Dark in Death (In Death 46)

“The penguin fabric,” Eve reminded her.

“Yeah, I was in fabrics all day. Yarns and tools got hit even harder, but we sold miles. A lot of holiday-theme fabric for crafts, and batting. I had to break up what looked like it was going to be a fight over the last three yards of Peace on Earth, which is kind of ironic, and luckily we had another bolt in the back, but … five yards of Playful Penguins.”

Karleen came back with the bolt. Eve decided it was just as ugly in person.

“This is the last of it. It looks like about two yards. You can certainly take it with you if you need it. It’s fifty-four inches wide, and it was marked down to twelve-ninety-nine a yard on Black Friday. Another twenty-five percent discount for any purchase of five yards or more from the same bolt.”

“That’s right!” Lydia shot a finger in the air. “I forgot that. Five yards, five.” Lydia closed her eyes, put her hands over her face, ticked her head right and left. “I think I remember, a little. It’s the five yards, the extra discount. Wanted four? She said four yards, and I said if you buy five, you get another twenty-five percent off—so under ten a yard.”

She dropped her hands. “It’s what I said to anybody who wanted three to four yards, so it’s pretty blurry. And like I said, we were just slammed. But I sort of remember.”

“Can you describe her?”

“I couldn’t even start to, I’m really sorry. She wasn’t a regular. I’d remember a regular.”

“Take a look at her picture again.” Eve held it out. “It might help bring it back.”

“You can’t really see her. Did she do something really wrong?”

“Yes.”

“She wasn’t mean or rude or loud or pushy. You remember the ones who are, and I don’t. I’d have asked if she needed anything else, like you

do. Thread or buttons and so on. Maybe somebody else helped her and would remember.”

“She only bought the five yards,” Karleen said. “Cash sale. Lydia says she wasn’t a regular, but if she made that coat she’s no novice. I’m sorry we can’t be of more help.”

“It was a long shot,” Eve admitted. “If she comes back in, contact me immediately. Don’t confront her, but stall if possible.”

Karleen took the card Peabody offered. “If she comes in wearing the coat, we won’t miss her. I’ll let the rest of the staff know. Officer Peabody—”

“Ah, Detective.”

“Detective, Sherwood wants you to have this.” She offered Peabody a shopping bag.

“Oh, that’s really nice, but we’re not supposed to …”

She peeked in, all but moaned. “It’s alpaca,” she murmured, as if to a lover as she drew out skeins of soft blue, tender rose, cloudy white, and fine sand.

“Sherwood said an artist deserves good, fresh paint.”

“It’s so thoughtful, so … nice. But I really can’t.”

“I should add Sherwood owns the store—and the alpacas. He’d be very disappointed if you didn’t accept.”

“I …”

“I’m looking the other way,” Eve grumbled.

“Really?”

“I’m walking out. If you see her,” Eve repeated, “contact me.”

Peabody gathered the bag to her breasts. “Please thank him for me. I can’t wait to … I can’t wait! And I’ll be back—off duty.”

She rushed after Eve, too thrilled to remember to linger over the Egyptian cotton. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t give you anything, and I didn’t see anything. And I don’t want to hear about your new boyfriend.”