| |
Normally, I would have taken time to admire the window displays at the Feathered Nest before going into the holiday open house, but I was still bummed about what I’d just seen outside Sombrero. And at the moment, I was more concerned with escaping the monsoon roaring around us. Justin let me out in front of the shop’s door and promised to join me shortly.
I stepped into the store, and it was a different scene entirely. Ah. The scents of peppermint candles and simmering hot chocolate mingled pleasantly in the air.
“Have a sip of this and get warm.” Michele rushed up and stuck a paper cup of cocoa into my hand.
“It’s not that cold outside, just messy and wet.” I wiped away a few raindrops snaking down my neck.
“Here.” Michele used a golden paper napkin with a cornucopia on it to wipe the last of the rain off my arms. I’d worn a ruby-red blouse with three-quarter-length sleeves because it allowed me to show off one of my red Christmas necklaces, but I hadn’t planned on getting drenched on the way in.
“Thanks.” I smiled as she tossed the wet napkin into a wastebasket behind the counter. “I know we’ve needed the rain, but sheesh, it could have held off until your open house was over.”
“Definitely agree with you there, and—Austin! Don’t touch that cheese ball!”
Michele dashed behind the counter, where her three-year-old had his fingers poised above a pumpkin-shaped mound of cream cheese with a bell-pepper stem. “No, son.” She took his hand, walked out from behind the counter, and headed over to Wells, who’d been engrossed in a conversation with a couple near a display of Christmas candles. She tapped his shoulder. “Honey, would you mind keeping an eye on him?”
Wells scooped up the little boy.
“I told you if you don’t watch him like a hawk, he’ll get into everything.”
“Sorry, dear.” Wells cradled their son. “We’ll head to your office and look for a lollipop. How about that, son?”
Austin nodded.
Michele grinned and shook her head. “I knew he was going to be a handful, but Wells was bored and didn’t want to stay home with him tonight when our sitter canceled on us at the last minute.” She paused to admire my necklace and glanced at the table where my jewelry was displayed. “This reminds me—I’ve sold several of your sets already today, so keep an eye on your inventory. I predict we’ll need to restock again soon.”
“Will do. But please don’t mind me. Don’t you need to get back to your guests?” A sweep of the room revealed that Michele already had a few dozen people packed inside.
“You’re my guest, too, you know. And I thought you said Justin was coming.”
“He’s parking the car and should be here any minute.”
She grinned then lowered her voice. “You won’t believe who’s just past the alcove and in the next room. It’s Harriet and Hubert.” Her eyes traced their path through the shop. “They never spend any money downtown. Just here to scope out the competition, no doubt.”
I felt someone bump against my back and turned around. “Oh, hey, Martha.”
“Good to see you, Emma.” She held up a tiny paper cup. “Have you tried some of these salted-caramel pecans? Mighty tasty.”
I shook my head. “I just got here, but Michele told me about the recipe. Pretty good, huh?”
“Yes, and I may have to grab another sample or two before I go.”
Martha walked on to get her refill. Michele winked at me as, obviously determined to spread the holiday cheer, she headed over to the Harrises with a tray of cookies. I had taken a peppermint macaron myself before Martha made another run on the platter.
The teenage girl serving refreshments smiled shyly. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, this is plenty, but thanks.” After that hearty lunch at Mama’s and dinner at The Loft, I wouldn’t need to eat again for a week, but no one could resist a sweet treat during the holidays.
I glanced around the store, and quite a few friends had stopped by to join in the fun. Trish and Shareta were there.
Evelyn from the Roseland PD carried an armload of soaps and candles to the checkout counter. “You’ll hold these till I finish shopping, won’t you?”
Michele nodded eagerly. “Absolutely. And don’t forget to draw a coupon out of the basket here.” She gestured toward a large red wicker basket shaped like a sleigh. “Everybody gets a discount tonight. At least ten percent off, and two of the coupons are for fifty percent off.”
Evelyn beamed. “If I’ve already saved ten percent, I’m getting another candle for myself. As much as I’m spending on everyone else tonight, I deserve something too.”
Michele always hosted the first holiday open house in Roseland, and she knew how to get a head start with holiday shoppers. She had as much decor for fall as she did for Christmas. Thanksgiving was still a few weeks away, and the Feathered Nest offered velvet pumpkins, gorgeous golden ceramic pie plates, wooden cutting boards in the shape of Georgia—which were disappearing fast, thanks to the popularity of charcuterie boards—and of course, candles.
“What? You’re not checking out the jewelry bling?”
Inwardly, I sighed, but I turned around with a smile plastered on my face. “Hi there, Harriet.”
Her husband, Hubert, stuck out a hand. “Always good to see you, Emma.”
“I wouldn’t miss one of Michele’s open houses. Last year, she had some gift wrap that was perfect for my jewelry customers, and if I hadn’t been here that night, I would have missed out. Look at how many folks have their shopping baskets full already.”
Harriet peered around the room and nodded. “’Tis the season. We’ve already seen an uptick at the antique mall too. Everybody’s buying new furniture in time for Thanksgiving, for some reason. Which reminds me.” She turned to Hubert. “What was that woman telling you when she left today? The one who picked up the Hepplewhite chairs?”
Hubert, whom I’d gotten to know during another recent murder investigation, caught my eye. “Oh yeah.” He lowered his voice. “You know how the people at the antique mall tell us everything. So”—he looked between Harriet and me—“this gal who was in today tells me the Miranda Hargrove killer is still on the warpath and even broke in on Caitlyn at the Happy Hometown office last night.”
I bit my lip. “Is that right?”
Hubert nodded. “That’s what she said. The police were called, so that’s how the word got out.”
“Hmm” was my noncommittal reply.
Harriet peered at me as if I puzzled her. “For a gal who used to be a newspaper reporter, you sure don’t seem to know much about what’s going on these days.”
I stifled a laugh and changed the subject. “The jewelry business keeps me plenty busy, and I’m up to my ears in Christmas orders. You guys are probably busy selling more holiday items, too, aren’t you?”
Hubert jumped in. “Boy, are we. If I had a hundred vintage aluminum Christmas trees, I’d still have a waiting list of people who want them.”
I had to smile. “Some people like those vintage decorations. I may obsess over vintage jewelry, but when Christmas rolls around, I want to smell the needles on a live tree. Besides, I don’t like getting shocked by static electricity from a fake tree that looks like aluminum foil.”
Eyes twinkling, Harriet said, “Christmas is my favorite time of year, and I’m with you on the trees. We sell a bunch of fake ones every year, and the bigger, the better, but I think they’re hideous.”
Hubert patted her arm. “Now, don’t say that too loudly, sweetheart. If any of these fine shoppers want a fake tree, I want to sell them one.”
She rolled her eyes. “And considering what happened in Roseland last week, I want people to start thinking about a merry Christmas, not a Murder, She Wrote Christmas, like some nasty people were talking about on Facebook.”
I grimaced. “They were? That’s tacky.”
Harriet appeared to agree with me. “At any rate, we’ve got plenty of events coming up between now and Thanksgiving to help get everyone in the right frame of mind. Of course, it’d sure be nice to have the crime solved by then.”
“I’m with you.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Justin enter the store and pause to accept a complimentary cup of cocoa. Meanwhile, Michele made a beeline for me, and I was grateful for the rescue I hoped was underway.
Michele stopped beside the Harrises and me and sounded breathless. “Forgive me, folks”—she gave Hubert and Harriet an apologetic smile—“but I need to have a quick word with Emma about some more jewelry I need before Christmas. Do you mind?”
They bowed off, and as Michele and I headed to the jewelry display area, I whispered, “Do you really need me to make some more jewelry, or was that an excuse to get me away from the Harrises?”
“Both.” Michele’s eyes twinkled, and she subtly nudged me to the front of the store, where Justin awaited. “They seemed to be monopolizing you, and I thought you might need a break. But”—she waved at a jewelry rack—“I also noticed that we’ve already sold half a dozen of your new bracelets here tonight.”
I scanned the rack, and she was right. All the Ruby & Doris bracelets had vanished. She was also nearly wiped out of simple silver charm bracelets with soldered hearts made of old Christmas china. Only three were left, so they were going fast too. “That’s terrific. I’ll get going on some more and have them to you by the first of the week.”
Michele smiled. “Perfect. That’s just what I was hoping you would say.”
Peering over my shoulder, she said, “You did come! Great to see you, Justin.”
She gave him a hug, then she turned to me and lowered her voice. “So, I hear that someone tried to attack Caitlyn last night, and somehow Gerald was there and got hurt. Do you know anything about it?”
“Yeah, and I was there afterward, actually. Caitlyn called me, and when I heard her say the name Gerald and end the call, I thought...”
Michele looked sheepish. “Mama in the freezer?”
“Or Caitlyn in the freezer. At least, that’s what I was worried was about to happen. By the time I got there, police were already on the scene, and Gerald was still knocked out cold.”
“What was he doing there, then?”
“Caitlyn said he came by to copy the minutes from the last board meeting, so unless another tenant in that building was working late, she doesn’t know how someone got into the building to attack him.”
Michele shook her head. “That’s scary. You have to wonder if they intended to kill Gerald. And maybe Caitlyn too.”
Yet another reason to call Caitlyn as soon as I get home.
“And if I know Gerald, what’s going to bother him the most is that someone else will have to look after his pets while he’s gone.” She snapped her fingers. “Speaking of pets, come over to the counter for a sec.”
I did, and Michele reached beneath the counter and handed me a small bag.
“For me?”
She seemed pleased with herself. “Open it now.”
I pulled out a beautiful glass ornament of a gray Siamese kitty, which bore an incredible resemblance to Miriam Haskell. “She’s perfect! I can’t wait to put her on my tree.”
Michele looked alarmed. “Please tell me you don’t have your tree up yet. Even I don’t put up a tree at home until Thanksgiving night.”
“Nope, no tree yet. And if I don’t get cracking on some jewelry tonight”—I glanced at my watch—“I won’t have time to put up a tree or any other decorations next month.”
I shooed Michele away to mingle with the other customers, and I purchased a few jars of pear-pecan preserves to have on hand for hostess gifts over Thanksgiving and Christmas. I’d told Justin that I couldn’t afford to stay at the open house for longer than thirty minutes, max, because I needed to finish some jewelry designs. He offered to pull the car around for me, but the rain was barely a trickle by the time we walked out.
When we got to my house, the rain had completely stopped, and since I’d confessed I was way behind on jewelry making, Justin walked me to the door and made no move to come in.
“So, this volunteer thing we’re doing tomorrow”—he scratched his cheek—“we’re just going to meet there, and you’ll fill me in on everything?”
“Yep.” I smiled just thinking about it. “And trust me. You’re going to love it.”
We shared a good-night kiss, and I waved him off.
Before I started working on jewelry, I had planned to call Caitlyn to tell her my concerns about her possibly knowing who the killer was, but it sure looked like she’d had a dinner date with Tyler.
I grimaced. Why is he leading Gus on if he isn’t interested in her? I didn’t have an explanation for that.
Even though I didn’t expect Caitlyn to answer, I called her cell phone and left a voicemail asking her to call me when she got in, and although I was up working on jewelry until almost midnight, she never called.
Hoping I would hear from her the next day, I finally climbed into bed and anticipated my favorite volunteer stint of the whole year.