Deadly Greetings Part 10

"Jennifer, I'm afraid you're mistaken. I didn't send you flowers, and I won't ever in the future, not if this is the way you react to them."

That stopped me. "What do you mean you didn't send them? If they weren't from you, who are they from?"

Barrett reached into the crumpled bouquet and s.n.a.t.c.hed out a card. "I'm willing to wager the name of your admirer is in here. Shall I read it to you?"

I s.n.a.t.c.hed the card out of his hand; then after a moment's hesitation, I collected the flowers, too. "Sorry. It was an honest mistake."

"I'd love to stand out here in the hallway and chat, but I've got company."

I rolled my eyes. "Tell Penny I said hi."

I was halfway up the stairs when I heard him say, "It's not Penny."

"Don't brag about your conquests to me," I said just as an older man stepped through Barrett's door.

"Jennifer, say h.e.l.lo to my father."

"Hi," I said as I ducked around the corner. The older gentleman looked amused by the display, and as I fumbled with my door key, I heard him ask Barrett, "Is that the one you were telling me about?"

"Charming, isn't she?"

Why wouldn't my stupid key fit into the stupid lock?

I finally got it, then bolted inside just in time to hear the elder say, "Well, she's got fire, I'll say that for her."

I tried not to slam the door, but I couldn't help myself. After all, I might as well live up to the reputation. Ten seconds later something pounded on my floor, and I could hear my downstairs neighbor, the thoroughly unpleasant Mr. Wallace, shout, "Quiet! You're disturbing my peace."

I wanted to shout something back at him, but he was right. I hadn't been much of a new neighbor, even if he had started things off on the wrong foot. I made myself a promise to try to be quieter and see if I could at least get along with one of my fellow tenants. Barrett was hopeless. His smug expression was still in my mind when my roommates sashayed up to me. "Hi, you felons. What have you two been up to today?"

Oggie rubbed against my legs and I picked him up, stroking his fur. Though Nash loved attention too, he wouldn't deign to offer such an overt expression of affection for me. I played with both of them for a few minutes, fed them, then headed back for the door. That's when I remembered the flowers. Several of the daisies were broken, hanging precariously by their stems, while most of the baby's breath and ferns were most likely still on Barrett's doorstep. I worked with them a few seconds trying to salvage something, but they were hopeless. I owed whoever had sent them an apology. I dug the card out of my jacket pocket and read the note. It said, "From Your Not So Secret Admirer," but that wasn't what creeped me out. It was signed "WD," and there was only one person in all of Rebel Forge I knew with those initials: Wayne Davidson, the deputy who wouldn't go away. I thought about calling Bradford, but that would lead to a conversation I didn't have time for just then. I'd tell him later, but for the moment I had other things to do that needed my full attention. I grabbed the flowers and threw them in the trash cans outside and thought about adding the card but changed my mind. I might need it as evidence if Wayne's behavior escalated. Hopefully he'd gotten it out of his system, but I wasn't taking any bets. I planned to take Bradford's advice and watch my back until the situation was resolved, hopefully by Wayne leaving Virginia altogether.

I was still a little shook up by the time I got back to the card shop, and Lillian could tell the second I walked in the door that something was wrong.

"What happened, Jennifer?"

I didn't want to tell her; I didn't want to talk about it to anyone. Talking somehow made it real. But I had no choice. "There were flowers waiting for me when I got to my apartment."

"How delightful," she said.

"Read the card." I handed it to her and watched her expression. Her smile vanished quickly. "What does Bradford think you should do?"

"I don't know, because I'm not telling him, and neither are you. Not tonight, anyway."

Lillian frowned. "Jennifer, you know I'm not your brother's biggest fan-we've had plenty of differences in the past-but he is the sheriff."

I took the card back from her and tucked it in my pocket, then thought better of it. I didn't want that thing in physical contact with me if I could help it. I pinned it to the board in back of the register so I could deal with it later. "Lillian, we're not going to talk about this right now. Do you understand?"

She neatened a stack of paper on the worktable. "I understand, but I don't agree. He might be more dangerous than you realize."

"Lillian, I said drop it." The last thing I needed was a vision of Wayne Davidson lurking in the shadows while I was trying to find Maggie's killer and run a shop, too. I'd meant it. I would tell my brother soon, but not right away.

To my surprise, my aunt didn't say another word, I though I knew she had to be burning inside to talk about it. It was funny, but our relationship had started to change since she'd come to work at Custom Card Creations. She treated me more and more as an equal than a young foal in need of protection. I liked it, and wasn't about to go back to the way things had been before. "Now let's get ready for our meeting. Where should we hide the board?"

"I don't think we should hide it at all," Lillian said. "I've been thinking since you were gone. If we leave it out where everyone can see it, our questions will be a perfect way to open the inquiry. What do you think?"

I took the whiteboard and slid it behind the counter where no one could see it. "We don't want to alert the killer if we can help it, remember? Tonight calls for subtlety."

"Never my strong suit," Lillian said. "I'm a woman of action, direct and intense."

I laughed, despite the cares on my shoulders. "I wouldn't recognize you if you were any other way. Though it might work in your love life, it's not going to do us much good tonight."

"You'd be amazed by how productive a direct question can be, Jennifer. You should try it sometime."

"I'm normally a big fan of straight talking myself, but not tonight." I glanced over at the papers and the two embossers Lillian had laid out. "Do you want a little practice before the club gets here?"

"Goodness no, I've mastered it. After all, it's not that difficult, is it?"

"No, ma'am," I said, happy that my aunt's confidence in her card-making skills had grown since she'd been working at the shop. "Would you like to lead the demonstration tonight?" We always started with a demo of the new tool or technique, then everyone else had a chance to try whatever we were doing.

"Are you out of your mind? I get stage fright when there are more than two people in the room. No, I'll let you handle that."

Speaking in public had never bothered me, for some odd reason. I could remember leading the Pledge of Allegiance at school when I'd been in first grade in the auditorium, and I'd had so much fun, I'd begged Mrs. Ashire to let me do it again on the spot.

"I wonder if Hilda's still bringing the snacks tonight. I forgot to ask her." We rotated our snack provider among members, since I was supplying the tools and papers.

Lillian spoke curtly. "Can you honestly imagine her forgetting? Hilda is a model of efficiency."

I knew the two women didn't get along, one of those dreaded personality conflicts that no one could explain or understand. "Why don't you leave questioning her to me?" I said.

"I'd be happy to. Since Dot is out of town, I'll take the dynamic duo." That was our secret name for Howard and Betty Hudson, a long-married couple that acted as if they were one person instead of two, to the point of interrupting each other in mid-conversation and taking over without missing a single beat.

"That would be great," I said just as there was a knock at the door. Hilda was standing outside, a tray of something in her hands. Though she was never a fashion plate, Hilda's stocky form was dressed in black, and I wondered if I should have changed when I'd been home. Oh well, it was too late now.

I opened the door and said, "Come in. Can I help you with that?"

She shoved the platter into my hands. "That would be great. I've got two more trips. We shouldn't go hungry tonight, should we?"

I waited for Lillian to offer to help, but when I realized she wasn't going to, I shoved the platter into her hands and said, "We'll be right back."

I followed Hilda outside, and when the shop door was closed, she said, "I know she doesn't much care for me."

"Lillian is a hard woman to read," I said, struggling for something to say that wasn't a direct confirmation of Hilda's on-target a.s.sessment.

She laughed. "Come on, Jennifer, I know she's your aunt. I wasn't expecting you to agree with me."

"Believe me, I'm the first to admit that Lillian can be an acquired taste," I said carefully.

"Can't we all? You know, there are some women on this earth I just have a tough time getting along with. I've always been fiercely independent, even when Karl was alive, but I would have stayed with that man forever. I've never been able to understand women who go from one husband to another as if they're collecting trophies along the way."

I stopped for a second, and Hilda looked at me with concern. "Jennifer, I'm sorry. That was out of line, and I apologize. Blast my mouth, I've grown too used to saying what's on my mind."

"There's something you should understand about my aunt," I said. "She was deeply in love with her first husband. I can still remember them holding hands after twenty years of marriage. When he had a heart attack, we all wondered if it would have been kinder to bury Lillian with him; she was that lost. Hilda, since then, she's been trying to replace him, and failing at it. You've been strong enough to go on alone, but my aunt has never been the type of woman who could do that. I'm not saying it's a flaw, mind you; it's just the way she's wired. So take it easy on her, okay?"

Hilda mumbled something and started walking again. Wonderful, Jennifer, you've managed to step in it again. If I took half the time I spent trying to make the world get along better and devoted it to my own life, I'd be the most successful woman in all of Virginia. As we loaded up our arms at Hilda's car and walked back to the shop, I tried half a dozen times to make light conversation, but my card-making friend wasn't having any of it. If I ran her off, I'd never be able to forgive myself. As we neared the shop, I tried one last time. "Hilda, sometimes I have a big mouth, too."

Great. I'd planned it better in my head, but then I blurted out the backhanded apology.

Hilda just shook her head sadly, and I knew in my heart that I'd failed. I pounded at the door with my foot, and Betty Hudson let me in. Betty was a slight, pet.i.te woman with a full head of gray hair and a steady smile on her face, though it was gone tonight. From the look of her eyes, I could tell that she'd been crying. I hadn't realized that she and Maggie had been that close. I saw her husband, Howard, in deep conversation with Lillian. He wore a bright knit sweater over his rotund form that made me feel better about my own clothing choices.

"Let me help you with that," she said as she took the large Tupperware container from me. I held the door so Hilda could come in, then locked it behind her. I'd been trying to add on to the club, and Daniel might join later, but for now, I just wanted to deal with the original members. Flipping the sign to closed, I joined the rest of them at the card table where Lillian had set up the first tray. I always found it ironic that we ate at the card table and made cards on the other table, but I refrained yet again from commenting on it. Instead, I said, "What a lovely sweater, Howard." closed, I joined the rest of them at the card table where Lillian had set up the first tray. I always found it ironic that we ate at the card table and made cards on the other table, but I refrained yet again from commenting on it. Instead, I said, "What a lovely sweater, Howard."

His cheeks reddened slightly as he said, "Maggie made it for me for my birthday. I can't believe she's gone."

At that, Betty mumbled, "Excuse me," and bolted for the bathroom in back.

Howard looked at us all apologetically. "She's been like that since we got the news. I don't know what to do."

I started to go back to the bathroom when Lillian said, "I'll talk to her."

Hilda surprised us all when she said, "I'll go with you."

Lillian certainly didn't know how to react. "Perhaps it would be better if you dealt with her yourself. After all, you've been friends a great deal longer than I've known either one of you."

Hilda locked her arm in Lillian's. "Nonsense. You're a part of this group, too."

Lillian had no choice but to be dragged into the back. I didn't know what Hilda was up to, but at least it didn't look like I'd driven her away. If the circ.u.mstances for our meeting hadn't been so dire, I would have had a tough time not laughing aloud at the sight of my aunt doing anything in this world she didn't want to do.

That left Howard and me standing by the food. He looked over the opened trays, then said, "I know we probably should wait, but I haven't had much to eat lately."

Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "Are you on one of those new diets?"

He patted his stomach, and if Howard took offense by my abrupt question, he didn't show it. "No, it's not that, but I never really learned to cook, and Betty seems to have lost interest in it altogether."

"She's really taking it hard, isn't she? I didn't realize you'all were that close."

He bit his upper lip for a moment, then said, "Closer than you might think. Jennifer, I need a bit of air. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," I said. "I'll join you. It's a beautiful night." It was chilly out, but I'd never minded the cold. Despite living in the South, we got our share of snow, being so close to the mountains, and I always reveled in the change of seasons.

"If you don't mind, I'd rather be alone."

That was plain enough. I unlocked the door and Howard could barely wait to bolt through it. The three women walked back in as I was securing the door again.

"Where's Howard?" Betty asked.

"He said he needed some air," I explained.

"He's not running away from this," Betty said firmly. "Stay by the door. I'll be right back."

I felt like the doorman at the Sherman Arms Hotel as I let her out, too. I wanted to discuss Howard's odd comments with Lillian, but Hilda was entrenched beside her. I wasn't sure what she was up to, but she was certainly being earnest about it. We could all hear Betty calling to her husband, and there was a whip in her voice I'd never suspected. In two minutes, we were gathered together again.

I met each of their gazes, then said, "Thank you all for coming. I was surprised when Hilda insisted we have our regular meeting tonight, but now that we're gathered here, I believe it was the right thing to do." I wasn't about to mention Maggie's card to Hilda to the group, let alone the one I'd received myself.

Hilda did it for me. "They all know about my card, Jennifer. It's how I got them here." She looked sideways at Howard, which caught me by surprise. If anyone had needed convincing to show up, I would have bet my next-to-last dime that it would have been Betty.

It was time to get started. "I've got a demonstration set up, if you'all would like to make some cards, or we could just eat instead."

Betty spoke up, her voice strong and clear. "I don't think we should change anything," she said, and no one else was about to disagree with her.

I moved to the table and picked up one of the embossers. "We just got these in, and Lillian and I have been having a lot of fun playing with them." As I explained the layering and pinning procedures, I tried my best to be enthusiastic, but it was tough with Maggie's ghostly laughter hanging in the air around us. She'd embraced our little card-making sessions even more than I did, gleefully making mistakes and learning as she kept us all entertained with her wild and outlandish stories.

I embossed a sample vine pattern on a sheet of smooth card stock and handed it around. "Isn't it lovely?"

Hilda took the sheet after everyone else had seen it and said, "I used to do this for my sc.r.a.pbook pages. Jennifer, do you mind if I show you another trick?"

"Be my guest," I said. It was our custom to dive in if any of us had something to add, and I'd easily learned as much from the club as I'd managed to teach them myself.

She walked over to one of the aisles and grabbed a fine paintbrush and some gold paint. "It just takes a light touch, so I won't use much."

"You're the teacher," I said.

Hilda put a little paint on a paper towel, then lightly touched her brush to it. "You need a gentle hand for this." She stroked the paintbrush across the top of the card, barely touching it. When she showed us the results, I could see that the embossed areas were highlighted with the gold, while the brown stock I'd chosen remained untouched.

"That's beautiful," I said.

Everyone had to try their hands at it after that, and soon we were chattering away again. It was almost as if Maggie's spirit was with us, urging us to have fun in her memory instead of waste a single second mourning her.

By the time we were ready to eat, the tension in the air had nearly dissipated, and I almost hated to ruin it by grilling any of my friends, but I'd made a promise to Maggie, even though it had been after her death, and I was going to follow through on it.

Chapter 9.

"It's hard to believe Maggie's gone," I said to Howard as we nibbled on the crab puffs Hilda had brought. I'd been trying to get started with my interrogations, but it was hard to get any one member alone.

"I can barely believe it myself. I've known her for years," he said.

"So did Betty know her equally well?" I asked, hoping to come up with some way to focus the conversation on my investigation.

He shrugged, trying to dismiss my line of questioning, but I couldn't stop there.

"Were you surprised when you heard it was an accident?" I watched his reaction, hoping for something that would tell me what was on his mind. He was too good at masking his emotions, though.