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THE NEXT MORNING, BEATRICE woke up early and was ready and out walking Noo-noo before Wyatt had even gotten up. She figured ruefully that it must be the shock of being caught by Lois while Beatrice was still in her bathrobe at ten a.m. that made her such an early bird. When she and the corgi got back home, Wyatt had made poached eggs over toast with grits on the side and they ate together while the Weather Channel played, muted, in the background.
Beatrice stared at the crossword puzzle, pushing her reading glasses up farther on her nose and peering closely. She’d made a good start with it at first, but then everything went downhill the last few minutes. And she was pretty sure that 10 down was wrong.
Beatrice glanced over at Wyatt. “Hope the sudoku is going better than the crossword is.”
Wyatt grinned at her. “I was just debating whether I wanted to fix my mistakes or if I wanted to scrap it and just start a new puzzle.”
“I’d just scrap it. You have that whole big jumbo book of puzzles, after all. If you don’t finish that book, then what am I going to get you for your next birthday?” asked Beatrice. “You’re not very easy to buy for.”
Wyatt put his hand across his heart jokingly as if Beatrice had dealt him a major blow. “That’s not true. I have lots of interests.”
“But you seem to have everything you need. You’re very content,” said Beatrice, making a face at him. “Which is very frustrating for gift-buyers. I may have to ‘accidentally’ shrink some of your clothes in the dryer just so I can replace them for Christmas.”
Wyatt stood up and walked over to give her a light kiss. “Or I could make a wish list. Just to bypass the sure destruction of my favorite clothes.”
“As long as it’s a detailed wish list,” said Beatrice, smiling up at him. “Don’t put ‘new shirt’ on there, for instance. I want to see ‘blue golf shirt’ or ‘button-down plaid shirt.”
“It’s a plan,” said Wyatt, settling back down with his sudoku with a frown.
“Are we an old married couple?” asked Beatrice with one eyebrow raised as she gestured to the Weather Channel and the puzzles. “Because it certainly seems like it.”
Wyatt gave her a tender kiss and she felt the magic again. “Or maybe it doesn’t,” she said with a rueful laugh.
“Unfortunately, I’ve got to head over to the church for a staff meeting,” he said, pushing away the puzzle. “And I’ll be bringing up the business about hiring the admin assistant, too,” said Wyatt. “Before I go, how about if I give you a hand with the dishes and then the vacuuming?”
“No one will believe you’re for real when I tell them,” said Beatrice. “But I’ll take you up on it. Noo-noo has shed so much lately that I think we could make another corgi out of her fur. If you vacuum, I’ll declutter.”
Later in the morning after Wyatt had left for church, she was glad that they’d put some time into cleaning. A member of Wyatt’s congregation dropped by the house to chat for a few minutes and bring tomatoes. Ordinarily, an impromptu visit would have been something Beatrice would have struggled with, but the tomatoes were absolutely delectable-looking and the grandfatherly man was a treat to talk with.
After lunch, Beatrice set off for Meadow’s house again, walking next door a little early so that she could help Meadow set up for the guild meeting and possibly catch up with Ramsay and see if there was any news. Unfortunately, Ramsay’s car was missing when she arrived. But then, she should have known that he would make sure to vacate the house before a guild meeting.
Beatrice gave a light tap on Meadow’s door. This time, Meadow was too distracted to startle, as she had last night. Instead, she turned and waved for Beatrice to come inside. She appeared to have every pot and pan and mixing bowl she owned out on the counters and stovetop.
Beatrice walked in to breathe in some wonderful baking aromas. “How early did you go to the store, Meadow? Yesterday, you didn’t even have anything in the house to eat and now it looks as though you could give even June Bug a run for her money.”
Meadow said, “I was there at the crack of dawn, just as soon as they opened. Want some coffee?” She absently gestured in the general direction of a coffee pot.
“Is there any left?” asked Beatrice. “Meadow, did you drink the entire pot?”
“Of course not. Ramsay had a cup.”
Beatrice saw that Meadow did seem jittery. She wasn’t at all sure that having high-energy Meadow on that much caffeine was a good idea. She was already covered with flour as if she’d had the shakes while she was baking. Beatrice started making another pot of coffee. She’d plan on redirecting Meadow if she tried to have another cup.
Beatrice glanced up sharply at what seemed to be the sound of galloping. Unfortunately, she wasn’t fast enough to avoid Boris’s love tackle. Boris was a tremendous dog of indeterminate pedigree. Meadow swore that he had some corgi in him but Beatrice was convinced that Meadow was deluded. The only ancestry that was fairly obvious was Great Dane.
“Boris!” gasped Beatrice as the dog licked her face within an inch of his life.
“Boris,” fussed Meadow affectionately. “You were supposed to stay in the back during the meeting. It must be all the food smells.”
Indeed, something seemed to have possessed the dog. He was bounding around as frisky as a puppy and evading Meadow’s halfhearted efforts to corral him.
“Treats,” said Beatrice finally. “We’ll have to lure him back. Otherwise, he’s going to terrify our guest today.”
“Edgenora?” said Meadow doubtfully as she glanced around for the elusive treats. “I have my doubts that she’s easily terrified somehow.”
Finally, the treats were found and Boris was confined to the master bedroom with a sound machine and some chew toys.
Beatrice tried to catch her breath. “That was unexpected exercise,” she wheezed. “Are you sure you took him for a walk? You said you were walking him after we met up with Mae and Bizzy at the park.”
Meadow shook her head sorrowfully. “The walk didn’t work out. I swear, I’ve just had too much on my mind lately. That’s two big things I’ve forgotten lately—the dog’s walk and the guild meeting.”
“It’s only natural. We’ve had a lot going on in the last week.” She decided to carefully divert the conversation so that the focus wouldn’t shift to the murders. A stressed-out Meadow made for a distracted cook. “What’s that you’re baking?” asked Beatrice as she added some water to the coffeemaker, still planning on making sure Meadow didn’t end up with any caffeine.
“Oh, you know. Cookies and brownies. And biscuits because I’m putting together ham biscuits.” Meadow opened the oven door and pulled out a cookie sheet of chocolate-chip cookies.
“I can feel the extra pounds already,” said Beatrice with a smile. “Seriously, though, Meadow, you know that you don’t need to go to that much trouble. It’s two o’clock. Everyone should have already had lunch.”
“I know, I know. It’s just the fact that I was caught off-guard. I’m overcompensating for the fact that I completely forgot about the guild meeting by making it especially fun.” Meadow carefully transferred the cookies from the cookie sheet to a cooling rack and then loaded the sheet with more dough.
There was a knock at the door and Meadow started to jog off to answer it as Boris started barking from the back. Beatrice waved her away. “I’ll get it, Meadow. I came over to give you a hand, after all.”
The guild members came in at the same time, all exclaiming over the delicious aroma in Meadow’s home. Posy said, “Everyone, this is Edgenora. She’s visiting us from the Cut-Ups guild today.”
Everyone called out a greeting. Edgenora was a rather serious-looking woman in her late-fifties with steel-gray hair and a long, lean build. She seemed a little uncomfortable being in the spotlight, so it was just as well that Meadow called out for everyone to fill their plates.
Miss Sissy made a beeline for the food, heaping a plate with it and immediately diving in. June Bug had brought her niece, Katie, with her and the little girl followed Miss Sissy’s lead and headed right to the food ... cookies, for her. She sat down next to Miss Sissy who greedily guarded her plate in case the child decided she wanted any cookies off her plate. Georgia walked up to Beatrice while Savannah sat down in a quiet corner nearby and started working on some hand-piecing.
Posy asked Savannah, “Doesn’t the food smell delicious? I’m going to have some sweets. Would you like me to bring you a plate?”
Savannah gave her a tight smile and shook her head briskly. “No thank you.”
Georgia asked Beatrice, a hint of worry in her voice, “Any information about what’s happening with the murders?” Georgia reddened. “Oh, sorry. I really shouldn’t have said anything until after the meeting. Especially with a guest here. I’ve just been so worried. To have something like that happen twice on the same day!”
Beatrice said, “A few things, but we’re definitely not close to finding out who was responsible.” Posy walked by and Beatrice asked, “Posy, did you happen to see Violet Louise at the church bake sale Sunday morning?”
Posy blinked for a moment as she thought. Then she bobbed her head. “I did, just briefly. There was a lot of coming and going. I couldn’t say for sure if she was there for the whole time.” Then Katie called her and Posy said, “Sorry, Beatrice.”
“Oh, it’s fine. Thanks, Posy.” Beatrice lowered her voice and turned to Savannah and Georgia, “Do you know anything else about Mae Thigpen? As a neighbor? She’s someone who doesn’t really offer a lot of information up front. Meadow and I did have the chance to catch her walking her dog, so thanks for that tip. It’s just not easy to keep her talking for very long.”
Georgia said slowly, “Most of the times she keeps to herself. She’s not what I’d call the friendliest neighbor in the world. I wasn’t sorry to move away. I’d say hi and she’d give a little wave. If we were at the mailbox at the same time or putting our trash out together, she wouldn’t ever come over to chat; she’d just give that quick wave and hurried back in.”
“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming,” said Beatrice.
“That’s just the thing. She keeps to herself most of the time. But she has entertained people at her house in the past. Or, rather, person,” said Georgia meaningfully. She flushed.
Beatrice waited for her to spit it out. When Georgia hesitated, Beatrice said, “There’s someone in particular? Don’t worry—this isn’t gossip. Any information you have could be really helpful.”
Georgia said, “Barton Perry has visited her there pretty regularly. I’ve seen him leave quite a few times, always in a rush. One time he said something about bringing Mae some of his wife’s tomatoes.”
Savannah, despite her absorption in her hand piecing, appeared to be listening, too. She snorted. “That’s some excuse.”
Miss Sissy, who’d been peering at them above her plate of food, suddenly exploded. “Wickedness!”
This startled Katie, who was sitting beside her. Miss Sissy reached out and gave the child a cookie as an apology.
The women lowered their voices. “Maybe he did bring tomatoes sometimes. But other times he didn’t seem to be carrying anything at all,” added Georgia.
Beatrice said thoughtfully, “The fact that Mae does keep to herself would make her the perfect person to have an affair with. She’d be very discreet. And she is an attractive woman.”
“But what would that have to do with the fact that Pearl and Ophelia died?” asked Georgia. “How would a possible affair between Mae and Barton play into the equation?”
“Maybe it doesn’t really factor in at all,” said Beatrice. She was saved from having to respond further to the topic as Meadow called the guild meeting to order. Because, what she was really thinking was that Mae could have wanted to get Pearl out of the way. And then Ophelia, busybody that she was, somehow saw or heard something and Mae had to get rid of her, too ... aunt or no aunt.
The meeting went smoothly. They all snacked far too much on Meadow’s delicious biscuits and cookies and drank a lot of homemade lemonade. Posy stood up and gave a little talk about some of the new notions and fabrics that she was carrying at her store before asking everyone to share what project they were currently working on. Edgenora took a notepad and a pencil out of her black patent leather bag and briskly took notes.
After everyone had talked about their quilts, Posy broached shyly, “I wondered if anyone would be interested in participating in a round-robin project? I thought maybe it would be a fun break and spark a little creativity.”
Meadow said, “Oh, I would! I’m completely sick of working on my Cathedral Window print. I’ve been way too distracted to have taken on such a difficult project. I need a break.”
Edgenora said curiously, “Cathedral Window? Why did you choose it?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea. I must have been out of my mind. I started working on it in the middle of wedding preparations for my son,” said Meadow. “Do you remember what possessed me to start on such a hard quilt, Beatrice?”
Beatrice said dryly, “I believe you had some concerns about all the scraps you had on hand.”
Meadow snapped her fingers. “Right you are!” She turned to Edgenora. “I have tons of leftover scraps from other projects and I had the bright idea to use up some of them with a Cathedral Window quilt. It’s also done entirely by hand—at least, the one I’m working on is. I haven’t had the patience. At this rate, I’m going to stop working on it as a quilt project and just make it into a pillowcase or something.”
Miss Sissy studied Meadow coolly. “I can help you,” she said in her growling voice. “With the quilt.”
Meadow blinked at the old woman. Then she said, “That’s an absolutely brilliant idea. Maybe you can take it with you to the Patchwork Cottage and it can be a sort of group project for whoever wants to take a crack at it. Maybe Savannah?” she asked in a leading voice.
Beatrice sighed. At this rate, Savannah would be onto them and their underlying motivations to keep her busy in no time. She said, “Yes, that’s a good idea, Meadow. Let it be a group project. But I want to hear more about Posy’s round-robin.”
Posy gave Beatrice an appreciative smile and said, “Although round-robins can be easier projects to include everyone on different levels, I thought since we have so many advanced quilters in our group that we might try something a little more challenging.”
Beatrice winced. “I don’t think I’m in the advanced quilting category.”
“Nonsense!” said Meadow. “Besides, it’s important to stretch yourself every now and then. You can’t really grow if you never challenge yourself. Of course, my Cathedral Window quilt is the exception that proves the rule. Sometimes we can give ourselves too much of a challenge.”
“I thought we’d do a medallion print,” continued Posy, smiling at the murmur of approval from the group. Beatrice knew these were square quilts with a large design in the center.
Savannah said, smiling “I love those quilts. All the wonderful symmetrical lines.”
Edgenora nodded approvingly. “I really like the geometrical designs the best, too. Although I wouldn’t be able to work on this group project yet. I need the easier quilt designs.”
Savannah said, “If you wanted, I could help you take a crack at the Cathedral Window quilt at the shop sometime.”
Meadow quickly interjected, “Savannah is an excellent teacher.” She hushed up as Posy started speaking again.
Posy continued, “I thought we could hand-piece and embroider the quilt top. We could have a mariner’s compass as the centerpiece and reverse appliquéd flowers around the border, if we wanted. But that’s totally up to each quilter. And incorporate some fussy-cuts. I’ll send a starter block out with some fabric and then that person will add elements before passing it along to the next person.” She smiled at everyone.
Beatrice said cautiously, “Just know that some quilters’ work may not be as intricate as others’ work.”
“That’s the fun of it, though! If we were looking for perfection, we’d just have Posy do the whole thing. This is a group project and we end up with something completely different,” said Meadow.
“Can I work on it?” Katie asked June Bug.
“Of course!” June Bug said, beaming at her. “I’ll help you.”
Details for the round-robin project were hammered out, then the meeting came to a close. Edgenora sat down next to Savannah and seemed to be asking her questions about what she was hand-piecing. Beatrice saw Savannah light up at the attention. She pulled out her phone and showed Edgenora some pictures of her finished quilts while Edgenora made more careful notes in her notebook.
Meadow walked over to Beatrice. “Did you notice? Edgenora and Savannah are hitting it off!”
Posy walked up to join them when she overheard Meadow’s statement. “Do you think so?” she asked.
“They do seem to have a lot in common. They’re both pretty stern personalities,” said Beatrice.
“Savannah is only stern until you really get to know her,” said Meadow in her stage whisper. “But I know what you mean. They’re serious. And what are the chances of Savannah meeting someone else who was into those geometric designs as much as she is?”
Beatrice said, “I know. They’re the only type of quilt that Savannah does, unless we force her to do something different with a group project.”
“It’s still such a pity that we weren’t able to recruit Edgenora into the Village Quilters. Then Savannah would be able to spend more time with her,” fretted Meadow.
“Savannah seems to have more than enough free time to be able to meet up with Edgenora even outside the guild meetings,” said Beatrice with a shrug. “Her accounting work doesn’t keep her tied up all day. And she works from home most of the time.”
Posy said hesitantly, “Maybe I should ask Savannah to give Edgenora a hand with her quilting. I could offer to let them work at the Patchwork Cottage. That way Edgenora could meet some other people in town, since she’s a newcomer. Who knows, maybe they could even take a stab at the Cathedral Window quilt, since Savannah mentioned it specifically.”
Meadow beamed at her. “That’s the perfect idea! Thanks, Posy. And you’ve no clue how glad I am to be done with that quilt. It kept staring at me and making me feel guilty whenever I put my feet up.”
Posy hurried off to suggest her plan to the two women. Beatrice’s cell phone rang and she stared down at it with irritation as she pulled it from her pocket. Meadow rolled her eyes.
“Hello? The church consignment sale? One second.” Beatrice pulled up the church’s calendar on her phone and then said, “It’s going to be two weeks from Saturday. That’s right—two weeks from this Saturday. All right.” She looked at Meadow. “Don’t say it. I already know what you were going to say.”
“You’re waaaayy too helpful,” said Meadow. “But while you’re being so helpful and knowledgeable, you can answer one church-related question for me.”
“If I can,” said Beatrice with a sigh. “And if it’s on the church calendar.”
Meadow leaned in a little closer to Beatrice. “I was trying to keep this meeting on the light side for our visitor, but I’ve been wondering if you knew when Pearl’s funeral was. Or maybe Ophelia’s?”
Beatrice said, “Me? Oh, you mean because of Wyatt officiating. Actually, believe it or not, I forgot to ask him about it and it didn’t come up in conversation. Let me text him real quick. That’s the kind of thing that’s definitely not on the church calendar.”
“That’s good. I think most of the women here would want to go to Pearl’s funeral, at the very least,” said Meadow. “I’ll make a quick announcement before everyone heads out.”
A few minutes of texting later, Beatrice said, “Wyatt says that Pearl’s is tomorrow at ten a.m.”
“And Ophelia’s?” asked Meadow.
Beatrice shook her head. “No service for Ophelia. She is being cremated and Mae chose not to have a memorial service.”
Meadow blinked. “No memorial service? But Ophelia has been a part of Dappled Hills her whole life. It seems like she should at least have some sort of send-off party, even if she could be a difficult person sometimes.”
Beatrice shrugged. “I suppose that Mae was the only family Ophelia had and it was up to her.”
“She really must not have liked her,” said Meadow, hands on her hips.
“That was certainly the impression that I got when we were talking to her,” said Beatrice dryly. “And I need to speak with her again. I wanted to follow-up with her on some things.”
“Another walk in the park with Noo-noo?” asked Meadow brightly. “Or maybe we could bring Boris with us this time.”
Beatrice made a face. “No thanks. Especially since your Boris is still overdue for his walk. I’m hoping I’ll just run into her downtown. She does leave her house, clearly, for things other than taking the dog for walks. Mae must get groceries and go to the drugstore and so forth. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for her.” Beatrice looked at her watch. “I’d better head on out.”
“Want me to pick you up for the funeral tomorrow? I wouldn’t think you’d want to ride with Wyatt, would you? He’ll be going much earlier than you’d need to. Maybe I could pick you up at 9:30?”
“See you then,” said Beatrice.
She walked back home, and on the way realized that there was no coffee in her house. Although there were many things she’d delay going to the store for, coffee was not one of them. She went briefly inside to get her keys and purse and then set off for the store. As she passed the church on the way, she spotted Violet walking out to the parking lot. Beatrice hesitated for a moment and then pulled in, rolling down her window.