Wicked Weaves Read online

  “In a manner of speaking.” Mary looked up at him. “He was my husband.”

  I half expected to hear a loud, indrawn breath of surprise from Roger and Chase, who stood behind him. But he must’ve filled them in when he took the wallet from Joshua. They already knew he was related to Mary.

  I glared at Chase. He couldn’t take the guilt and looked away. It was bad enough we’d found a dead guy in the alleyway; now the police had to play games. Roger looked eager for blood or at least a full confession. It made me angry, and I always do stupid things when I get angry.

  “Leave her alone. She was with me.” That was stupid. I didn’t have any idea where Mary was most of the time. But I couldn’t stand all that leering and waiting. “We were weaving baskets together all day.”

  “Is that true, Miz Shift?” Detective Almond leaned a little closer. It had to be hard on his already tight pants. “Can anyone verify that?”

  Chase and Roger glanced at one another. Fred the dragon peeked around the corner but didn’t speak. No one but me seemed to be worried about Mary. Couldn’t they see how bad this looked?

  “No one needs to say anything. I know what happened.” Mary stepped up with several accounts of past deaths attributed to people being killed with basket weave. She went into torturous detail about how Joshua had probably died. I could see the men wincing as she described the terrible death he may have endured.

  “Are you saying you’ve done this before?” The detective scratched his head.

  “No. I’m Gullah. My people have their ways.” She tossed her head. “Someone stole a little piece of weave and choked him. I can’t say more than that. Unless you want me to check him over for you.”

  “No thanks.” Detective Almond’s tone was brisk and sure. “We have up-to-date forensic facilities. There won’t be any doubt about what happened to him by the time we get through. In the meantime, maybe the two of you should come with me to the office. We’re going to need some answers to all this.”

  Chase stepped between me and Detective Almond. “Is that necessary? Surely you don’t think both of them killed Mr. Shift.”

  “I don’t know yet what happened here.” He looked him up and down. “What the hell did you say your name was again?”

  “Chase Manhattan. My parents were into banking. You know how it is.”

  I was flattered when Chase stood up for me. We’d been friends for a long time. He was a great guy. I could’ve easily read something into his words that wasn’t happening. At least I didn’t think it was happening. I’d been hot for him for so long, I didn’t want to make a mistake.

  I wasn’t sure what I’d gotten myself into as the detective escorted Mary and me to his car and opened the back door. I knew I was lying about being with her all day. She knew I was lying. The chances were pretty good she’d killed Joshua. I didn’t plan to tell the police my thoughts on that subject.

  A white van with the words “Crime Scene” in plain black lettering on the side rolled up. A few goats ran out of the way, and the horse being ridden by the village version of Lady Godiva, Arlene, in a long blond wig and tan body suit, got a little skittish. It was a harsh reminder of the real world outside the wall.

  “What can I do for you, Jessie?” Chase asked as we waited for the group of specialized technicians to check out Mary’s husband. How many people had to look at the poor man?

  “I’ll be fine. Maybe you could close up the shop.”

  “I can do that.”

  “And don’t steal the money,” Mary added. “I know how many baskets are in the shop. If there’s one gone, I expect to see the money for it, or I’ll know the reason why.”

  Roger joined us. “I know this looks bad, but if you haven’t done anything wrong, you have to believe in the system and trust the investigation will find that out.”

  I didn’t find that comforting. “Do you know how many people are wrongly accused and sent to prison every year? Excuse me if I’d rather have a sharp lawyer.”

  “That’s up to you.” He glanced at Mary. “I’ve known you for ten years now. I don’t believe you killed anyone. What was your husband doing up here, anyway? I thought you weren’t supposed to have any contact with him.”

  That was news to me. Did he have some kind of restraining order against her? Of course, I barely knew her at all. She seemed like a good person, but how could I tell?

  “I don’t know why Joshua was here. I swear I hadn’t seen him until I walked around the corner of the shop and he was lying there, looking like I killed him.” Mary shuddered and drew her shawl closer despite the warm temperature. “I knew he was here. I felt it before Abraham came to tell me.”

  Roger put his arm around her shoulders. I was surprised by the move, but she seemed okay with it. “It’ll sort itself out. You’ll be fine.”

  He left us standing by the side of the car with Detective Almond while a dozen crime scene techs who looked like they were still in school stared at Joshua and finally zipped him into a black bag.

  And that was it. That was the way it ended up. Someone strangled you with a piece of basket weave, and they put you in a rubber sack. I wanted time to think about twenty-first-century philosophies on life and death, but Detective Almond interrupted me.

  “If you two ladies are ready to go, we’ll head for the office. I’m sure everything will check out fine, as long as you’ve told the truth. One of my officers will have you back here later on today, so long as it all works out.”

  That sounded like a lot of supposition to me. Mary and I took our cue and slid across the seat. An officer closed the door behind us. I was scared. And not the upside down rollercoaster kind of scared. The whimpering, ready to do whatever the police asked kind.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect. I took out my cell phone and tried to call my brother, Tony. I wasn’t sure what he could do. It didn’t matter anyway, since he didn’t answer his phone. He probably forgot to pay his bill again. I left a voice mail for him. No way was I going to disappear into the county jail without anyone knowing where I was.

  I felt better. But I noticed my efforts didn’t do a thing for Mary. She was huddled in the corner, staring out the window at the passing beach houses and hotels. “Can I call someone for you?”

  She mumbled, “No one to call.”

  I glanced at the back of the detective’s head. The man needed a haircut. The back of his neck was sweaty and dirty. It had stained his collar.

  Leaning closer to Mary, I whispered, “I don’t think he can hear us through that glass. Was Roger right about you and Joshua?”

  “You ask too many questions.”

  “I was willing to say I was with you all day even though I know you disappeared for a while. I think I deserve a few answers.”

  That got her attention. The angry look was back in her eyes. “You don’t know me. If you think I murdered Joshua, you should’a spoken up. If not, you did what you thought was right. I’m grateful. But don’t think I’m gonna tell you everything about my life because of it.”

  My feelings were a little hurt. Apparently she didn’t feel the same way about me that I felt about her. She didn’t trust me like she did Roger. He should have been the one in the car with her. He might have been if I hadn’t lied.

  I folded my hands on my lap and didn’t say another word. If Mary didn’t want my help, I wasn’t going to push it on her. I knew when I wasn’t wanted. Sometimes.

  After a few minutes, she sighed and put her cool, slender fingers against mine. “Let me see your han’.”

  I held my hands out. They were covered in cuts and scratches from my efforts to learn the Gullah tradition of basket weaving.

  She looked at them, then held her dark hands out to me. “You see? We all start out the same way. Lord knows how many times I cut myself on the palm leaf, that’s how I got these ol’ scars. But we’re all the same, see?”

  I looked at her hands and saw the marks from her years of working on the baskets. It was simple and basic. Something
men and women had done since the beginning of time. Humans saw a need and found a way to fill it. Mary worked with plants her ancestors had used a hundred years before she was born. That was what brought me to her and kept me going.

  “Something bad happened. I lived with those people since I was born. Joshua and I were happy after we were married. I made baskets to sell, and Joshua caught crabs and fish to feed us. I never thought to leave.”

  “Then why did you?” I stared into her eyes, our hands touching, voices low. “What could’ve been so bad?”

  “Sometimes, I picked roots and herbs to help out the sick. I never sold them. Just gave them away. One night a man brought his son to me. He was burning up with the fever. His father didn’t want to take him to Charleston to the doctor. He asked me to help. I did what I could. The boy died.”

  There was a singsong quality in her voice that said there was so much detail Mary didn’t have time to explain. It was like looking at one of her baskets and thinking I could go home and weave one exactly like it. The richness and fragrance of the sweetgrass would be there, but the years of experience wouldn’t.

  “What happened?”

  She shrugged and pulled her arms close to her. “He said I killed his son. Our friends, the people I grew up with, were afraid of him. They couldn’t stand up for me. I looked him in the eye. We both knew what happened that night. I was judged, and they told me to leave. Said I wasn’t welcome in my own home. They said Joshua and I weren’t married anymore. They told him if he left with me, he could never come back.”

  I was fascinated by the nuances and shadows in her voice. The story reminded me of something that could’ve happened in medieval times when being turned out of your village could mean a death sentence. You’d be looked on as a person who couldn’t be trusted everywhere you went. “What did you do?”

  “I left. Joshua’s mother and father were old. He stayed to care for them. They needed him more than I did. I haven’t seen him twenty years before today.”

  I’m not sure why I thought about it, but I asked, “Was Abraham the one who kicked you out?”

  She nodded. “I couldn’t believe it when I saw him. It was like seeing a stranger. But I’d know him anywhere.”

  “Did Abraham tell you how he knew Joshua was here or why he was here?”

  “He didn’t. He give me the warning: If I talked to Joshua, there was no going back for him either.”

  This was beginning to make an odd kind of sense. Maybe Mary didn’t kill her husband after all. People have warned me about taking things at first glance. Maybe Abraham killed Joshua because he couldn’t control him anymore. Maybe Joshua had finally come to his senses and realized what he’d lost. Abraham couldn’t stand that because he wanted his revenge on Mary and instead, he killed her husband before they could be reunited.

  Anyone (make that Abraham) could’ve picked up a piece of one of the baskets Mary was working on and strangled Joshua with it. He looked like a good suspect to me. He was there. He had motive. He’d probably found Joshua before he got in the Village, after picking up a piece of weaving from Mary. He’d strangled Joshua, then put him next to Wicked Weaves, knowing the police would suspect Mary.

  As Detective Almond’s car pulled into the parking lot of the Myrtle Beach police station, I decided my theory was correct. Abraham was there before he made his presence known to Mary. He snagged a piece of her weaving and used it to kill Joshua. That made sense.

  Two officers helped Mary and me out of the car while Detective Almond waddled into the office. I could smell the donuts from there. But it didn’t matter. I had my theory to protect me. I’d hoped to get a chance to tell Mary what I was thinking. If we both pushed the same idea, we were bound to be all right.

  Unfortunately, my plan didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped. My officer took me to a little room on the left of the building, and Mary’s officer took her to a little room on the right. There wasn’t any time to tell her what I was thinking.

  I sat in my little room wishing I had something to weave to keep from biting my fingernails. I don’t know how long I was in there, but it seemed like forever. I stared at the walls, trying to think what Tom Cruise would do in that situation. No doubt he’d find some way to climb up through the ventilation system and make his way to freedom, stopping to rescue Mary on the way. Then he’d go out and find Abraham, forcing him to confess to killing Joshua and declaring his undying love for Mary that had spurred him to such a heinous act.

  Since I was wearing heavy, bulky linen and wouldn’t fit through the ventilation shaft, I wasn’t going to accomplish that feat. I sat there and ran my fingers over the names carved into the old table, thinking about all the people who were there in jail. Were they still there? Would I ever get out?

  The door opened finally, and Chase walked in carrying a briefcase that had seen better days. “Are you ready to go home, Jessie?”

  Four

  Chase had shaved and put on a suit and tie that was a little wrinkled. But still he’d dressed up and come for me. I was amazed, shocked, and very pleased. I threw myself against him, and he fell back against on old table with me on top of him.

  I didn’t care about my mantra or the fact that he was never going to amount to anything. I locked my arms around him and kissed him until I had to come up for air. “We can never have a permanent relationship,” I told him before I kissed him again.

  He dropped his briefcase on the floor. “Okay. I can handle that. I thought we’d just be friends forever.”

  “I was worried about that, too.” I couldn’t believe he was saying this to me. “I didn’t think you even noticed me. Not like that, anyway.”

  We kissed again, our arms struggling to hold each other tighter. Then we rolled off the table and hit the hard concrete floor. It was enough to bring me to my senses as well as make a few bruises. “How is this happening? Why are you here?”

  “To get you out of here.” He tried to kiss me again.

  I moved my head. I couldn’t believe I moved away, but the logical part of my brain, which hadn’t turned to pudding like my body, refused to let it go. “I appreciate the effort. But unless you have Legal Aid for Dummies in your briefcase, I don’t think we can walk out of here just because you got dressed up and shaved.” I didn’t mention how good he smelled or how hard it was not to kiss him again.

  “Actually, I’m a lawyer.” He smiled at me like he’d found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow and had decided to share it.

  “And a paramedic. And a ski instructor.” I pushed myself off the floor before someone came in and found us there. “You’ve done a lot of things since I’ve known you, Chase. You can’t just pretend to be a lawyer or you’ll end up in here with me and Mary.”

  “No, I really am a lawyer.” Chase got off the floor, too. “I took the bar and everything. I work as a consultant, mostly over the Internet. But I’m sure I can get you out of here. You didn’t do anything. They know that. They’re just fishing.”

  I didn’t know whether to believe him or not. He reminded me so much of Tony when he’d told me he was a certified pilot because he’d taken one lesson. “Do you have some kind of proof? They’ll ask you for proof, you know. They won’t just take your word for it.”

  He pushed at my forehead with his fingers. “You always get these cute little frown lines when you think. You might want to consider Botox before they become permanent indentations.”

  I wiggled my eyebrows up and down. I needed a mirror. “I suppose you could do that, too.”

  “Look, do you want to get out of here or not? I had to borrow this suit from Milton, and he needs it back for a date tonight.” He checked himself out in what I thought was a two-way mirror. “It fits pretty well, too.”

  I felt my forehead furrowing and made myself stop frowning. “Who’s Milton?”

  “He’s that new guy from the University of Minnesota. He’s a knight. Livy already has her eye on him.”

  “And every other part of he
r, I’m sure.” I looked at him, purposely not frowning. “Are you really a lawyer? You’re not just saying that?”

  “I’m really a lawyer. I don’t have my license to practice with me, but I could run back and get it if it would make you feel any better.”

  “Then why aren’t you out making the big bucks?” I pushed his shoulder. “Why are you still hanging out at Renaissance Faire Village?”

  “I have my reasons. I’m not going to talk about them right now.”

  “I don’t know if I trust you.”

  He picked up his briefcase. “That’s fine. I’ll get Mary out and leave you to rot in prison with a cell mate named Tiny Tina.”