Suddenly, seeing Julia, even with a benign expression on her face, made everything very, very clear to Beatrice. The library and Henrietta. Miss Sissy’s feelings toward Minerva. June Bug’s story.
Beatrice, her heart pounding, tried to slam the door shut but Julia was too quick for her.
“I thought so,” snarled Julia. “Nosy woman. I could tell that you’d figured something out.” She took a large knife out of the dainty purse she carried on her arm.
Beatrice heart pounded, but she said in a calm voice, “Julia, you’re not making any sense. I’m sure you must have been seen here. Is your car parked outside?”
Julia shook her head with a smirk and took a step closer to Beatrice, who took a step back. Noo-noo, sensing the tension, started making low growling noises.
“I didn’t drive here; I walked.”
“Then someone would have seen you walking over, Julia. This is a very busy road. Ramsay himself drives up and down it a dozen times a day,” said Beatrice, trying to keep calm.
“I didn’t see a soul. If I had, I’d have just slipped into the woods until they passed. After all, we’re neighbors, Beatrice. Not that you’ve ever been super-friendly,” said Julia, sounding a bit peeved.
Beatrice almost gave a laugh. Was Julia just trying to make excuses for why she needed to get rid of Beatrice? Surely Beatrice, as the new neighbor, should have been the one receiving visits from Julia? She said, “I’m fairly quiet and don’t do a lot of visiting, I’m afraid. And you were wrong. I didn’t really know anything about your connection to the murders. Oh, I had my suspicions, but I hadn’t really had any time to think about them—it’s been that busy.” She spared a thought for the pork chops, which were starting to create an acrid, burning smell.
But Julia didn’t seem to notice the food smell or pay attention to Beatrice’s protests. “What about this morning, when you were taunting me about Ramsay. I wasn’t going to be blackmailed again, Beatrice. You shouldn’t have thought I was going to go along that easily.”
She pointed the knife at Beatrice as she spoke and Noo-noo started barking at Julia and looking up to Beatrice for any signals for how to act. But Beatrice felt her eyes trained on Julia. Then, when Julia started looking at Noo-noo, who was increasingly agitated, Beatrice glanced around for something she could use as a weapon against Julia. Her belongings appeared completely innocuous and unworthy as weapons of any kind.
Then her eyes rested on the silver pitcher she’d pulled out of the china cabinet for her special dinner. It was only a foot away from her on the table.
Beatrice still wanted to defuse the situation if she could. Or at least stall Julia.
“I figured you were being blackmailed by Henrietta, but it wasn’t what I was imagining at first, was it? When I was at the library this morning, I talked to the librarian there. She was telling me that Henrietta was a frequent visitor. Apparently, she used the computer there a lot,” said Beatrice.
Julia said tartly, “I wouldn’t have thought that Henrietta had the brains or the tech-savvy not to use her own computer for her nastiness. I guess she must have been watching a lot of police shows on TV.”
“All the time, I was thinking she was blackmailing you because of the painkillers,” said Beatrice.
Noo-noo continued growling.
Julia said in a menacing voice, still keeping an eye on the corgi, “I told you I didn’t care about people knowing about those pills. There are lots of people in the same situation.”
“But you did care about your blog, didn’t you? It wasn’t only a big source of income, it was more. I got the impression the last time I spoke with you that you were very proud of it. That you got a real sense of creative fulfillment from blogging. And here was this troll who kept commenting on your blog posts. Kept saying that your marriage wasn’t stable and that your husband, Jim, was having an affair.”
“How did you find out about that?” hissed Julia.
“It wasn’t easy,” admitted Beatrice. “It wasn’t something that the whole town knew about.”
“Who else knows?” demanded Julia, brandishing the knife at Beatrice again.
Noo-noo barked shortly, snapping her jaws at Julia in the process.
Even as distracted as Beatrice was, she noticed that the smell of smoke was growing. She certainly wasn’t about to give Miss Sissy’s name over to Julia and have her be the next victim. She moved on: “But you knew it was Henrietta all along, even though she used a fake name on your blog. That’s because she was using the comments to put pressure on you. So you slipped out from the quilt show. Did you actually plan on killing her when you went over there? I’m guessing that maybe you planned on just talking things through with Henrietta—to try to reason with her. After all, you’d been quilting together for years.”
“You thought wrong,” said Julia, her eyes glittering. “I knew Henrietta well enough by that point to realize that she would never listen. She was like a dog with a bone and stubborn as all get-out. What’s more, she was just plain greedy and mean on top of it all. I’d already tried scaring her off with the email I sent to all the quilters and she couldn’t have cared less. No, I may have gotten her to let me in by saying I wanted to talk with her, but I was looking for a way to get rid of her.”
“I didn’t think there were too many weapons in Henrietta’s house. You didn’t bring anything with you, just in case?” Beatrice now smelled a strong smell of burning and Noo-noo was looking concerned and sniffing the air wafting from the kitchen.
Julia said, “I figured there was something I could use there. It had to happen. She’d already tried to blackmail me about the painkillers, with little success. Then she wanted to try to blackmail me over the affair.”
“She realized that’s what you cared most about—the appearance of a happy married couple on your blog. So you ... what? Shoved her and then shoved the heavy sewing machine on top of her?” asked Beatrice.
“I figured if I needed to finish her off, there was a fire poker nearby,” said Julia coolly. “And I wiped down any of my fingerprints from the machine. That took a few minutes. I knew my fingerprints were elsewhere in her house, but that could be easily explained since I was a visitor there sometimes.”
Beatrice said, “Your husband’s affair was with Minerva, wasn’t it?”
Julia’s grip was tight enough on the knife for her knuckles to be white. “I blame Minerva for that. She was the one who was pursuing Jim, not the other way around.”
Beatrice remembered that Julia had not been with her husband at Minerva’s funeral. He’d probably wanted to lie low.
“Minerva knew that you’d killed Henrietta. Her house was right next door to Henrietta’s, after all. Regardless of what she told me or the police, she did leave the quilt show early enough to see you leaving Henrietta’s house,” continued Beatrice, taking a deep steadying breath.
“And I saw her. I could tell, by the way she acted around me that the guilt was getting to her,” muttered Julia.
“Guilt?” asked Beatrice.
“Yes. And not the guilt she should be feeling! She wasn’t guilty about having an affair with my husband—she was guilty knowing I got rid of Henrietta and that she wasn’t telling the police about it! At first I thought she felt bad enough about the affair that she wouldn’t say anything about my leaving Henrietta’s house after the murder. After all, she didn’t want her husband to know anything about the affair, either. Benjamin makes a lot of money and I don’t think Minerva liked the idea of getting a divorce. But I saw her talking to Ramsay at Henrietta’s funeral. I got as close as I could and I could tell she was saying she wanted an appointment to talk to him. I made sure she never got to that appointment.”
Beatrice said in a tight voice, “And you knew exactly how to do that, because you knew Minerva’s schedule.”
“Everyone knew Minerva’s schedule.” Julia rolled her eyes.
“You knew she would be at the park on Saturday morning, filling feeders. You arrived early, maybe parking in another area and walking over so that your car wouldn’t be seen at the park,” said Beatrice.
“Aren’t you smart?” sneered Julia.
“Then you scouted out a spot where you wouldn’t be seen and hid in the woods until Minerva was absorbed in her task,” said Beatrice. “Did she even know you were there?”
Julia said, “No. Believe me, she got off easy. Never knew what hit her. It was the perfect day. No one was there, for some reason. I did spot Hazel there with that dog of hers, but her idea of a walk isn’t very strenuous and she left almost as soon as she got there. It was just as quiet as it could be. Just some guy fishing, and he looked half-asleep.”
“And you brought a wrench with you,” said Beatrice, feeling slightly sick as she said it. She was facing a woman who killed a friend with a wrench. The same woman was facing her now, with a knife. And Beatrice was no friend of hers.
“The wrench did an excellent job,” said Julia. “Maybe a better job than this knife will do. If only you hadn’t been so nosy, Beatrice! I bet I understand you better than you understand yourself. Let me guess. You moved here from the big city, right? You definitely have that big city feel about you. You thought you were coming to this idyllic place. Maybe it was an idyllic place for you. But you got a little bored. Not enough intellectual stimulation. So you played a very dangerous game to alleviate your boredom. And now you’re going to pay.”
But at that second, right as Julia lunged forward with the knife, Noo-noo’s barks became higher pitched and more urgent and the smoke detector started shrilly going off.
Julia swung her head around to gape in the direction of the kitchen where smoke was now visible. Beatrice grabbed the heavy silver pitcher, full of ice, and swung it at Julia’s head.
And Julia dropped like a rock, ice cubes scattering around her.
There was a frantic pounding on the front door as someone pushed through it. Wyatt’s face was white with fear and confusion as his gaze took in smoke, Julia lying on the floor, the frantic corgi, and the silver pitcher. “Are you all right?”
Beatrice ran to him, hugged him briefly and fiercely and then said, “The kitchen!”
The pan and burner on the stove were both on fire and there was much smoke coming from the oven. Wyatt grabbed the kitchen fire extinguisher from a countertop and put out the flames on the burner. Beatrice grimaced at the pork chop. So much for supper.
They checked the oven and found the other pork chop incinerated, but no fire inside.
Wyatt said grimly, “Keep the extinguisher handy and let me know if the fire isn’t completely out. I’ll keep an eye on Julia. I’m assuming she .... ?”
Beatrice nodded. “Julia is the killer. She’s only knocked unconscious. We should call for help.” Her head was starting to pound and she put up a hand to her forehead.
Wyatt gently reached out to hug her. “I’ll call Ramsay. And the volunteer fire department for good measure.”
Beatrice gave a shaky laugh. “And maybe the pizza delivery number, while you’re at it.” She stared ruefully at the smoky kitchen.
Noo-noo, who had followed them to the kitchen door to support them, looked sorrowfully at the disaster in the kitchen. Beatrice found her a couple of treats. “Good girl,” she said. “You were helping too, weren’t you?”
Noo-noo quickly ate the treat and then turned to the front door, hearing something. In came Meadow and Ramsay with the same astonished looks on their faces that Wyatt had when he came in. Meadow was clutching the philodendron.
Meadow’s eyes were huge as she took in the sight of Wyatt standing over a still-unconscious Julia. Ramsay quickly recovered and walked briskly over to Julia, bending down to check her.
“Will she be all right?” asked Beatrice.
“She’s out like a light, but already stirring a little. We’ll get her to the hospital to have her checked out before taking her in,” said Ramsay. “Let me call the state police to update them and then I’ll want to talk with you.”
Meadow peered sadly into Beatrice’s kitchen. “I did find the white wine vinegar. I texted you about it, but you didn’t answer. I started worrying that your recipe might be too much for you and so I got Ramsay to drop by on our way out to dinner. He and I were going to celebrate because one of those wrinkled old short stories is actually going to be published in a literary mag. I remembered to bring your plant back to you, too. But it looks as if your pork chops won’t see any benefit from the vinegar.”
“No, the pork chops are beyond anyone’s help now,” said Beatrice. She suddenly felt the need to sit down and shakily pulled out a chair at the table.
Wyatt walked over as Ramsay made his calls. He quietly put a soft quilt around Beatrice’s shoulders and she smiled up at him. It must be the shock that made her cold, since she’d just been in a kitchen that was hot as the blazes from the oven.
Wyatt looked at the philodendron, still on the table where Meadow had absently stuck it. “Is that the houseplant I gave you?”
Beatrice gave a short laugh. “The very one. It went over to rehab at Meadow’s house. Apparently I have the same type of talent with houseplants that I have with cooking.”
Meadow briskly opened windows and the back door to let the smoky air out. She appeared to be furious, giving darting, angry looks at Julia. Ramsay gave her a wary look as he wrapped up his conversation with the state police.
“Now, Meadow, settle down. And back up away from Julia. Your menacing looks are worrying me,” said Ramsay.
“Oh, I’m not going to do anything to Julia. I want her to rot miserably in jail for the next twenty years or more. I’m just so ... angry!” Meadow seethed.
Wyatt said with an understanding smile, “How about if you walk Noo-noo a bit?”
Beatrice said, “Please do! The poor thing. She was so stressed out. I’m sure she’d love a walk to relax a little.”
Meadow looked relieved to have a mission of some kind. “Okay, that sounds good. I’ll walk her downtown and back—that’ll really stretch her legs and de-stress her.”
As Meadow left, Ramsay muttered, “It’ll stretch Meadow’s legs and de-stress her, too! Sorely needed.” He sighed. “It’s never good when a quilter is a killer.”
“But unfortunately, it wasn’t much of a surprise in this case. Still, it’s got to be hard for Meadow to wrap her head around,” said Beatrice.
Ramsay spent a few minutes taking notes as Beatrice outlined everything that had happened. Wyatt stood by, looking grim as he heard the story.
Ramsay said, “Funny that she cared more that the illusion of the perfect marriage stay intact than she cared that her painkiller habit was revealed.”
“Henrietta finally got to her. Once Henrietta started pressuring her by commenting publicly on her blog, she decided she had to go. After that, Julia needed to cover up her crime so she had to get rid of Minerva, who’d seen Julia leave Henrietta’s house,” said Beatrice. She watched as Julia began stirring on the floor as the sound of a siren approached.
“That’s right. Meadow was always having covered dish suppers with Julia. Long ago, they’d play canasta together and hearts. And then there was always a quilt show or bee they’d be at. But Meadow will move past it. It may just take some time.” Ramsay moved slightly out of the way as the EMTs entered.
“I’m going to need to go in the back of the ambulance with this one,” he told them.
Suddenly, a particularly wild-looking Miss Sissy tore into the house. “What is it? Who is hurt?”
Beatrice realized that the sirens and ambulance must have scared her to death.
“It’s okay, Miss Sissy,” said Wyatt soothingly. “Beatrice is fine. It’s Julia. She ... well, she needs a doctor.”
The EMTs looked askance at the old woman, who was now edging closer to their patient.
“Evilll,” she hissed.
Wyatt quickly invited her into the kitchen to have some non-charred food.
After Ramsay had left in the ambulance and Wyatt and Miss Sissy had settled in the living room, Beatrice looked sadly at Wyatt. “Once again, something has gotten in the way of our date.”
He reached out and gave her a warm hug that lasted a full minute before giving her a tender kiss. “The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”
Miss Sissy was watching them with laser focus. Beatrice attempted to pretend the old woman wasn’t there.
“Unfortunately, our nice supper is in cinders,” said Beatrice with a wry smile.
“I’m sure it was something very tasty, too,” said Wyatt.
“It was impossible to tell what it was, isn’t it? With the fire and the smoke and then the fire extinguisher foam? In a prior, happier, life, our supper was pork chops,” said Beatrice with a sigh.
Wyatt said, “One of my favorite things. That was sweet of you to cook it.”
Miss Sissy muttered to herself and ate some more Gouda cheese.
“I would say let’s head out to a restaurant, but the truth is that I’m completely exhausted.” Beatrice sank down onto her sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. And Miss Sissy, who was continuing to eat, was probably working on eliminating the remainder of the food she had in the house.
“Of course you are. We’ll figure out another day,” said Wyatt.
Miss Sissy polished off her plate and barked at Wyatt, “Ride home?”
Beatrice said, “Do you really need one? You galloped over here very efficiently, I noticed.” You could see Miss Sissy’s house from Beatrice’s front porch.
“Wrenched my ankle,” said Miss Sissy succinctly.
“I’d be happy to drive you home,” said Wyatt.
Meadow tapped lightly on the door and came in with Noo-noo. Both of them looked a good deal more relaxed. Noo-noo grinned at her as she trotted toward Beatrice and leaned against her leg.
Meadow said, “I could drive you home, Miss Sissy. Since Ramsay left in an ambulance, the car is still outside.”
Miss Sissy scowled at Meadow. “No! Wyatt.”
Meadow shrugged and gave a laugh. “Have it your way, Miss Sissy.”
Wyatt asked Meadow, “How will Ramsay get back home from the hospital in Lenoir? I didn’t even think about that.”
“Oh, one of the policemen from the state police will give him a ride. He won’t need me to.” Meadow said. She looked at Beatrice with tears brimming in her eyes. “When I think what could have happened ....”
“Please don’t,” said Beatrice crisply. “I don’t want to really think about it, either. At least it’s all over and done and now justice can start its process.”
“And we’ll leave you to get some rest,” said Wyatt. His quiet voice was somehow effective with Meadow, who certainly had looked prepared to stay for a while and rehash the case.
“Tomorrow,” she said to Beatrice. “Tomorrow we’ll talk.”
“And so will we,” said Wyatt, smiling at Beatrice.