thirty-four

“Why don’t you come on over and have dinner with us?” Thelma suggested. “I know Chad would love to see you.”

“That’s kind of you but I can’t. Not tonight. I’m in charge of the crop. We have twenty-two scrapbookers coming. I need to get projects ready and double-check the arrangements. My boss, Dodie, has cancer. We thought she had it licked, but it’s come back and attacked her brain. There’s a lot to do here at the store, and I’m trying to make life easier on her.”

Thelma sighed. “Puts everything into perspective, doesn’t it? My son is alive. You’re alive. The baby is all right. Sure, this is inconvenient, but we’ll cope with it.”

I smiled to myself. I liked Thelma’s calm, matter of fact approach to life. Actually, Louis was the emotional one in the family. From the outside he seemed like a hard-working farmer, a man who made a living by the sweat of his brow. An updated “American Gothic” with the stoicism common in those who wrestle a living from the earth. After getting to know him better, I understood he was the romantic, the dreamer, the one who suffered emotional highs and lows. Thelma stood quietly by his side, with both her feet planted in terra firma. A clear-headed realist, her hand on Louis’s shoulder kept him heading on the right path.

“Hang on, hon.” She left the phone for a minute. “Chad wanted
to talk to you but poor baby, he wandered off into his old room, fell on the bed, and went to sleep. I tried to rouse him, but he couldn’t do more than grumble at me.”

My heart hurt, thinking of him. The night I’d spent in the county jail had been a nightmare, and no one had paid any particular attention to me. Being a cop behind bars must have scared the living daylights out of him. All it would take was one renegade guard and his cell would change from a safe haven into a trap.

Before Thelma and I said goodbye, I promised I’d come over for an early dinner the next day, Saturday. “When Chad wakes up, tell him … tell him that I love him.”

“I’ll do that, hon. I know that’ll cheer him up. I’m sure he knows how you feel. We can all see it in your eyes. And again, thank you so much for getting us John Henry Schnabel.”

I still couldn’t imagine how Laurel managed to pull that particularly big rabbit out of her hat. The schedule said she would be in at one-thirty to help us prep for the crop. With my gratitude in mind, I decided that for our Monday night crop project we would create a “thank you” card, a note of appreciation. That way I could make two samples and give one to Laurel later today. The project was bound to be a big hit because a lot of our papercrafters love making cards. It’s a great way to practice scrapbooking skills on a small scale, to use up extra paper, and to save money because really nice cards can be pretty expensive.

First I needed to check out our supplies. Fortunately, puttering around in the backroom would keep me out of sight if the reporters were lurking. This was the perfect time to poke into those boxes on our uppermost shelves.

Grabbing the stepladder from the back closet where we kept cleaning supplies, I dragged it over to a unit and pulled down a box. This one had “cards” written on one end in a thick marker, but the handwriting wasn’t familiar to me. It must have been relegated to that top shelf long before I came to work here.

Inside sat unopened packages of plain white greeting cards with matching envelopes. “Perfect!”

On Monday, we could make card toppers, designs that could be later adhered to the front of a card. Card toppers are a smart way to stockpile different designs. Since most of them are flat, they are easy to store. You don’t need to own an endless supply of card “bodies” and envelopes. When an occasion comes up, you simply go through your stash of card toppers and choose one that is appropriate and attach it to the card “body.”

Excited about my find, I did a quick inventory. Satisfied we had more than enough, I grabbed a set so I’d have the proper dimensions. After text-messaging Clancy and discovering the coast was clear of reporters, I took the card body over to the worktable on the sales floor. While Clancy helped a customer find embellishments for an upcoming trip to Disney World, I went to work creating a topper that our customers could copy.

As I waxed creative, Clancy handled a steady stream of customers. Nothing overwhelming, but enough to keep her busy while I worked on a design and a handout. Luckily, the media didn’t come back. I mentioned that to Clancy and she snickered. “That’s because I text-messaged Robbie Holmes and he sent an officer by to remind them this is private property.”

“Good old Robbie!” I laughed.

When Laurel came in at one-thirty, I filled her and Clancy in on the bail bond hearing.

“I’ve been listening to the radio all day,” said Laurel. “Brenda’s father has been saying horrible things about you and Detweiler. Much of it is outright slander. If you wanted to get an attorney and sue him for defamation of character, I suspect you’d have a good case.”

“I think I have my hands full already. All I care about is keeping Detweiler out of jail and finding the real killer so we can move on.”

Clancy sighed. “I understand grief and guilt, but honestly, Milton Kloss has gone overboard. He’s really trying his best to bury Detweiler, isn’t he? Was he always so hateful toward his son-in-law?”

I rubbed the back of my neck because it ached with tension. “Thelma mentioned having reservations about the man, but gosh, he’s really turned on Detweiler, hasn’t he?”

Laurel’s eyes narrowed. On her it looked sexy. She bought all her clothes out of a Boston Proper catalog. Today she wore skin-tight jeans, a low-cut lime surplice top that emphasized her bust, and a gaggle of jangly bracelets. On her feet were tiny lime-green ballet slippers. “Remember that line from Shakespeare? ‘I fear he doth protest too much.’ I watch a lot of those true crime shows, and usually the in-laws stick by the guy, even long after the evidence has shown him to be a valid suspect. Seems to me that Brenda’s father has decided that Detweiler is Public Enemy Number One—and he’s come to this conclusion awfully quickly. Too quickly for my taste.”

“Look at it from his viewpoint. His daughter is dead. We don’t know how much he did to dissuade her from using drugs. Or how quickly he realized she was an addict, and whether he hurried to get her help. Maybe this is major misplaced guilt,” Clancy said. “He can’t blame himself, so he’s blaming Detweiler.”

“Mr. Kloss knew that Brenda was willing to go into rehab.” I paused to mull this over. “He asked Detweiler to stay married to Brenda so the police department insurance would cover the costs of rehab. Otherwise it was going to come out of Mr. Kloss’s pocket. Unfortunately, the county employees’ insurance has a limited number of treatment providers. Brenda couldn’t go in until a spot opened up.”

“Maybe he’s blaming Detweiler because Brenda had to wait for a spot to open up, right?” Laurel asked.

“Possibly. If Milton Kloss had been willing to foot the bill, Brenda would have had more options, more places where she could have gone. If so, maybe she would have gotten the help she needed. She might still be alive today. So he’s being totally unfair, if that’s his beef.” I shook my head in disgust.

“Pure speculation on your part. Whatever the reason,” said Clancy, “Milton Kloss and his wife are hurting. When people hurt, they strike out and don’t care who they hit. I can’t imagine losing my child, first to drugs and then to a murderer.”

She was right. Put that way, I did feel a lot of sympathy for the Kloss family.

Laurel nodded. “He must be feeling like the world’s biggest loser. His political aspirations hit a brick wall, he’s burying his daughter, and the whole world knows she was involved in drugs.”

“Good point,” Clancy said. “Short of his wife leaving him or his stock portfolio going bust, things can’t get much worse.”

I didn’t tell her that the Detweiler family owed Mr. Kloss money. Yet another reason for the man to hate Detweiler. Since Milton Kloss didn’t know that Schnabel was working pro bono, the man might well assume he’d never be repaid for the loan he’d given the family, thinking all the Detweiler resources would go to defending their son.

The whole screwed up mess made my head hurt.

Time to change the subject. I handed my friend the card I’d created to thank her. “Laurel, I am forever in your debt. How you managed to get Mr. Schnabel to help us is beyond me.”

Instead of explaining how she conjured up Schnabel’s help, Laurel said, “This is so cute! I love it. You are welcome.”

“Okay, ladies, here’s what we need to get done for the crop tonight.”

Laurel helped me duplicate handouts, copy coupons, and set up the tables for the evening’s crop. For a few blessed hours, my thoughts centered on the store. At two o’clock the front door minder jingled and in walked Ruth Glazer.

kiki’s card toppers

This simple method will yield enough for nine cards. You can use this design with any message: Thank You, Happy Birthday, Congratulations, or even In Sympathy. Changing the papers for the grid will change the mood dramatically.

1. Start by creating a card topper base or background. Cut a solid piece of paper ¼" smaller on all sides than the top of your cards.

2. Cut nine pieces of corresponding paper 1" smaller than the base piece above. These will form the checkerboard of your pattern. For example, you might have three shades of blue, three blue patterns, and three blue stripes.

3. Cut each of those nine pieces of paper into nine smaller, equal-sized squares. (Tip: If you hate measuring, fold a piece of newspaper into nine equal squares and use it as your pattern.)

4. Arrange the squares so you have an interesting checkerboard of colors/patterns. For example, you might have a row of squares that are all stripes, followed by a row of squares that are all solids, and a row of squares that are all patterns. Or you could alternate—stripe, solid, pattern—in each row.

5. When you find an arrangement that’s pleasing, glue them down.

6. Add letter stickers to write out: Thanks! (Or whatever!) Or, cut a strip of white paper, add the letter stickers, and glue the strip across the front of the card like a banner.