Софи Келли - A Midwinter's Tail

I nodded, not exactly sure where the conversation was going.

“You know that Burtis worked for him.”

“I do,” I said.

She fiddled with the stack of bracelets on her left arm. “And you’ve probably heard the stories that Burtis took over part of my grandfather’s business.”

I nodded again.

Ruby stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jeans and scraped one sneakered foot on the floor. “A lot of people would tell you that Idris Blackthorne was a criminal, and I guess if you go by a strict definition of right and wrong, black and white, he was.”

“In my experience the world isn’t always black and white,” I said.

That got me a smile and a slight nod. “As long as you played it straight and fair with my grandfather, you wouldn’t have any problems. But if you lied to him or tried to cheat him, you had an enemy for the rest of your life.”

It occurred to me that minus the illegal businesses, Idris Blackthorne sounded a lot like my mother.

“Burtis was friends with my grandfather until the day he died. In some ways he’s like family.”

“I don’t think Burtis had anything to do with Dayna’s death, either,” I said.

Ruby’s shoulders seemed to relax just a little. “I was hoping you’d say that,” she said. “You know everyone isn’t going to feel that way.”

“I know,” I said. “I also know that no matter what Burtis does for a living, fundamentally he has a lot of integrity.”

She exhaled slowly. “You know how I told you I’d seen Brady having some kind of heated conversation with Dayna at the fundraiser?”

I nodded.

She crossed her arms over her chest, almost as though she was hugging herself. “I was worried about the backdrop. Afraid it wouldn’t look good or hang right, so I kept checking on it in the beginning.” She gave me a sheepish look. “I also saw—and heard— Burtis and Dayna. And they were fighting.”

I studied her face. “You didn’t say anything before.” This just confirmed what Roma had told me.

She shook her head. “I didn’t. Dayna is—was—Burtis’s ex-wife. They fight and the next thing you know, she’s dead. You know what people would think.” She gave a slight shrug. “I know what it’s like to be suspected of something you didn’t do.”

“I don’t think it means anything,” I said, jiggling my keys in my jacket pocket. “Burtis and Dana used to be married and she hadn’t been back here in a long, long time. They probably had more than one thing to argue about.”

Ruby shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. “I didn’t hear much of what they were saying to each other, but I did hear Burtis say, ‘It would be better if you were just dead.’”

I swallowed, hoping my face wasn’t giving away the little pulse of anxiety I suddenly felt. “That doesn’t mean he killed her, Ruby,” I said. “When I was in sixth grade, Kevin Monaghan snuck into the girls’ locker room, swiped my bra from my locker and draped it over the trophy case just outside the gym doors. I chased him down the hall, across the teachers’ parking lot and onto the track.”

I could still remember the mix of embarrassment and fury that had propelled my legs. “I was yelling that when I caught him I was going to drag him into the girls’ washroom, stick his head in a toilet and flush until he drowned.”

Ruby laughed. “Would you believe I said the same thing to Larry Taylor? I think we were in seventh grade, though. And substitute underwear for bra and flagpole for trophy case.”

I shook my head. “Boys going through puberty really are an alien species,” I said. “My long-winded point is you said it but you didn’t actually do it.”

She gave an offhand shrug. “Only because Agatha stopped me after the second flush.”

I exhaled loudly. “Okay, bad example to make my point. But it’s still valid—more or less. Most of us say things like I’m going to flush your head until you drown, or I wish you were dead, but we don’t really mean it and we don’t follow through.”

Ruby nodded. “I get it, Kathleen. I really do. But what do I do if Marcus or Hope Lind asks me what I saw and heard the night of the fundraiser?”

“You tell them the truth,” I said. “I know you and Marcus have had your issues, but he isn’t going to jump to conclusions and neither is Detective Lind.”

“Okay,” she said. She smiled. “Thanks.”

“I’d better get to the library,” I said. I reached for one of the boxes and Ruby grabbed the other.

I noticed then that Ruby had one of the little chocolate boxes from the fundraiser sitting on her worktable. She followed my gaze. “There aren’t any chocolates in it. It’s one of Nic’s prototypes. He asked for my opinion when he was working on the design.”

It occurred to me that I knew nothing about Nicolas Sutton. I remembered that I’d seen him tweaking the way the little boxes had been arranged on one of the serving trays. Could he have tampered with the chocolates? Why would he?

“I didn’t know the two of you were friends,” I said as we started down the hall to the stairs.

“We’re not, really,” she said. “I just like his work. And we’re both a little eclectic in our art. Nic’s a found metal artist. He plays with paper a little—well, you know about that—and does some stuff with photography.”

“How did he end up in Mayville Heights?”

Ruby stopped at the head of the stairs. “Why are you asking?”

“Curiosity,” I said with a shrug. At least that was true. “Those boxes he made. I’ve never seen such detailed work with paper before.”

“Yeah, he’s really good,” Ruby said as we started down the steps. “Maggie wants him to do some workshops when we get the space set up at the store.” She shifted the box in her arms, balancing it on her hip. “I know he was living in Minneapolis. I don’t know if that’s home or not. He said he had some personal stuff and he wanted a new start.”

“Mayville Heights is a good place for that,” I said with a smile.

“So, things are good with you and Marcus?” she asked.

I nodded and I couldn’t help smiling.

She smiled back at me. “Well, I think you’re good for him. You know, my grandmother used to say, ‘There’s a cover for every pot.’ Of course, then she’d say, ‘But if you don’t have a cover, you can use a big plate.’” Ruby laughed, her pigtails bobbing. “I have no idea what that means.”

I grinned back at her. “Me either.”

We put the boxes on the front seat of the truck and I thanked her again.

“I’ll see you at class tomorrow night,” she said.

At least we could start decorating the building for the holidays, I thought as I drove over to the library. I hadn’t really found out anything about Nic Sutton and I realized how far-fetched it would be that he knew Dayna, had ended up in Mayville Heights and then had killed her.

I was grasping at straws because I really didn’t know what else to do.

11

Marcus called about nine thirty. “Can you take a break in about half an hour?” he asked.

Mary and I were walking around the main floor of the building trying to decide on the best places for the new Christmas tree.

“I can,” I said. “Are you coming over?”

“I need to ask you a few more questions about Thursday night,” he said.

“I’ll make a new pot of coffee.”

“You two are adorable,” Mary said after I’d hung up.

I made a face at her.

Marcus showed up exactly at ten o’clock, carrying two white cardboard boxes that I knew had come from Eric’s. He was wearing his heavy dark blue hooded parka and there were a few snowflakes dusting his dark hair.

He handed me the smaller of the two and took the other one over to Mary at the circulation desk. “Happy National Pastry Day,” he said.