| |
POSY’S FACE WAS HOPEFUL when she saw Beatrice come through the door, but when Beatrice shook her head, it crumpled. “Oh, no,” she said, putting her hands to her face. “What happened, Beatrice?’
Beatrice quietly gave her the bad news. Posy’s gentle eyes filled with tears. “Oh, that poor girl.”
Beatrice reached out to give Posy a hug. Posy hugged her hard and then pulled back. She said with wide eyes, “And you found her. I’m so sorry, Beatrice. Sorry that you had to go through that.”
Beatrice shook her head. “It was better this way, Posy. What if Salome’s sister and daughter had found her? It would have been so much worse.”
Posy said sadly, “I just never thought that something this serious could have happened to her. I figured that maybe she had some car trouble because she drove an old car. Or that maybe she’d had a long night with Jenna keeping her up and had overslept. Or that she was sick or something. I never expected that something like this could have happened.”
“What happened?” demanded a crotchety and elderly voice from the sitting area.
Posy’s eyes opened wide. She whispered to Beatrice, “Miss Sissy took quite a liking to Salome and Jenna. She’s not going to take this well.”
Miss Sissy, always spryer than you’d think she’d be, darted toward them. Her wiry hair had mostly come out of the messy bun she always sported, and she looked as if she’d just woken up. Beatrice winced. Miss Sissy could be moody at the best of times but if she was upset then she made everyone have a rough day.
Fortunately, Miss Sissy was briefly waylaid by Maisie the shop cat. While she bent over to gently pet the cat, Beatrice hissed to Posy, “I’ll trade you. Could you take Noo-noo for the afternoon, and I’ll take Miss Sissy?”
Posy quickly said, “You know I’d love to have Noo-noo here. Do you mind taking Miss Sissy? I know that everyone who comes in the shop is going to be talking about Salome and that’s not going to be a good distraction for her.”
“Absolutely,” said Beatrice. “It’s no trouble at all.”
Except that it did end up being some trouble. Beatrice ran back home to pick up Noo-noo and drop her off at the shop. Then she persuaded a particularly sour and angry Miss Sissy into her car.
“Stay on the road!” barked the old woman as Beatrice headed back home.
“I am on the road,” said Beatrice through gritted teeth. From the way Miss Sissy drove, the old woman’s impression of what constituted the road was decidedly skewed.
Trying to get Miss Sissy’s attention off of the road, Beatrice started talking about the kitchen project. “So at some point, Len is coming back over, and you and I can sit outside in the backyard.”
Miss Sissy looked suspicious. “Not in the hammock.” Her snarl indicated her general mistrust and disregard for the ropy recliner.
“I may get in the hammock, if you won’t. But there is a table and chairs out there, too,” said Beatrice, trying to sound persuasive. The last thing Posy needed was for Miss Sissy to disapprove of the arrangements and ask to go back to the Patchwork Cottage.
Miss Sissy grunted.
“We could have a picnic out there,” suggested Beatrice. Then she pressed her lips together. She couldn’t possibly host a picnic on the scale that would be needed for the always-ravenous Miss Sissy with the yogurt, bread, and peanut butter that she knew to be at the house.
Now Miss Sissy had perked up, however. “Yes, a picnic.”
Beatrice said slowly, “Okay. The only problem is that there isn’t a lot of food in the house because Wyatt and I have been eating a lot of sandwiches since we can’t use the kitchen.”
Miss Sissy scowled at her, and Beatrice quickly said, “So let’s turn around and go by the grocery store. We can pick up things for the picnic and maybe some more paper plates and plastic cups since it’s tricky to get to the dishwasher. But nothing that needs heating up!”
Miss Sissy gave her a scornful sideways glance as if she understood completely and didn’t need to be reminded what the limitations were. But as soon as they were in the grocery store, Miss Sissy acted as if she were on a timer. She started pulling things off the shelves and out of the refrigerated section and into the cart. Bread, hard-boiled eggs, unusual mustards, charcuteries, and fruit bowls quickly entered the cart along with cereals, pickles, chips, crackers, and other general grocery items.
Beatrice had the feeling that Miss Sissy was not planning on paying for any of the things in the cart. “Now, it’s just for the afternoon, Miss Sissy.” Because the amount that the old woman had put in the grocery cart indicated that she was planning for the Siege of Leningrad. Or an extended stay at Beatrice’s house.
Miss Sissy continued trotting through the store, but only put five or six more items in. They went through the checkout line, and Beatrice winced at the bill’s total. At least it was all food that she and Wyatt could eat without heating up. If Miss Sissy didn’t plan on eating everything in the next couple of hours.
When they finally pulled up in front of Beatrice’s house, there was another unwelcome surprise: Len’s truck was in the driveway, idling.
Miss Sissy growled.
Beatrice gave Miss Sissy her keys. “Here you are. If you could take a small bag, I’ll get the rest of them.”
Miss Sissy, scowling with narrowed eyes at Len, snatched one of the lighter bags out of the car and stomped toward the house.
“The fridge is in the living room!” called out Beatrice. She received a louder growl in response.
Len was getting out of his truck and cocked an eyebrow as his gaze followed Miss Sissy.
Beatrice sighed. “She’s a family friend who’s had a very difficult day. We’re going to try to keep out of your way while you work, although I’ll be checking in to see how things are going. I did take our dog somewhere for the afternoon.”
Len nodded his head. “Probably a good idea. Reckon the dog wouldn’t like the sound of construction, not with those big ears she has.”
Beatrice gathered up the other bags and headed for the house while Len grabbed his tools and equipment. Miss Sissy had dumped the bag on the dining room table, and Beatrice sighed again. There was really no point in putting everything away since it was time for them to eat. Food was generally a good distraction for Miss Sissy and the old woman was clearly in need of a distraction.
Beatrice lined up all the different options up on the table in a makeshift buffet and then laid out some plastic forks and knives, the napkins and paper plates. Miss Sissy sat on the sofa, watching her, her arms crossed defensively in front of her as Len plugged in a drill on a long cord.
Beatrice spotted the drill and said, “Miss Sissy, let’s go ahead and fill our plates. Then we can take the food outside. It’s about to get pretty loud in here.”
Miss Sissy didn’t need to be asked twice. Just a couple of minutes later, her paper plate was groaning with a loaded pimento cheese sandwich (Dappled Hills pimento cheese, of course), charcuteries, cheese, potato chips, pickles, and a ham sandwich. Beatrice wasn’t even sure how the old woman found the room for the second sandwich on the plate. And she wasn’t sure how Miss Sissy stayed as wiry as she was, despite her tremendous appetite.
Beatrice fixed a much more modest plate and then joined Miss Sissy in the backyard at the table.
Miss Sissy frowned at her. “Thought you were getting in the hammock,” she muttered.
“Not to eat my food. I don’t think I could lie down and eat if I tried. And I’m not sure that it’s good for digestion to eat that way,” said Beatrice. She hazarded a closer look at Miss Sissy. Beneath the gruff exterior, she could tell that she was upset. She really must have liked Salome, despite their fairly brief acquaintance. At least, she thought it was brief.
Beatrice decided to feel out whether the old woman wanted to talk about Salome or not. “How long have you known Salome?” she asked in a carefully casual voice. “Just since she started working at the Patchwork Cottage?”
Miss Sissy gave her a severe look and didn’t deign to answer.
Beatrice continued, “It’s just that I’m sorry that I didn’t get to know her better than I did. I feel as if I’m supposed to know the entire congregation at church, but there’s just no way. Or maybe there’s just no way for me—I’m not as good at putting names with faces as I’d like to be. And Salome came to church fairly regularly, I think. I only really started to get to know her from the quilt shop, though.”
Miss Sissy looked down at her plate. “Knew her from the shop,” she said gruffly.
Beatrice said, “She knew a good deal about quilting, even though she wasn’t in a guild.”
Miss Sissy glared at her. “Didn’t have time for a guild!”
“No, I suppose she didn’t, not between a job and a daughter.” She paused and looked at the old woman, who appeared very morose. Beatrice added gently, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think that Salome even knew what happened. She wouldn’t have suffered. And Ramsay is right on the trail of whoever did this.”
Miss Sissy considered this and then nodded, her lips tightly held together. “Knew something,” she muttered.
Beatrice’s ears pricked up. “Knew something? Are you saying that Salome knew something? Something that may have led to her death?”
Miss Sissy glared again at the word death. “Heard her on the phone. Saying she saw somebody.”
Beatrice leaned forward intently. “Did she say the person’s name?”
Miss Sissy shook her head.
“Could you tell if she was talking to a man or a woman? Or if she knew them well or not?” asked Beatrice.
Miss Sissy shook her head again, this time regretfully.
Beatrice said, “It’s all right. As I said, Ramsay will get to the bottom of this. At least this gives us a little insight into what might have happened.”
The rest of the meal went much better. Miss Sissy offered some tidbits about Salome in her usual staccato delivery. Apparently, Salome had been very friendly with Maisie the shop cat, which had made Miss Sissy a tremendous fan of Salome’s. Miss Sissy was part-owner of Maisie and hosted her at her house some of the time. Salome had fashioned a cat toy out of some feathers and string and Miss Sissy had loved watching Maisie scamper after the toy and bat at it.
After they finished eating, Beatrice said, “Okay. I’ll throw away our plates and check on Len’s progress. Then I think I’ll read.” She paused. She hadn’t really considered how to entertain the old woman for the rest of the afternoon. Miss Sissy hadn’t come over with a quilt project or anything. “I think I’ll find my book and read for a while out here with you. Do you want a book to read?”
Miss Sissy glowered at her.
“Okay. Well, if you want to lie down, there’s a spare room in the house.”
“Not tired!” she said fiercely.
Beatrice sighed and walked inside. Len was completely focused on his work, which was refreshing. She’d sometimes seen the previous workmen on their various phones—not once or twice, which she totally understood, but many times and for long stretches. No wonder the kitchen hadn’t been completed any faster.
Len finally glanced up, a good thing since Beatrice hadn’t wanted to startle him. He gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Everything is looking good, Ms. Thompson.”
Beatrice said, “That’s a relief. I know that sometimes with these projects that you can get in there and then find more problems that need to be addressed.”
Len paused. “Right. I didn’t want to say this immediately because I know you’ve had such a hard time with this remodel, but there is one small issue.
He gestured to a long space on the wall, and Beatrice hurried over. “Is it water damage? Mold? This kitchen isn’t exactly new.”
“No ma’am, but it’s probably something you want taken care of.” He gestured again, and Beatrice peered closely at the backsplash over the counter, which is where he seemed to be pointing.
Her gaze combed over the tiles. “I’m afraid I don’t see it,” she said slowly, and then she stopped, making a face. “Oh heavens.”
There was a gap between the top of the backsplash and the bottom of the cabinets that had been installed. In that gap, cement was visible.
Len said, “It’s one of those things that you might not have immediately noticed, but would probably drive you crazy after a while.”
Beatrice said ruefully, “You’re right. And I have friends with eagle eyes who probably would have spotted it right away, and then I’d always see it whenever I walked into the kitchen. But what can we do about it? Remove the tile backsplash and start over?” She sincerely hoped not. That sounded expensive both in Len’s time and their money.
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m thinking we just install a little bit of trim here and cover it up. Should work out fine. Of course, I’ll have to run to the store to get some.”
“Of course,” said Beatrice.
Len hesitated and then said, “I also noticed one other thing. Sorry, but I figured you’d want to know right away when something didn’t seem to be working that had already been put in.”
Beatrice braced herself and nodded.
Len pulled a drawer with its new hardware. The drawer immediately bumped into the knob for one of the sink drawers and wouldn’t fully open.
“This keeps the drawer from really being functional,” he said with a shrug. “Again, it might not really bother you if you don’t need the drawer.”
Beatrice shook her head. “Our kitchen is so small that I need all the space we can get. I don’t think that I can just stop using one of the drawers. Plus, won’t it get damaged from bumping into the other drawer all the time?”
Len said, “Yes, ma’am. Especially if you yank it open to get a spatula out or something.”
“What can we do about it? I can’t even remember how it was set up originally,” said Beatrice.
“I could remove the drawer and just have the cabinet underneath be especially tall. We can put shelving in there, and it could be a good place to put your pots and pans,” he suggested.
Beatrice said, relieved, “Yes, let’s do that. That makes more sense than having a drawer that can barely open.” She paused. “I’m starting to think that I should leave you now. I don’t think I can bear to hear anything else.”
Len said in a soothing voice, “Running into issues is pretty normal. We can fix these things, and they won’t be too expensive.”
“Although they’ll delay the process, I’m thinking.”
Len nodded. “Afraid so. But not too long.”
Beatrice said, “That’s good. Thanks.” She wandered off to find her book. But she didn’t find it on her bedside table. She looked to see if it had maybe gotten under some things in the bedroom and then checked to see if she’d absently put it in a drawer. Nothing. She walked back into the living room and surveyed the whole area with her hands on her hips. The room was a disaster area, which was unusual. But the mess in the kitchen had caused everything to spill into the living room, which couldn’t really handle the overflow. Beatrice started looking in piles of things until she finally found the book.
Before she could rejoin Miss Sissy in the backyard, her phone started ringing. She frowned, fishing it out of her pocket. She saw it was Piper.
Despite taking a deep, calming breath, her heart skipped a few beats. Piper, lately, had taken to texting her more than calling her. Could it be the baby?
“Piper?” she asked, her voice a little sharper than she wanted it to be.
“Hi, Mama,” said Piper, sounding just a little breathless. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m fine, but I’m going to head to the doctor for a quick check.”