Ten minutes later she decided to buy it. The colors in it would accompany any season. With the holidays coming up, she was sure there would be an occasion for something not too elaborate but just plain pretty.
She was thinking about how the dress had looked on her when she’d stared in the dressing room mirror as she walked through the racks to the sales desk. She stopped and examined a man’s suit. When she checked the label, she saw it was Armani!
“Wow, this is a beautifully cut suit.”
Amelia came around the desk and crossed to Daisy. “I don’t usually mention who goes in and out of the store, but I can tell you who brought that in.”
Daisy couldn’t keep her curiosity in check. “Who?”
“Ward Cooper.” She pointed to another rack. “Those dress shirts cost him a pretty penny too.”
“I know it’s none of our business, but did he say why he was donating them?”
“He said he lost a few pounds and they just don’t fit like they should.”
“I didn’t think lighting techs made a bundle, but maybe I’m wrong.”
“Or maybe by staying in Willow Creek, he’s saving a ton of money and can afford another suit.”
Daisy studied the suit again. “I don’t understand.”
“New York is expensive. Of course, it depends on what part of the city he lived in, but if Rowan Vaughn is giving him a place to stay here for free, that would make a difference with his expenses.”
“But he would have kept the New York apartment, right?”
“I don’t know how he lives, but I do know stage crews can be on the road a lot. He could lease a place month to month. Who knows? But I do know if you get a good look at the clothes that he wears, they don’t come cheap.”
If Daisy asked any more questions, she’d be diving deeper into the suspect pool of Margaret’s murder. Right now, that wasn’t what she wanted or needed. She handed the dress she’d found to Amelia. “I’ll take this and I’ll stop looking.”
Amelia raised a brow. “Not interested in who killed Margaret?”
“Oh, I’m interested, but I know I shouldn’t be.”
“By the way,” Amelia said. “I decided to help with costume fittings for the play at the Little Theater. They needed someone who could sew. I attended a rehearsal last week and it was pathetic.”
Daisy was sorry to hear that.
The front door of the shop opened and Agnes came in. She was a birdlike woman, short with gray wispy hair that fell around her face in a helmet-like style. Wearing a black wool cape and sturdy brown shoes, she looked ready for anything that came her way. She was all smiles as she slipped behind the desk and hung her cape on the wooden coatrack, revealing a sensible white blouse and black sweater.
After greetings were exchanged all around, Agnes said, “You don’t know how this volunteer work fills my day. I hope there are a lot of clothes to be unpacked and hung on the racks.”
“I guess that’s my signal to leave,” Amelia said with a smile.
After Daisy had paid her and she’d bagged the dress, Amelia said, “I’m heading over to rehearsal at the Little Theater now. Why don’t you come with me? Jonas will be there working on the set, won’t he?”
Yes, he would. Daisy could tell herself that was the reason she was going to stop in at the dress rehearsal at Willow Creek Little Theater . . . but if she looked deeper into the idea, she knew that wasn’t the only reason.
* * *
The Willow Creek Little Theater fit into the landscape. Daisy turned off Hollowback Road onto the driveway that led around to the side of the theater where the wider parking lot was located. The building itself was cedar-shingled with a peaked roof. It almost looked like a large cabin. The land behind it was filled with pines, oaks, and maples. Beyond that, hills rolled around the property.
Although there were other entrances, Daisy and Amelia walked along the flagstone path to the portico-covered main door. Supports for the portico that were also cedar gave the illusion of a porch.
After Daisy opened one half of the double door leading into the theater, she found herself and Amelia standing in the lobby.
With a wave, Amelia said, “I’m going to see if any other volunteers are here.”
There were two bulletin boards encased in glass that were supposed to announce the upcoming shows, Daisy suspected. They were empty.
She followed a short corridor where she passed the ticket-takers’ stand and entered the rear of the theater. As soon as she did, bright lights assaulted her and she heard noise, talking, hammering, and the shuffling of feet. As she walked toward the stage, she noticed the navy cushioned seats that looked comfortable for viewing whatever the production was. There were steps on either side that led up to the stage. After taking off her winter jacket, she laid it with her purse on a front row seat. She walked toward the steps, her gaze scanning the stage for Jonas.
Spotting him, she ran up the set of stairs on the left. On the stage, however, she stopped, listening to an argument to the left of her. It was easy to recognize Daniel Copeland’s voice as he said, “I disagree. In that scene I should be firm, maybe even cutting with my words.”
Daisy heard Glenda answer, “No, you shouldn’t. You’re a father. There should be some understanding in your tone.”
Daisy wondered if this type of argument went on all the time. How would they get anything done if it did?
Before she could reach Jonas, someone on the right called her name. “Daisy, hold up,” a
