Death of a Dapper Snowman Page 5

  The window itself was decorated with puffy floral curtains, and the adjoining walls were covered in antique serving platters and framed prints of cats and dogs having high tea. I’d never seen so much charm packed into such a small space. I smiled up at the ceramic busts of cat faces higher on the wall. One of the cats looked exactly like Jeffrey, if he wore a fisherman’s hat.

  The nook was big enough for a single table and seating for five people—six or seven people if they were very good friends.

  It puzzled me that I’d never noticed the jewelry store had a miniature tea house in its back room.

  Ruby’s store sat on the corner, so the window offered a clear view of the entire downtown core of Misty Falls. I watched as Mr. Jenkins emerged from his costume store across the street. He locked the door, and then walked to the corner, where an older woman with a cane was talking to a fair-haired young woman. The older lady was waving her free hand wildly, and the younger one held her hand to her mouth, as though shocked.

  Mr. Jenkins joined in the conversation, and they stood there while the intersection’s traffic lights changed and then changed again.

  On the second walk signal, Mr. Jenkins offered the blonde his arm. She hesitated, then timidly took it, and the two of them crossed the street together. Both of them walked directly toward me.

  I raised my hand and gave Mr. Jenkins a cheery wave through the window.

  He kept walking straight toward me, cutting a lean, dark line against the postcard view. I kept waving. He was definitely looking my way, but he didn’t return the gesture. I started to feel uncomfortable and dropped my hand. Had I offended him during my brief visit?

  The girl he’d crossed the street with, a blonde in her early twenties, looked right through me, like I was a ghost. She let go of Mr. Jenkins’ arm and dug around in her purse for a moment. Then she leaned in toward the glass and applied a coat of red lipstick to her full lips.

  She was using the window as a mirror because, to her, it was a mirror.

  I let out a giddy laugh as soon as it came to me. I’d never noticed this window, because it didn’t look like a window on the other side. It was a mirror, and a famous one, at that. Ruby’s mirror on the corner was one of the cutest things in Misty Falls, and frequently featured on our local postcards.

  While I was looking out at Mr. Jenkins and the girl, they were looking at themselves. I knew the view well. The mirror was surrounded by a decorative tile mosaic sprinkled with letters that spelled out positive words and phrases, like JOY and LOVE and YOU LOOK SUPER TODAY!

  Mr. Jenkins glanced over to the girl and said something I couldn’t hear through the glass. He didn’t look happy, or sad, but she looked miserable, with red-rimmed eyes.

  She turned and spat some words at him—I saw actual beads of spit fly out of her mouth—and stepped closer to the mirror, lipstick in hand.

  I watched in amazement as the blonde finished fixing her makeup, her body language cold toward Mr. Jenkins.

  “Something’s going on there,” said Ruby, startling me at her quiet arrival. She set a tray of tea and miniature cupcakes on the table.

  I whispered, “Can they hear us? Or see us?”

  “Triple paned,” she said. “And nobody can see in. You could sit here naked if you wanted, though I wouldn’t recommend it.” She picked up a mini cupcake and popped it into her mouth whole. “The crumbs would go everywhere unmentionable.”

  Mr. Jenkins and the blonde walked away, heading in separate directions.

  “I wonder what that’s all about,” Ruby said. “I’d bet my beloved turtle on a scandal.”

  She stroked a diamond-encrusted gold chunk of jewelry hanging from her necklace. Something struck me as being odd. I didn’t find it strange that an older man such as Mr. Jenkins might be having an affair with an attractive younger woman, because that was the norm back in my high-powered business world. I found it odd that Ruby was talking about a beloved turtle while stroking a panther-shaped charm.

  She settled into the seat across the small table from me and poured us both tea.

  “I’m sorry, Ruby, but I have to ask. You mentioned a turtle, but that spectacular piece you’re wearing is something else.”

  She smiled and patted her jewelry. “This is my kitty. My turtle’s too precious to wear for everyday stuff, silly.” She gestured for me to drink the tea. “It’s creamy Earl Grey, love. Drink up.”

  I took a sip and enjoyed the view out of the secret window.

  “Isn’t it marvelous?” Ruby cooed. “I could just watch all day. I love it when people come out of the bagel shop and stop right here, like clockwork, to check their teeth for poppy seeds.”

  “You love that?” I chuckled at this and sipped my tea politely.

  “I look away, of course. If people are using the mirror, I give them their privacy. It just makes me laugh how predictable people are. Watch.”

  She beckoned for me to lean forward, and pointed to a man exiting the bagel shop next door. It was Officer Tony Milano, in uniform. Did Tony like poppy seed bagels? That wasn’t a bit of trivia I knew about the man. He liked food, in general, and lots of it. My father used to tease him about having a hollow leg, because he loved to eat and never gained weight.

  Tony walked toward us, turned to face me, and smiled. I smiled and waved back as a reflex, even though he couldn’t see me. A second later, he leaned in and grinned wider, checking his teeth.

  Ruby said, “See what I mean?”

  “Tony likes poppy seeds.” I laughed and covered my eyes with my hand. When I removed my hand, Tony had already left.

  A bell rang somewhere overhead, and the girl I’d seen cleaning rushed by us, toward the storefront. We had a similar bell at the gift shop, and it just meant a customer had entered the shop.

  Ruby pointed to the window again. “What do you think of those jeans? I see the young people wearing that style, and I just don’t know.” She didn’t wait for an answer before telling me what she thought of the local teen fashions and pointing out examples. I half-listened to her, distracted by the sound of the other people in the front part of the store. I could hear a woman arguing with Ruby’s employee.

  I interrupted Ruby’s opinions about tight jeans versus loose jeans to ask, “Do you need to check on your customers? For store security?”

  She waved one hand dismissively. “Not really. Everything of value is locked inside the cases, safe and sound.”

  “So, you never have any problems with shoplifting?”

  “Never,” she said emphatically.

  “That’s good. I’ve visited a half a dozen stores today, and nearly every one of them said they’d had problems with a few shoplifters, including… um, the deceased.”

  She sipped her tea delicately, then leveled her eyes at me.

  “We knew all about Mr. Michaels and his shoplifting.”

  “We?”

  She pursed her lips, leaned back, and said, “You can keep a secret, right?”

  Excitement and curiosity buzzed through my body. “Of course,” I said.

  “I’ll ask you not to mention this room to anyone, or speak of the activities that take place in here.”

  I leaned forward, very interested. Ruby seemed pleased by my reaction, her cheeks flushing pink with the excitement of someone about to share a juicy secret.

  “We call ourselves the Secret Tea Room Ladies. As far as our families are concerned, we meet once a week to play bridge.”

  “But you don’t play bridge, do you?”

  “We do play bridge, but only if there aren’t more important things to discuss.” She sat back in her chair, smiling and quiet, like that was all she was permitted to share.

  “Important matters? Gossip? Charity fundraisers?”

  She shrugged one shoulder and looked upward with an impish grin on her face. “Perhaps one day you’ll find out for yourself.”

  A banging sound from the front of the shop startled me. It must have been someone leaving and slamming the front
door, because I didn’t hear voices anymore.

  A moment later, the shy employee came into the nook and hovered near Ruby.

  “Are we closing early today?” the girl asked. “Out of respect for the, um, gentleman?”

  “He wasn’t exactly the mayor,” Ruby said. “We’re all shaken up, but closing early won’t help matters much.”

  I interrupted to say, “I believe Mr. Jenkins closed the costume shop early.”

  Ruby nodded. “He hasn’t been well lately.”

  The employee wrung her hands as her eyes darted around nervously, making her look like a cornered mouse. “I guess I’ll clean the front windows.”

  Ruby replied, “Speaking of cleaning, did you jiggle some of the security camera cables when you were dusting up there? Something came unplugged, and we lost an entire day of footage.”

  “I might have done that,” the girl said. “I’m really sorry. I’m just trying to do a good job.”

  “Don’t worry, it’s just one day of footage we’re missing.” Ruby turned to me and added, “Not that a day’s worth of people leaning over display cases is anything to be missed, mind you.”

  “I’ll be more careful,” the girl answered softly.

  “You do that,” Ruby said, then shooed her away with one hand.

  Alone again, we returned to our tea and refreshments. I sensed that Ruby might tell me more about the Secret Tea Room Ladies if I made myself a good listener, so I kept quiet.

  A tempting vanilla scent wafted up from the miniature cupcakes between us. I chose one with yellow icing topped with a candied lemon rind, and popped it into my mouth whole. The vanilla cake was moist, and the lemon flavor on top was tangy and refreshing. My stomach rumbled in appreciation, reminding me I hadn’t eaten in several hours. My breakfast had been a bagel and coffee, eaten over the sink, and the remains of that meal were now frozen to my father’s lawn.

  Ruby absentmindedly stroked her panther-shaped charm as she returned her attention to the viewing window.

  Looking at her cat charm made me think of Jeffrey, who was probably out of surgery by now. I wondered if he would be wearing a cone of shame, and if he would be cross with me for my involvement in the whole ordeal.

  I picked up my tea cup and said, “Thank you so much for the pick-me-up, Ruby. You’re very kind, and I am feeling better.”

  “Sweetheart, are you going to be okay? You’re only just getting settled in, and now this dreadful thing has happened.”

  I swallowed hard and looked down at the two remaining cupcakes.

  “I’m fine,” I said. “If anything, I’m reminded of how precious life is, and how lucky I am to be alive now.”

  “I agree,” she said softly. “It’s a shame about Mr. Michaels, even though he didn’t have the best reputation.”

  “Why would someone kill him?”

  She sighed. “That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

  “And why stick him inside a snowman?”

  She made a tsk-tsk sound and shook her head. “It’s very odd. Not the saltiest ham in the deli, that murderer. If it was me, I would have made it look like an accident, or a suicide. But nobody gets themselves inside a snowman by accident.”

  “Good point.”

  “I just hope the local police can close the case. These new cops, they aren’t like the older generation. Not like when your father was in charge.”

  I pushed my chair back and started getting up to leave. Growing up, I’d learned to avoid discussions with people about whatever opinions they had about the police.

  “Thank you again for the tea, and for showing me your secret room.”

  “Stop by any time,” she said sweetly. “I mean it, Stormy. My tea room is always open for a friend in need.”

  I thanked her again and walked out to the storefront, which was now empty. Ruby’s young employee stood on the other side of the big front windows, cleaning them with a squeegee. The soapy water was hot enough to send up billows of steam in the winter air.

  I glanced up at the corners of the ceiling and counted three security cameras. Two of them were fakes, just dummies. I recognized the brand, because we had one at the gift store as a deterrent. One of the cameras looked real, though, with a red light on, recording.

  That camera was aimed at the engagement ring section of the display counter. I leaned down to get a look at the rings. I scanned the rows until I spotted the one that looked the most like my own engagement ring—the one I’d threatened to force-feed to a certain former fiancé. Just looking at the ring made me angry.

  I yanked open the door and stepped outside.

  The girl cleaning the window squeaked in alarm. Ruby was right about her being a nervous one. After hearing about Ruby’s missing security footage, I might have considered this girl as a suspect, if she looked like she weighed more than ninety pounds when soaking wet. She could barely wring out a squeegee, much less wring someone’s neck.

  “Have a nice day,” I told her, then I headed in the direction of the veterinary clinic.

  What a day! I hoped Jeffrey wasn’t too groggy to give me some whiskered kisses.

  My phone started ringing just as I approached the block with the vet’s office.

  The caller ID read: MISTY FALLS POLICE.

  Chapter 9

  I answered my ringing phone, and Tony replied with, “I’m sorry.”

  “Your rookie isn’t so bad,” I said. “We both have the same hairdresser. Did you know that?”

  “Stormy, I’m not apologizing about handing your statement over to her. This is… a personal call.”

  I kept walking toward the veterinary clinic, albeit slower.

  “Tony, don’t be sorry about the other stuff. It was ten years ago. That ship sailed. I’m happy for you and your family. Honestly, I am.”

  “Good,” he said, sounding a little confused.

  “And I don’t need your pity, but just between us, I could use your help with the gossip situation here in town. If you catch people telling lies about me and the billions of dollars I supposedly walked away from, take out your gun and shoot them.”

  “Stormy.”

  I kept laughing at my joke. “Don’t shoot them fatally, of course. Just shoot off a toenail or something. You always were good at target practice.”

  “Would you stop talking for a minute? I have something to tell you.”

  I’d reached the veterinarian’s office, but something about Tony’s voice told me he had bad news. I brushed the snow off a bus bench and took a seat in front of the vet’s.

  “Hit me,” I said.

  “Have you spoken to your father recently?”

  My blood ran cold. My father had been in surgery that morning, and I hadn’t yet called the hospital to check in on him. My thoughts ran to the worst possible scenario: something went wrong during the surgery. They lost him.

  “What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “I have an eyewitness who reports that your father and Mr. Michaels had a number of altercations.”

  I leaned back on the bus bench, sighing with relief.

  “That’s all? For a minute, I thought something had gone wrong with Dad’s surgery. That reminds me, I have to call and check up on him. Plus I need to inform him that he can’t tell a girl cat from a boy.”

  “Did you not hear me? The eyewitness says your father threatened to choke Mr. Michaels, on multiple occasions.”

  “Oh, pfft. If they weren’t arguing over whose tree was dropping leaves on whose lawn, it was about someone’s safety light shining in the other one’s window. Those two liked to give each other a hard time. They’re always—uh. I mean they were always…”

  My throat choked my voice off as the new reality settled in. Those two wouldn’t be arguing about the front hedge, or over the front hedge anymore.

  “A threat is still a threat,” Tony said gravely.

  “Of course it is, Officer Milano. And here’s a new one: Finnegan Day, my father, is
going to kick your skinny Italian butt if he finds out that for even one minute you considered him a suspect in this case.”

  “I’m just doing my job.

  “Then keep doing your job. Did you know Mr. Michaels was shoplifting all over town?”

  He answered cagily, “What have you heard?”

  “Nothing huge, from what I’ve gathered so far, but I’ve got a tip for you. Have a look into Ruby’s Treasure Trove. She’s missing some security camera footage. If that’s not connected to Mr. Michaels, it’s probably connected to something else you should know about.”

  “What? Ruby’s Treasure Trove? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about leads in the case. Leads I got by canvassing the local businesses.”

  “Stormy, you can’t be getting involved in this. It’s a murder investigation. You could get yourself hurt.”

  “And I could make you look bad by cracking the case myself.”

  “I can’t let you do that. Just give me some time and I’ll take care of everything.”

  My voice got louder, but just shy of yelling. “Fine. Take care of everything. I don’t care what you do, as long as you do something, and leave my father out of it.”

  Before Tony could respond, I ended the call. If he was going to accuse me of storming all over him, it was going to happen.

  A woman with a Yorkshire terrier in a quilted jacket came out of the vet’s office and stared at me as she walked past.

  Ignoring her, I blinked up at the sky, which was now blue and nearly cloudless. I’d almost forgotten about how angry I used to get, defending my father. I was careful to avoid debates with people who had an issue with authority figures in general, but that didn’t stop some guys from seeking me out.

  If someone said something untrue about my father, they were going to find out about my stormy nature.

  What was Tony thinking?

  If anyone knew my father’s true character, it was Tony. They’d cracked so many cases together, and Tony knew that my father was passionate about justice and fairness, no matter what.

  Some cops would rough a suspect up, or “accidentally” trip them to get out their aggression, but not my father. He left the judge and jury work to the judge and jury, as it should be. He rarely drew his gun, and he certainly didn’t lash out at people in anger, let alone murder a neighbor in cold blood.