Fit To Be Tied

by Elizabeth Craig

  “So someone who worked at the factory could have seen them and taken them for later,” said Beatrice.

  “Exactly. Although I’m not sure who would have known about them besides maybe his assistant. Someone would have to have gone snooping through his desk and come across them. And the thing is that Gerald had a very organized desk and file system. The pills probably stood out like a sore thumb.”

  Beatrice asked, “I know you didn’t want us to mention anything about Gerald being tied up, so I didn’t want to say anything while Meadow was around. Do you have any ideas why Gerald would have been tied up like that? It seems really unnecessary to me if the sleeping pills were how he was murdered.”

  Ramsay said, “Well, the forensics guys said that he was tied up sometime after he’d been drugged with the sleeping pills. They guessed that maybe the murderer was worried that the pills would be slow-acting and that Gerald might realize what was happening to him and would call for the police or an ambulance.”

  “That would have obviously messed up their plan,” said Beatrice. “So the ropes were brought it to keep Gerald from getting help. And his stomach pumped.”

  “Exactly. So maybe the murderer waited for the drugs to take effect and then surprised Gerald by tying him up and completely incapacitating him until the pills knocked him out and later killed him. I guess it was easier than disabling his office phone and trying to get his cell phone away from him.” Then Ramsay grimaced. “Do you mind if I abruptly change the subject? I think I’ve talked about this case a little too much. Tell me what you’re reading right now.”

  Beatrice smiled at him. “Wyatt and I are reading the same book again.”

  “Ah, your Wyatt and Beatrice book club is still in session?” asked Ramsay with a grin. “I thought maybe it was going to disband after the last unsuccessful read.”

  “Well, I think we discovered that I’m not as much of a fan of reading biographies of long-dead theologians as he is. Although they were excellent sleep aids for me during nights when I was having trouble falling asleep. But it was my turn to come up with a title this time and I picked one that I thought might appeal to both of us. All the Light We Cannot See. I figured that maybe the historical aspect of the story might make it more interesting for Wyatt,” said Beatrice.

  Ramsay nodded his approval. “That’s a very thoughtful choice.” He chuckled. “Maybe it will inspire Wyatt to try a little harder to come up with a better pick next time.”

  “Let’s hope so! Although the thought behind his choices were very sweet. They were books that had heavily influenced the way he saw life and religion and helped make him the minister he is today. I was interested in reading them to find out more about Wyatt but I suppose that I’m just not used to reading those types of texts. At any rate, I managed to limp through them and I did get a little more insight into Wyatt’s thought processes.”

  Meadow, who had wrapped up with her friend, came back inside. Boris leaped on her and licked her face and neck as if to apologize for his earlier behavior, and she hugged him around his big neck in forgiveness while futilely trying to keep her face away from Boris’s tongue.

  “Oh, Beatrice,” said Meadow with a groan, “Now you’re going to inspire Ramsay to get on another spousal book club kick. I don’t think I can handle it. All of the stuff that he suggests we read is really depressing. I want something uplifting. I want something that can make me escape.”

  Ramsay said, “But those books I picked could help you escape, too.”

  “Escape? No, those books took me to a place that I needed to escape from. Yes, I armchair-traveled, but not to a happy place,” said Meadow with a shudder.

  “What were some of these books?” asked Beatrice, a smile pulling at her lips.

  “Awful things!” spat Meadow. “Something called The Street, for one.”

  “I think she’s referring to McCarthy’s The Road,” said Ramsay with a chuckle.

  Beatrice groaned. “You didn’t. That’s not exactly a Meadow book, Ramsay.”

  “It certainly wasn’t!” said Meadow indignantly.

  Ramsay said, “But you said that you wanted a page-turner. And that’s definitely a page-turner.”

  “Only because I was trying to skip ahead and see if the dad and his little guy survived the book! I’m still having nightmares about that one,” said Meadow, making a face.

  Beatrice said, “There must be some other ones that weren’t that bad.”

  Meadow shook her head and Ramsay said, “I thought you enjoyed Bleak House.”

  “I enjoying finishing the book. And Dickens always writes amazing characters. But how could one really enjoy a book called Bleak House?” demanded Meadow.

  Ramsay said, “But Beatrice, we swung back from my two picks with a vengeance when Meadow’s turns came up to choose.”

  Beatrice winced. “I can only imagine.”

  Meadow said, “I couldn’t handle anything emotionally draining so I found two of the frothiest romances I could possibly find.”

  “They didn’t even have a plot,” said Ramsay, groaning in remembrance.

  Meadow grinned. “Which was entirely necessary to recover from your book choices.”

  Beatrice tried to be diplomatic. “Maybe you could find a little common ground. Have either of you read the Harry Potter series?”

  Meadow and Ramsay looked at each other and then shook their heads. Ramsay said, “It kind of pains me to admit it, but no. And we didn’t see the films, either.”

  Beatrice said, “They have a lot of humor and fun in them but also have some dark moments. They might make for a good compromise for you both.”

  Ramsay said, “Thanks for the recommendation. There has got to be common ground somewhere between the books I read and the ones Meadow does.”

  Meadow said, “That might actually work for us. I just couldn’t read anything really sad right when we’re about to meet our darling grandbaby. If I left it up to Ramsay, I’d be reading Jude the Obscure or something.”

  “I don’t think there’s much chance for me to read something right now, unfortunately.” Ramsay’s eyes were sad. “But maybe in the next couple of weeks.”

  “No, there’s definitely not time for you to read,” agreed Meadow. “You have to restore law and order to Dappled Hills so that our grandchild has a safe place to play.”

  Beatrice said with a smile, “Now, Meadow. You know that Dappled Hills is a safe place ninety-nine percent of the time. What’s happening right now is an anomaly and Ramsay is on top of it.”

  Beatrice’s phone rang and Meadow jumped. “Is it Piper? Is it time?”

  Chapter Eleven

  RAMSAY ROLLED HIS EYES dramatically. “I’d better grab that snack that I’m home for and head back on my way. Good to see you, Beatrice.”

  He wandered over to the pantry as Beatrice glanced at her phone. “It’s Wyatt, Meadow.” She picked up. “Hey there.”

  “Hi,” said Wyatt. “Just wanted to check in with you real quick and see if you can handle a change of plan.”

  “Oh?”

  “After I visit with Laura Carpenter about the service, I’m going to need to drive to Lenoir. We have a member of the congregation who has been admitted to the hospital there. Would you be all right to meet with Len when he comes to work? And what should we do about Noo-noo?”

  Beatrice said, “Absolutely. I can be there. I’ll probably take Noo-noo over to the Patchwork Cottage, since that worked so well before.”

  “Do you think she could even go into the backyard?” asked Wyatt.

  “I’d like to think so, but I think her ears are so big that she’d be bothered by the racket even outside. Posy didn’t seem to mind at all—I’ll just pop Noo-noo over there.”

  Wyatt said ruefully, “I’m not sure that Posy would say something, even if she did mind.”

  “I’d agree with you there. But she actually mentioned that Noo-noo was something of a draw for the customers, so I think she really is fine with it. Of course,
I’ll ask her again,” said Beatrice.

  They wrapped up the call. Meadow was standing there looking a little pink. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m starting to get jumpy about the baby getting born. I just know that I’m going to get that call when I’m in the middle of a dental visit or stuck doing something else that I can’t get away from. I’m just so excited that I don’t want to miss anything.”

  Beatrice said firmly, “Piper and Ash are a hundred percent prepared. They have everything they need for the baby, they have a plan, and Piper has a packed suitcase. If the baby came right now, it’s not too early. Everything is going to be perfectly fine.”

  Meadow said quickly, “Oh, I know, I know. I’m being silly. So the phone call—let me guess. You’re needing to hang out at home this afternoon.”

  “Which is fine. I wanted to wrap up the diaper bag for Piper, anyway. And then I could read my book for a while.”

  Meadow said, “You can read with all that noise going on?”

  “I put some headphones on and play soft music on my phone. It works pretty well. Besides, we really want this construction to be finished, so it’s worth it to me so that we can actually use our kitchen again. I’ll just run by the Patchwork Cottage and check in with Posy before dropping Noo-noo off.”

  Meadow said, “Well, if it’s not a good time for Posy, then I will take Noo-noo.”

  Beatrice knew that hanging out with Boris wouldn’t be Noo-noo’s most favorite choice. Boris grinned his goofy grin at her. “Thanks for that! I’ll let you know in case it’s not convenient for Posy.” She started for the door.

  Meadow said, “Don’t you want me to drive you home? You don’t have your car here, remember.”

  Beatrice had had quite enough of Meadow’s driving for one day and was still feeling remotely carsick from the curves Meadow had taken so quickly. “No, I think the walk will do me good. But thanks.”

  The walk home was very pleasant and Beatrice enjoyed stretching her legs. Under the trees, it was shady enough to feel cool. There were flowering bushes and a dappled light shone through the leaves overhead. Beatrice used the time to decompress before getting home. Despite what she’d said to Meadow, she didn’t really enjoy being at home when the counters and cabinets were being replaced, headphones or not.

  Noo-noo greeted her at the house as she let herself in. Wyatt had already headed off to see Laura Carpenter and Gerald’s children, but Beatrice saw that he’d cleaned up the house before he’d left and smiled.

  She had a little leftover quiche (warming it up in the microwave that was currently residing on the back wall of the living room) and then picked up the phone and called Posy at the Patchwork Cottage.

  Posy answered, sounding distracted. “Oh, hi, Beatrice.”

  “Everything all right there?”

  Posy said slowly, “It’s fine, thanks. I’m just a little worried about Salome because she didn’t show up this morning to open the shop. It’s just really not like her—she’s never really even late for anything. I wouldn’t have even known about it except that a customer ended up calling me and asking why the shop wasn’t open.”

  “Is she all right?” asked Beatrice. “Have you heard from her?”

  Posy’s voice was concerned. “She isn’t answering her phone and unfortunately, I don’t have her sister’s number. Usually, Carla takes Salome’s daughter, Jenna, to school and then goes straight to work.”

  Beatrice said, “I can run by there, if you like, just to check and make sure that she’s all right?”

  Posy sounded relieved. “Could you? I’m sure she’s probably fine—maybe she came down with a virus or something. I’d have called Ramsay to run by, but I know that he has his hands full right now. And I didn’t want to leave the shop.” She quickly gave Beatrice the address.

  “Absolutely. I’ll go straight over there.” Beatrice glanced at her watch. She still had plenty of time before Len was supposed to arrive and Noo-noo could stay at the house while she was gone. She rubbed the little dog’s head before grabbing her keys and heading to the car.

  She used her phone’s GPS to drive over to the brick ranch where Salome lived with her sister, Carla, and her child. The yard and house were tidy and there were cheerful flowerbeds at the mailbox and near the front of the house. Beatrice hurried up the walkway and rang the doorbell. She waited, listening, and then rang it again. She noticed that there was still a car left in the driveway. Then she noticed that the door was very slightly ajar.

  Not wanting to simply walk in, she knocked loudly on the door and waited. No response. Tentatively, she pushed the door open.

  Beatrice cleared her throat and stepped inside. “Salome? It’s Beatrice Thompson. I’m just checking on you. Posy asked me if I could run by.”

  She listened again and heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, she walked a little further in and called out again, “Salome? It’s Beatrice. Is everything okay?”

  Nothing.

  Hesitantly, Beatrice walked even further into the dimly-lit house. “Salome?”

  She walked into the kitchen and stopped short. There, on the floor, lay Salome with a cast-iron frying pan next to her.

  Chapter Twelve

  BEATRICE CALLED RAMSAY first, right after she’d checked for Salome’s non-existent pulse with shaking hands. Then she stepped outside and waited by her car.

  Ramsay was there within a couple of minutes and the state police, still in town investigating Gerald’s death, were just behind him.

  “In the kitchen,” said Beatrice quietly as the police entered the house and secured the scene.

  A few minutes later, Ramsay came grimly back out. He shook his head. “You and Wyatt have had a bad week. I’m sorry, Beatrice.”

  Beatrice shook her head and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry too, but mostly for Salome. She didn’t deserve this. And now, there’s a little girl who will be growing up without her mother.”

  Ramsay flipped open his small notebook and sighed. “Okay if I ask you some questions? Just while everything is fresh on your mind?”

  “Of course,” said Beatrice. She carefully moved her neck from side to side to try to get some of the tension out of it. As she did, she noticed several of the neighbors had come out of their homes to see what was happening.

  Ramsay said, “What made you decide to come by here this morning? I know Meadow acts like everyone who quilts is her very best friend, but I thought that neither of you knew Salome very well.”

  “You’re right—we didn’t. Lately, with Salome working part-time in the Patchwork Cottage and with Meadow and me doing a lot of quilting for the baby, we’ve had the opportunity to see her a little more. But under ordinary circumstances, I wouldn’t have come by her house. Posy called me when Salome didn’t show up for work this morning.”

  Ramsay nodded. “I’ll have to speak with Posy, then. Did she happen to mention what time Salome should have been there?”

  “Well, the shop opens at ten o’clock and Posy said that Salome was supposed to open. I’m sure Posy would have probably expected Salome there a little earlier than opening time to make sure the shop was tidy and the cash register ready to go. At any rate, a customer apparently called Posy to ask why the Patchwork Cottage was still closed. I called Posy to see if Noo-noo could hang out at the shop while the construction was going on and she told me she was worried about Salome,” said Beatrice.

  Ramsay asked, “Do you know where Salome’s sister and her daughter are?”

  Beatrice shook her head slowly. “No. I’m sure Carla is going to be devastated. I’m not sure where she works. Posy said that usually her sister left the house earlier than Salome to go to work and drop Jenna off at preschool for her.” She swallowed. “Her poor family.”

  “We’ll find out who did this,” said Ramsay grimly.

  Beatrice said, “I just can’t figure out why someone would feel they had to murder Salome. She didn’t seem to really know anything when I talked with her about Gerald’s death.” She
paused and then said slowly, “There was one thing. But I’m not sure that I didn’t just imagine it.”

  Ramsay said, “I’d like to hear it, regardless, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t know whether she told you or not, but Salome indicated that she’d been at Gerald’s office the morning he was killed,” said Beatrice.

  Ramsay’s eyebrows shot up. “No, she didn’t tell me anything about that. Did she go inside the office?”

  “No. At least, that’s not what she told me. She said that she hung around for a few minutes but didn’t see Gerald’s car there. Then she said that she’d driven away.”

  Ramsay frowned. “That’s kind of odd. His car was definitely parked there, but maybe it wasn’t in the spot that Salome expected it to be in.”

  Beatrice said, “Or maybe something else happened that made Salome drive off. Maybe she saw someone else there. When she realized that she wasn’t going to have a private audience with Gerald, she decided to leave and try again another time.”

  Ramsay asked intently, “Did she say that she had seen someone there?”

  “No, but when I asked her if she had, she didn’t immediately answer me,” said Beatrice.

  “So maybe she did see someone. The killer. And now, suddenly, Salome is dead, too,” said Ramsay, looking frustrated. “But why wouldn’t she have told me—or you—what she’d seen?”

  “Maybe she wasn’t totally sure what she’d seen and she was still trying to process it. Maybe she was afraid of implicating someone when she wasn’t positive they were responsible. Or maybe she considered trying to make money from her knowledge.” Beatrice shrugged and said sadly, “As you mentioned earlier, desperate times call for desperate measures.”