Clare O’Donohue - The Lover’s Knot

"Ryan is trying to win you back," she said.

"That's the only thing that makes sense, except he isn't exactly doing anything to get me back."

"Like what?"

"Like telling me that postponing the wedding was a big mistake. Or telling me that he never wants to be with anyone else." I took a breath. "And that's just for starters. Where are the flowers, the candy, you know… the stuff?"

"Would that make a difference?"

That stopped me. I didn't know. "It might," I said. "But it doesn't look like I'm going to find out."

Amanda sat back and took a sip of her beer. Behind her the door opened, and Jesse walked in. He waved. I waved back, and Amanda turned around to see who had caught my attention.

"Who's that?" she asked with an exaggerated smile.

"The local police chief."

"He's cute." I could tell she was heading into flirtation mode.

"He's not cute," I protested.

He'd ditched his overcoat and was wearing jeans and a sport coat layered over a navy blue V-neck sweater and T-shirt. Between the clothes, the glasses, and the low light of the pub, he looked like he belonged with the college students playing pool. When he glanced up and saw me watching, I turned back to Amanda, but he was already walking over.

"Hey there," he said and grabbed a nearby chair. "I thought you were all going back to Eleanor's for the great quilt extravaganza."

"We ran from that," Amanda said, smiling. "I'm Nell's friend Amanda. I'm up for the day from New York."

"I'm Jesse."

"Like Jesse James. Are you an outlaw, Jesse?"

It looked like he blushed a little.

"What are you doing in a bar in the middle of the day?" I changed the subject.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said.

"Drinking." I held up the beer bottle as evidence. "But you don't strike me as the kind of man who drinks in daylight or on duty."

He shrugged. "It's a nonalcohol brew."

Amanda lifted her glass. "Well, here's to hanging out in bars in the daytime, whatever you drink." Jesse and I joined her toast, sipped our beers and stared at our glasses.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Jesse cleared his throat and asked. "He hasn't decided to go back to the city, has he?"

"No. We ditched him at the house," Amanda volunteered.

Jesse shot me a surprised look. "I thought you two were back together. Judging by the looks of things in your room the other day."

I was embarrassed that Jesse knew Ryan had spent the night in my room. I was also aware of Amanda's curious eyes boring into me.

"Amanda and I wanted to talk, so we left him at the house where he is probably being fussed over by half a dozen women as we speak," I said quickly, and once again looked for a new topic. "How's the investigation going?"

"We've sorted through the fingerprints on the scissors," he said.

"So do you know who killed Marc?" I was almost afraid to ask.

"No. Unless you, Eleanor, Nancy, Carrie and the others all killed Marc together. There are at least half a dozen partial prints on that thing."

"What about Ryan?" I asked and held my breath.

"Nothing on the scissors, but there were a few prints too smudged to identify."

"But if his prints weren't on the scissors that means…," I started.

"It doesn't mean anything. Nell, it's not that simple. He isn't-"

I stopped him midsentence. "I get it. He's not out of the running."

"No one is yet," he said.

"Not even Nell?" Amanda interrupted.

"Why would you think I killed anyone?" I stammered.

Amanda looked embarrassed. "I just thought if he suspected Ryan, he must suspect you. I'm sorry. I was completely off base."

"No, you weren't," came Jesse's flat reply. "Obviously she was on the short list of suspects right at the beginning. She knew the victim, had something of a relationship with him, and had access to the shop."

"But I didn't do it," I jumped in.

Jesse nodded. "She has a pretty good alibi."

"Thanks to Eleanor." I smiled wryly. I decided to ask about one of my suspects. "Why did you jump all over Natalie today?"

He stared at the table for a moment, then asked, "Want another beer?"

Without answering my question, Jesse was up and headed toward the bar. As he was ordering, Ryan walked in.

"Well, I guess we had the same idea," he said, trying to sound casual.

"Hey," Amanda said. "Why don't you join us?"

"Thanks," I muttered and shot her a look, but she was playing innocent. Ryan took Jesse's chair and looked from me to Amanda. "So what were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," I said sharply. "I told you I wanted some time alone with Amanda."

"You weren't alone. You were drinking with that cop."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "We were talking about the grisly murder." I wasn't interested in explaining any further, so I went up to help Jesse with the drinks.

Jesse took two beers and left me with two, but I lingered just for a moment. "I'm Nell," I said to the bartender. "Were you working here Friday afternoon?"

"I own the place," he said warmly. "I'm here every night."

"There's a guy sitting at my table…"

"You mean the guy who isn't Jesse."

"Yeah. Him. Was he here Friday afternoon?"

The bartender leaned toward me. "Why don't you ask him?"

I could feel myself turning red. "Humor me. It doesn't look like it gets too crowded in the middle of the day, so if he was here, you might remember him."

"I might," he said, looking straight at Ryan. "Yeah, he was here. But if you're going to ask me how long he stayed and what he drank and who he spoke to, I can't tell you." He hesitated for a moment. "But I remember he seemed kind of upset. I do remember he was on his cell, 'cause that irritates me. He kept telling someone he'd made a big mistake."

"Did he say what mistake?"

"Not that I heard."

"Thanks," I sighed. "Sorry to bother you."

The bartender smiled and shrugged and I turned back toward the table. I caught Jesse's eye as I headed back.

"Everything okay there?" he asked.

"Perfect. I just had a question about the history of the bar," I said as innocently as possible.

Ryan had taken Jesse's seat and Jesse was sitting on my side of the booth. Amanda had left plenty of room on her side for me to sit, but that would have put me next to Ryan. So I motioned for Jesse to get up and let me in on his side. Ryan took a long gulp and set his drink loudly on the table.

"So are the three of you having fun?" Ryan asked.

"Yes, actually," I replied, trying to imitate Jesse's flat, indifferent tone, but without much success.

"Jesse has been filling us in on his hunt for the killer," Amanda told him excitedly. "Apparently, everyone in town is a suspect."

"Everyone sure seemed to hate that guy," Ryan said.

"He was hated?" Amanda seemed fascinated by this new piece of information.

Okay, I got it. No one liked him. No one but me. And apparently I was being played. Still, there's a huge difference between wanting to kill someone and actually killing him. And killing him in my grandmother's quilt shop-there was something about the location that seemed especially strange.

"Okay, so he went around making enemies everywhere he went." Amanda's face lit up as she embellished what she knew, as if she were talking through the plot of a new movie, rather than the death of a real person. "So someone goes after him and knifes him?"

"It was scissors," Jesse corrected.

"He was scissored, if that's a word," Ryan added.

"Okay, so someone came into the shop and scissored him?" Amanda was playful now and Ryan seemed to be jumping in.

"It was a real murder." I admonished them both. "Someone is dead. It would be great if you could stop using that fact to entertain yourselves."

Amanda leaned back, looking chastised. Ryan just looked annoyed. But something in what Amanda had said stuck with me. Someone had come into the shop and scissored him. I leaned toward Jesse. "But why that night? Why in the quilt shop?"