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BEATRICE TOOK A COUPLE of sips from her coffee cup in the hopes of gaining a bit more of the lost patience. “A natural death?”
“No, no, an unnatural one. A fisherman called Ramsay a little while ago and I’ve been stewing ever since. He found a body floating in the lake. And it’s Sandra Hughes!”
Beatrice knit her brows. “She drowned?”
“No, apparently her body was dumped there. Ramsay said she was hit on the back of her head with something. That’s all he really knows right now, but the state police are looking into it with him. Can you believe it?”
A cold chill went up Beatrice’s spine as she realized that she could believe it. She’d just had that odd conversation with Sandra a few days ago. But to Meadow, she just mumbled something about it being a terrible shock.
Meadow prattled on another couple of minutes about murderers and wondering how scoundrels could possibly live in a town as perfect as Dappled Hills as Wyatt came over to the table and looked at Beatrice with concern at the early phone call. Beatrice mouthed Meadow’s name to him and he nodded.
Then Meadow said, “Well, I should go get dressed and ready for my day. It takes me forever to do anything with this ankle. Talk to you later.” And she was gone.
Beatrice filled Wyatt in and he listened to her with a somber expression on his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “As the pastor of our church, I suppose I might be asked to give a service. But Sandra doesn’t have any family here and I’m not positive how to go about reaching them or where they even live. I hope Ramsay can find some information about them.”
Beatrice nodded, but her mind was elsewhere.
“Are you all right?” asked Wyatt softly.
Beatrice gave a shiver. “Not really. Sandra knew something. I was speaking with her a few days ago when I took Boris over for his vet visit. She seemed frustrated that the police hadn’t made any progress with their investigation into Linton’s death. Then she said something about maybe being able to give them a lead.”
Wyatt rubbed his face. “Oh, no. So you’re thinking that maybe she was killed to prevent the police from finding out who killed Linton?”
Beatrice nodded. “I told her to be sure and tell Ramsay and she said she would. But she must not have been able to before the killer got to her. I should have told Ramsay.”
Wyatt gave her a hug. “You didn’t know what she knew. And it sounds like she didn’t exactly tell you what she knew. There was nothing you could have done—she should have spoken to the police as soon as she could.”
“Maybe she wanted to give the killer the chance to explain what she’d seen or heard,” said Beatrice slowly. “Or maybe she decided to blackmail them. Although she didn’t really seem like the blackmailing type. I just can’t picture the vet who was so sweet to Boris pressuring someone like that.”
“Or maybe she just got busy with work and put off speaking with Ramsay,” said Wyatt softly. “It could just have been as simple as that.” He gently changed the subject. “What have you got planned for today?”
Beatrice, still thinking about Sandra, had to stop and remember. “Oh, I’ve got Bible study this morning. I’ll head over to the church with you.”
Wyatt fixed them breakfast—eggs and bowls of grits, along with some fruit. Beatrice had more coffee and generally felt more clear-headed afterward. An hour later, they set off.
Wyatt headed into his office at the church after giving her a quick kiss goodbye. Beatrice, who was still a few minutes early, headed to the office to see Edgenora, the church’s administrator and fellow guild member.
Beatrice saw Bertha was already in the office and speaking with Edgenora, a rather serious-looking woman in her late-fifties with steel-gray hair and a long, lean build. Bertha quickly asked, “Did you hear the news?”
Beatrice nodded and Bertha looked slightly deflated as if she’d wanted to be the one to tell her about Sandra’s death.
“Terrible, isn’t it?” asked Edgenora grimly.
“Heard about it at the grocery store before I came by the church,” said Bertha. “People sure are talking.” She put a hand to her heart. “It’s shaken me up—right here.”
“But why would someone murder Sandra?” asked Edgenora. “She’s always so competent and professional. And a wonderful vet. It’s just so unbelievable.”
Bertha seemed happy to disabuse Edgenora of the notion that Sandra was completely perfect. “Maybe it had something to do with her relationship with Mr. Hoover. Especially since Mr. Hoover is dead, too.”
Edgenora frowned. “Well, that makes sense if just one of them was dead. Maybe one of them had become jealous or became angry after an argument. But with both of them dead?”
Bertha was pleased to offer alternate ideas. “You know, I always got the idea that Brett Hoover was interested in Sandra. And Brett and Mr. Hoover didn’t get along, anyway. So maybe Brett was mad about the way Mr. Hoover was treating Sandra . . . they could have gotten into a big fight and it just went a little too far.”
Beatrice said, “Was Linton treating Sandra poorly?”
“Course he was! He was running around on her, wasn’t he? And they were having arguments and things. Maybe Brett wanted Mr. Hoover to stop being mean to her.”
Edgenora said slowly, “But then who killed Sandra?”
Bertha shrugged. “I can’t figure all of it out, can I? Maybe somebody else was mad at Sandra and killed her and just hoped the police would blame it on whoever killed Mr. Hoover.” Bertha glanced at the clock and said, “Well, guess I’d better get started cleaning up the Sunday school classrooms. Tell Emma I hope she feels better.”
Bertha walked out and Edgenora said, “Our Emma has been feeling under the weather so we were able to get Bertha here to clean.”
“Hope she’s better soon,” said Beatrice in a rather distracted voice, still looking in the direction that Bertha had just walked out.
“That Bertha has something of a mouth on her. Not everybody is as bad as she tries to make out, Beatrice. Chin up.”
Beatrice turned and smiled at her, appreciating once again Edgenora’s sensible nature. “You’re right. There’s someone in this town that’s done something horrible. But there are many more people in Dappled Hills who haven’t. Thanks for giving me a better perspective.” Switching the subject, she added, “Are you planning on making it to the fair tomorrow?”
Edgenora never seemed much like the festival-going type, but her eyes lit up. “Absolutely. I have a thing for cotton candy and I don’t get it nearly enough. My fair plans involve strategic eating at the different food trucks.”
“That sounds like fun. I’m hoping to have fun introducing Will to all the fun. I think he’ll love it, as long as it’s not too loud for him. Sometimes I feel like he has such a quiet life between Meadow and I that he’s used to really still environments.”
Edgenora quirked a brow. “Meadow? Quiet?”
Beatrice laughed. “All right, maybe that was not quite the correct word to use for describing Meadow.”
“I know what you mean, though—he’s spending time at houses where there’s usually just one or two people there. He’s not used to crowds or the sounds of rides. I can imagine it could be overstimulating, for sure.”
“Well, we’ll see,” said Beatrice.
Bertha poked her head back in the office and asked Edgenora, “Sorry, but did you want me also to clean in the gym? I couldn’t remember if you said it was used in the last week or not.”
“It doesn’t really need cleaning, but if you don’t mind emptying the trash outside the gym, that would be great.”
Bertha ducked back out again and Edgenora called out, “Bertha?”
Bertha looked back in and Edgenora said, “I forgot to ask you . . . do you know anything about Dan’s schedule the next week? There are a few small repairs to the property that we’d like to see handled and we thought maybe Dan could take them on.”
Bertha rolled her eyes and shrugged. “You know Dan—he can dawdle like the best of them. I’d have thought he was about finished with the Patchwork Cottage by now, but it sure looks like he’s got a way to go. You should call him up and ask him.”
Edgenora nodded and looked at Bertha carefully. “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have assumed you’d automatically know his schedule. Are you two . . . well . . . are you still seeing each other?”
Bertha shrugged again and gave a sigh. “I don’t know. There are a lot of things that I like about Dan. He’s a hard worker and he does a good job with everything he does. But he’s just so deliberate. It takes him forever to get anything done.”
“He’s a perfectionist?” asked Beatrice.
“That’s right. He’ll start over from scratch if he sees one thing he just slightly messed up on. He can’t finish a project to save his life. I mean, if I worked like he did, I’d be cleaning the same house from dawn to dusk. That’s no way to earn a living. I try to get him to change what he’s doing and stick more to a schedule, but he can’t seem to do it.” Bertha made a face.
Edgenora said carefully, “That would be very frustrating, for sure.”
Bertha bobbed her head. “It’s just that kind of stuff that bothers me. He’s a great guy, but I’m wondering if he would drive me completely bonkers over time.” She dropped her voice as if someone might be somehow listening in. “So I’ve been thinking we should start seeing other people. But I haven’t made up my mind yet.”
Beatrice’s first thought was that this was excellent news for Savannah and Georgia’s Aunt Tiggy. But she did feel badly for Dan to have his relationship taken so lightly. He seemed like a good man.
“I’m off to the gym, then. See y’all later.” And Bertha took off again.
A few minutes later, Beatrice left to join up with her Bible study. They’d been working on the book of Jonah, which had more interesting insights than Beatrice had realized. He was certainly someone who had experienced his own share of troubles in life.
Heidi Wheeler was there, looking thin and pale and very subdued. She seemed distracted during the class, looking out the window or down at her hands and not really paying attention to the teacher. Usually, Heidi was the kind of person who enjoyed speaking up, asking questions, and offering opinions. She was always a contributor. But today she sat quietly, looking tired and wan.
After the class was over and people were leaving, Beatrice told the teacher that she’d put the chairs back where they belonged along the wall and Heidi quickly offered to give her a hand. Once everyone had left, Beatrice quietly asked Heidi, “I was just wondering . . . is everything okay?”
Heidi broke down into tears and they both took seats in the two remaining chairs.
Heidi said in a hoarse whisper, “The police keep talking to me. I’m sure they think I killed Linton.”
“Why do you think they believe that?” asked Beatrice.
Heidi shrugged. “They think we had some sort of lover’s quarrel. Or that I wanted to marry Linton and leave Aiden and that Linton didn’t want to marry.”
“Is there any truth in that?” asked Beatrice softly.
Heidi looked up at her, tears streaming down her face. “I did want to marry him. I wanted to be with Linton, not Aiden. It’s true that Linton didn’t want to marry and it’s true that we argued over that. I guess someone must have overheard us one day—it was a pretty common argument. I didn’t understand why, since we were so happy together, Linton wouldn’t want for us to get married.”
“Did he offer any reasons why?” Beatrice fished in her purse for a tissue and Heidi gave her a grateful smile.
“Oh, he said the usual kind of thing you’d expect from somebody who had commitment issues. He didn’t want to be tied down right then, he was trying to grow his business and wanted to focus on that, or that he didn’t want to get married until he could really focus on building a life with someone.” Heidi shook her head. “But what it all really boiled down to is that he didn’t want to be married. Not to me, not to anybody.”
“But you wanted that promise of marriage before you left Aiden,” guessed Beatrice.
“Of course. I was going to give up my entire life with Aiden to be with Linton. But I wasn’t going to do it unless I was engaged. I had too much to lose, otherwise. And, yes, I was mad at Linton. I started feeling like he was using me. But I never would have killed him. I loved Linton.” Her voice was subdued and almost flat from exhaustion.
“I suppose you’ve heard about Sandra,” said Beatrice. She gave Heidi a searching look.
Heidi nodded, looking again at the floor. “I did. It’s hard to believe. I mean, I didn’t like Sandra all that much, but she sure didn’t deserve to die. And who does something like that? Kills someone and throws them in the lake? It’s just crazy.”
“Did you have a good alibi for Sandra’s death? I’d imagine that would help keep the police away if you did.”
Heidi gave a short laugh. “Well, the police didn’t seem any too sure about when Sandra actually died, so I couldn’t help them all that much. Even if they had narrowed down a time, I was just hanging out at the house, like usual.”
“Couldn’t Aiden vouch for you?”
Heidi shook her head and looked up at Beatrice. “He was out of town overnight, seeing somebody about a horse we’re selling.” She furrowed her brow. “Which means that Aiden doesn’t have an alibi either. Somehow that didn’t occur to me since I’ve been so worried about myself. Do you think the police will consider him a suspect?”
“Have the police been speaking with him?”
Heidi said helplessly, “I don’t really know—like I said, I’ve barely seen or spoken to him.”
Beatrice pressed, “But he does have an alibi for Linton’s death, right? Even if he doesn’t for Sandra’s?”
Heidi was quiet for a moment and then slowly shook her head, her eyes meeting Beatrice’s. “He wasn’t home the morning Linton was found. He wasn’t on the farm at all. I just covered for him when the police asked me because I didn’t know what else to do.”
Beatrice and Heidi sat quietly for a few moments. Then Heidi added, “Beatrice, now I’m wondering if Aiden could have something to do with these deaths.”
“What’s making you think that?” asked Beatrice. “Aiden seems so calm and stable. Wouldn’t something like that be out of character?”
“He is pretty steady, but you know what they say—still waters run deep. I just wonder what he thought about me having an affair with Linton. Linton, especially, I mean.” Heidi looked up at Beatrice to see if she understood.
Beatrice nodded. “I hear that the two of them grew up together.”
“They were best friends, no matter what Aiden says now. Now he’s acting like the two of them were never really close because he’s so angry.”
Beatrice said slowly, “Heidi, I’m more than happy to talk with you about this. But if there’s anything that really makes you suspect Aiden, you should be sure to let Ramsay know.”
Heidi pulled back in her chair a little and Beatrice continued in a gentle voice, “He’s just trying to figure out what’s going on and make sure Dappled Hills is safe for everyone. You can trust him. You’ve known him your whole life.”
Heidi drew in a shaky breath. “Okay. You’re right. But right now, there’s not really anything I know. But I guess I’ll let Ramsay know that the alibi I gave Aiden wasn’t true. That much I can do.”
Beatrice and Heidi finished putting the chairs away and then walked out to the parking lot. Heidi said, “Thanks again, Beatrice, for listening to me. I don’t know what I’d do . . . my head just feels like it’s spinning all the time. It helps to talk it out.”
“I’m so glad,” said Beatrice. “And I hope things start looking up for you.”