Chapter 60
After putting the groceries away, Jon and Beatrice sat at the kitchen table mulling over the day’s events. The kettle went off and Beatrice got up to make some tea.
“At least your bazaar went well. It was an astounding success. How much money did you make for the food bank?” Jon asked.
“Over five thousand dollars,” Beatrice replied. “And a truckload of food!”
Jon stirred sugar in his tea while Beatrice pulled out a plastic container full of sugar cookies. She placed it on the table.
“Mmmm,” Jon said. “You are going to make me fat!”
“Hmph,” Beatrice said, as the front door opened.
Vera and Annie walked into the kitchen.
“Quite a day, heh?” Annie said.
“Tea?” Beatrice offered.
“I’ll get it, Mama,” Vera said, and poured them some tea.
“You look troubled,” Beatrice said to Annie.
“I’m trying to figure things out,” she said, reaching for the cup of tea as Vera handed it to her. “I mean, it’s pretty clear someone has it in for Sheila, but who? And why?”
“All I have to say is thank goodness she’s at the hospital where they can watch over her,” Vera said, sitting down at the table.
“Indeed,” Jon said, then bit into a cookie.
“The only person I’ve ever known to not like Sheila was Sharon Milhouse. But she was crazy. Then there was the woman on the cruise—what was her name? Theresa Graves—who heckled Sheila.”
“Maybe they’re connected in some way,” Beatrice said.
“Bryant said he couldn’t find Sharon Milhouse anywhere,” Annie said. “He called her parole officer and hasn’t heard back from him.”
Beatrice took a long sip of tea.
“You know, it occurs to me that maybe we’re looking in the wrong place for her,” Vera said.
“What do you mean?” Beatrice asked.
“I mean she was in the Richmond Institution. Maybe her most recent records are medical, not criminal,” Vera said.
“Vera! That’s brilliant,” Annie said.
“You don’t have access to medical records, do you?” Beatrice said to Annie.
She shook her head. “No.”
“I know someone who does,” Vera said.
“Now, wait a minute,” Beatrice said. “It might not be fair to ask your boyfriend to do that for you.”
“Can’t hurt to ask,” Jon said, shrugging.
“I’m going to give him a call and see what he says,” Vera said, and left the room.
Beatrice dunked her cookie in her tea. There was nothing like a tea-soaked sugar cookie.
“I don’t know how much sense it makes that Sharon Milhouse would be our killer,” Annie said.
“I agree,” Beatrice said after a moment. “But none of the rest of it makes sense. What links Sheila to the other murders except the scrapbooking competition? And none of those people are local.” Beatrice’s brain suddenly kicked in. Her eyes widened.
“What?” Annie said.
“I know Bryant has roadblocks up, but what if the person who killed the man in Sheila’s basement is still in town?”
“Hiding out in the open?” Annie said.
“If I were hiding in the open, where would I be?” Jon said.
“You know, I hadn’t mentioned this before, but I’ve been seeing a lot of strangers in the neighborhood. I mentioned it to Bryant, who reminded me about the new B and B,” Beatrice said.
“Well, let’s go,” Jon said.
“Now, hold on,” Annie said. “It’s a good idea, Beatrice. But we can’t all go traipsing over to the B and B and demand a guest list.”
“Oh, who needs to bother with that?” Vera said. “They have a guest book right there in the foyer.”
“Like our killer would sign a real name in the guest book,” Annie said. “What did you find out from Eric?” she asked as Vera reentered the kitchen.
“He says he can’t do it.”
“Why?” Beatrice said.
Vera waved her hand. “Confidentiality issues or some such nonsense.”
“Bother,” Beatrice said. “You had to hook up with a decent guy.”
“Oh well,” Vera said, shrugging.
“I’m happy to go over to the B and B and look around. I’ve been over there once before and it looked beautiful, but Elsie was getting some work done and invited me to come back and look when everything was complete,” Jon said.
“Yes, she’s taken quite a shine to you.” Beatrice elbowed him.
“Sounds like a great excuse to me,” Annie said, standing. “I’m going, too.”
Beatrice stood and began making up a gift bag of cookies. “Take this bag over with my holiday greetings.”
“Sure thing, Beatrice.” Jon went into the hallway and slipped his coat on. Annie tightened her scarf.
“It’s cold out there,” Beatrice said. “I hear snow is predicted.”
“Just in time for Christmas,” Vera said. “Lizzie will be thrilled.”
“Now, be careful over there,” Beatrice said.
“What do you mean? We’re only going to see who’s staying there,” Jon said. “Don’t worry.”
“Yes, but don’t forget—you are looking for a killer. A devious one at that. One who appears to have followed Sheila from the cruise to Cumberland Creek,” Beatrice said.
“Maybe the killer is afraid she knows something,” Vera said. “Maybe that’s all it is.”
“All?” Annie turned around. “That’s plenty for a killer who’s frightened someone can finger them.”
Beatrice felt a cold chill run through her. That Annie. She had a way of setting them all straight.