Deadly Notions - By Elizabeth Lynn Casey Page 0,84
say as I blame you but don’t you think you might be sniffin’ in the wrong hole?”
“I’m pretty sure she stole some of Ashley’s designs in order to get some much needed attention for her own company.”
A moment of silence was followed by a string of questions, most of which Tori was able to answer. Except one.
“I’m not sure about the motive. Simply stealing the designs with the intent to further her own company doesn’t explain why she was contemplating the use of Penelope’s name on her logos.”
Another gasp filled her ear. “She was goin’ to put Penelope’s name on designs she stole from her mamma? After she murdered her to get them?”
“Now you see my dilemma. It doesn’t add up. It’d be like putting a neon sign over your head saying, ‘I’m a killer, I’m a killer.’ ”
“But you said she changed her mind, didn’t you?”
“She did. But she considered it, Margaret Louise. I saw the logo with my own two eyes.”
“Maybe there’s a piece we’re missin’.”
“If there is, I’m not seeing it.”
“Hush. Give me a moment.”
She kept quiet, a smile playing across her lips as she imagined Margaret Louise in deep thought while Leona stomped around in the background.
After what seemed like an eternity, she leaned forward and glanced at the clock.
10:30 p.m.
“Margaret Louise, I need to get some sleep. Maybe we could table this until morning? I’m meeting Milo at the bakery at seven and—”
“That’s it!”
“What?”
“Remember what Debbie said the other day? When we were finishin’ up the last few pieces for Operation Play Food?”
“Um, I’m not sure. What did she say?”
A deep inhale was followed by an even louder exhale. “She said Ashley had a meetin’ with Beth the mornin’ of the party, remember?”
She sat up straight, Margaret Louise’s words ringing a series of bells in her head.
“She said that Beth was dressed all fancy-like and that Ashley had her leather portfolio—”
“Open on the table between them,” she finished for her friend. “I remember!”
“And remember, she said they were acting like the best of friends by the time the meeting was over.”
She mulled Debbie’s words in her head, the accuracy of her memory buoyed by the confirmation Margaret Louise provided. “So maybe Ashley intended to give the designs to Beth and something went wrong.”
“Maybe she had second thoughts?”
“Maybe. I just wish Debbie had heard something that could confirm or deny what we’re guessing.”
“You could ask Samantha. Maybe she overheard somethin’.”
“Samantha? As in Samantha Smith? Why would she have overheard . . .” Her words trailed off as she remembered the second part of what Debbie had said. The part about Samantha shooting daggered eyes in Ashley’s direction that same morning . . .
Chapter 31
She studied the various morning offerings in the breakfast case—her gaze skirting the bagels and muffins in favor of the cakes and donuts.
It was no use. She was hopeless when it came to food.
“Hey there, Victoria, aren’t you up early?”
“Up would imply I slept.”
“And you didn’t?”
She pondered Debbie’s question for all of about ten seconds. “No. Which is why I need that”—she pointed to the caramel-drizzled chocolate-covered donuts on the top shelf—“or, rather, two of that, I mean, those.”
“Proper grammar is not necessary before seven a.m.” Debbie grabbed a doily-draped plate from the counter and carried it over to the case. “Two, you said?”
Tori nodded. “And a large hot chocolate. With lots of whipped cream.”
Debbie shook her head. “I don’t know where you put this, I really don’t.”
“Let’s hope it stays that way. Though, at the moment, that’s the least of my worries.”
“What’s wrong?”
She glanced over her shoulder at the line, stopping when she reached the count of ten in her head. “I’ll catch you up later. When things settle down a little.”
“Are you staying?”
“I’m meeting Milo.”
“Sounds good. I’ll bring your hot chocolate out to you in a minute.”
Armed with her plate of donuts, Tori wandered into the dining area, her gaze settling on the table she’d sat at with Nina just the night before. She started toward it only to have her progress thwarted by Milo’s arrival.
“Hey there.” He gestured toward her plate. “Didn’t sleep well, huh?”
“Am I that transparent?”
He grinned. “I just know you.”
“You better run.”
“Never.” Leaning forward, he whispered a kiss across her forehead. “Grab a seat and I’ll be right over. I just want to grab a tea.”
She had just sat down when Debbie appeared beside her table with her hot chocolate. “I told Milo to sit. I’ll bring his tea over so he doesn’t have to waste his