“A drunk is dead weight,” Eric said. “And very difficult to get to the second floor.”
Jennifer smiled at me. “In case you didn’t know it, Eric is the unofficial matchmaker of the Quarter. It seems he can find someone for anyone.”
She gave me a wink, as if I needed a matchmaker. I smiled, trying my best not to be offended.
“Since Jenny is single,” Eric said. “I’ve been on the lookout for the right man for her. She’s had her fill of bar flies, so I’m looking for a gentleman.”
“You’re a gentleman, aren’t you?” I asked Eric.
“Indeed, I am, but Jenny should survey the field for a bit, don’t you think?”
“I’m in no hurry,” Jennifer said. “But Eric would be quite a catch. He’s so handy with things.”
They traded a look that could have interpreted as a secret between lovers. Were they? Had Eric fallen for her?
“Did Thomas know it took the two of you to get him home?”
Jennifer eyed me. “What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I was just wondering about what Thomas might have known.”
“No, you’re prying,” Eric said. “And I, for one, don’t like it.”
“You should leave,” Jennifer added. “I get the feeling you’re fishing for information that you don’t deserve to have.”
I held up my hands and backed away. “Honestly, I was just wondering, but I can take a hint. I didn’t mean to upset anyone.”
They glared me out the door, and I wanted to kick myself. I hadn’t had a chance to quiz Eric about bowmakers. And I certainly hadn’t ascertained if Eric had tried to match Thomas with someone, so “Jenny” would be free. I wondered if it had been Eric who suggested to Jennifer that a divorce might be a good thing. I wondered how much Eric knew about the insurance policy. Even a fey spirit could use money.
Gwen steamed past me as soon as I entered the store.
“If you don’t do something about that, that weeper, I’m going to do something. And it won’t be pretty.”
With that, she was out the door, before I could even answer. But I knew what she meant. Roxanne, no doubt, had come down with a touch of melancholy, and that had driven Gwen to distraction. I had wanted to inform Gwen of my latest suspicions about Jennifer and Eric. Gwen was often a solid sounding board for my theories. And, I would have suggested that she stop by the flower shop and get a read on Eric’s feelings. If Gwen found a strong desire for Jennifer, I had my killers. Eric wouldn’t be the first man to fall for a pretty woman—or the last.
Since Gwen was not available, I called Jacob. He needed to know about Eric and Jennifer. He had access to more information than I did. He might be able to link them in ways I couldn’t find. But Jacob wasn’t answering his phone. I left a cryptic message asking him to call me back. I didn’t leave anything too telling, which I hoped would stoke his interest. Still, I was pretty proud of myself. With some official digging, Jacob might well solve the murder. I would see Jennifer and Eric in jail, although Eric would probably disappear before any trial. As a Cupid, he could modify himself at a whim. And he could find work anywhere. There were always couples who needed to be nudged into a relationship. And Eric was a well-versed nudger.
At that moment, Orchid and Zephyr arrived, and they were beside themselves.
“You should not have left Gwen in charge,” Orchid said.
“She banished Roxanne to the second floor—indefinitely,” Zephyr added.
“You should know this,” Orchid said. “Roxanne took it quite hard.”
“I do hope you will remember this in the future.”
Orchid and Zephyr did an about face and marched away, leaving me with the message but with no method to give them what they wanted. The only cure for Roxanne was her necklace, and the chances of finding that were not good. I told myself that I would solve the Roxanne problem once I had solved the murder problem. If I didn’t find the real killer, the Roxanne problem would solve itself, as I doubted she would visit me in prison.
Despite Orchid and Zephyr, I was not going to chase down Roxanne and apologize for Gwen. I knew that Roxanne would soon drift down from the second floor and boo-hoo her way to me. For the moment, I was content to leave well enough alone.
The man who walked through the door was short and stocky and in his 40s somewhere. He took off the straw hat that covered his baldness and grinned as he approached. I could tell he was a native, not a tourist. He was on a mission, not a fishing trip.
“Excuse me,” the man said. “My name is George Ross, and I’m looking for something special.”
“What might that be?” I asked.
“A ring, an antique ring. Would y’all have something like that?”
“Indeed, I do,” I said. “I have a whole display of them. Follow me.”
I led him across the floor. “Is this for a special occasion?” I asked.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I am celebratin’ the demise of Thomas Jamison.”
George laughed.
Chapter 13
I stopped and looked at George. “What was that? You’re celebrating his death?”
“Not directly, ma’am. You see, some months ago, Thomas Jamison flirted my girl right out of my arms. He seemed to have a way with words, something I have never been blessed with. He and that Eric fella chatted up Crystal, and she dumped me. Well, with Thomas Jamison gone to his maker, I intend to win Crystal back, as she is as pretty as a mountain morning and as soft as spring dew. A charming ring will put me back in the runnin’ for her heart.”
I was almost too stunned to help George. Before he arrived, I was pretty sure I had found the killers of Thomas Jamison. As I helped him decide on a beautiful cameo ring set in gold, I realized that there were probably a dozen jilted lovers who would be only too happy to fire an arrow into Thomas’ heart. With Eric’s help, Thomas had, no doubt, wooed a number of women, women who had husbands and lovers. Those men possessed motive. Some of them would also possess a bow and arrow, or they could easily acquire what had killed Thomas. Since Thomas was a known drunk, it would take little skill to follow him into an alley and free up the woman Thomas had stolen.
I was back at square one.
There was a swarm of possible killers.
I had foolishly settled on the only ones I knew.
George was grinning, as he left the store. I almost advised him to show the ring to Eric, who might have a valuable opinion. But I didn’t. I was pretty sure that if George gave the ring away inside the bar, he would get a favorable reply. Eric would see to that. Energy depleted, I sat on my stool behind the counter and wondered just how many dumped men I might have to chase down. I needed to start a list, but I didn’t have the energy. Luckily, at that moment, Gigi walked in.
I stood and smiled, wondering what had brought Gigi to my store.
“Hey,” Gigi said. “Did you find the craft fair? And did you manage to chase down a necklace?”
“I did find the fair,” I said. “But the necklace still eludes me. What can I do for you?”
“I’m in the market for a crafting table, as the one I have has seen better days. I don’t need anything new or fancy, just large. A large desk will do. Sometimes, my work takes up a lot of space. So, if you have something big and cheap, I’ll take it.”