Express,” Cary said. “And rather than Marcy, we’d have called her Bobby Dean?”
“Bobby Dean Singer?” Ted asked. “Change the y to an ie, and that would still work.”
I put up my hands. “No, thank you. Besides, I’m way too old for a name change.”
“Who are you named after, Ted?” Ms. Ellis asked.
“I’m named after my father, Theodore Nash Sr.”
She chuckled. “I was lucky to be the younger daughter. Louisa was named after Uncle Louis, who always smelled like fish and cigars. I was named Millicent—or Millie—after our great-grandmother. I never met the lady myself, but Mother told me Grandma Millie always smelled of sugar cookies and talcum powder.” She nodded at me. “I’m looking forward to seeing that sampler you brought. Mother had it hanging in our kitchen for years.”
After dinner, Cary took Mom and Ted on a tour of the house while I showed the framed sampler to Ms. Ellis. She looked at it lovingly, and I could see that it took her back to her childhood. A faint smile played around her lips as she ran her hand tenderly over the frame. Then she appeared to read the verse and her smile turned into a frown.
“Did you change the verse?” she asked.
“No. I think Louisa must have. Do you remember the original verse?”
“Of course. It was from Proverbs 31.” She wrinkled her brow. “Verses 28 and 29, if I’m not mistaken. It was, ‘Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.’ Grandma Millie made it for her mother.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said. “Why would Louisa change that? Does it have anything to do with ivy? When your sister came into my shop that morning, she was asking me to help her find ivy. I wonder now if Ivy might be a person.”
“Hmm . . . I don’t recall anyone named Ivy,” Ms. Ellis said. “But I’ll dwell on it a bit and see if I can remember anything.”
“Why don’t you keep this?” I asked. “You can put it in your own kitchen. I could just frame a photo of it for the shop.”
“No, thank you. I appreciate the thought, dear, truly I do. But I’m afraid it appears Louisa has ruined it because of her hatred of Edward.”
“I . . . I b-beg your pardon?” I asked.
“The verse,” she said. “Cary said Louisa had replaced the original verse, but he didn’t tell me she’d replaced it with this drivel.”
I was sitting beside her, and I looked at the verse to try to determine what had made it so offensive to Ms. Ellis.
His friends were those of his own blood or
those whom he had known the longest;
his affections, like ivy, were the growth of time,
they implied no aptness in the object.
That Louisa had taken out the verse her great-grandmother had so lovingly dedicated to her mother could be part of it. To replace a Bible verse with a quote from The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde could certainly factor in. But there was something more . . . something to do with Edward.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Do you think this verse has something to do with Edward Larkin?”
“You know about him, then? He broke her heart, and I can understand her anger toward him. But I don’t know why she’d ruin Grandma Millie’s sampler over him.”
I frowned. “How does this verse have anything to do with Edward Larkin?”
“The quote is from that Robert Louis Stevenson story about Edward Hyde,” she said. “He was the horrible alter ego of Henry Jekyll. Apparently, Louisa felt that her Edward was a Jekyll and Hyde himself. And after he left her, she must’ve felt compelled to keep a constant reminder of Edward’s villainy.”
“You really think that’s all there is to this verse?” I asked. “You don’t think it has anything to do with ivy?”
“Ivy . . .” Ms. Ellis seemed to stare at a spot just behind me. “I don’t . . . No, I don’t think so.” She snapped herself out of her reverie. “What were we saying?”
I bit my lip. Was there a more delicate way to put this than to just blurt it out? I couldn’t think of one. And I knew Cary would be bringing Mom and Ted back momentarily. “Ms. Ellis, do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt your sister?”
“No. Everybody liked Louisa,” she said. “Well, everybody except that blasted Edward Larkin. I don’t know why he had to go off and leave her after promising he would marry her. She was so heartbroken that she left us and worked in Seattle for two years.” She shook her head. “It was a terrible business.”
“What about Adam Gray?”
“Oh, yes, I know Adam. He’s a nice man. I believe he’d have been a good match for Louisa had she ever paid him any mind.” She smiled. “Sometimes we don’t see what’s right in front of us, do we?” She looked down at the sampler tenderly. “Thank you for bringing this. It holds a lot of memories.”
“Are you sure you won’t keep it?” I asked.
“Oh, no, Marcy. Not all the memories it dredges up are good ones. Here.” As she handed the sampler back to me, I chipped a nail on the corner of the frame. “I’m sorry to be so clumsy. I’ve gone and broken your nail.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Ms. Ellis.”
“There’s a bathroom down that hallway—first door on your right,” she said. “You’ll find a nail file in the medicine cabinet.”
“Thank you.” I slid my chair back from the table and went down the hall to the bathroom. It was odd to go through someone else’s medicine cabinet—I felt as if I was snooping—but I opened the door and spotted the nail file. I repaired my broken nail, and as I put the nail file back on the shelf, I accidentally knocked a medicine bottle to the floor. I picked it up to put it back where it belonged and noticed the label.
Halumet.
Chapter Twenty
It was raining when Ted drove me home, and the rhythmic swish-swoosh sound of the windshield wipers was almost hypnotic. I’d told him about my inadvertent discovery of Halumet in Ms. Ellisʹ medicine cabinet, and we were discussing what it could mean.
“Had she been guilty of anything, she wouldn’t have directed you to that medicine cabinet for a nail file,” Ted said.
“I agree, but it does make me concerned about Cary.” I sighed. “I wish Mom had agreed to come back with us.”
“So do I, but you came at us all out of left field with that suggestion. ‘Hey, I know! Why don’t you ride back with us, Mom, so Cary can stay here a while longer with Ms. Ellis?’”
“I do not talk like that,” I said.
“Agreed. But it was the best I could do.” Ted tilted his chin. “If Cary lived with his mother, it might make more sense, but he has an apartment closer to his store, right?”
“You mean, for Mom to have ridden back with us or for him to be a suspect in Mrs. Ralston’s death?” I asked.
“Both. As a police officer, I keep going back to motive. The man doesn’t have one, as far as I can tell. Mrs. Ralston remembered him in her will and gave him a tidy sum of money. That’s more than most nephews get.”
“True,” I said. “But who else had access to Ms. Ellis’ house? And why was there Halumet in her medicine cabinet?”
“Ms. Ellis told us she had epilepsy. Certain central nervous system depressants are used to treat or prevent epileptic seizures, and I imagine Halumet is one of them,” he said. “As for who has access to Ms. Ellis’ medicine cabinet, it’s hard to say. We know she has a cook. She probably has nursing assistants come in on a regular basis.”
“So it gives us another lead?” I asked.
He smiled. “It gives us a terrific lead, and I’ll be sure to pass my information along to Detectives Ray and Bailey.”
He pulled into my driveway. Mom and Cary hadn’t left when we did, but Mom had promised to be along soon. He cut off the engine and told me to sit tight. I thought he was merely being chivalrous until I noticed him looking all around the property as he made his way to my side of the car.
He opened the door and offered me his hand. I took it and said, “What a gentleman.”
“Good breeding,” he replied, continuing to look around the property.
Angus began barking from the backyard.
“Be there in a minute, Angus,” I called.
Ted walked me to the front door. I took out my keys and unlocked the door. As I flipped on the lights and dropped my purse on the hall table, I noticed Ted’s gaze taking in every aspect of the foyer and the living room.
“What?” I asked.
He looked down at me. “What?”
“You became my bodyguard the second you pulled into the driveway,” I said. “Do you think I’m in danger?”
“I doubt it,” he said, “but it’s not a chance I’m willing to take. And you shouldn’t, either.” He placed his hands lightly at my waist. “Please be extra careful until this mess is resolved.”
“I will.”
I knew he wanted to kiss me and that he was waiting for me to give him a sign that I wanted him to. Did I want him to? I’d been trying to keep my distance from both him and Todd, but sometimes I realized how nice it would be to have a relationship again. I looked up at Ted, who stood well above a foot taller than me . . . his dark hair with the prematurely gray “highlights” . . . those blue eyes. One little kiss wouldn’t really hurt, would it?
I stepped in closer. “Thank you.”
His hands slid around my back and he bent forward to touch his lips to mine. I stood on my tiptoes to slide my hands up his muscular shoulders and around his neck as we kissed.
