They watched Gia leave, carrying a box filled with small sacks.
"Do you think she knows anything about her father's death?" Rebecca asked.
"Maybe." Polly took out her phone. "Maybe not. But I do know that she needs to talk to Tab."
"You're calling the cops on her?"
"I'm calling my friend, Tab, who is in charge of this investigation. Gia met her father at the salon out at Alden's corner. Well, she didn't meet him, but she did see him there … dead. I didn't want to press her because that would have been awful, but it doesn’t sound like he was wrapped in plastic when she found him there. Those are questions Tab can ask. The thing is, Gia’s also not running away now that she’s talked to me."
"That means she didn't do it."
"You'd think so. Gia doesn't strike me as a sociopath. If she’s the killer, I don't see her confronting me about his death, admitting she saw him, then picking up lunch and taking it back to the salon."
"Polly?" They heard Tab's voice on the phone in Polly's hand.
"Hey there. Have you gotten anywhere with Keenan Baxter's death?"
"Not really. I suppose you're about to tell me that you uncovered the key to the mystery."
"You need to speak with Gia Monroe at Mina Dendrade's salon. She's his daughter."
"No way. Everyone we've spoken with knows his family left when the kids were young. We don't even know what his ex-wife's last name is yet or where she ended up."
"Did you speak with Scott Luther?" Polly waited as she heard Tab flip through the little notebook she carried.
"A few days ago. He gave us most of the information about Baxter's family. Those two were friends. He also said something about an interview at Sycamore House. Are you hiring him?"
Polly smiled. "He seems like a good guy and Eliseo needs the additional help. Okay. That's all I have right now."
"How did you know about this Gia girl?"
"Had my hair done this morning. She got worried that I thought she killed him."
"Why would she worry about that?"
"Because she's his daughter and she was supposed to meet him at the salon out there that morning. He was already dead when she went in."
"You're just telling me now?"
"I've only known about it for twenty minutes. I was having a conversation with the girl. As soon as I could, I called you."
Tab took in a breath. "Okay. Sorry. Thought you had talked to her about it earlier this morning."
"No. Just now."
"Thanks. I’ll get up there and have a chat with her. She might know something that she doesn't realize she knows. You don't believe she killed him, do you?"
"Once you talk to her, you won't either," Polly said. "I just told Rebecca she didn't seem like a sociopath, but who knows."
"You're dragging your daughter into this investigation?"
"I'm not investigating anything. Things happen to me and I can't help who is around me when they do."
Tab chuckled. "Thanks for the call. I'll talk to you later."
"You have been the hardest woman in the world to find."
Polly and Rebecca turned at the sound of Beryl Watson's voice.
Rebecca jumped up from the booth and ran to give her mentor a hug. "You won't believe what happened to me this morning."
"Did you get a job at Greene Space?" Beryl asked with a wicked grin.
"How did you know?"
"I just dropped off two new pieces."
"Did you take that one in of the eagles flying over the snowy field?" Rebecca asked.
"That was one of them."
"It's one of my favorites. What are you doing here?"
"Coming to visit you and Polly, of course."
Polly gave her a look of disbelief. "I'm not driving the Suburban, so it isn’t parked outside. There's no way you knew we were in here."
"Fine, then," Beryl said. "I'm meeting Lydia for lunch. We miss Andy. Have you two finished your lunch?"
"We haven't started," Rebecca said. "We're going to celebrate my first job. Will you join us?"
"At least we've finally settled on where we're eating," Polly said, blowing out an audible sigh of relief. "It's been at least a half hour since I started asking her to decide."
"We don't have to eat here," Beryl announced. "If this is a celebration, we should eat anywhere you'd like. I've heard there are some good restaurants in Kansas City."
"My hunger pangs would kill me before then," Polly said. She took Rebecca's arm. "Last time I ask. Do you want to eat here?"
"It's fine."
"Catch the excitement, Polly," Beryl said, fluttering her hands around. "Can't you feel it? The girl is exuding enthusiasm everywhere."
Rebecca furled her brow. "That was an alliteration."
Beryl tapped Rebecca's forehead with her finger. "That's being too smart for your britches."
"Let's get a table," Polly said. "Lydia will have hot tea, right?"
"Who knows. She had some big meeting at the church. Every possibility she's going to be all hot and bothered by the time she gets here."
"Why?"
Beryl chuckled. "I’ll let her tell you. Maybe it all worked out and she didn't have to get involved."
Just as they sat down, the bell hanging on the front door rang and caught their attention. Lydia stepped in, looked around, and strode over to them.
"I didn't know we were going to have two more for lunch," she said. "This is great. And look at you, Polly. I love your new hair. When did you do that?"
"Just this morning," Polly said.
"Turn around and let me see it." When Polly turned, Lydia went on. "That is just gorgeous. Honey, you are so beautiful, I love that you did this. What do you think, Beryl?"
Beryl grinned. "You did something to your hair? I didn't notice."
"Come on," Rebecca protested. "You had to notice."
Beryl pushed her shoulder against Rebecca. "Ask Polly how many people have commented on her hair today."
"Countless," Polly said.
"Now ask Polly how she likes being the center of attention because she changed one thing on her body."
Rebecca turned to Polly, but before she opened her mouth, Polly laughed. "Beryl, you are my kind of woman. I knew that I'd have to talk about it once I made the choice to go ahead, but you're right. It's intimidating to have everyone stare at me because my hairstyle changed."
"Better than them staring because you forgot to put pants on this morning," Lydia said.
"One time," Beryl said. "I forgot my pants one time."
Rebecca looked at her in shock. "You did not."
"You're right, dear," Beryl said, patting her on the back. "I did not. Not ever."
Lydia touched Polly's head, flipping the layers up to see the color. "I think it’s lovely. I wish I had the courage to do something as exquisite as this."
"Why not?" Rebecca asked.
"Because I'm an old lady who is expected to be proper." Lydia chuckled. "And because Aaron would have a heart attack. Right there in the kitchen. We don't want that, do we?"
"I think it would be really cool if you did," Rebecca said. "Your hair is so nice. If you added some reds and blonds to it, it would be gorgeous."
"Look at my girl, teaching us how to be youngsters again," Beryl said.
"You need purple and green and electric blue and hot pink," Rebecca said.
"Don't do that," Lydia pleaded. "Please don't say it out loud. Don't even think it. Beryl is not to be trusted."
"But hair grows out," Rebecca protested. "Gia was just saying that her wild hair was like her canvas. And she can always change it."
Lydia tapped Rebecca's arm. "Beryl doesn't need another canvas. She's wild enough without it."
"Speaking of wild," Polly said. "Do either of you know Agnes Hill?"
Lydia frowned. "I don't think so. Does she live in Bellingwood?"
"Yeah. Down by where Rebecca and her mother used to live. She owned a buffet in Boone with her husband and at some point m
oved up here. I met her the other day when I was out with Cassidy. The woman is a hoot. She doesn't have much for a filter, but she's fun."
"More fun than me?" Beryl asked.
"Different fun than you. She's much older, too. Cassidy saw her fall down into some hedges and I ended up pulling her out and taking her to the grocery store."
"Is that the little old lady that walks around town all the time?" Lydia asked.
"I suppose. She does walk everywhere."
"She's kind of grumpy and mean."
Polly glowered at Lydia. "You're kidding me, right?"
"No, I'm not. I've tried to ask if she'd like some help, but she just tells me to get lost."
"Maybe because she doesn't want your help," Beryl said. "Maybe she wants a friend instead. Right, Polly?"
Polly put up her hands. "I am not getting into that with the two of you, but I'm not surprised that she brushed you off, Lydia. She's independent."
"If you befriend her now while she's still mobile, maybe she'll let some of us help her when she can't move around so well."
"Good heavens," Beryl said. "Talk about judgmental. If she's in her eighties and still walking around town on her own, who's to say she won't be mobile right up until the day she walks out in front of a big truck and pow! Right to the moon."
"I'm just saying that I'm glad Polly is taking the time to be her friend. She needs friends."
"That's just it," Polly said. "I don't think I'm doing this because she needs a friend. I just love her, and for some reason, she adores Cassidy. The feeling is mutual, too. I want Cassidy to be exposed to many different people and Mrs. Hill is going to be a great addition to her life. This woman is really someone I want to know better, just because she's fun."
"See," Beryl said. "Sometimes you get a little too know-it-all, Mrs. Take-care-of-the-world."
"It's been a strange morning," Lydia admitted. "I'm probably not on my A-game. Sorry, Polly. I shouldn't assume anything about you or anyone else in this town. Just about the time you do that, you …"
Beryl interrupted. "Make an ass out of you and me? Did you have a rough time at your meeting?"
"It was more tedious than rough. There are so many things we could be doing, but if they require funds or a change in how we presently do things, people get nervous and negative. They talk about how it will upset other church members, so we can't do anything out of the ordinary. The thing is, I believe that most members would choose to make good changes. They'll never hear about the possibilities because a few little old ladies find their way into meetings with the pastor and staff and throw hissy fits until it's too difficult to face them down. Drives me nuts."
"What were you trying to change this morning?" Polly asked.
"It wasn't a big thing. A few members offered funds to renovate the lower level of the church. Do a completely new kitchen and eating area. What we have in there is so old, it's barely useable. They want to take on the west wall where we have those big storage lockers. Move all of that out of the church; maybe put up a nice shed out back. That way we can put in additional space for the youth program. I don't think it's going to happen. The church would have to match the funds that were offered for it to happen, and this morning, those stupid little old ladies came up with every reason in the world that we shouldn't move that stuff, that we shouldn't fix the kitchen, that we shouldn't do this or that. It's change and by God, we can't have that."
"How much more money do they need?" Polly asked.
"It doesn't matter."
"What do you mean? As I hear Bill and Henry talk about it, the little old ladies don't have a say in the building itself. That's the Trustees. Has this been taken to that board?"
"I don't know. This morning we were meeting to discuss possible plans for the kitchen. That's when it all fell apart. Don’t forget, half of these women have husbands on the Board of Trustees."
"Do you think their husbands are as narrow-minded in their thinking?" Polly asked.
Lydia shook her head. "I don't know. I'm frustrated and until I can let this go and move on, I can't be creative in how to approach the next steps. Building projects are always trouble in a church. Naysayers come out in force unless there is strong leadership to shut them down. One of the big problems we're seeing here is that older people find it difficult to come to terms with younger generations taking leadership roles. They don't like seeing themselves put out to pasture."
"Who's putting them out to pasture?" Beryl asked.
"They do it to themselves, but it's always a struggle." Lydia pointed to the front counter. "I'm starving. Are we eating or are we going to sit here jabbering like little old church ladies?"
Rebecca hadn't said a word as she watched the entire interplay. Polly would have to talk to her later about keeping this to herself. Lydia was so trusting of Polly and her family, but Rebecca was part of the youth group that would use that additional space. The thing was, Polly and Henry were part of the younger generation taking on more leadership roles in the church. This was prime news for someone like Rebecca. She didn't need to carry it to other kids in town.
"I knew Lydia was going to be stressed from her meeting," Beryl said. "But I didn't think she'd come in like a wrecking ball on your little celebration."
"What celebration?" Lydia asked.
"Rebecca got a job at Greene Space."
"You did?" Lydia gave the girl a quick hug. "I'm proud of you. That's a perfect place for you to work. Did you talk with Reuben or Judy?"
"I spoke with Mr. Greene this morning. Andrew told me he’d put up a sign looking for help and I hurried in to apply for the job. I won't have many hours until this summer, but then he said I can work full-time. I'll be sixteen by then, too."
Beryl laughed. "Do any of you remember when it was exciting to think about working full-time? When you actually wanted to work forty hours because it meant real money?"
"You work more than forty hours a week," Lydia said.
"But I have the freedom to come and go when I please. Unless I'm on a deadline. Even then, it's my choice. So, what shall we buy for Rebecca as a congratulations gift today? A pie? Cupcakes? Eel soup?"
Polly shook her head. What a gift her friends were. Not only to her, but to her entire family.
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Even if they get the funding for the church construction, it won’t happen until I’m out of there,” Rebecca said once she and Polly were in the car.
“What?” Polly asked.
“You guys were talking about it at lunch. My friends won’t get to use that space. It’s not like any of us care about old people fighting over money.”
Polly chuckled. “That may be true, but Lydia doesn’t need to have her words come back to her. Promise you won’t say anything.”
“I promise, but I’m telling you it just doesn’t matter. They’re going to do what they want to do whether we think it’s a good idea or not. It isn’t like adults ever ask us kids about our opinions. Even if we are the ones who will be taking care of them when their teeth are falling out and their brains are mushy.”
“You’re horrible,” Polly said with a laugh. She checked her phone. A text from Henry had come in a few minutes ago.
"Hey, what 'cha doing? You should come up to the B&B. I'm here with a crew putting in the basement walls."
"Do you want to go up to the B&B?" she asked Rebecca, holding out the phone.
Rebecca nodded. "That would be great. Let's go."
"You sure? You look really nice and it's a dirty job site."
"Everything I’m wearing can be washed," Rebecca said. "Except for my shoes. But I can clean them. I want to see it. I've never watched a house go up from the beginning."
Polly replied, telling Henry that she and Rebecca were on their way and to wait a few more minutes for them if he could.
"That was fun with Mrs. Merritt and Beryl," Rebecca said. "They're kind of funny together. Sometimes Mrs. Specek gets on them when they're silly."
"Don't le
t her fool you," Polly said. "She can be silly. Imagine being the friend who has had to corral Beryl Watson for most of your life. Those two have been friends since they were kids."
"That's so weird. Do you think Kayla and I will always be friends?"
"I hope so, honey, but it will be different than it is now."
"Well, duh. We'll be adults and have kids of our own and stuff."
"What if you move to different cities?"
"You'll always be here."
Polly laughed out loud. "You're right, there. But you know, Stephanie might not. She could very well go somewhere else once Skylar figures out what he wants to do with his life."
Rebecca was stricken. "Do you think she'd leave Bellingwood? Really?"
"I don't know. The future brings changes we can't predict."
"Cilla's family won't ever leave. Especially since her grandparents live here. Right?"
"I hope they don't, but you never know."
"I'm moving back after college."
"You have to know I'd love that," Polly said. "But I want you to live the biggest and best life you can find. If that means you live in Bellingwood, fantastic. If that means you live in Paris or London, Toronto or Tokyo, then your family will find ways to visit you."
Rebecca sat back, as if pondering that. "I love traveling, but I don't think I want to live in another country."
"Why not?"
"I don't know. I'd have to learn the language and then there are cultural differences."
"You can overcome that. Especially if it was your dream."
Waving her hands in front of her face, Rebecca groaned. "I am not ready to think about that. I don't even know where I want to go to college. They're going to make me start thinking about that next year. Isn't it enough that I just enjoy high school with my friends?"
"You, my dear, are being a chicken. Where is my adventurer? Where is the girl who can't wait to charge into the world and make it her own?"
Rebecca reached over and took Polly's right hand, then linked their fingers together. "I hate to admit something to you."
Joy in the Journey Page 20