MURDER BY MUSIC
THE WEDDING QUILT
BARBARA GRAHAM
FIVE STAR
A part of Gale, Cengage Learning
Copyright © 2011 by Barbara Graham.
Five Star Publishing, a part of Gale, Cengage Learning.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
No part of this work covered by the copyright herein may be reproduced, transmitted, stored, or used in any form or by any means graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including but not limited to photocopying, recording, scanning, digitizing, taping, Web distribution, information networks, or information storage and retrieval systems, except as permitted under Section 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Graham, Barbara, 1948−
Murder by music: the wedding quilt, a quilted mystery / Barbara Graham. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4328-2544-7 (hardcover)
ISBN-10: 1-4328-2544-5 (hardcover)
eISBN-13: 978-1-4328-2735-9 eISBN-10: 1-4328-2735-9
1. Sheriffs—Fiction. 2. Quilting—Fiction. 3. Tennessee—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3607.R336M86 2011
813'.6—dc23 2011024995
First Edition. First Printing: October 2011.
Published in conjunction with the Author.
This title is available as an e-book.
ISBN-13: 978-1-4328-2735-9 ISBN-10: 1-4328-2735-9
Printed in the United States of America
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 15 14 13 12 11
For Denny
Acknowledgements
With grateful thanks to my confused but accepting friends and family. I know it can't be easy dealing with my failure to keep up with the real world.
Thanks again to Michelle Quick, who doesn't like to do mystery quilts, thereby becoming the best possible tester. (If there's a problem, it's all her fault.)
To companion dogs without equal—Max and Grace insist I not spend all my time with imaginary friends. We are often together at the lakes checking for ducks, herons, swans, swallows, pelicans, and their favorite—other people with dogs.
Last, but certainly not least, my editor Alice Duncan, who makes sense of my stories.
BIG AS A MOUNTAIN MYSTERY QUILT
FIRST SET OF CLUES
This quilt is a large wall hanging or oversized lap quilt. Use flannel on the back and snuggle in for the winter season. Approximately 60″ by 70″.
All fabric requirements are generous and based on standard width fabric of approximately 40″ of usable fabric. The instructions assume familiarity with basic quilt construction and sewing an accurate 1/4″ seam. After cutting it out, be sure to save your scraps—just in case.
Fabric requirements:
Fabric #1—the main fabric, 2 2/3 yards of a non-directional print with light or dark background and motifs including at least three additional colors.
Fabric #2—2 yards of a strong medium matching one of the colors in the motifs.
Fabric #3—1 1/8 yards of a medium matching another color from motifs.
Fabric #4—1/2 yard of contrasting medium—may be darker or lighter than the others.
Cutting instructions: As you cut, be sure to label pieces by color number and size cut.
From Fabric #1—Cut 6 strips 6 1/4″ by WOF (width of fabric), subcut into 36 squares 6 1/4″.
Cut 5 strips 4″ by WOF and subcut into 48 squares 4″.
Cut 3 strips 4 3/8″ by WOF and subcut into 24 squares 4 3/8″.
Cut 7 strips 2 3/8″ by WOF.
Cut 4 squares 4 1/2″ from the remainder.
From Fabric #2—Cut 4 strips 4 1/2″ by LOF (length of fabric).
From remaining piece cut 8 strips 2 3/8 by WOF (approximately 22″).
Cut 2 strips 4 3/8″ WOF and subcut into 8 squares 4 3/8″.
Cut 8 squares 4″ from remainder.
From Fabric #3—Cut 5 strips 2 3/8″ by WOF.
Cut 8 strips 2 1/2″ by WOF.
Cut 8 squares 4″ from remainder.
From Fabric #4—Cut 2 strips 4 3/8″ by WOF. Subcut into 16 squares 4 3/8″.
Cut 3 strips 2 3/8″ by WOF.
CHAPTER ONE
Theo Abernathy tried to massage some of the tightness out of her aching back without Tony noticing. Her husband was worried, which was sweet. She appreciated his concern, but she needed a break and she'd get it in three days. The quilting retreat had been planned longer than she'd been pregnant.
She watched as Tony frowned, pulling his forehead wrinkles down to his eyebrows. After a moment, he grinned. His bald scalp smoothed and his bright blue eyes twinkled. “Couldn't you have your quilting retreat in town for a change instead of going up to The Lodge?”
“No.”
“That's it? No? What happened to discussion and negotiation?” Tony pointed to their wedding picture. “Wasn't it in the vows?”
“No.” Theo shook her head. The expression of mock outrage on Tony's face gave her the giggles, and she collapsed onto the bed laughing. “We are discussing it. You won the driving prize. You get to drive me up the mountain on Friday, lug my suitcase inside, along with my project bags and boxes, and vanish. I promise to sit with my feet up and do hand appliqué or hand quilting and let the hotel staff wait on me.”
Tony tried frowning again, but Theo ignored him.
“You and the boys can watch football and eat junk food all weekend. I talked to Edith, and she said for you to call her any time, and she will run right over and stay with the boys.” Theo knew part of Tony's reluctance had to do with having his mom and aunt up at the retreat with her. As the sheriff of Park County, Tennessee, he could be called out at any time, day or night. If their next door neighbor wasn't a sweetheart who offered to stay with their two little boys, whenever needed, Theo wouldn't be going away. “I'll be home in time for Jamie's birthday celebration. I've already arranged for Blossom to deliver the cake. She's going to decorate it to look like a baseball field.”
“Okay, okay, you win.” Tony joined her on the bed. “Just to prove I'm not a sore loser, roll over and I'll massage your back.”
“Now that sounds divine.” Theo rolled as well as she could, given the already enormous size of her belly. Twins. She patted the small bulge near her ribcage and the foot digging into her side moved. A sigh escaped her as Tony's big hands eased some of the soreness out of her back. “While I'm up there, I promise to call you only if someone gets killed.”
Tony twisted around until he could look into her face. “Are you expecting homicide?”
“No. I'm being silly. Quilters are too obsessed with fabric and chocolate to indulge in much violence. No one wants to risk getting blood on the fabric. Sometimes there's the threat of fabric thievery.” She poked his shoulder with one finger until he sat up. “Our guest teacher isn't a quilter though, maybe she'll be a problem.”
“What's this about a guest teacher? I thought your group was all about doing your own thing.”
“We are.” Theo eased off the bed. “But Scarlet LaFle
ur is a world renowned expert in Armenian embroidery. She is coming into town early for the wedding of Celeste and Patrick. Coming to the quilt retreat was her idea.”
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Early,” Tony muttered. “Why so early?”
“I have no idea.” Theo shook her head. “Or why she wants to hang out with a bunch of quilters. We're usually a lot louder and messier than embroiderers. Kind of like magpies versus robins. Embroiderers tend to keep their threads in good order and never trail scraps all over the place.”
“At least, no dead bodies. Please, promise me. Especially not on Saturday.” Tony shuddered in mock fear. “All those spooks and goblins.”
Theo stared at her husband for a moment, wondering what she had missed. He looked almost desperate. Then it came to her. “Saturday's not Halloween.” She had to laugh. “It's a week from Saturday. I'll be back long before then. And even if it was, the boys have their costumes all planned and the candy is hidden in the kitchen. There are three bags in the bottom cabinet, behind the flour.”
“One bag's empty.”
“You didn't!” Theo stared. Her husband looked as guilty as either of their sons would have if caught in a similar situation. “Did you share with the boys?”
Tony's response was interrupted by the ringing of his cell phone, so he just shook his head. “Yes?” He listened to the caller's message and said, “On my way.”
To Theo he said, “Call me if Gretchen can't take you to the shop.” And, after giving her a quick kiss, he trotted down the stairs.
Tony opened the front door, stopped and swore softly. Thick, gray fog concealed everything below the top step. Somewhere under it should be a newspaper and three more steps. He explored each step with his foot until he located the newspaper, which he dropped just inside the front door. Cautiously, he continued down the rest of the steps and onto the sidewalk. His wariness was rewarded when he discovered a skateboard in his path. Tony tossed it into the yard.
Parked at the curb was his white Blazer with its green trim and insignia. The official Park County Sheriff's vehicle, complete with enough lights on the roof to cover the whole thing. Stopping in front of the Blazer, he whacked the hood with the palm of his hand twice, waited a couple of seconds and whacked it again. A pair of calico cats dropped to the street and shot up onto the grass. As soon as they were a safe distance from him, the smaller one turned and hissed at him, showing a lot of teeth and attitude. Ignoring the cats, Tony climbed into the car, rolled down his window and listened. It was quiet enough to hear the gurgles of the tiny creek running through the park and along the side of his house. He could almost hear the leaves falling.
Driving along the fog shrouded streets of the little town he knew so well, he didn't see another moving vehicle and noticed very few lights. The traditional end of tourist season had arrived last weekend, and now the whole town seemed to be recovering, sleeping in. The place looked much like it had when he had first seen it. Not quite a native, his family relocated here when he was eight. While in high school, he had dreamed of escaping and living someplace exciting. First there had been the Navy, and then college and finally a job with the Chicago PD. The opportunity to run for sheriff had come while he was recovering from a near fatal shooting that had left him with a monster scar, permanent indigestion and a hope of raising his children in the more peaceful environment near family. Silersville was home. He loved it.
Unlike neighboring Blount and Sevier counties, which had towns large enough to support a local police department, Park County, Tennessee had only the sheriff's department. His office contracted with the town to supply local law enforcement. Park County itself was a tiny wedge-shape piece of land that had been the result of long ago blackmail by Amoes Siler, one of Theo's relatives.
As he drove down the silent street to the address given by Blossom Flowers, he radioed dispatch asking for his deputy, Wade's location and considered the reason he'd been called out. The Flowers family had only lived in the area for maybe five generations. Blossom was the youngest and the closest thing Tony had to a groupie. Her adoration did not make him feel like a rock star. This was not her house, but she was the person who'd called 911 to report a man had died.
Tony pulled to a stop next to the sidewalk. Wade Claybough, Tony's eager beaver deputy, arrived immediately afterwards and parked his vehicle behind Tony's. The impossibly handsome deputy wasn't smiling as he climbed out of his car. Tony joined him, and they stared at the small house sheltered by a pair of huge maple trees. Brilliant yellow and red leaves drifted onto the grass. A nod of Tony's head sent Wade toward the back door, clearly ajar, illuminated by the golden light coming from the kitchen.
The fog swirled as Tony made his way up the front sidewalk, allowing him to see first Blossom's orange hair glowing like a beacon, and then her bulky figure sitting on the front steps of the house. On closer inspection, he saw her chubby fingers clutching a large package of cream-filled chocolate cupcakes. A box of tissues sat next to her, the used ones lined up in a tidy row along the edge of the step. Her protruding blue eyes were red-rimmed and watery. A blob of cream filling stuck to her upper lip and he could see chocolate cake crumbs trapped in the crevice between her third and fourth chins. The navy blue, short sleeved plaid shirt was too tight and cut into the soft flesh of her upper arms. Her expression turned from woe to worship at the sight of Tony. For a second, he thought she was going to jump off the steps and into his arms and start licking his face.
“How are you doing, Blossom?” Unwilling to upset her more than necessary, he was careful to make his voice low and soothing.
Tears welled, magnifying her huge eyes. “Oh, it's just terrible. I came to work just like usual, and then I saw him there, and he was sitting in his favorite chair. And he's dead!” A choking sob rose in her throat. She set a half-eaten cupcake back in the package and dabbed at her eyes with another tissue.
“Did you see anyone on your way in?”
“Couldn't see nothin' for the fog.” A gentle belch rolled out from behind the tissue.
A moment later, Wade appeared at the corner of the house, shaking his head in response to Tony's inquiring glance. It meant there was no reason to call for medical assistance, just for the coroner.
After one more shuddering sob, Blossom recovered sufficiently from her shock and grief to polish off the rest of the cupcake. A faint aroma of chocolate hung in the damp air. Tony's stomach rumbled with a combination of his constant indigestion and lack of breakfast. He searched his pockets until he found an antacid tablet. There was only a little lint on it, which he dusted off before popping it into his mouth.
“Are you working for Mr. Beasley now?” Wade moved toward them and glanced at the front door and Blossom.
“Sort of.” Blossom sniffled. “I still work at Ruby's, but Mr. Beasley needed someone to cook for him and do laundry and such and I could use the money.”
“What time did you get here, Blossom?” Tony said.
“A little after seven. I was a few minutes late 'cause I stopped to pick up a little snack. And some eggs for Mr. Beasley.” She sniffled daintily. “Then I had to go slow 'cause of the fog. It ain't been this bad in months.”
She paused, as if waiting for Tony to nod in agreement. He did.
“Mr. Beasley, he don't like much besides eggs for lunch. Said they made his hair shine, you know.” Another shuddering sob worked its way out. “It must a worked, 'cause did you ever see prettier hair than his?” She was staring openly at Tony's bald scalp.
“Can you tell me anything else that happened recently? Anything unusual, that is.”
She puckered her little lips. Then she furrowed her brow. Finally shrugging, she answered, “No. He was his regular self when I stopped by yesterday afternoon about four. I was on my way to get my hair done, since I work every morning but Sunday and you just try to get a beauty operator to work on Saturday afternoon.”
Tony forced himself not to smile. One thing he like
d about Blossom was her hair. She was one of the few people in town who had almost as little as he did. Where his remaining hairs were shaved away, hers grew in little tufts, which she dyed a remarkable shade of orange. The whole mess was then glued into an artful arrangement bearing a curious resemblance to rusted steel wool. “He didn't say anything about feeling unwell?”
She pursed her lips again and furrowed her brow, pressing her index finger against her chin. It was obviously the “thinking” look she preferred. He wondered if she practiced it in front of the mirror. Finally she made her decision. “No.”
“Did you ever hear him arguing with anyone?”
“No.” She wadded up her tissue and put it in the cupcake package. “Well, yes, lots of times. But not yesterday. I don't remember who it was either.” Gathering the rest of the tissues and putting them in the package, she shifted back and forth on the step, avoiding eye contact. “I don't feel too good, Tony.”
“Go on home, Blossom, and get some rest. I'll be in touch later on, but do me a favor?”
She nodded.
Tony doubted it would do any good, but he asked, “Don't talk much about this yet? Okay? If something's happened to him, I'd like to notify the family first.”
Bobbing her head in agreement, Blossom heaved herself to her feet and started down the sidewalk.
“Oh, Blossom, could I have the key so I can lock up here?”
“Don't need one.” She didn't even pause. “Just push the little button thing before you shut the door.”
Tony smiled. “Never mind then. I can handle that okay.”
Still hiccupping, Blossom waddled toward her car until even the orange hair vanished into the milky fog.
Wade waited until Blossom was out of hearing. “He's dead, all right. Sitting in his recliner. The television is on, and he's still holding the remote control. It looks like he just fell asleep.”
“That's the second senior citizen this week.” Tony said.
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