Beatrice decided to cut to the chase since time was of the essence when finding a lost cat. “Posy, I hate to have to tell you this, but Maisie is missing. Miss Sissy came by my house this morning, looking for her. She hasn’t shown up here, has she?” she finished, hopefully.
Posy’s normally sunny expression clouded up. “No, she sure hasn’t. I hope we can find poor Maisie—she must be so scared. She never goes outside! How is Miss Sissy handling things?”
“About as you’d expect. She was pretty wild when I saw her. Wyatt and I searched for a couple of hours this morning and I think Miss Sissy has been searching for her much longer than that—I’m wondering if she even went to bed last night. I’m sure we’ll find Maisie, though,” said Beatrice.
Posy said, “I should help Miss Sissy search. Let me call my part-time helper and see if she can cover the store for me while I’m gone.”
“I think the more eyes that are looking for Maisie the better, but I think we also need to spread the word, first. I don’t have any good pictures of the cat—have you got better ones? We can make posters and flyers really quickly and hang them around town. Someone is bound to find her then,” said Beatrice.
Posy hurried off to make the phone call to her employee and to search her phone for pictures. Meadow came back out from the back of the store, looking sheepish.
“Sorry,” she muttered to Beatrice. “Posy is so sweet and I couldn’t bear to break the news to her. How is she taking it?”
“The cat’s not dead, Meadow, only missing. She seemed mostly concerned about Miss Sissy,” said Beatrice.
“Isn’t that just like Posy?” said Meadow. “Always so sweet.”
Posy joined them and said, “It’s all set. I’ve got Amy coming over now to cover me and I’m making flyers in the meantime. Then I’ll join Miss Sissy in searching.”
“We will, too,” said Meadow quickly.
But Posy was shaking her head. “I appreciate it, Meadow, but I have the feeling that maybe this will give me the opportunity to calm Miss Sissy down. It sounds like she’s pretty keyed up right now. Maybe you could all help by distributing the flyers and posters?” she asked.
Fifteen minutes later, Amy was at the cash register and Posy was leaving to look for Miss Sissy. Beatrice and Meadow both held tape and a stack of posters with a much more accurate depiction of the missing Maisie.
They walked out the front door onto the sidewalk and then Meadow stopped short. “Look, Beatrice!” she hissed. “It’s Malcolm! In the ice cream shop.”
Beatrice said, “Let’s go express our sympathy. And tell him that there’s a fried chicken dinner that may or may not be in his fridge.”
The ice cream shop was fairly quiet. Malcolm appeared to have a large bowl of multi-colored scoops of ice cream. His handsome face was somber and he didn’t look as though the ice cream was really cheering him up.
Malcolm gave a small smile and stood up when he saw them approach. “Sorry that last night’s festivities didn’t go according to plan,” he said.
Meadow gave him a fierce and rather unexpected hug, startling Malcolm a little. “Don’t you worry about that! We felt terrible about how things ended up. How are you? How is the family?”
Beatrice cleared her throat. “We did stop by the house to bring some food by—Meadow’s cooking, not mine. Hawkins was there.”
Malcolm made a face. “Then you saw how he was. Father’s death seems to have hit him really hard, somehow. The rest of us are all right—at least we’re coping. We’ve been trying to figure out the details for the service and all. I’m here waiting for Della ... she’s at the Patchwork Cottage now. We needed a break from planning funerals and talking to police.”
Beatrice frowned. “We must have just missed her, then. Or maybe we couldn’t see her around some of Posy’s displays. We were just in there. Posy’s and Miss Sissy’s cat Maisie is missing. She’s the shop cat for the Patchwork Cottage.” She gestured to the flyers she held.
Malcolm nodded and held his hand out for a flyer. He studied the photo and then handed it back to Beatrice. “I’ll keep an eye out. I know how attached people are to their pets. And vice-versa. Maybe we wouldn’t even be in the situation we’re in right now if Father had owned a large dog that never left his side.”
Beatrice said, “What do you think happened last night?”
Malcolm sighed and said in a very matter-of-fact voice, “Well, Ramsay left absolutely no doubt that it was murder. And he didn’t think much of a theory that it might be someone other than the family. Ramsay said that a murderer would have to have a screw loose to enter a house while a party was going on and then randomly kill the patriarch. Besides, we’re the only ones who could have doctored Father’s drink.”
“What a terrible thing to have to suspect your own sister and brother of murder!” said Meadow, putting a hand to her chest.
“I agree. It’s certainly not helping us all pull together after Father’s death. I hate to think that any of us could be responsible for something like that. But ... I think that my brother has got to be the one responsible. I know I didn’t do it. And I don’t think Sadie did, either. Hawkins’s behavior has been so erratic lately. Frankly, he’s a disaster.”
“In what way?” asked Beatrice.
“He was on the edge even before Father’s death and now it looks like he’s heading over the edge completely. Something is worrying Hawkins and he drinks too much to try and forget whatever it is that’s worrying him. I overheard him arguing with Father only a week ago,” said Malcolm.
“What were they arguing about?” asked Meadow rather breathlessly.
“Money. Hawkins wanted money and Father didn’t want him to have any—said he’d waste it, as usual. Hawkins tried demanding it and pleading for it and Father wouldn’t budge. I know that Hawkins was gambling months ago and I know that Hawkins doesn’t have the best of luck. I can only assume that he built up some substantial gambling debts.”
“Is he still gambling?” asked Beatrice.
Malcolm swallowed a bite of his ice cream, then gave a flat laugh. “He can’t gamble without any money. No, he’s broken that habit. Hawkins sort of fell apart when his relationship with Wynona ended. That’s when he started a lot of self-destructive behavior.”
Beatrice waited for Malcolm to elaborate. When he didn’t show any signs of continuing, Beatrice asked, “It definitely seemed to me that there was some tension between both Hawkins and Sadie and your father. Did you get along well with him, yourself?”
Malcolm smiled, showing his perfect teeth in his tanned face. “We got along amicably enough. Oh, I’m not saying there weren’t times when he really got on my nerves. And we’ve had the occasional argument. But it’s not as if we were at each other’s throats all the time or anything. He and I had similar interests at least, unlike Father and Hawkins or Sadie.”
“Sadie didn’t get along with her Father?” asked Beatrice.
Malcolm chuckled, “Well, you know that they were estranged for years, don’t you? For the most part, over her life, she and Father haven’t seen eye to eye. But she’s certainly been trying to make up with him over the past year. Sadie has made herself very helpful to Father and has tried to warm up to him.”
“Did it work?” asked Meadow. “Had they been friendlier with each other?”
Malcolm shrugged. “Hard to say. Father wasn’t one for really showing his feelings. I think there was still a lot of tension between them. Sadie has this really condescending attitude a lot of the time. She seems to think she’s better than the rest of the family since she works with the poor.”
“Does that bother you?” asked Beatrice.
Malcolm shrugged again, “Not really. I respect her for going her own way. You wouldn’t believe it by looking at her now, but growing up she was completely different. She looked like a hippie—long hair, long flowing clothes, flowers in her hair.”
“Maybe she just took it to another level. She decided that the best way to use her hippie values was to work with the needy,” said Beatrice.
Malcolm shrugged. “You’re probably right.”
“Well, it was good talking to you. Again, we’re so sorry about what happened. Let me know if I can run errands for you or help with Caspian’s service in any way. We’ll go and let you finish your ice cream,” said Beatrice.
Meadow gave Beatrice a wink when Malcolm wasn’t looking. “I forgot to get one thing at the Patchwork Cottage, Beatrice. Can we run back there for a few minutes?”
“Sure,” said Beatrice. Clearly Meadow thought this was a good opportunity to catch Della without Malcolm being around. Della was sure to be more forthcoming about the family and what she thought about them without her boyfriend being right there.
“Maybe you can check on Della for me,” said Malcolm lightly. “Make sure she’s not buying up half the Patchwork Cottage.”
As Beatrice and Meadow headed for the door, he added, “Thanks for dropping the food by.”
Meadow said, “Just a heads-up that the fried chicken dinner may or may not be in the fridge. We asked Hawkins to put it in there, but he was a little—well ...”
“Out to lunch?” asked Malcolm. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll follow up on it when we get back.”
––––––––
MEADOW SAID, “LET’S go find Della while we’ve got the chance.”
“He didn’t look like he was anywhere close to finishing that huge bowl of ice cream, so I think we have a few minutes,” said Beatrice.
Posy’s part-time helper was busily trying to check-out customers and answer the phone at the same time as they walked back in.
Beatrice glanced around the room and said, “There she is.”
Della, dressed somewhat somberly in a black top and gray slacks, was holding a basket full of notions and was carefully studying others.
Beatrice and Meadow walked over to her and she started a little as if she’d been in her own world. Then she gave them a polite smile. “Oh, hello.”
Meadow said in her most sincere voice, “Beatrice and I just wanted to say how very sorry we were about Caspian’s death.”
“It must have been such a horrible shock to you last night,” added Beatrice.
Della nodded and set her heavy basket down on the floor. “It sure was. I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, I was so wound up.”
Della, with her glossy hair and bright eyes didn’t look like someone who hadn’t had enough sleep. But Beatrice decided she was being uncharitable. Maybe Della was able to cover up exhaustion better than most.
“We saw Malcolm next door a few minutes ago, and he mentioned you were in here,” said Beatrice.
Della said, “Well, we’ve been doing so much this morning that we thought we should take a break. Planning the service, writing the obituary, and what-not. You can’t do it all day long without going a little kooky. I thought I’d stop by the Patchwork Cottage to relax a little bit. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m doing with quilting and Posy is always so helpful. But I guess she’s not here today.”
“Actually, she was here, but left to search for her cat,” said Beatrice.
Della’s eyes grew wide. “You mean that sweetheart of a cat that hangs out here? Maisie? Oh, the poor thing.”
Meadow nodded solemnly. “Maisie was with Miss Sissy and escaped. Posy is trying to help her search.”
“Seems like there’s a lot going on,” said Della shaking her head.
Beatrice said, “Do you have any idea who might have been responsible for what happened to Caspian last night? Or did you see or hear anything? I feel terrible that it happened during an event for Wyatt and me.”
Della made a face. “People are wicked. And yes, I know exactly who’s responsible. I told the police about it. Your Ramsay is so nice, Meadow.”
Meadow smiled at her.
Beatrice said quickly, “Wait. You know who the murderer is? Who is it?”
“Wynona Thigpen, of course,” said Della, spitting out the name as if it tasted bad.
“Wynona?” gasped Meadow and Beatrice in unison.
Beatrice said, “How do you know? She wasn’t at the party. Did she slip in?”
Della rolled her eyes. “I didn’t see her, but she wouldn’t have wanted to be seen, would she? She’d have been sneaking around. I’ve caught her there in the house before, wanting to talk to Hawkins. Can you believe it? You’d think if someone dumped you, your pride would be so hurt that you wouldn’t want to show up uninvited and beg him to take you back.”
“Is that what happened?” asked Meadow, gaping.
“It did one time. And another time she showed up just to tell Hawkins off,” said Della. She was clearly not impressed with either of these tactics.
“What did Hawkins do when she showed up?” asked Beatrice.
“Oh, he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough! The last thing that Hawkins wanted was to upset his father anymore about this. After all, Caspian was the one who basically decreed that Hawkins dump Wynona. That’s why Wynona hated Caspian—and ended up hating Hawkins, too. She seems like she’ll never get over it and now she’s a spinster!” Della spat out the last.
Beatrice didn’t think that people really used the word spinster any longer. She said, “That’s very interesting. Wynona is actually in charge of helping with the flowers for my wedding.”
This bit of information didn’t seem to faze Della at all. She rolled her eyes. “Can you imagine having to help with weddings every week when you know you’ll never be married yourself?”
Meadow frowned. “Wynona wasn’t exactly left at the altar, Della. They weren’t even engaged, as I recall.”
“They were practically as good as engaged,” said Della, looking just the slightest bit sulky. “Wynona sure thought they were. I think she was even looking at dresses and everything!” She made a quick pivot in subject and said to Beatrice, “What kind of dress are you getting? I know you told me last night about some of your colors and the reception and all, but you didn’t say anything about the dress. I bet it’s beautiful!”
Beatrice said, “Since it’s a second wedding for both of us, I chose to get a gray, lace dress.”
Now it was Meadow’s turn to roll her eyes. “Like that gives anyone a mental image of the dress. It’s lovely, Della. It’s a sleeveless, knee-length gray sheath with a beautiful gray lace overlay. It has a sheer front and back yoke, a round neckline, and a scalloped hem.”
Della grinned at Meadow. “Thank you! I can actually picture it now.”
“You’re very welcome,” said Meadow with a chuckle. “I don’t think describing clothing is something that Beatrice does particularly well. Although she has many other gifts!”
Beatrice smiled at them. “I never could have conjured up the dress the way you did, Meadow.”
Della’s face grew dreamy. “I’ve known exactly what my wedding dress will look like since I started dating Malcolm.”
Beatrice and Meadow exchanged glances. Beatrice said, “I’m so sorry—I didn’t realize that you’d set a date.”
Della shot Beatrice an annoyed look. “The date hasn’t been set yet, but we are engaged. Malcolm and I simply kept it under the radar so that Caspian wouldn’t act out. I didn’t think he would act out, but considering he liked pushing people around, we didn’t want to give him the chance. I’m going to be wearing this gorgeous designer dress. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Beatrice decided to redirect the conversation before she ended up with another example of how to describe a dress. “It sounds lovely, Della. You know, Meadow and I were talking before we came in the shop and saying what a shame it was that neither she nor I really heard or saw anything that could help the police to find Caspian’s murderer.”
Della shrugged. “I didn’t either. I was getting ready for the dinner, then I was on the tour, and then I was visiting with everybody in the drawing room as they came in. I was totally shocked.”
Beatrice said, “Oh, I thought you’d left the drawing room once or twice, that maybe you’d have seen something.”
Della lifted an eyebrow. “Only to use the powder room before dinner. That’s all.” She picked up her shopping basket again as if to signal that their conversation was coming to a close. “If you’re looking for who’s responsible, I’ve already told you that it’s Wynona. Go talk with her.”
Beatrice said quickly before they lost Della completely, “Do you think now that Caspian has passed away, that Hawkins and Wynona will end up together again?”
Della looked surprised, as if this possibility hadn’t occurred to her. Then she said slowly, “You know, I suppose they could. Although Hawkins has been upset about Wynona’s appearances at the house and the way she’s talked about him in town. Still, I think he might have feelings for her.”
Meadow said, “What makes you say that?”
“Because he still has pictures of her in his room. And I don’t think they’re to remind him of the mistake he made in dating her,” said Della with a smug look. She looked at her watch. “I’ve got to finish up my shopping now. Good seeing you two.”
But her smile didn’t reach her eyes.