Chapter 24
Thursday afternoon,
Webb’s Glass Shop
Savannah grabbed a Taco Bell drive-through burrito, then made the long drive back to St. Petersburg and walked into Webb’s Glass Shop at a quarter to one.
“Hey, I was beginning to get worried.” Amanda looked up from the desk back in the office. “It’s been quiet since my class left. How did you get on with the brother?”
Savannah plopped down in the guest chair. “Not what I was expecting. He seems to have been ignored by everyone in his family and is struggling along by himself. The rescue farm must take enormous resources to keep running. He’s certainly not spending money on anything not pertaining to the animals.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the old farmhouse hasn’t been painted in at least a decade. No air-conditioning, only a fireplace for heating, no real creature comforts at all. Apparently, Nicole was working with him prior to her marriage to Elizabeth, but not so much since.”
“Well, that’s natural. I mean, they had a fantastical wedding, a honeymoon in Greece, and they just bought that little house in Gulfport.”
“He also complained that Elizabeth was spending tons of money on editors and conferences trying to get a script produced out in Hollywood.”
“I didn’t know that. I thought she was a ghostwriter for some of those celebrity books that keep coming out.”
“Yeah, she made some scraps of money that way, but it seems she wanted her own name on the big screen, so she stopped taking on new projects. She’s still working over in Tampa writing tech manuals, but she hates that job.” Savannah noticed the time. “Hey, you’ve got to go see your mother, and my class is about to start. Let’s meet up tonight at Queen’s Head Pub and share what we know.”
The hanging doorbell jangled. It was time for class.
Savannah enjoyed the delight each student expressed with their completed wineglasses.
“I think we need at least four more,” said Rachel. She compared her two wineglasses to Faith’s.
“Oh, I agree.” Faith turned to Savannah. “Is it true that Herbert here is going to be an instructor for flameworking?”
Herbert raised his eyebrows. “Where did you hear that?”
“We know everything,” the twins said at the same time.
Savannah pointed both her index fingers at the two. “That’s true, but things are not yet settled. There’ll be a trial class in a few weeks. Don’t go jinxing this for Herbert. More importantly, don’t jinx it for me. I need the help.”
“We won’t mess it up. We want to sign up for his first class,” said Rachel.
“Can we make martini glasses?” asked Faith. “That would suit us better. We serve lots of martinis.”
Savannah felt her lips spread into the biggest smile of the day. “Yes, your parties are legendary. I’ll make sure you’re signed up as soon as things firm up.” She held up a small single-color glass bead. “This is what we’re going to make today. You already have most of the skills you need, but in any case, I’ll pass this around so you can see what we’re trying to make.”
She handed it to Myla Kay, who seemed to be operating at half speed. She dreamily held the bead up to the light and looked through the hole in the center. She stared at the glass bead so fiercely, Savannah thought she was trying to bore another hole in it.
“Is something wrong?” Savannah asked.
Myla Kay slowly turned to look at Savannah. Wordlessly, she finally passed it on.
After the last student quickly examined the bead, Savannah asked, “Any questions?”
Patricia raised her hand. “My sister has one of those fancy charm bracelets. You know the kind. They’re in malls and airports everywhere.”
“You mean a Pandora charm bracelet. Right?” said Lonnie. “I would like to make one for my mother for Christmas. Are we going to do that today?”
“Not in this class, but I’m considering setting up a one-day workshop just for that purpose. They require a larger diameter mandrel—which I have on order, but I won’t receive them until next week. This class would be a prerequisite for the workshop, anyway. How many of you would be interested?”
All but the twins raised their hands.
Savannah tilted her head. “I thought you two would jump at the chance. Why not?”
“Oh, we’ll be there all right,” said Rachel.
“But we don’t wear bracelets,” said Faith. “Especially charm bracelets that make noise.” She shivered. “Too distracting.”
“But we have friends with charm bracelets who need birthday gifts, so that makes it unanimous—we’ll all attend.” Rachel smiled at a smiling Faith.
“I’ll set that up then. Now back to this lesson. It’s the oldest of the glassmaking techniques, glass beadmaking. The resulting beads can be worn on a charm bracelet, on a necklace, or on a keychain. You’re going to find making them takes a good bit of practice, but it’s well worth the effort. Watch closely.”
She lit the small torch and picked up one of the mandrels she had coated in bead-release liquid last night. “The mandrel is the support rod for making your glass bead.”
She looked squarely at Rachel and Faith in turn. “Do not attempt to make a bead anywhere else on the mandrel except this gray section. Let me repeat that. Do NOT attempt to make a bead anywhere else on the mandrel. If you do, it will fuse there and become a permanent part of the mandrel. I’ll have to throw it away. There’s no recovery.”
Next, she held up a thick cobalt-blue glass rod. “Notice that I’m holding it with my left hand like a pencil. I’m turning the mandrel in my right hand slowly toward myself.” She looked up. All the students were spellbound. “You may need to experiment. Try it this way first and then if it doesn’t feel comfortable, switch hands and try again. If that doesn’t work, let me know. I’ve seen some creative approaches that I can show you.”
“Heat both the mandrel and the glass rod.” She put both into the sweet spot of the flame. “You are also heating the bead glass so that it will form easily around the mandrel. It’s a Goldilocks thing. Too cool and it won’t form onto the mandrel. Too hot and it will be unstable, and your bead will be uneven.”
She held the blue rod close to the mandrel and began pressing the glass onto it while rolling the mandrel. She applied the color for several turns.
“Now that I have enough material around the mandrel, I can finish off shaping it by using a small marver.” She heated the bead and pressed it gently onto the flat surface of the marver paddle. She repeated those steps until she had a cobalt-blue bead about the size of a dime.
She walked down the row of workstations, letting everyone see the finished bead. “You can make the bead slimmer or wider, but the important part is to keep the glass on the coated part of the mandrel. When you’re happy with the shape, you put it in the oven. After about thirty minutes, we’ll take them out and the bead should release. We’ll use a toothpick to clean out the center and then it will look like this one I passed around a few minutes ago. Now, it’s your turn.”
The students began the delicate process.
As an exception to their normal classroom attempts, Rachel and Faith were reasonably competent at making a bead.
Herbert concentrated on keeping the pressure of the colored rod even so that the bead was uniformly round. Savannah stood beside him while he used the marver to even out the bead.
“That’s great, Herbert. Now, for your advanced assignment, make a bead three times as wide out of three colors.”
Herbert grinned like a child.
By this fourth day of class, Savannah usually knew which students needed extra instruction—like the twins—and which students were practically independent, like Herbert. Myla Kay confounded her. It appeared to Savannah that Myla Kay’s skills fluctuated up and down every day, and she was sometimes both brilliant and dull during a single classroom session.
Today was a needy day for Myla Kay and Savannah practically took over making each bead that Myla Kay attempted. Savannah wondered if she had a drug problem that would cause frequent concentration lapses.
* * *
Just as Savannah was cleaning up the flameworking workstations and making sure she had enough supplies for tomorrow’s session, a couple entered the shop. The man opened the door for the woman to walk through. They were dressed in jeans, rubber sandals, and oversized fishing shirts with a bright red logo over the chest pocket. The logo was the silhouette of a fishing boat and the writing said BORAWSKI FISHING GUIDES.
“Are you Savannah?” asked the woman.
“Yes, ma’am.” Savannah walked toward the couple with her hand extended. “I’m “Savannah Webb. How can I help you?”
“You can get your nose out of our business. That’s how you can help!”
Savannah took a step back, then straightened herself to her full height so that she towered over the couple. “I’m sorry? I don’t understand.”
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it with me, missy.” The woman shook a pointed finger in Savannah’s face. “You have no right to meddle in our business.”
The man sidled in front. “You stay away from our son Alan. He’s got health issues and we had to take him to the emergency room after your visit.”
The woman stepped in front and placed her hands on her hips. “If you dare show up at Alan’s farm or at our fishing business, we’ll call the police on you for harassment.”
Savannah put her hands up in front of her. “Look, you’ve got this all wrong. I’m working with the police as a consultant. They know what I’m doing.”
Well, maybe not.
Mrs. Borawski took her husband’s arm. “I don’t care if you’re working for the police or anyone else for that matter. You don’t have the authority to interfere with our private lives.”
“But, Mrs. Borawski, don’t you want to know who killed your daughter? You could have left me a message on my phone. Why did you come all the way down here?”
Mrs. Borawski stiffened. “I wanted to see you in person. You’re turning my family inside out. I want this business to be done with. Your interfering is keeping everyone upset.”
Savannah relaxed her posture. “But surely you understand that until the real culprit is found, your whole family will live under a cloud of suspicion. Trust me, I know what that feels like. There’s no shortcut here. The more cooperative you are with me and the police, the quicker everyone can get back to the business of normal daily life.”
“There is no normal in our family. Not since Nicole married that—that—that person.”
Mrs. Borawski grabbed her husband’s arm. “Come on, Thomas. I don’t want to be here.”
“Don’t pull on me, Deloris. I can’t stand when you pull on me.”
She dropped her arm and left in such a temper that the bell clanged for a full minute after they were gone.
Why are they so upset?
Alan is accepting money from both sides of this divided family. That could cause quite a bit of tension if either side found out. I don’t know for sure if anyone had. Alan also hadn’t told Nicole that the family had forgiven him. Motive?
Savannah’s phone sounded the text message ping. It was from Jacob.
He texted: NEED GREEN CATHEDRAL GLASS
She answered: NO PROBLEM. ORDERED LAST WEEK. ARRIVED TODAY.
He responded: BRING TO STUDIO
She replied: ABSOLUTELY
He continued with: NEED NOW
She responded: WILL BE RIGHT OVER
He finished with: C U
I’ll bet anything he’s avoiding the sidewalk in front of the shop, where he witnessed the hit-and-run. But I still need to see how he’s doing.
She wrangled the lightweight but awkward package of glass into the back of her Mini Cooper and drove over to Webb’s Studio. A few moments after she pulled into the gravel parking lot, Jacob appeared at her elbow as she was opening the hatch door.
Savannah took note that Suzy was on leash beside him, looking alert but calm.
Hmm, that’s a good sign.
Jacob reached into the trunk and carried the box into the studio. Savannah followed him as he put the box on an empty worktable in his sectioned-off area of the studio.
“Wow, you’ve made great progress,” she said, leaning over the large medallion-shaped stained glass panel. “Does the new glass match?”
Jacob lifted his eyebrows and turned to open the box with a box cutter. He removed the packaging material carefully and placed the half sheet of cathedral glass next to the medallion. He reached up and turned on an additional work lamp above the table and leaned over to compare the new glass with the existing portions of the stained-glass medallion. His eyes beamed, and he grinned wide. Then he pulled his phone out of his back pocket.
PERFECT