Free Cross-Stitch Before Dying by Amanda Lee Page A

with everybody,” said Detective Ray. “But she was reportedly the last person to see the victim alive.”
    “And they were overheard having a heated argument,” Detective Bailey added. He looked at his watch. “I’m afraid your time is up, Marcy. If you’d like to wait out in the hall, you may drive your mother back to Tallulah Falls when we’re done talking with her.”
    I pushed back my chair. “Mom, would you like for me to call Riley Kendall?”
    “No, thank you, darling. Alfred will be here tomorrow. Just let me finish up with Detectives Ray and Bailey, and I’ll be right out.”
    I had to wonder if on the inside she was as nonchalant about this whole ordeal as she appeared to be on the outside.
    •   •   •
    A few minutes later, Mom stepped out of the interrogation room. I started to hug her, but she kept walking. I couldn’t blame her. I was eager to put this place behind me too.
    “Let us know if you plan to leave town, Ms. Singer,” Detective Bailey said.
    “I will,” Mom and I said simultaneously.
    I smiled uncomfortably and gave the officer a little wave before turning and following Mom down the hall.
    We left the building and got into the Jeep. She remained stoic until I’d pulled out of the parking lot. Then she uttered a slight squeak and slumped in her seat.
    I put on my signal light to move onto the shoulder of the road.
    “Don’t you dare stop here,” Mom said. “I don’t want them to see us and think I’m upset. Take me to your place.”
    “Okay.” I turned the signal light off and accelerated. “What happened when you went to the set this morning?”
    “Henry said Babs was aggravated with me because the initial costumes I’d made for her didn’t fit properly.” She huffed. “If you’d seen how that girl has been gorging herself at the hospitality table, you’d understand
why
the clothes I fitted her with last week will barely button now.”
    “So Henry called you over there to get new measurements?” I asked.
    “Yes. So I went to the tent the crew has set up near an old mill. Ms. Hoity-Toity was in the tent waiting for me, attitude and all.” Mom checked herself for a second. “I’m sorry to speak ill of the dead, and it’s a tragedy she died so young. But that’s just the way it happened. We had words.”
    “That would be where the
heated argument
overheard by witnesses comes in.”
    “Hey, she started it, not me,” Mom said. “She insinuated that I’d measured her incorrectly the first time. She told me that if I’d known what I was doing to start with, we wouldn’t be doing this again.”
    I pursed my lips.
Ouch.
    “I told
her
that if she’d ever met a cookie she could resist, we wouldn’t be remeasuring,” she said.
    I winced.
Double ouch.
    “And that’s when the argument got heated,” Mom finished.
    “I can imagine. Did the argument escalate into any slapping or hair-pulling . . . ?”
    “Or blunt-force trauma? No, Marcella, it did not!”
    “Oh, Mom, I know you didn’t kill her. That’s not what I meant. I’m just trying to get all the facts to help ensure you’ll have a good defense.”
    “You
do
think I did it!”
    “No, I don’t,” I insisted. “But if you end up getting charged with murder, you’re going to need an excellent attorney to
prove
you didn’t do it.”
    “I’m not being charged with anything. I didn’t
do
anything.”
    “And how many movie scripts have you read where the heroine said the same thing and had a heck of a time proving it?”
    She sighed. “Just take me home please. I’d like to lie down.”
    •   •   •
    I dropped Mom off at home and returned to the Seven-Year Stitch. Vera was full of questions, as I’d expected her to be. Like Mom, I was worn out with the entire ordeal, so I merely told Vera that Tallulah County police detectives were questioning everyone to determine exactly what had happened to Ms. Tru.
    “But they do believe Babs was murdered, don’t they?” Vera