Assault and Beadery Read online

  With a new mission to get to the bottom of this mess before her crafters arrived, Cora wrapped a scarf around her neck, took a quick look at herself in the mirror, and opened the door.

  A woman wearing purple eyeglasses and a wrinkled brown velour tracksuit stood smiling at her. Short, round, with a pleasant smile, she extended her hand.

  “Hello,” she said, “I’m Roni.”

  “Oh! Roni!” Cora said. “Please come in!”

  “Thank you,” she said, dragging her roller suitcase behind her. It thudded on the chestnut floors, and the wheels made a whirring noise as they spun along. She stopped and gasped as she took in the house. “What a gorgeous place!”

  Cora beamed. “Thanks. It’s a work in progress.”

  Roni stood back from the staircase in awe. “Look at that. The woodwork is astounding!” she said.

  Cora reacted the same way when she first walked into the place. They didn’t build staircases like this anymore, with such exquisite attention to detail on the bannister and the stairs.

  “And the floors!”

  “Yes,” Cora said, wondering if she was ever going to get out of here now that a guest arrived. “The house was built in the 1800s, by an Irish immigrant family.”

  “They must have done pretty well for themselves,” Roni said with her eyes wide.

  “Yes, I’d say so,” Cora replied. “Would you like me to show you around?” She was too polite not to ask, but she hoped Roni would say no.

  “Would I?” Roni clutched her ample chest. “Yes!”

  “You can leave your bag there. I’ll just take you quickly around the place,” Cora said, and smiled. She loved the reaction of people when they came to Kildare House. It was a work of art, and she was still managing to find new things to love about it every day. Even the creaky floors. She felt as if each nook and cranny held history, memories, and stories; each window held dreams.

  She hated to rush Roni along, but Zee was at the police station, thinking she was a suspect for murder. She must be mistaken. Zee must be confused and in shock.

  “How lovely. Did you decorate the place yourself?” Roni said. “I love the way you’ve incorporated handmade crafts and goods. Is that a Moroccan tile table?”

  “Yes, it was a gift,” Cora said. “In fact, most of the décor is handmade items from friends and old clients.”

  There were colorful hand-loomed rugs, macramé and hand-woven wall hangings, knitted and crocheted throws and pillows. Paintings and clay work. All of it a testament to the art of crafting.

  “Through here is the dining room,” Cora said, leading her through the French doors into the next room.

  “I just love the old built-ins,” Roni said.

  “Yes,” Cora said. “Me too. Through there is the craft wing. You’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

  Cora hoped Roni wouldn’t insist on going in—and she didn’t. Cora wanted to visit Zee. But Kildare House was her business. And more than that, it would be impolite just to leave her guest to wander through the house when she had just arrived.

  “We have several craft-themed rooms,” Cora went on, and Roni followed through the hallway. She pointed to the paper-crafting room. “You can do any crafting here you want. There’s the paper-crafting room. And over here is the fiber arts room. We have a mini-loom inside. Do you weave?”

  “Heavens no,” she said. “I design jewelry. I’m all about jewelry. I guess I wouldn’t mind some of this other stuff, but I’m here to learn about beads. I’ve tried to get to some of her other retreats and classes, and my schedule didn’t allow for it.”

  “Oh,” Cora said. “I’m so glad you could make it. Which room did you reserve? Do you remember?”

  “The Brigid Room,” she said. “I remember reading about St. Brigid and the goddess Brigid and thought it would be fun to stay in there.”

  “Brigid is our patron goddess or saint if you will,” Cora said. “Follow me.” She led Roni up the first flight of stairs and stopped at the landing. Cora loved to show off the stained glass window here.

  “Is that her? Is that Brigid?”

  “Yes, it is,” Cora said. “Now, your room has several Brigid items in it. Some statues that Jane Starr made, some prints, and so on. I hope you like it.”

  Cora continued up the second flight of stairs. The third step always creaked. “The family who built this house were from Kildare, Ireland. There is a small St. Brigid church there. It was built on top of a pagan site for Brigid, the goddess of Irish myth. I read that archeologists have unearthed a fire pit and other parts of the ancient temple.”

  “Fascinating,” Roni said. “So the family named their house after their hometown and have a stained glass window of the town saint. That’s just way too cool!”

  Cora found herself enjoying showing Roni around. Her reaction to everything was almost childlike. Evidently, this retreat was a true treat for her. She’d seemingly never been in a house like this before. Then again, who had? Houses with such detailed craftsmanship were no longer being built and unless you inherited one, you didn’t get a chance to live in it. They were much too high in price for most people to buy.

  Cora and Jane had pooled their resources and now had investors in the business as well. Cora lived in the attic and when the retreat was not in-house, closed up the rest of the place, helping to save on the energy bills.

  She remembered a conversation with Zee about the energy expense in old homes and Cora’s solution. Zee wished she could do the same for her B&B, but her establishment always had at least one guest, so closing up a part of the house was not feasible.

  Zee! Her sobs over the phone echoed in Cora’s mind and tugged at her as she settled her new guest into her room.

  “I’ve got a few errands to run,” she said. “Please make yourself at home. There’s coffee and drinks downstairs in the fridge. And Indigo Gap is full of places to eat. I can recommend any of them.”

  “Oh, sugar,” Roni said. “I’m just going to rest awhile.” She sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off her clogs. “Don’t you worry about me.”

  “Okay, well, I won’t be gone long,” Cora said.

  At least she hoped she wouldn’t be gone long. Who knew what this mess was all about? It was madness. Why would someone suspect Zee of murder?

  Cora needed to find out—fast.

  Chapter 4

  London was finishing up her homework. Jane still couldn’t believe her seven-year-old daughter had homework, which was really just busywork designed to help the children develop good habits. Jane wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was only seven, for God’s sake.

  While London was doing her homework, Jane finished the last of her autumn-themed artist trading cards. She’d fallen in with an artist trading card community online by happenstance. She’d discovered them while searching for embellishments for scrapbooking and other paper crafts, which were decorative elements, like buttons, ribbons, and paper flowers. Jane sent her latest batch off a few weeks ago to her online trading partner. She was expecting a package of artist trading cards in the mail any day now. She was not usually a card-maker, but ATCs appealed to her because they were fast to make.

  Her doorbell rang.

  “I’ll be right back, London,” Jane said. Her daughter’s face was hidden in a book and she barely acknowledged her.

  Jane walked down the stairs into the bottom half of the carriage house to the front door and opened the door.

  “About time,” Ruby said. She stood with her hand on her hip, as she was wont to do.

  “What’s up?” Jane gestured for her to come in.

  “It’s Zee. I figured you’d want to know.” Ruby walked in and plopped herself on Jane’s retro red velvet couch. White-haired, slightly stooped, Ruby wore old baggy jeans and a brown sweatshirt with WELCOME FALL across the front. Jane had several carefully selected pieces of comfortable furniture in this part of her place. It was for her students to hang out, rest, or have conversations. A comfortable gat
hering space.

  “Zee? Is she okay?” Jane sat next to her.

  “I’m not sure,” Ruby said. “Cashel went down to the police station. She called him to represent her. He was at my place at the time.”

  “What? Why is she there?” Jane’s mind raced.

  “You know how closemouthed that son of mine can be,” Ruby said. “I gathered that it’s serious. Then the next thing I know, I get a phone call from Maisy. You know Maisy?”

  Jane nodded, wishing Ruby would get to the point. Everybody knew Maisy. Jane knew her from working on sets together at the theater. She was the queen of gossip.

  “She said that Stan Herald is dead,” Ruby said.

  “What? I just saw him. Cora and I were just at the theater.”

  “Maisy said that the police think Zee offed him,” Ruby said with some satisfaction in her voice. Ruby loved nothing more than a juicy nugget of gossip.

  Jane sat silently, stunned. Surely, she hadn’t heard Ruby correctly. “Come again?”

  “That’s right,” Ruby said. “Zee is a suspect in a murder case. The murder of Stan Herald.”

  “She didn’t do it,” Jane said.

  Ruby sat silent now, which was suspicious.

  “What else do you know?” Jane prompted.

  “All I know is that Zee has a mysterious past. And I also know that Stan Herald is a jerk,” she said. “I’m surprised nobody killed him sooner.”

  “Ruby! That’s a terrible thing to say,” Jane said with a scolding tone.

  “If only you knew . . .”

  “Does Cora know what’s going on?” Jane asked.

  “I thought we should tell her together,” Ruby said. “You know how sensitive she is.”

  “True. And the retreat ... of all times,” Jane said, almost more to herself. “Let me grab London, and we’ll all go to the house together.”

  “Do you think that’s wise? To bring her along?” Ruby said.

  “I’ll sit her in the kitchen with cookies and her book,” Jane said. “She’ll be fine.”

  A pang of motherly guilt moved through her, though. London had been through too much in her short seven years of life. A violent, alcoholic, drug-addicted father led to them being uprooted time and time again. And Cora and Jane had only been back from the beach retreat for about six weeks. The retreat had been a disaster, with the deaths of two young women. London had to be sent to stay with Zee. That’s how much Jane trusted and liked Zee. She wouldn’t leave London with just anybody.

  London followed behind Jane and Ruby as they made their way through the garden, situated between the carriage house and the main house. At one point in time, Ruby had been the gardener here, and she still maintained it when she could. Now all of them pitched in together. Cora had been talking about hiring someone to help, maybe next year.

  The formal garden offered plenty of interesting spaces within it, with seating and privacy tucked into places here and there. The gentian was in bloom, and its fragrance tickled Jane’s nose.

  Ruby hiked herself up the back steps to the screened-in porch and opened the door.

  “I bet there are some cookies inside,” she said, and grinned at London.

  “I hope so,” London said.

  “Me too,” Jane said.

  The three of them entered the kitchen from the back door. It was so clean it almost made Jane’s eyes hurt. Cora was generally messy, but she did make certain the public spaces in the house sparkled—especially before a retreat.

  London took her place at the kitchen table and Ruby found the cookies and sat them in front of her.

  “Now, to find Cora,” Ruby said.

  “It’s terribly quiet down here. I’m wondering if she’s upstairs,” Jane said. Ruby and Jane wandered into the foyer, then peeked into the living room where a strange lady was sitting and knitting.

  Jane looked at Ruby. Ruby looked back.

  Nobody was scheduled to be here yet, were they? thought Jane.

  “Hello?” Jane said.

  The woman with purple glasses looked up and yelped. She stood and her yarn flew in all directions.

  “Who are you?” the woman said. “Where did you come from? Step away from me!”

  “I’m sorry to startle you,” Jane said. “I’m Jane Starr and this is Ruby O’Malley. We’re a part of the Kildare House Retreat.”

  The woman exhaled an audible sound of relief, clutching her chest. Her hands trembled.

  “Jumpy,” Ruby muttered under her breath.

  “Oh, I know who you are now,” the woman said, regaining her composure. “Cora told me to make myself at home.”

  “Certainly,” Jane said, walking over and helping her scoop up the yarn that had fallen.

  “We didn’t know any guests had arrived,” Ruby said.

  “I got in earlier than I expected,” she said. “Cora said it was okay.”

  “Oh sure,” Ruby said. “Speaking of Cora, where is she?”

  “She said she had some errands to run,” Roni said. “Hi, I’m Roni.” She shook Ruby’s and Jane’s hands.

  Errands? At this late juncture? Everything was prepared. Maybe over-prepared. What could she possibly be doing tonight? Jane wondered.

  “Okay,” she said, pulling out her cell phone from her back pocket. “I’ll just text her to see where she is.”

  Jane texted her and almost immediately a response came back:

  I’m at the police station. Zee is in trouble and they won’t let me see her. I’ll be home soon.

  Jane showed the text to Ruby, who grunted an acknowledgment.

  “We should have known,” Ruby said.

  I’ll meet you and Ruby at your place in thirty minutes. Please have wine ready, Cora texted back to Jane, who showed the text to Ruby.

  “We should have known that, too,” Jane said.

  Chapter 5

  Cora, Jane, and Ruby gathered in Jane’s studio. London was fast asleep upstairs. Cora’s fingers were busy with an embroidery project, but her mind was on Zee.

  “I don’t know anything,” Cora said before her friends could ask.

  “Cashel won’t tell me a thing,” Ruby said. “You know that.”

  “Well, we’re just going to have to wait until the rest of the world knows what happened,” Jane said, then took a sip of wine.

  “I can’t imagine Zee hurting anybody, let alone the director of a play,” Cora said.

  “Nobody I know likes Stan Herald,” Ruby said.

  “I get that,” Cora said. She found him self-important and abrasive. Still, he didn’t deserve to be murdered.

  “What do you have against Stan?” Jane asked. “He’s a typical frustrated would-be actor turned director, giving plenty of free time to the community through the theater. He probably doesn’t have time for niceties.”

  Ruby harrumphed and bit her lip. “I don’t like to speak ill of the dead, so I won’t. Besides, I’m tired.” She set her glass down. “I’m off to bed. I’ll see you ladies in the morning.”

  “We’re agreed we’ll keep the retreat conversation away from this—whatever comes of it, right?” Cora said.

  Ruby nodded. “Let’s hope nothing comes of it.”

  After Ruby had left, Jane and Cora sat in silence, drinking wine. Cora tried to focus on the steady movement of her needle and thread. Its bright blue flower petal design cheered her. After she was finished with two more petals, she’d started the leaves and stem. She snipped a thread.

  “I do hate that Zee is in jail,” Jane said, and poured another glass. “I remember what it was like being accused of murder and being innocent. It’s a horrible feeling.”

  “That was a long time ago. Let’s not worry about that now. We all knew you weren’t guilty,” Cora said. “Just like we know Zee is innocent.”

  “I’m sure Cashel will do his best,” Jane said. “I wonder what Ruby knows about Stan. She certainly doesn’t care for him.”

  “True, but I’m not sure she likes many people,” Cora said, pulling
a long blue thread through her embroidery needle.

  “Aren’t we the lucky ones?” Jane said, and smiled.

  Ruby turned out to be one of the best things about moving to Indigo Gap and starting their retreat business. Cora relied on her in a myriad of ways. True, she could be a bit grumpy at times. But she was basically a good sport.

  “How well do you know Zee?” Jane asked.

  Cora rubbed her eyes, knotted her thread, and shoved her project in her bag. Bleary-eyed, she figured it was time to go home. “I guess as well as you do.”

  “London adores her. I like her, too. And I’ve trusted her with London on more than one occasion,” Jane said.

  “I’m sure this is all a mix-up. God knows these things happen. Let’s put our faith in Brodsky and Cashel. Maybe by this time tomorrow, she’ll be out, and the play will run as planned,” she said.

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Jane said. “It was a real shame they had to cancel tonight. I don’t know how they can do it without a director tomorrow.”

  “It’s a crime scene. The cancellation doesn’t have anything to do with whether there’s a director or not,” Cora said. “He certainly spent a lot of time at that theater. Did he have a life outside of the place? You’ve got to wonder.”

  “I hear he’s given a lot of his money to some charities. He wasn’t all bad. He’s been involved at the theater for years,” Jane said. “Who knows? All I know is he’s been pretty decent to us, hasn’t he? I mean, he’s got a bit of a reputation for being difficult, but I like to make up my own mind about people.”

  “Good policy,” Cora said, and stood up. “Do you have everything you need for class?”

  Jane nodded. “Oh, I met Roni. I think we scared her.”

  “She came rolling in about the time I wanted to go to the station. I gave her the quick and dirty tour,” Cora said.

  “Speaking of quick and dirty,” Jane said, grinning and winking. “How are things with Adrian?”