“I’ve seen traces of that, too, Kate. Something real and decent,” Po said.
“Well, it wouldn’t hurt the woman to let a few others see that side of her,” Gus said. “Rita and I invited her to a book signing here at the store—one of those cocktail things we do. We thought maybe she’d like getting to know some folks—”
“And maybe fill her B&B library from books she’d buy here?” Leah teased.
“Sure, a little business. A little pleasure. But you know my Rita, she decided this is what a newcomer in town needed and she would have introduced her to everyone within fifty miles.”
“But she turned you down,” Kate said.
“Flatter than Kansas,” Gus said. “And was rude in the process.”
“It’s a protection, I think,” Po said. “But I think in time she’ll warm up.”
“Well, let’s hope she’s not finding herself warming up in the cooler.”
Po shook her head. “You’re hopeless, Gus, and on that note, I need to get moving. Leah and I are going to stop by Adele’s to see if there’s anything we can do.”
But when Po and Leah drove down Kingfish Drive a few minutes later, they could see that the iron gates leading to the drive were closed and locked, and in the distance, crowding the curve of the drive, three police cars stood guard over a murder scene.
That night, Po’s Sunday dinner group started out small. The tradition her Sam had started years ago still held the unknown—twenty people might show up—or four—one never knew. But no matter the number, those who came were welcome and could always count on a tasty meal that Po seemed to whip up out of nothing. Dinner, martinis, and always dessert. It was a mystery how it all came about, but one her friends and neighbors were eternally grateful for. This Sunday night, Maggie, Max, P.J. and Kate, Leah, her husband Tim, and Eleanor dropped in, each carrying a bottle of wine or loaf of bread—and tidbits about Adele Harrington. Po had tried to reach Halley, thinking she might enjoy the gathering, but she had to leave a message when Halley didn’t answer.
P.J. manned the grill while Kate prepared drinks, and Po urged everyone out to the deck to enjoy the wonderful starry evening, and maybe the last outdoor gathering before winter set in. They’d gotten a later-than-usual start and P.J. was piling shrimp and vegetables on the grill.
“I got a strange call this morning,” Maggie said, standing near the deck railing. She wore faded jeans and a soft fleece jacket. “Adele Harrington called me at home. She asked me to open the clinic so she could bring Emerson in to board him.” Maggie eyed the platter of Thai spring rolls that Eleanor was placing on the long deck table. “Isn’t that kind of odd? Emerson seems to be her one true friend—you’d think she would want to keep him close, especially at times like this.”
Eleanor pushed up the sleeves of her silky red blouse and handed Maggie a paper plate with a spoonful of peanut sauce for the spring rolls, which were overflowing with tiny pink shrimp and flecks of cilantro and mint. “That’s odd,” Eleanor said. “Adele loves that dog more than life itself. I ran into her down at the river park the other day while my yoga class was exercising on the lawn. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a few days, but every time Emerson rubbed against her, her face relaxed and she seemed almost happy.”
“Seems like Adele placed more than one call this morning.” Leah looked over at Max. “Po and I saw her leaving your office bright and early.”
Max took a chilled martini from the tray Kate held in front of him. “This is a difficult time for her,” he said. “She wanted to check some insurance policies to make sure the property was covered. She just needed assurance that her legal affairs were in order.”
“That sounds ominous,” Maggie said. “Isn’t that something you do before you die—or go off to jail?”
Po listened to the conversation as she walked back and forth between the kitchen and the deck, piling napkins and silverware on the table, bringing out pitchers of water and salt and pepper. The night was so pleasant and the group so small that she’d decided they would settle into the comfortable deck chairs and settees and eat right there beneath the stars. She had thought about calling Adele to see if she needed company and would like to join them, but she knew as surely as anything that she’d be turned down. And with good reason. Were she in Adele’s situation right now, socializing would be the last thing on her mind.
“Did Adele talk about Joe’s funeral at all?” P.J. asked from his position at the grill. “They won’t release the body for a couple days, but someone should be making plans to give the guy a decent burial.”
“No. I asked, but she ignored me,” Max said. “I don’t think she feels responsible for burying Joe, and I suppose, officially, she isn’t.”
“Reverend Gottrey will take care of it if no one steps up to the plate,” Po said. “I called him about it today. It’s so sad when there’s no family—or even close friends—to take care of these things.”
P.J. carried a platter of skewers stacked with plump, spicy grilled shrimp and scallops to the table. Po followed with orzo sprinkled with feta cheese and snow peas, a basket of sour dough rolls, and a heaping bowl of spinach salad. She slipped her arms through a thick blue cardigan sweater, fixed herself a plate, and settled onto the glider beside Max. “It’s good to be with friends,” she said softly.
Beside her, Max nodded. He reached out and touched her hand, then looked up at the stars flung wide across the black sky. “This sky makes me think of Ollie. He was so brilliant when it came to the heavens.”
“I never even met him, and that’s so odd in a small town like this,” Maggie said.
“I think you had to fit into a certain compartment of his life,” Leah said. “Otherwise your paths wouldn’t cross. His life seemed to be the college, his classes with Jed, the library, and his home. Being there with Joe.”
“And Halley Peterson,” Po added. “It’s somehow comforting to know that Ollie had a friend like Halley. And it’s clear to me she genuinely cared for him. And for Joe, too. The past couple weeks have been difficult for her.”
“P.J. and I saw her today after we left Gus’s store.” Kate rose and put her empty plate on the table, then propped herself up on the wide railing, her arms folded over a thick cotton sweater Po had knitted for her. “She and Jed were walking toward campus, deep in conversation. I don’t think they even saw us. Halley looked upset, and so sad. And Jed was clearly a comforting shoulder to lean on.”
“Jed was so good to Ollie,” Leah said. “They have that in common. I’m glad Halley has someone to talk with. As busy as Jed is, he’s making time for her, and that’s a good thing.”
“Coffee anyone?” Po asked, rising from the glider.
“And I brought ice cream,” Eleanor added. “Let me help, Po.”
As the two women headed for the French doors leading inside, the sound of a siren in the distance cut through the crisp night air. Eleanor paused at the door. “Such a mournful sound,” she said. “And it always means distressing news for someone.”
Po looked out into the darkness. Tiny lights illuminated the giant oaks and pine trees in her backyard—a perfect, peaceful setting. But she felt it, too, the unsettling feeling of unknown lives being changed in an instant by an auto crash, a heart attack, a random, freak accident. She walked on into the house. “Let’s hope it’s no one we know, El.”
Eleanor busied herself in the kitchen, scooping large portions of ice cream in bowls while Po filled a tray with cups, cream and sugar, and the coffee pot. “Fudge sauce?” Po asked.
But before she could open the refrigerator, a different sound, much closer, joined the sirens.
“Now that’s a sound you don’t often hear,” Eleanor said, wiping her hands on a towel and glancing toward Po’s front hall. “It’s your doorbell. Who in heaven’s name uses your doorbell, Po?”
“Not many people,” Po admitted. “Not when they know it’s just as easy to push it open and walk in.” Po walked quickly toward the front of her house. T
he sound of the sirens quickened her step as she reached the front door and pulled it open.
Po looked out into the darkness, and before she could speak, Halley Peterson flung herself into Po’s arms.
CHAPTER 17
“Oh, Halley, dear,” Po murmured, drawing the disheveled woman into the front hall. Halley’s brown hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. A sweater was wrapped carelessly around her shoulders and her Canterbury tee shirt was half-tucked into the waist of her jeans. For a brief moment, Po thought she might have been in an accident. “Are you all right?”
Halley drew apart, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks with the back of her hand. She nodded, her throat too tight for words to pass.
“Come in,” Po said, and drew Halley through the entryway and into the warm glow of the family room lights. Eleanor brought a glass of water over to her while Po urged Halley to sit on the couch. In the distance, the sirens increased in volume, filling the night air with a strident symphony.
Kate rushed in from the back deck, her dark hair flying. “Po,” she called out, “there’s a fire somewhere. We can smell the smoke.” She stopped suddenly, spotting Halley.
“It’s Joe—” Halley said, looking up at Kate.
“Joe?” Po asked gently. The wild look in Halley’s eyes was disturbing. And now her words weren’t making sense.
Halley shook her head, as if trying to straighten her thoughts, to put them in order. “Joe’s apartment,” Halley said. Her voice was almost a whisper. “The Harrington’s garage is on fire.”
By then the rest of the Sunday supper crowd had come inside and were busying themselves in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher, talking softly, and hoping Halley could provide more information as they listened to the soft voices across the room.
“Halley, were you there?” Po said, sitting beside the distraught woman.
Halley nodded. “I went over to see if Adele would let me in Joe’s place—to get…to get some things. The police were gone by then, and I knew Adele wouldn’t wait long to throw everything out of Joe’s apartment. I wanted to salvage some things Ollie had given Joe, some things that meant a lot to Ollie and Joe. She almost threw me off the property, threatened to call the police back. Said she’d had enough bad things happen to her.”
Po handed Halley a tissue, and she continued.
“So I went back tonight, determined to not let all remnants of those two good men end in a dumpster.” A sad smile eased the tense lines outlining her face. “I knew where Joe kept a key to his place, and I decided I’d just go in and take some things. I know it’s wrong, but I didn’t care. I walked along the bushes hidden from the house, and was half-way there when I spotted the flames.”
“And then?”
“And then I was so frightened that I turned and ran in the opposite direction toward the street—I didn’t want Adele to see me. And then I…” Halley paused and seemed to be deciding what to say next. When she spoke again, her words were planned, thoughtful, careful. “Then I wandered around the neighborhood for awhile, away from the Harrington house but close enough to hear the sirens, not knowing where to go. I saw your lights, Po. And you’ve been so kind to me—”
A knock on the back door broke into the quiet room.
Max walked over to it and pushed it open for Jed Fellers, his face washed in worry. “Halley? Is she here?”
Max nodded and motioned for Jed to come in. “She’s in need of friends, I think,” he said softly and motioned toward the living area.
Jed smiled his thanks and walked over to the couch. He looked at Halley’s tear-stained face. “Are you okay, Halley? I was so worried when I got your message. I could hear those sirens all the way over on campus—but couldn’t find you.”
Halley wiped the tears from her cheek and looked up at Jed. “Jed, it was so awful. I know you told me not to go over there, that Adele would turn me away. But I had to—”
Po got up to make room for Jed on the couch. “Sit, Jed,” she said, and walked over to Max while Halley repeated the story to a distraught Jed.
“Po,” Max whispered, “P.J. and I are going to run over and check on Adele. We’ll be back shortly.”
Po nodded.
“Adele was home,” Halley was saying now. “Standing in the driveway, watching it burn. I saw her—”
And she probably saw you, Po thought, trying to put the distressing consequences out of her mind. She sat down across from Halley and listened while she finished telling Jed how she’d run away, frightened and unsure of what to do.
Eleanor had put on a pot of tea and placed a cup down in front of Halley, along with a pot of cream. “This will warm you, dear,” she said. “Jed, I think I’ll bring you a stiff drink.”
Jed smiled his thanks.
Halley took a sip of the tea. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your party, Po. I just, well, I knew Jed was working and I didn’t know where else to go. And it was all so awful, seeing those flames.”
“Po’s door is always open, Halley,” Kate said. “This was a good choice. And you’re not interrupting anything. In fact, Po left you a message to stop by if you were hungry, but couldn’t reach you. Jed can tell you—he’s been to Sam’s Sunday suppers. Everyone is welcome.”
Jed took the drink that Eleanor handed him and smiled his thanks. “Sam’s suppers have pulled me through some lonely times in the past. And this would have been a safer place for Halley to be tonight, that’s for sure.” He looped an arm around the couch behind her. “Halley wanted to help—and also to make sure that in her grief, Adele didn’t throw away things she’d be sorry about later. But I don’t think Adele is there yet. I don’t think she can let other people in.”
Po agreed. “She’s starting to let her defenses down a little, but you’re right, Jed. It’s going to take her awhile.” Po could see the color coming back into Halley’s cheeks as they talked.
“I know I shouldn’t have gone over there,” Halley said, her voice stronger now. “Jed told me not to. He said it would only make Adele angry. But I thought she’d be reasonable.”
“You and Ollie were very close,” Kate said.
Halley nodded. “I loved him. Not in a romantic, get-married kind of way. But we had a kind of spiritual connection,” she said. “We read to each other and wrote poems together. We shared out thoughts. I’ve never been able to do that with anyone before. But Ollie was different. And he knew I appreciated that he was different and didn’t condemn him for it. And he did the same for me.”
The sound of the back door slamming announced that Max was back. He walked through the open kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and joined them near the fireplace. “It’s under control,” he said. “P.J. stayed on to talk with the police.”
“Police?” Po said.
“The fire wasn’t an accident,” Max said. The words were spoken carefully.
Po’s head jerked up. “They’re sure?”
Halley’s eyes filled her oval face. “Oh, no,” she murmured. One hand covered her mouth.
Jed’s arm dropped to her shoulder and he moved closer.
“Yes, they’re sure,” Max said. “It was definitely arson. But only Joe’s apartment was affected. The garage below wasn’t badly damaged. Whoever did it wasn’t very adept at lighting fires if the goal was to burn the whole estate down. The breezeway leading to the house was only mildly burned.”
“How is Adele?” Eleanor asked.
Max was quiet for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around the warm mug of coffee. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully. “Adele was certainly upset. A murder in her backyard and a fire within one single weekend is enough to shake the most stalwart of folks.”
Po listened and nodded. She couldn’t imagine what Adele must be feeling right now, and she wondered if this might be the final straw. Would Adele call it quits, sell the property, and move away to another life that didn’t include murder and fires and someone threatening her dog? She certainly couldn’t b
lame her if she did.
Max placed his mug on the old coffee table that filled the space between the two overstuffed sofas. He reached over to touch Halley’s hand. “Halley, this isn’t what you need tonight, but I need to tell you this.”
Halley pressed closer into Jed’s side, but she looked directly into Max’s eyes.
Po could tell that Halley wasn’t going to be surprised at what Max would say, though she was dreading the words.
“Adele told the police that she saw a woman running away from the garage,” he said. “She didn’t name you. But she described you, from your brown hair, down to your Canterbury tee shirt.”
Halley’s eyes were dry now, her face composed and her look, level and direct. “And I saw Adele, Max,” she said. “I saw her standing in the driveway as straight as an arrow, calmly staring up at the flames lapping at the side of the carriage house. That’s what I saw.”
CHAPTER 18
It was Phoebe who called the impromptu meeting of the Queen Bees for Monday night. The emails went out first thing Monday morning and the tone was insistent.
Meet at Selma’s at seven tonight. Bring your quilt, your spirit, and your desire to turn our town back into a safe place for my babies!
Po wasn’t sure if it was Phoebe’s dismay at missing the excitement of Sunday night that precipitated her action— she rarely missed a Sunday dinner—or simply her big heart and desire to help Halley Peterson out of the mess she’d fallen in to.
But she knew it was more than her desire to put the finishing stitches on Adele Harrington’s quilts.
The Bees worked better with food, so Kate brought a fettuccini salad sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan cheese, fresh dill, and crisp, grilled vegetables, Po brought leftover apple pie, and Eleanor brought two chilled bottles of Chablis. While Selma plugged in the coffee pot, Po gave an abbreviated account of the fire.
“So poor Halley is under suspicion now?” she asked when Po was finished.
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