“Not at all. The very fact that he noticed me shows that he wasn’t that focused. He even lifted a hand to wave to me when I’d spotted him. It sure didn’t appear to me that he’d any intention of leaving any time soon. His client had already left the house in his own car and Devlin was sitting on the stairs of the home, looking at something on his phone,” said Arnold.
They again absorbed this for a few moments. Then Meadow, breaking the silence, asked, “It’s really too bad that you’re getting ready to move. The house is gorgeous and has such an amazing view. Are you sure you can’t be persuaded to give Dappled Hills a chance? It could be your retreat when things get too crazy in the city.”
Trust Meadow to be the goodwill ambassador for the town, even under the circumstances.
He smiled at her. “Despite the beauty of the town and the mountains, I’m more of a city person. I have a home in Atlanta and a home in Florida and I’m planning on keeping those as my home bases. Once I pack everything up here, I’ll have it all trucked to one or both of those places.” He gave Beatrice a thoughtful look. “I’m a little surprised that you ended up here. You seemed to always enjoy life in Atlanta.”
“It was time for me to retire and live a quieter life. Leaving the traffic behind was a huge stress-reducer. It’s hard to find a time of day when driving in Atlanta is a straightforward process. There were other reasons for my settling here, too. You may not realize it, but my daughter lives here,” said Beatrice. “She’s actually married to Meadow’s son.”
Meadow, always ready to brag about Ash, said, “They’re an adorable couple. He’s teaching at the university. And starting to do some quilting!”
Beatrice continued, “And in the process of staying in Dappled Hills to be near Piper, I fell in love with the town . . . and a local minister.”
Arnold gave her a pleased smile and Meadow interjected, “And they also make an adorable couple.”
Arnold asked her a few questions about Wyatt and their life together and then said, “Do you think you could give me Wyatt’s phone number? I’d like to speak with him about a service.”
Beatrice said, “Of course, I can. But I have to admit that I’m a little surprised. You’re not planning on moving Annabelle back to Atlanta? That’s where she spent the majority of her life.”
Arnold shrugged. “She honestly didn’t have a lot of roots there, or really anywhere. She didn’t get close to many people. I’ll certainly have a memorial service in Atlanta for Annabelle, but I can’t think that she would have wanted to be buried there. I know that Annabelle liked complaining and was fond of finding fault with places, but she felt connected to Dappled Hills. I was happy knowing that she’d found a town where she felt relaxed and at peace.”
Beatrice said, “I’ll be sure to tell Wyatt to expect your call. I’m sure he’d be honored to officiate the service.”
Arnold nodded. Then he said curiously, “Forgive me, but I remember something of a bone of contention between you and Annabelle. Wasn’t there a work of art or something?”
Beatrice said wryly, “You have quite a good memory. That’s right—I was willed a work of art by a friend in the art world.” She was careful not to mention what it was. Meadow gave her a sideways glance.
Arnold raised his eyebrows. “And Annabelle wanted it?”
“That’s right. She admired it and wanted the piece for her own collection,” said Beatrice.
Arnold gave her an admiring look. “And still you retained it. I’m impressed. When Annabelle wanted something, she always got it.”
Beatrice smiled at him in return. The last thing she could say is that Annabelle had gotten it and that it had been the weapon that ended her life. At this point, Beatrice didn’t care if she never saw the sword again.
Beatrice and Meadow left Arnold as he slowly and carefully continued packing up works of art.
They got into Meadow’s van, which immediately started making protesting noises. Meadow, sounding distracted, asked, “Where to next?”
Beatrice said, “I think that’s enough for today. I should get back home to Noo-noo who probably wants to go out for a walk. And I should probably start thinking about what to make for supper or else Wyatt and I will be eating cereal again.”
Meadow grunted in response, still deep in thought. After a few moments, she asked, “What do you make of all this? It seems as though there are quite a few people who could potentially have murdered Annabelle. Why couldn’t she have simply gotten along with people here?”
Beatrice sighed. “Well, it’s never really cut-and-dried, is it? There’s usually a motley assortment of suspects and this time is no different. Gene, the allegedly gentle architect, still strikes me as someone who had good reason to be unhappy with Annabelle.”
Meadow nodded. “You’re right. He’s the kind of guy who follows a strict routine every day. I bet he’d come home from the office every single night and go up on his roof to watch the stars and have a glass of wine while he surveyed his gorgeous view. When he had a gorgeous view.”
“Then he had to deal with construction noises until the house was constructed. When the house was finally completed, he found that his gorgeous view was now completely blocked. The next thing he knows, his new neighbor is lobbying for a new cell phone tower to be built that will create another blight on the mountain. Gene had a lot to be unhappy about,” said Beatrice.
Meadow said, “Then there’s Trixie. Or Trixie and Elias?”
Beatrice said, “I would ordinarily think of Elias as a suspect since he was having an affair with Annabelle. But I can’t see why on earth he’d kill her. He was the one who broke it off with her after all. Trixie had given him that ultimatum, and he chose his wife over Annabelle. It seems to me that if anyone had reason to be furious, it would be Annabelle over being dumped. And it sounded from what Arnold said that she wasn’t amused about it. It makes me wonder if Annabelle tried to get Elias back, just so she could end the relationship on her own terms.”
Meadow held her hand out to survey her nails, causing Beatrice to clutch the door until her hand was safely back on the steering wheel. “That makes sense. And I bet Trixie wouldn’t have taken kindly to having Annabelle chase Elias. So maybe Trixie makes a good suspect, then.”
“She was a woman scorned. Trixie might have held a grudge. Although it sounded as though she was handling it all with an even temper. Trixie was the one who ultimately got her husband back, after all,” said Beatrice. “Do you know much about Trixie?”
Meadow shrugged. “You know how it is here. I’ve definitely heard things through the years. One thing I’ve always noticed was that Elias and Trixie seemed to have a real love affair. I’ve seen them out together at the diner or at the grocery store and they’re always holding hands.”
Beatrice frowned. “They’re newlyweds?”
“That’s just it—they’re not. They’ve been married for probably upwards of fifteen years. They just have that kind of relationship,” said Meadow.
“And what do you think of Trixie personally?” asked Beatrice.
Meadow said, “She’s a tough cookie. I mean, she tones it down around customers because making customers happy is her livelihood. But she definitely likes getting her own way. You probably didn’t know this, but Trixie used to have a business partner who was a co-owner in the salon. That’s how she’d originally been able to finance the place to begin with. Property downtown is expensive to rent, you know? And it’s not cheap to get all the equipment you need for a salon.”
Beatrice said, “There’s no co-owner anymore, I’m guessing?”
“That’s right. Because Trixie and she argued all the time over the direction of the salon. Trixie told me that they couldn’t agree on anything—not even the types of posts they’d run on social media,” said Meadow.
“Did the other woman just quit?” asked Beatrice.
“Nope. Trixie bought her out,” said Meadow with a shrug. “Had to use some of Elias’s money from the plumbing business to do it, but I be
t he wanted to make sure to keep Trixie happy. It’s sort of like the old expression . . . if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.”
“You’re saying that Trixie could have been a little more upset than she seemed about Elias’s affair—and directed it toward Annabelle,” said Beatrice.
Meadow said, “It’s definitely a possibility. And, much as I like Devlin, he’s a suspect, too.”
“Right. Because he clearly wasn’t over their relationship. He was still really choked up over Annabelle’s death. If he waved to Arnold, then he must have realized he was out of the house and that Annabelle was alone. He decided it would be the perfect opportunity to plead with Annabelle to divorce her husband and start seeing him again. Maybe he lost control when she said no,” said Beatrice with a shrug.
“Stabbing her with a sword?” Meadow shivered. “I don’t know—it’s just hard for me to picture that.”
“It’s hard for you to picture anyone in Dappled Hills doing it,” said Beatrice.
“True. Which is why having Arnold Tremont responsible seems like the best option,” said Meadow as she pulled into Beatrice’s driveway. They smiled as Noo-noo, hearing the van, popped up in the picture window and grinned at them, cocking her head to one side fetchingly.
Beatrice said, “And the spouse is always considered the most-likely suspect.”
“Right. Except that I can’t really see him stabbing his wife, either. I know what you’re going to say,” said Meadow, holding up a hand. “But he’s just so dignified. He also seemed kind, unlike his wife. And you could tell he really loved her. After all, the whole reason he was in town was to try to win her back.”
“Arnold was always a nice guy when I saw him at events in Atlanta,” said Beatrice. “I’d always prefer hanging out with him over Annabelle, if I had the option. But the facts are pretty troubling, aren’t they? He decided that he wasn’t ready to divorce Annabelle, despite their separate lives. You’re looking at it as if he was trying to win her back, but maybe he lashed out when she didn’t share his vision of a shared life. They’d also apparently had that argument last night. Arnold admitted that the whole reason he took Barney for a walk was to cool off.”
“Do you think that the fact that he wanted Annabelle back was also a financial decision somehow?” asked Meadow, puckering her brow. “Divorces are super-expensive.”
“I think Arnold Tremont has all the money he needs. I’d be shocked if he had any sort of financial problems at all. But I do think that he’s the kind of man who really hates to lose. And I believe he’d consider the end of his marriage to be a loss, maybe even something that looks like a personal failure,” said Beatrice.
Meadow said, “So you think he came back from his long walk with his dog, tried to convince Annabelle not to divorce him, and then lost it?”
Beatrice said, “It’s possible. The police certainly aren’t letting him leave yet, so it’s something they’re considering, too.”
Meadow sighed. “It feels like we haven’t made much progress.”
“Actually, we’ve made a lot of progress. It’s just the fact that we haven’t figured out which of our suspects has done it.” Beatrice took off her seatbelt and saw Noo-noo jump up and put her paws on the glass window.
Meadow said, “Who do you think we should try and talk with tomorrow? You know that I want to clear Dappled Hills of any killers.”
Beatrice said with a smile, “While I appreciate your concern about town safety, your husband is in charge of law and order and seems to do a great job of that. Here’s what I’m thinking. Tomorrow is Sunday and I need to be at church with Wyatt. After that, we’re supposed to head over to the retirement home to eat lunch with some of the residents there.”
“And then we’ll go out and talk to some folks?” asked Meadow eagerly.
Beatrice shook her head. “Then I think it’ll be about time for me to take an afternoon nap. The food at that dining hall is super-heavy on Sundays. Besides, I still have that book of Wyatt’s and I’d like to make a little more headway with it.”
Meadow stared at her in horror. “That ghastly biography of John Wesley?”
“The ghastly biography of John Calvin,” corrected Beatrice dryly. “Unfortunately, it appears to be an undocumented sleep aid, so I haven’t been able to get too far with it.”
“I would think not!” said Meadow. “Well, when you finally give up on it, I can recommend some stuff that actually provides a real escape.”
Beatrice, who had already encountered a sample of what Meadow termed ‘escape literature,’ quickly hopped out of the car. “Maybe another time. I’m going to give this one another try.”
“All right. See you at church. And don’t forget the guild meeting on Monday! Remember we have a special activity,” said Meadow, giving a friendly toot of the horn as she backed the car up. The friendly toot succeeded in making Noo-noo erupt in a frenzy of barking.
Chapter Eight
SUNDAY WENT AS BEATRICE expected. Neither she nor Wyatt had been able to sleep very long on Saturday night and had woken up at four-thirty in the morning for good. Noo-noo gave Beatrice a bewildered look as if she’d made some sort of dreadful mistake getting up at such an hour.
But as much as Beatrice figured she’d pay for the lack of sleep later, there was something wonderful, and very unusual, in not having to rush on a Sunday morning. The newspaper was, remarkably, already in the driveway and they settled down with a pot of rather black coffee at their kitchen table. After they’d built up an appetite, Wyatt cooked a breakfast to rival even Meadow’s. By the time Beatrice had eaten it all, she felt as though she could conceivably go back to bed.
“The problem now is that my tummy is so full that I’m sleepy. Why couldn’t I have been sleepy at 4:30 this morning when the rest of the town was sleeping?” asked Beatrice.
Wyatt was already in his suit and carefully tying his tie in front of a mirror in the living room. “Hopefully my sermon will be riveting enough to keep you awake,” he said teasingly. “If the minister’s wife can’t keep from nodding off, there’s no hope for the rest of the congregation.”
Beatrice said, “At this point, I’m worried that even if the service consists of a brass horn section blasting at full volume, it may not keep me awake.”
Fortunately, she was able to shake it off and Wyatt’s sermon, as usual, was thoughtful—and thinking helped keep her from nodding off, too. Then she rallied for the retirement home visit and lunch.
It was around two p.m. when Beatrice and Wyatt returned to the cottage to see Noo-noo’s grinning face in the front window.
“Do you think she’s there the whole time we’re gone?” asked Wyatt. “Poor little girl.”
“I think she just likes the window,” said Beatrice. “She can watch the street and make sure there are no intruders. Plus, she’s fond of barking at the doves and there have been quite a few at the flat feeder lately.”
Wyatt nodded and yawned. “Should I give her a quick walk before we take that nap? She might have been asleep the whole time and ready to stretch her legs.”
“It wouldn’t hurt,” said Beatrice. “But don’t worry about making it a long one. I can take her out after supper tonight for another walk.” She snapped her fingers. “I know what I keep forgetting to tell you. Piper and Ash are planning on moving back to Dappled Hills.”
Wyatt put down his fork. “Oh, good! That’s great news. I had the feeling that with her teaching and the commute home that she wasn’t able to see as much of you.”
Beatrice said, “It is great news.”
Wyatt tilted his head to one side. “Then why do you sound like you’re worried.”
“It’s probably nothing. It’s just that I was concerned that maybe I was the reason that she and Ash were moving back to Dappled Hills. You know, all that silly stuff with my tumble,” said Beatrice, waving her hands in a dismissive gesture at the thought of falling.
Wyatt nodded thoughtfully. “You’re worried that she feels like
she needs to be close to take care of you.”
“I suppose. Like I said, it’s probably nothing. But I’d hate to think that they’re rearranging their lives because of something trivial,” said Beatrice with a sigh.
“Well, first off, I’m sure that neither of them would think that spending more time with you is trivial. And second, did you ask Piper why they were interested in moving back here? Maybe Ash feels he’d like to spend more time with Meadow and Ramsay. It could be something completely different,” said Wyatt reasonable.
Beatrice said, “Well, none of us are getting any younger. I did ask Piper, and she answered that Ash preferred that he made the commute instead of Piper. That she’d be closer to the school. I don’t know, it just sounded a little like a lame excuse to me. I should probably just focus on the fact that she’s going to be back in Dappled Hills. It’s not as though she’s at the far reaches of the earth now. But it’s true that we saw much more of Piper when she lived right on the same street. Plus, I’d run into her around town, running errands, and we’d have an impromptu lunch or a coffee or something. I do miss that.”
“And now it will be even better because we’ll run into the both of them,” said Wyatt. “I wouldn’t worry over it—it sounds like it’s going to be amazing.”
Wyatt left with Noo-noo, whose short legs almost seemed to be skipping with delight. Beatrice picked up the biography of Calvin with a sigh. Maybe, if she sat in the most uncomfortable chair they had, she’d be able to make it through a few pages before dropping off to sleep.
She was midway through the first page when the phone rang. Beatrice answered it and heard a grumble on the other end. “Miss Sissy? Is that you?”
“Want to talk to Wyatt,” said Miss Sissy, with no preamble.
“He’s walking Noo-noo right now. He should be back any second. Can I get him to call you when he comes back in?”
“Just tell him to come over,” snapped Miss Sissy and then Beatrice heard a click as she hung up.
Although Beatrice was getting used to a lot of the demands of being a minister’s wife, dealing with Miss Sissy on a more-regular basis than she had as a single woman was definitely an adjustment. Wyatt was sort of a security blanket for the old woman and whenever she had any sort of problems, from a burned-out lightbulb in a ceiling fixture to just wanting to talk with someone. Even though it was sometimes exasperating for Beatrice, she was glad that Miss Sissy had someone like Wyatt to turn to. Beatrice had learned since moving here that the old woman could also have a softer and warmer side.
On Pins and Needles Page 9