Minutes later, Wyatt and a happy, panting Noo-noo came back into the house.
“Naptime,” said Wyatt with a smile.
Beatrice winced at him. “I’m afraid not. At least, not yet. Miss Sissy called and asked for you to go over there.”
Wyatt frowned. “Uh-oh. Any indication why?”
“None. She was even more abrupt than she usually is. And you know how she is normally,” said Beatrice with a sigh.
“Do you think this could be the kind of visit where I listen to her and we pray? Or the type of visit where I need to take my toolbox?” asked Wyatt. Then he shook his head quickly, “Never mind, of course you wouldn’t know. I’ll just walk over there really quick with a toolbox and a Bible. That should cover anything.” He gave her a grin.
“You’re a better person than I am,” said Beatrice, reaching out to give him a quick kiss. “Good luck.”
Beatrice had every intention of staying awake until Wyatt came back home, but nodded off while reading the book, even while sitting in the uncomfortable wooden chair. She jumped when the front door opened again and blinked at the clock. “You’ve been over there for a couple of hours! What was wrong?”
Wyatt shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not certain. I could tell that something was wrong, for sure. But she didn’t need to have anything repaired or replaced. She didn’t, really, even want to talk. Something was definitely bothering her, but she was being very careful not to tell me. At any rate, she seemed relieved when I arrived and then smiled at me during the visit, so that was a good sign. Maybe we should check on her again tomorrow.”
“Good idea. Maybe there’s something wrong that she doesn’t really want to talk about,” said Beatrice. “Or maybe she doesn’t feel well and is one of those folks who doesn’t like going to the doctor.”
“That could be. Even more reason to check in on her.” He smiled at her. “Did you get a good nap in?”
“Well, it was an accidental one,” said Beatrice dryly. “I was planning on staying up until you came back. But I fell asleep in this chair and now I have a crick in my neck.”
“And it’s too close to bedtime for me to take a nap, myself, now,” said Wyatt ruefully. “I’ll just turn in early tonight.”
The next morning, they arose at a more normal time. When Wyatt came home for lunch, Beatrice suddenly remembered that although she was very well aware that it was a special guild meeting, she couldn’t remember why it was special.
As they were getting ready, Wyatt asked, “Is there a speaker at the meeting today?”
Beatrice frowned. “This isn’t like me, but I can’t for the life of me remember what is special about the meeting today except for the fact that it’s at the Patchwork Cottage. It could be that we have a speaker. But it could be that I was supposed to do something to prepare for this meeting. And I haven’t done anything.”
Wyatt said, “Are you supposed to bring what you’re working on now?”
“I don’t think so. We frequently do that, so it wouldn’t necessarily qualify as special. Oh, now it’s going to bother me. I’ll text someone and ask,” said Beatrice, pulling out her phone.
“Meadow?” asked Wyatt as he absently looked around for his computer.
“No, Meadow will fuss too much that I didn’t remember the Special Thing. And I don’t want to bother Georgia since she’s having such a tough time. And Posy will be busy setting up for everybody. I’ll ask Savannah. Bless her, she doesn’t seem to be having very much to do these days.”
Savannah texted promptly back and Beatrice frowned. “A brown bag challenge. Not that I have any idea what that is.”
Wyatt said, “It sounds like you bring your lunch in a brown paper bag.”
Beatrice grinned at him. “No, I don’t think that’s it. Part of the fun at the guild meetings is eating, and the eating is definitely not the kind of stuff that goes into brown paper bags. Oh good, Savannah’s actually offering some sort of explanation.” She peered at her phone. “Apparently we put some fabric in a brown paper bag and someone else gets it.”
Wyatt, who found his computer, gave Beatrice a light kiss and headed for the door. “That still sounds confusing to me. Hope you can figure it all out.”
Beatrice sighed. “I guess I’ll just put the fabric in and find out later. At least I wasn’t supposed to prepare any more than that or else I’d really be in a jam. Oh, and I’ll check in with Miss Sissy and see if she wants a ride to the Patchwork Cottage. At least I can keep her off the roads that way since she’s such a holy terror in the car.”
Miss Sissy looked displeased at seeing Beatrice at her door.
“Miss Sissy, I thought I’d give you a ride over to the shop,” said Beatrice in as pleasant a voice as she could muster. “Besides, maybe you can tell me more about the brown paper bag project.”
Miss Sissy gave a deep sigh as if her problems were legion and then she picked up her own brown paper bag and motioned for them to head to the car.
Apparently, Miss Sissy was determined to maintain a code of silence throughout the short drive. Beatrice finally decided to break the silence. She gave the old woman a smile and said, “Take a look in my bag and see what you think.”
Miss Sissy gave her a scandalized look. “Not allowed,” she growled.
“Oh, so the material is supposed to be a secret,” said Beatrice. “Got it. It’s taking me a while to catch on.”
Miss Sissy snorted in agreement.
When Beatrice arrived at the guild meeting, she was glad that she hadn’t eaten lunch before she arrived. Posy had put out mini grilled cheese sandwiches, chicken salad roll-up wraps, and devilled eggs. As Beatrice had told Wyatt, food was an integral part of the Village Quilters’ meetings. Beatrice had fully expected Miss Sissy to pounce on the food and was concerned when the old woman made herself a small plate and picked halfheartedly at it.
They all visited at the start of the meeting and while they ate. Posy had to jump up a few times to help customers although she had an employee there to check folks out. Sometimes, for the quilters, only Posy would do. And Posy always delivered with a smile or a tip for approaching a project. Plus, Posy knew where all the newest fabrics were and could point them out in seconds.
Georgia arrived in a rush about fifteen minutes late, looking a bit frazzled. Savannah clicked her tongue and said to Beatrice, “She’s trying to do too much.”
Beatrice said, “At least she made it. Georgia probably had to wrap up things at the school after the students were dismissed and before she came here.”
Savannah said fervently, “I wish that I could help her out. She always has so much work to do. She’s let me do a little grading from time to time, but there’s only so much of that I can do. She’ll only have me work on the kind of grading that has an answer key. If there’s anything subjective, she feels like she needs to do it herself.”
Beatrice tilted her head to one side, thoughtfully. “You’re good to help her where you can and I know she appreciates it. But you’ve reminded me of something. When I was at the festival, Wyatt and I were talking to June Bug and she was talking about how totally buried she was in work.”
Savannah looked at her uncomprehendingly at the change in topic.
“And then you were telling me that you have a lot of extra time on your hands—that Georgia and Edgenora have been busy at work while you’ve had your hours cut back at the office. Do you think you might possibly be interested in helping June Bug out at the bakery?”
Savannah frowned. “I don’t really cook. Or bake.”
“Actually, you’d be perfect for what she’s looking for. She needs help on the cash register and taking phone orders and cleaning off tables. She needs somebody to do everything else while she is in the kitchen baking. Katy helps out when she can, but June Bug said that she’s been making friends and she feels bad about having her work too hard after a full day of school,” said Beatrice.
Savannah considered this seriously for a few moments while Beatric
e ate some more of her chicken salad roll-up. Then Savannah broke into a crooked grin. “I’m good at accounting. The cash register thing might work out.”
Beatrice had completely warmed to her subject now. “And not only that, but think of all the people you’ll see and talk with. The whole town goes by the bakery. It should be a lot of fun.”
Savannah beamed at the idea and Beatrice smiled back at her. Beatrice said, “It looks like June Bug isn’t able to make it to the meeting today, but you could go by there afterwards. I think she’d be so relieved.”
“Thanks. I’ll ask her,” said Savannah.
Edgenora came up to ask Savannah something and Beatrice made her way over to Georgia. Meadow, who had also noticed Georgia’s arrival, did the same.
Georgia flushed. “Sorry I’m running behind. I know I told you that I wasn’t going to be able to make it, but I wanted to come enough to squeeze it in. I wanted to take care of some grading at school before I left. But I especially wanted to make the meeting since I’m not sure if I’ll be able to come to one for a while . . . if I end up getting a second job.”
Meadow said to Beatrice, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Beatrice, never one to try to guess what might be on Meadow’s mind, shook her head.
Meadow held up her hands, showing off her nail color. “Clearly, this isn’t going to be a solution to the problems you’re facing right now. But the fact is that you need a break. I know you don’t have a lot of time, but Beatrice and I were saying how relaxed and rejuvenated we felt after we got our nails done at Trixie’s shop.”
Georgia looked at Beatrice with interest. “You went too?”
Beatrice nodded. “As unlikely as that sounds, I did. I have to admit that Trixie did a great job.”
Meadow said, “And the other girl who works there is good, too. Anyway, I’ve been trying to think of ways to help you out and I would like to gift you the manicure.”
Beatrice said, scrabbling in her purse, “Put me down for half.”
Georgia’s eyes started tearing up, alarming Beatrice, as she took their cash. But she just said, “Thank you. That sounds amazing.”
Meadow gave her a hug. “Sometimes we just have to take the time to do something just for ourselves.”
Beatrice nodded. “I always forced myself to take some kind of break even when things were crazy in Atlanta. If you don’t, it’s going to catch up with you.”
Georgia gave them a grateful look. “I’m going to look forward to my break.”
Their conversation was interrupted by Posy, gently trying to herd her quilters into the back room where their program was to be conducted. Everyone sat down, still holding their brown paper bags. Beatrice looked curiously at Miss Sissy, who usually would continue to eat throughout the meeting. Miss Sissy glared back at her.
After some guild business was discussed and future events mentioned, Posy said with her eyes sparkling, “Now it’s time for the brown bags! If you take a bag, please make sure you have the time to complete the project by Christmas. But don’t feel as though you need to take one if you’re not sure you have time.” This with a concerned look at Georgia.
Beatrice raised her hand and said wryly, “At the risk of sounding like I haven’t been paying attention, could you explain what the brown bag challenge actually is?”
Miss Sissy, who had finally left the refreshment table, glared at her and muttered under her breath. Whatever it was, Beatrice was sure it wasn’t complimentary.
Posy covered her mouth with one hand. “Oops! Sorry, I should have explained that.”
Miss Sissy growled, “Everybody else knows it.”
Posy continued, “Whoever wants to participate will draw a bag. Each bag has a number on it and every number corresponds to the quilter who filled the bag. I keep note of who has whose bag. Whoever participates must make something with the fabric inside before our Christmas party deadline. Then the project goes back to the original quilter who put the fabric in the bag.”
Meadow said, “It’s like a gift for the quilter who filled the bag.”
Savannah added with a sigh, “And there really aren’t any other rules.”
“Which is tough for someone like Savannah who likes more structure,” said her sister, giving Savannah a small hug.”
Posy said, “You could use the fabric for any number of things. It could be a lap blanket, or a pillow, or a Christmas stocking, or whatever you like.”
Beatrice said, “What if there isn’t enough fabric to make what we want to make?”
“That sounds ambitious,” said Meadow with a grin.
Posy said, “You can add fabric to it, but you have to use at least some of the fabric in the project.”
Beatrice said, “Sounds like a real creative challenge.”
Meadow said, “And it’s fun. So let’s all draw.”
Everyone ended up exchanging bags, even Georgia. But Beatrice knew that Georgia worked so quickly that she could come up with something great even if she didn’t have enough time. When Georgia had had more time, she’d loved to make pet clothing out of spare fabric.
Meadow was eating a few more snacks when her phone rang. She frowned and stepped to the far end of the shop so that she could hear the conversation. A few minutes later she came back and pulled Beatrice away.
“What’s wrong?” asked Beatrice in a low voice.
“It’s Devlin Wilson,” said Meadow, an angry flush starting up from her neck. “He’s dead!”
Chapter Nine
MOMENTS LATER MEADOW and Beatrice were heading to their respective cars in the Patchwork Cottage parking lot. Beatrice had quietly asked Posy if she could take Miss Sissy back home for her. They didn’t say a word to anyone else on the way out and no one noticed that they were slipping out since the meeting was in the process of ending, anyway.
Beatrice said, “Ramsay may not want us to be anywhere around his crime scene, you know.”
Meadow sniffed. “If he knows what’s good for him, he’ll let us be in the area. I want you to find out exactly what’s going on here before things get even worse! Besides, he did call me.”
“To let you know that he wouldn’t be home for dinner,” said Beatrice in a dry voice. “That’s hardly the same thing as inviting you to come out to interfere with a murder investigation.”
“Regardless, we’re going,” said Meadow, slamming her car door with determination.
Soon they were pulling in at the curb on the street that Devlin Wilson had lived on. A street that was now full of emergency vehicles.
Beatrice and Meadow got out of their cars and watched silently as the police, in their forensic gear, appeared to be hovering around one particular area of Devlin’s yard.
Meadow said, “Look, there’s Goldie,”
Goldie Parson had already spotted them and was heading over. When she reached them, Beatrice could see that her eyes were red from crying and her blonde ponytail was mussed. She wordlessly gave them hugs and held back her sobs.
Beatrice asked softly, “What on earth happened, Goldie?”
She blinked hard, swallowed, and then said, “I was on my way to visit with him. Devlin. You know, about the downtown initiative, since his office is down there. He hadn’t been in the office this afternoon, and I was passing by here anyway, so I thought I’d drop by his house. I was ringing his doorbell, and he wasn’t coming, even though his car was in the driveway. I thought that was sort of odd. I knocked at the door and he didn’t come. Then I happened to glance over in the side yard.” She bobbed her head to indicate the spot where the police were gathered.
Meadow’s eyes were huge. “And you saw him?”
Goldie nodded. “I guess I had been so focused on what I was going to tell him that I didn’t even notice.” She shivered.
Beatrice asked, “What had happened to him?”
Goldie said, “Well, you know he’s been working on that massive yard project of his for weeks now.”
Beatrice nodded. “
Yes, he’d told me about it. Said it was sort of like therapy for him—to go outside and do yardwork.”
Goldie said, “He has all of these big stones in his yard that he’s using for garden pavers. At first when I saw him, it almost looked like he was taking a nap in his yard. He was crumpled, but I thought he looked kind of curled up like you do when you nap. It looked like he was wearing earbuds to listen to music, even. I went over there and I was going to tease him about taking an afternoon siesta in his yard.”
Meadow said breathlessly, “But when you got closer, you could tell he was dead.”
Goldie nodded wordlessly.
Beatrice said, “It sounds as if you’ve been out all morning. Was there anything that you noticed, anything that didn’t seem right? Perhaps someone leaving this street?”
Goldie sighed. “I’m just super-frustrated with myself right now. After all, I’m the person who was so unobservant that I didn’t even see a body in the yard when I walked up the walkway!”
Beatrice noticed that she didn’t look at her though. Beatrice said slowly, “Are you sure? Even if you saw something that seems to be totally unimportant, maybe it plays a part in what happened here today.”
Goldie took a deep breath and looked back up at Beatrice. “I did see someone leaving Devlin’s property. But I’m sure it had nothing to do with this. He was probably here the same as I was—with some sort of business.”
“He?” asked Meadow.
“Arnold,” said Goldie in a reluctant tone. “I saw Arnold Tremont leaving as I was coming in.”
“Leaving the street or leaving the property?” asked Beatrice.
On Pins and Needles Page 10