Pleating for Mercy

it, but Karen swept it all up first.

“Then when I saw you grab the jewelry bag from the street after the funeral, I knew you’d figured it out.” She looked at her reflection, then shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it. “You have such a gift. It’s too bad.” She methodically packed up my purse, all except the ring and the velvet drawstring bag.

My useless cell phone mocked me. I’d seen Gracie and Holly text without even looking. Me? I was quick when I was focused. Texting blind on a touch pad?

That was when I noticed it. A length of torn fabric braiding hanging from her hand.

She’d had the element of surprise with Nell, but she didn’t have that with me. I kept at her. “Miriam found out about the diamonds. This family’s coming apart. It’s too late, Ruthann.”

She swallowed, shaken. “What do you mean?”

“I mean—” I began. I heard someone approaching the restroom door. Blood pounded in my throat, but no one came in. My imagination.

“I mean, she knows that her brother is smuggling diamonds from country to country until he can bring them into the States. She knows that Nell was blackmailing the father of her baby and she was killed because of it. She told me everything,” I said, holding my arms out as she took a step toward me, “and I told the sheriff.”

Ruthann let out a guttural screech and lunged, but the door whooshed open, crashing into her. She fell forward, sprawling flat on the ground.

An energized Miriam careened in after her, landing on her back. I grabbed the braided cloth and wound it around Ruthann’s wrists just as Hoss McClaine burst through the door.

He took one look at us, made a quick retreat, and sent in the deputy sheriff in his place. “Let’s go,” she said, hauling Ruthann up. “You have the right to remain silent . . .”

Chapter 54

“You could have died,” Mama said after she’d heard what happened in the ladies’ room.

Ruthann McDaniels was arrested for murder. Keith and Derek Kincaid were taken into custody by the sheriff until the FBI arrived to haul them both away for smuggling conflict diamonds. Not the happiest ending for Josie and Nate’s wedding, but definitely memorable.

“But I didn’t. No one was hurt.” Except Nell.

The pink-streaked petals of the Easter lily quivered. It sat on the coffee table next to the little tin box.

“Mama,” I said with a hiss.

She snapped her gaze to the Easter lily, gave a quick little gasp, and lickety-split, fisted her hands.

Madelyn cocked a curious eyebrow. “What’s going on—”

Mama’s effort to stop wasn’t working. The flower whiffled its petals. I watched helplessly as the lily grew larger before our eyes.

“Oh!” Madelyn covered her mouth with one hand, pointing a giddy finger at the flower with the other. “Oh, look! Am I . . . is that real?” She looked at Mama, who’d cracked one eye to look at what her agitation about my encounter with a murderer was doing to the pretty flower. Madelyn’s husband, Bill, was in the kitchen fixing drinks for us. Thankfully. “I knew it!” Madelyn exclaimed.

“Mama, stop!” I ordered.

Her face was fully contorted now. She was no dainty Samantha Stevens from Bewitched, wiggling her pert little nose to put chaos in order. The streak in her hair looked more pronounced the more effort she exerted. Her face turned the color of a radish and she looked ready to blow.

“I think she’s trying,” Madelyn said, peering at Mama.

A tense minute later, the flower shivered, its petals spasming. Slowly it began shrinking, giving a final shudder as it returned to its normal size.

Mama’s face went slack. She slumped back in her chair, exhausted from the effort. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t control it.”

I snuck a look at Madelyn, the self-proclaimed magic junkie. The only way to describe her expression was electrified. She touched her fingertips to a flower petal. “I’ve never seen something so beautiful.”

My phone buzzed and a text from Will came through. On my way.

Finally.

I read it to them, relieved to see the feverish thrill pulsing through Madelyn begin to simmer down.

“Is Hoss—er, the sheriff—fixin’ to come back, too?” Mama asked when she’d regained the power of speech.

“I don’t know.” I wanted to tell her not to keep the sheriff a secret like Derek had kept Ruthann a secret, but I realized I was hiding Meemaw, keeping her to myself, so I kept my mouth shut.

A rogue thought struck me. Ever since I’d been back in Bliss, Mama had been struggling with her charm. There was nothing to warrant this change . . . except that she was in love. Was Butch’s charm also a curse? Fall in love and the charm goes haywire? Was that why Nana’s goats were always escaping? Was that why Loretta Mae had remained single after my great-great-granddaddy passed?

My temples throbbed as the next thought bounded into my mind. What would happen to my newfound charm if I fell in love?

I had no more time to think about it. Bill returned, carrying a tray of novelty glasses he’d dug out of my cupboard. He set the tray on the coffee table just as the bells hanging from the front door jingled. The door opened and, as if triggering an electrical surge, the lights flickered. A puff of air seemed to come from underneath the coffee table, fluttering the lily’s petals and forcing the fabric swatches in the little box up into the air, like tossed confetti.

They danced in midair for a split second too long, landing just as they’d been—in the box.

Meemaw.

The flickering stopped as Gracie walked in, followed by Will. Hoss McClaine came in last, closing the door behind him. Everyone talked at once, but I felt the weight of someone’s stare. Looking up, I realized it was really the weight of two people staring. Hoss McClaine and Will Flores both looked at me with undivided attention.

“Can you believe it?” I asked, trying to make light of what had been an intense afternoon. “We caught a murderer today.”

“We couldn’t have done it without you, Harlow,” the sheriff said at the same moment Will said, “You almost got yourself killed, Cassidy, and that is not what Loretta Mae would have wanted.”

Both of them had valid points. I’d done my civic duty, but now I’d do what Meemaw wanted, which was living, safe and sound, discovering family history, and forging new friendships.

I focused on Hoss McClaine. “I was lucky.”

“Some people have a knack for crime solving,” he said.

Will perched on the arm of the sofa. “You have a knack for dressmaking,” he said. “You should stick to that.”

I had a charm when it came to dressmaking, in fact. “I certainly will,” I said.

“Luckily Bliss doesn’t have a lot of murders,” Mama said, “so you’ll be able to stay out of danger, let the sheriff do his job, and do what you do best.”

“Perfect,” I said. “So we all agree. No more murder and lots of sewing. Mrs. James will be keeping me plenty busy. I won’t have time for much else anytime soon.”

I felt a tickle on my foot. Reaching down, I grabbed hold of one of the little fabric swatches I’d discovered in the pile Nell had gone through. It was the one I hadn’t recognized. The one that was plaid. The one I’d thought didn’t belong.

I’d been wrong. A crystal clear picture of a plaid shirt suddenly danced in my mind, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt, that it was meant for Will. I smiled. I’d stick to dressmaking, just like he wanted, but I knew I’d have to make the time for a special project.

I looked at my mother and Hoss McClaine. Meemaw had brought me home to them. I looked at Madelyn Brighton and her husband, and at Gracie and Will. We sat together in my perfect little dressmaking shop on Mockingbird Lane. She’d brought them all into my life. Loretta Mae had gotten what she’d wanted, true, but I