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  “He’s like a comfortable old shoe,” Sophie responded with a coy smile.

  As they were approaching Sophie’s front door, Cornelius hesitated as if he had something to say. She sat down on her rocker and motioned for him to sit down next to her. He continued to stand, holding his hat against his chest with both hands like protective armor.

  “Sophie, dear, I have something to ask of you, and I hope you won’t be offended.”

  “Yes?” she responded, squaring her shoulders and beginning to bristle. “And just what would that be?”

  Feeling apprehensive, he began with a slight stutter. “It’s about … about my name.”

  “And what about your name?”

  “I don’t like it that you call me Corny.” He blurted it out, his eyes searching her face to see how she took it.

  Sophie was quiet for a moment, appearing to be contemplating his request. Finally she spoke, saying, “Well, having read your verses, I can see that you might not like to be called Corny. That just might be a little too close to home. What would you like to be called?”

  He didn’t answer right away; he was still thinking about her first response. There seemed to have been an insult in there, but he wasn’t quite sure. Finally he spoke up, saying, “Cornelius. Cornelius Higginbottom. That’s my name.”

  “Okay, Higgy. Unless you’re hearing back from a greeting card company, you’ll never hear the word corny again.”

  Higgy, he thought. I don’t like it, but it’s better than Corny.

  * * * * *

  Charles burst in the front door carrying the newspaper. He shouted for Sarah to come see the headline.

  “What is it, Charles? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Max Coleman is dead,” he said as he handed her the paper and sunk down on the couch.

  Chapter 19

  Sarah hurried over to Sophie’s house with the newspaper in her hand. Charles had just driven off, heading for the job site to see what Larry could tell him. The newspaper had been vague about the details, only reporting that he was found dead over the weekend.

  “Maxwell Coleman, foreman for B&H Construction, was found dead on a company job site in Cunningham Village, a retirement community in Middletown.” Sarah looked up at Sophie for a moment, and then continued to read. “Detective Frank Oarsman of MPD reported late Sunday that the case is being investigated as a homicide. Coleman had been with the company for fifteen years. B&H has declined to comment.”

  “A murder?” Sophie repeated, looking shocked. “A murder right here in the Village?”

  “Who would do this?” Sarah said, not expecting an answer but finding herself actually thinking of several people who might want him dead. They turned the local news station on and sat through the weather and an advertisement for denture adhesive before the station returned to their continuing report on Max’s murder. This was the biggest news item the station had carried for many months.

  The police chief introduced Detective Oarsman and announced that he would be lead detective in the investigation. Detective Oarsman, a young officer with a very serious look, took the podium but didn’t reveal many more details than Sarah and Sophie had read in the newspaper. He did say they had the murder weapon and several leads.

  Sarah missed her friend Amanda but never more than at that moment. Amanda was a young police officer and fellow quilter who had helped Sarah and her friends on several occasions over the past few years. She had applied to the LAPD earlier in the year and was delighted to have been accepted. Amanda’s parents and her older sister lived in the Los Angeles area and were eager to have her out there, too.

  “Too bad Amanda’s gone,” Sophie said, seeming to have read Sarah’s thoughts. “She’d tell us what’s really going on.”

  “Maybe,” Sarah responded, “but I think Charles will be able to find out. He still has friends in the police department.”

  About that time, they heard Charles’ car pull up. Sarah hurried to the door and motioned for him to come over to Sophie’s house. He looked hesitant but walked toward her at an unusually fast pace.

  “What did you learn?” she asked before he got in the door.

  “Nothing,” he responded. “They closed down the work site. It’s now a crime scene.”

  “Our new home is a crime scene?” Sarah cried.

  “Don’t worry. It won’t be for long. I’m heading over to the station to talk to some of the guys.” Sarah and Sophie encouraged him on his way; they were eager to know the whole story.

  As Charles drove out of the community and headed for the police station, he realized it was somewhat of a letdown to be outside the system. Murder was a rare thing in the quiet little town of Middletown, and he would have enjoyed honing his investigative skills. As a detective in Middletown, he had had few experiences with this level of crime. Maybe they’ll let me help out, he thought, but didn’t really expect that would happen.

  As it turned out, no one was available to talk with him when he arrived. He waited around for an hour and ultimately had a chance to spend a few minutes with his old lieutenant, Matthew Stokely, who was getting ready to retire. “I don’t know much about it, Charles. I understand you knew the man.”

  They talked for a while about his connection to Max and the house that he and Sarah were having built. Charles asked about Matt’s retirement plans and learned he had recently bought a cottage on the western coast of Florida. Matt was eager to begin retirement life. “Retirement’s good,” Charles said somewhat reluctantly. “Sometimes I miss the action, but life has been good.” Especially since marrying Sarah, he thought but didn’t add.

  “How are the boys doing?” Stokely asked. He had known Charles since his boys were young.

  “Who knows,” he responded. Both men shook their heads in resignation. Stokely was one of the few people who knew what Charles had been though during those earlier days.

  * * * * *

  Over the next week, Charles and Sarah waited, hoping to hear more. The crew returned to work on the following Monday and Charles stopped by during the day to see if he could talk to Larry.

  “No reason to wait ’til dark now,” Larry said. It had only been Max that Charles had been avoiding; the other guys were friendly enough and seemed to have forgotten about the ban.

  “What’s the word on this?” Charles asked, hoping to hear some of the scuttlebutt.

  “I’ve been questioned a few times, but they don’t tell me Jack Schitt.”

  “They questioned you?” Charles replied in disbelief. “Why?”

  “They questioned the whole crew. They just asked what we knew, what we saw—you know the drill. You were one of those guys, right?”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I told them what an ass the man was and that there was probably folks standing in line to kill him. They didn’t think that was funny. Do those guys ever smile?”

  Charles shook his head knowingly, and the two men continued to talk about Larry’s experience with the detectives. “It felt a little scary, like they thought I might have killed ol’ Max.”

  “Don’t worry, Larry. That’s the game. They try to make everyone feel guilty, hoping that the one guilty person will break down and confess. A confession is always their best bet.”

  That afternoon, Charles returned to the police station and was able to meet with the investigating officer, Frank Oarsman. He wanted to offer any help they might need since he lived right in the Village and was involved with B&H. Oarsman seemed eager to talk with him and asked most of the same questions he had asked Larry.

  “You’re good at this interrogation stuff,” Charles said jokingly as he was leaving the office. “You almost had me ready to confess.” Oarsman’s expression remained unchanged.

  As he was walking down the hall toward the intake desk, he saw Bill Braxton approaching from the opposite direction. A young female officer was accompanying him. “How you doing?” Charles said amicably as they passed, but Braxton didn’t respond.
What was that all about? he wondered as he continued on out to the parking lot.

  When Charles returned home, there was a squad car in front of their house. He hurried in and found an officer sitting at his kitchen table sipping coffee. The man stood and introduced himself as Officer O’Brian. He said he had been assigned to the Coleman case and was questioning possible witnesses.

  “I just spent a grueling two hours with your boss. You guys need to get together,” Charles said with a chuckle. “What can we do for you?”

  “Nothing now. I just had a pleasant visit with your wife, and I’m sure Oarsman covered all the questions we had for you.” As he stood, he turned to Sarah and said, “Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate your candor. We’ll be getting back to you folks if we have any other questions.”

  Chapter 20

  “What’s going on next door?” Sarah asked as she approached the quilt shop. There were trucks outside, and workmen appeared to be rebuilding the internal walls.

  “I rented it just last week,” Ruth responded excitedly. “The bookstore moved out, and they haven’t been able to rent it. I offered a much lower amount than they were asking. They must have been desperate—they took it!” Ruth was excitedly running around the shop with a notebook, making notes.

  “What will you be doing with it?” Sarah asked, surprised about the change.

  “Classrooms! I’m putting in dividers for two classrooms. That way you and I can teach at the same time. Also, Anna is going to teach hand quilting. I keep getting requests for classes that I just can’t fill with that tiny little classroom at the back of the shop.”

  It was true. Sarah knew that a class size of six strained the space. “This is exciting!” she responded.

  Looking very serious and laying her hand on Sarah’s arm, Ruth changed the subject and asked about the murder. “Did you know the man?”

  Sarah explained their connection but admitted she didn’t know much in the way of details.

  “Is this going to set back the work on your house?”

  “Not much. The crew is finally back on the job.” Wanting to get away from the subject, Sarah walked over and picked up a bolt of red fabric. “I need a border for my oriental quilt. What do you think of this?”

  “I think the color is perfect, but don’t you want to stick with the Asian-inspired line?”

  “Aren’t they too busy? My squares are a jumble of geisha, cranes, birds, lanterns, dragons, koi, and flowers of every description. I was thinking the borders should be very plain.”

  “I agree, but come look at these tone-on-tones that just came in.” Ruth walked back to the oriental display and pulled out a tonal fabric that was several shades of garnet red. “This is an acanthus leaf. I would suggest using a solid black inner border and this with your fabrics. It also comes in black if that would look better. In fact, why don’t you bring your quilt top in, and we’ll audition several of these tonals?” Sarah was already thinking that she might use the oriental red as a thin inner border and the black tonal for the larger border.

  “Perfect. I’ll try to come by tomorrow. By the way, when does my next class start?”

  “I was looking at September, but let’s see how soon the rooms are finished. We might do a late summer class.” Sarah thanked Ruth and headed home to have lunch with Sophie.

  “Did you eat?” she asked Charles as she greeted Barney and headed for the bedroom to change her shoes. “You remembered I’m having lunch with Sophie today, right?”

  “I remembered, but I’m not really hungry. I’m going to work on that doghouse we were talking about. I want to have it ready for Barney when we move.” Charles had expressed his belief that Barney would enjoy having a house of his own in the backyard once they moved. Sarah felt certain it was Barney’s preference to always be wherever they were, but she decided that building the house would be fun for Charles and maybe Barney would, indeed, enjoy it—especially when they were all outside. With a patio, they would probably spend more time outside than they did now.

  “Okay. I’m off,” she called to him, and he met her at the front door with a loving kiss and a gentle pat on the rump that made her reprimand him with a giggle.

  “Have fun,” he called after her.

  As she was leaving, a police car pulled up to the curb. I guess they decided that they need his help after all, she thought as she hurried across the street.

  * * * * *

  Sarah and Sophie moved to the living room after enjoying a relaxed lunch in Sophie’s kitchen. Sophie turned the television on, and Sarah placed their coffee cups on the Log Cabin coasters she had made for Sophie at her quilt club the previous week.

  Sophie was still standing near the television when Sarah said, “Could we watch the news for a few minutes, Sophie? I didn’t have time to read the paper this morning.”

  Sophie picked up the remote and switched to the local news channel. “This channel?” she asked.

  “I was actually hoping for some national news, but …” She stopped in the middle of her sentence, shocked to see Charles’ picture flash onto the screen. “Wait!” she shouted. “Listen!”

  The words at the bottom of the screen read “Breaking News” and the anchorman was speaking.

  “Local resident and retired police officer, Charles Parker, was arrested today for the murder of Maxwell Coleman, foreman with B&H Construction. The body was discovered Sunday morning on the construction site where Parker was having a home built. Stay tuned for more on this …”

  Sophie reached for Sarah just as she began to collapse. She was able to guide her onto the couch so she wouldn’t fall to the floor. All color had drained from Sarah’s face as she muttered, “Oh, Sophie, this is all my fault.”

  Chapter 21

  “It’s not your fault, Mrs. Parker.”

  Sarah received the call from Graham Holtz within moments of returning home from Sophie’s house. Graham was an attorney and long-time friend of Charles. He explained that he received a call from Charles and was on his way to the police station, but first Charles wanted him to call her. “He said to tell you it’s all a mistake, and he’ll be home as quickly as we can work this out.”

  “Of course it’s a mistake,” she said impatiently. “But why do they think he’s guilty? I shouldn’t have told that officer about the problems with the house. He just got me talking, and before I knew it …”

  “They didn’t arrest him because of anything you said, Sarah. I spoke with the prosecutor’s office just a few minutes ago. They have his prints on the murder weapon and some other incriminating evidence that I don’t know about yet. I’m on my way to find out everything and see Charles.”

  “Incriminating evidence? How can that be? You know Charles, and you know as well as I do that he’s innocent!”

  “Of course he’s innocent, Sarah. Of course he is.” Graham tried to sound confident, but he too was worried. He didn’t share it with Sarah, but he was also told there were witnesses to threats being made during an argument between Charles and the victim. “I’ll find out what’s going on, and I’ll let you know the minute I know something.”

  “When can I see him?”

  “Not until he’s been booked and processed. I’ll be with him the whole way, and I’ll call you when I know something. Just sit tight. Give me your cell number in case you go somewhere.”

  Sarah gave him the number but added, “I won’t be going anywhere except to see Charles.”

  Barney’s tail and ears were so low they were practically dragging the ground. Even little Boots had curled up on top of the refrigerator and quietly watched Sarah with apprehension. “It’s going to work out. You’ll see,” she reassured them both in an attempt to reassure herself.

  An hour later, and still no word from Graham Holtz. Sarah called his office and got voice mail. “Enough waiting,” she said aloud and grabbed her sweater. She called her daughter Martha to see if she would go to the police station with her, but there was no answer there, either. “Doesn’t anyone s
tay home anymore?” she grumbled as she grabbed her car keys and ran out to the car.

  “Wait for me!” she heard as she was starting the car. Sophie was tapping her cane across the street and heading for the passenger door. “I’m going with you,” she said as she arranged herself on the seat and struggled to get the seat belt across her hefty body. Sarah started to object, but Sophie was clearly hearing none of it, and she was relieved to have someone with her. “Let’s roll,” Sophie announced.

  When they arrived at the police station, it was late afternoon. Shifts were changing, and the desk sergeant made several calls in order to track down Charles’ current location in the system. “He’s being booked,” the sergeant said kindly. “You can sit over there.” He then added, “He’ll be okay, Mrs. Parker. He’s a good man.”

  “You know my husband,” she responded, looking thankful.

  “You bet I do. I know his attorney, too. If it can be done, Graham Holtz can do it. Charlie’s in good hands.” She wasn’t used to hearing her husband be called Charlie, but she was glad so many of the officers knew him.

  “He’s innocent, you know,” she said softly as she walked away. When she turned to sit down, she saw that he was nodding his head reassuringly.

  Sarah and Sophie sat on the bench for an hour waiting to see someone, hopefully Charles or Graham. A tall detective dressed in tan slacks and a navy blazer stepped in the lobby and looked around until he spotted the two women. “Mrs. Parker?” he asked, looking at Sarah.

  “Yes? Can you tell me what’s happening with Charles?”

  “His attorney will be out to see you in a few minutes, and the two of you will be able to meet with Mr. Parker.”