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Chapter Fifteen

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Ivy looked as if this didn’t entirely suit, but like she couldn’t immediately think of a way to get out of it. “I guess so, if you really have to talk with everybody. But I don’t know anything, so it’s definitely not going to be worth your time.”

Miss Sissy hit the cheese against the table again, looking at it with disgust.

“How about if we move over here where we can talk quietly?” asked Beatrice, motioning to a far corner of the room.

Ivy said quickly, “I’ll join you as soon as I’ve gotten something to eat. Do we have any pastries? Fresh bread?”

Miss Sissy stared at her as if Ivy had suddenly suggested the abominable snowman had entered the dining hall. She slammed the cheese against the table again, as if to make a point.

Beatrice shook her head. “Not that we’ve been able to uncover. We’ve all been eating from that container of cornflakes.”

So a few minutes later, a sulky-looking Ivy sat across from Beatrice. She had a small bowl of cereal and looked at it with distaste. Aside from Ivy’s general peevishness, Beatrice noticed that the woman’s face was rather drawn and her color was poor. All-in-all, she looked as if she were feeling ill. She remembered Cora saying earlier that Ivy was rather delicate. She certainly looked fragile now.

“Are you all right?” asked Beatrice.

Ivy shrugged. “I guess I’m doing about the same as everybody else right now. I just want to go home. That’s all I can think about. I slept horribly last night and from what I can see, tonight isn’t going to be any better. I ate dry cereal last night and I’m eating it again this morning. Life isn’t fun right now.”

“I understand that,” said Beatrice. “Unfortunately, there really isn’t anything we can do.”

“I can think of one thing I could do. I could set out on foot, head to the road, and flag somebody down. That would be something.”

Beatrice shook her head. “With the snow drifting the way it is, there’s no way now to even be able to tell where the road is. Plus, the likelihood of anybody driving is very low. There wouldn’t be anyone to flag down.”

Ivy slumped in her chair, poking at her cornflakes with her spoon. “I guess. I’ve just never been so miserable and unhappy in my life.” She paused. “Poor Olive. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”

“And Aspen did?” asked Beatrice without judgment.

Ivy made a face. “I’m not saying that. Not totally. But Aspen deserved it more than Olive did, that’s for sure. And before you ask, no. No, I didn’t have an alibi. But I also didn’t kill her.”

Beatrice’s head started hurting just a bit. It seemed that, despite all the enforced togetherness of the group yesterday, no one had really paid any attention to anyone’s comings or goings.

Ivy continued, almost echoing Beatrice’s own thoughts. “I was with people. But then I wandered off to go to the restroom or back to my cabin to grab something. Then I would go get a snack or try to make a call again. No one was paying any attention to where people were.”

“You did go back to your cabin?”

“I sure did,” said Ivy a bit belligerently. “And if others tell you they didn’t, they’re lying. I felt like escaping from everybody. My nerves can’t handle this kind of pressure. And yes, I wanted to grab a few things there to take back with me to the lodge, but I also spent time putting my feet up and reflecting. Just getting away from people. Don’t you ever feel that way?”

Beatrice could certainly relate. In fact, she often felt the need to get away from others and that need was growing the longer this situation was going on. She gave a little nod. “You mentioned others were going back to their cabins, too. Do you remember who you saw?”

Ivy blew out a breath. “Well, I saw lots of folks from your guild. That weird old woman, for one.”

Clearly Miss Sissy.

Ivy said, “She looks like she has murder on the brain all the time, frankly. She was worrying me while she was slamming that block of cheese on the table. That frozen cheese would make a pretty effective murder weapon.”

“Anyone else?” asked Beatrice.

“Yes. A woman from your group who looks like she needs a makeover. She’s thin with heavy eyebrows.”

Obviously, a description of Savannah.

“Got it,” said Beatrice. She paused. “How about any of the Sew and Sews?”

Ivy glared at her. “I see how it is. So you’re just going to dismiss the fact that I saw a bunch of Village Quilters roaming around at the time of the murder.”

“No. But you’ve got to understand that there isn’t any reason for women from our group to murder Aspen or Olive. We didn’t even meet them until yesterday. And I can promise you that none of these women are homicidal maniacs.”

Ivy shot her a doubtful look. “Well, that old woman sure seems to be. And we were saying Starr didn’t know anybody either, and look how wrong we were about that. I’m going to reserve judgement, and I think you should, too. If you’re going to play this role, you need to be able to keep the open mind that goes along with it.”

As much as it irritated Beatrice, she knew Ivy was right. “Okay. Did you see anyone else?”

Ivy sighed. “Yeah. I saw Maggie. Then I saw Nicole looking for Maggie. Then I saw Cora.”

Beatrice knit her brows. “How much time did you spend outside?”

“Oh no, I could see everyone from the window of the cabin. No, I spend as little time as possible outside in this weather. That’s why the retreat should refund us our money. The whole idea was to spend time in nature and relax.”

Ivy was looking querulous again, and Beatrice interjected before she could start another rant on how the weekend had gone so very wrong. “What did you think about Olive?”

“I liked her. She was organized and dedicated to the guild. Whenever we needed volunteers for something, she was always the first one who raised her hand. She was a good leader, too. And she often did tasks no one else wanted to do. I mean, Olive wasn’t the most fun-loving person. She wasn’t someone you’d call up for lunch or to come over and have a few drinks and dish on people. But she was super-responsible and trustworthy.”

“Unlike Aspen,” said Beatrice.

“Totally unlike Aspen in every single way,” agreed Ivy. “But although Aspen could be fun, she was completely unenjoyable to be around because she stressed everybody out. She was always looking for a way to get at you.” She made a face. “When I spent that quiet time in my cabin yesterday, I got to thinking. I was being pretty reactive in my feelings toward Aspen. The fact of the matter is that she did me something of a favor.”

“Did she?”

Ivy nodded. “Because of her, I realized what a despicable man my husband was. When I’d confronted Aspen over her affair with my husband, she told me that she was far from the first person he’d had an affair with.”

“That must have been hurtful.”

Ivy said, “Of course it was. That’s exactly why she said it. But the fact of the matter was that it was all true. Like I said, in some ways she did me a favor. The last thing I wanted was to be in blissful ignorance and have everybody in town pitying me because I was the only one who didn’t know.”

Beatrice wasn’t sure what to say, so it was a good thing Ivy continued. “I’d thought this retreat was going to give me time to figure out what to do. And I guess it has. I thought I could decide whether I should stay with my husband, forgive him, and look like the bigger person, or whether I should leave him and get a nice settlement in the divorce. Now I realize life’s too short. Life’s too short to live with a guy like that. I don’t trust him at all anymore. Whenever he left the house, I’d be wondering if he was telling me the truth about where he was going. I can’t live like that.”

“I don’t really know you or the situation, but it sounds like that might be a good plan,” said Beatrice.

Ivy nodded, still deep in her own thoughts and almost as if she’d forgotten Beatrice was even there. “That’s right. I’ll set up my own place and do what I want to do for once.” She looked at Beatrice. “He wasn’t that great of a guy, anyway. He was always critical of me. He’d point out if I’d gained a little weight and make snide jokes about it. Appearances are everything to him. Really, like I said, Aspen did me a favor.”

Beatrice said, “Getting back to her murder, I’m thinking it must still all go back to whoever killed Aspen. That person would have probably murdered Olive to cover up the crime. It seems as though Olive must have known something. While you were thinking things over yesterday afternoon, did you have any more ideas about who might have done this?”

“I don’t know anything. All I can do is speculate. But one thing I kept thinking about is my husband’s interest in appearances. That made me start thinking about Maggie. I know you don’t know her very well, but she’s always obsessed with how she presents herself to the world.”

Beatrice thought about Maggie’s wearing a fur coat and matching hat at a quilting retreat. She nodded. “So you’re thinking Maggie might have murdered Aspen in order to keep her life the way it is? To manage appearances?”

Ivy shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows? I’m simply thinking Maggie has a lot to lose. She has this rich husband who also cares a lot about appearances. I know about her affair. I saw her steal a kiss from the guy when she thought nobody was around. I thought it was really foolish of her at the time, considering she’s married to a man who’d divorce her at the drop of a hat.”

“And you think Aspen knew about this? Maggie’s affair?” Beatrice knew Aspen did, of course. But she thought that Maggie’s affair should probably be kept under wraps. She was curious to know who else knew about it.

“Sure. If I could find out about Maggie’s affair, someone like Aspen definitely could. Aspen was a total snoop. And she wasn’t only a snoop, she was someone who actively looked for the kind of dirt she could use against you.”

Beatrice asked, “You mean for blackmail?”

“I don’t know if she blackmailed people or if she just taunted them with stuff she’d found out. Either way, it would have been bad. Maybe she told Maggie she was going to let her husband know about Maggie’s affair. Just to be mean. That’s the way she was. And now, if that’s all you’ve got, I’d like to go back to the lodge with my little bowl of cornflakes and wallow in my unhappiness.”

Beatrice watched Ivy stomp off.

Posy came over, looking sympathetic. “How did that go?”

“Well, I think it’s been reinforced numerous times that Aspen was not a very nice person,” said Beatrice with a sigh. “Although everyone seemed to like Olive, even though she wasn’t perhaps the life of the party. But she was the kind of person who got stuff done.”

Posy gave her a smile. “Just in case no one has done it yet, I wanted to thank you for taking the time to do this. I appreciate what you’re doing to try to get to the bottom of this and to keep us all safe.”

It was just like Posy to be sweet like that. Beatrice smiled back at her. “Thanks. I’m not sure I’m getting any closer to an answer, but I’m giving it a go. I have to justify Meadow’s faith in me you know.”

They both chuckled at that. To hear Meadow, you’d think Beatrice worked for the FBI.

Beatrice said, “How are you doing? This has been hard on everyone. How are you holding up so far?”

Posy looked wistful. “I’m okay. I just wish I could get in touch with Cork.”

Cork was Posy’s husband. He owned a very popular wine store in downtown Dappled Hills and was as gruff as Posy was gentle. But the two seemed very close with each other and had recently taken to traveling.

“I know you must miss him.”

“Like you miss Wyatt. It’s especially hard knowing how worried they must be about us all. At least Meadow was able to get through briefly to Ramsay. I’m sure he let all our husbands know we’re okay.”

Beatrice nodded. “It’s probably best she didn’t have the chance to tell him there’d been a murder. They would be even more worried about us then.”

“It would be good to be able to bounce all this off of Cork, too, though. Cork always makes me feel safe. I don’t feel especially safe right now.” Posy stopped and gave Beatrice a rueful look. “Sorry. I’m pointing out the obvious and probably not helping your stress levels, either.”

“I think talking about it does help, actually. This weekend has been a lot to process.”

Posy said, “I feel like everyone is just so aimless right now. Maybe we can do some group quilting to try to alleviate that. I know a lot of our supplies are in the conference room with Aspen, but maybe we have enough, collectively, to be able to work on our quilts.”

“You’re right. Love of quilting is what brought us together in the first place. It seems right that it would help give us some direction through this.”

Posy nodded. “I know you’re busy helping figure out what’s going on. I’ll see if I can drum up some interest in quilting when everyone is up for the day. Plus, we all like to chat when we’re working together. Maybe I can glean information that could be useful.”

Beatrice smiled at her. “Great idea all round, Posy.”

Posy said, “I was so looking forward to this weekend, too. Now I feel like Edgenora and June Bug were lucky not to be able to come.” She shook her head. “I need to focus on all the positives of the weekend.”

“Which are?” Beatrice lifted an eyebrow.

Posy seemed at a loss. Then she smiled. “Well, it hasn’t been boring.”

“That’s for sure.” They grinned at each other.

Meadow’s voice boomed out. “Why the sunny faces? Were you able to call out?”

Meadow walked over to them with Miss Sissy in tow. The old woman clearly didn’t want to let Meadow out of her sight.

Beatrice shook her head. “Nothing that exciting. Posy and I were just cheering each other up.”

“Well, I’m going to work on a way to cheer us up some more. I’ll try to tackle that grill.”

“Will you?” asked Beatrice. The idea of having something, anything, hot fairly made her mouth water. “Do you think you can? We’re not at all sure that the grill can even function with all the snow blowing and the gales of wind.”

Miss Sissy growled and gave Beatrice a warning look which she interpreted as a fierce request to avoid dissuading Meadow from trying.

Meadow shrugged. “It might be tricky. But I want to try. There’s not a lot to do around here.”

“Got it. I can show you where those coolers were outside.”

The idea of going back out into the whirling snow wasn’t particularly appealing. Meadow might have picked up on this because she shook her head. “I’ll find them, thanks. You just worry about solving these murders.” Meadow swept off. This time, Miss Sissy stayed put. Maybe she didn’t fancy going out into the snowy maelstrom again, either.

“I feel as if we’re in great hands,” said Posy, looking relieved. “You’ll figure out what’s going on here. Meadow is on cooking duty.”

“And you’ll help foster some good feelings with quilting,” said Beatrice.

Posy stood up. “I think I’ll check in at the lodge. Surely everyone must be stirring over there. It might be a relief for the women to at least have something on the agenda for the day.”

After Posy left, Miss Sissy and Beatrice were left staring at each other. Beatrice smiled at her. “Doing okay, Miss Sissy?” she asked lightly.

Miss Sissy gave her a disgusted look as if Beatrice should have known better than to even ask the question.

“Don’t like it,” she snarled.

“I know. I’m sorry the fun weekend we planned got scuttled. And sorry you missed out on your s’mores.”

The old woman glared at her. “Might still have s’mores.”

Beatrice had the feeling that s’mores had slipped down some on the list of priorities. “Maybe.”

Miss Sissy growled, “Don’t like it. People fighting. People dying.”

Beatrice frowned at her. “People fighting? You mean arguing?”

“Bah. Fussing at each other.”

Beatrice asked, “Like who?”

“That Olive.”

“Olive was arguing with someone? That could be important, Miss Sissy. Do you remember who she was arguing with? Did it look like a serious argument? Can you describe the woman?”