Patch of Trouble, page 5
part #6 of Southern Quilting Mystery Series
Chapter Four
The cell phone store took less time than Beatrice had feared. Beatrice had thought that maybe the cell phone people wouldn’t understand what kind of phone she was talking about since they dealt with such advanced technology all the time. But they quickly found what they called a “basic phone” and she left in mere minutes.
That afternoon, Beatrice pulled weeds near her mailbox. Noo-noo chased squirrels enthusiastically for several minutes before settling down in a sunbeam in the driveway. A few minutes later, a small car carefully pulled in next to Noo-noo and Beatrice’s daughter, Piper, stepped out.
“Hi Mama,” she said cheerfully, giving Beatrice a warm hug. “The yard is looking great!”
So was Piper, although Beatrice thought that was always the case. Her dark hair, previously in a pixie cut, was now growing out and brushed across her shoulders as she walked. She wore jeans and a black V-neck cotton top that made the most of her slim figure.
“I brought a present for Noo-noo,” she said, reaching into her purse. Noo-noo cocked her head to one side, listening intently as soon as she heard her name. Piper pulled out a red bandanna that featured brown dog treats scattered over the cloth. Noo-noo’s name was embroidered on the material.
“I love it,” declared Beatrice, watching as Piper gently put the bandanna around Noo-noo’s neck. I’m guessing that’s Georgia’s handiwork?”
Georgia lived with her sister, Savannah, and was a teacher like Piper. She’d started an online business supplying cute dog and cat accessories. Beatrice had heard that she was doing quite well at it.
Piper said, “She did. Although I can’t figure out how she makes the time. She’s teaching and spending time with Tony now.”
“She probably doesn’t have a spare minute. Speaking of spare minutes, can you spare a few? I know how busy you are, too. But I’m now looking for an excuse to get out of the dirt for a little bit,” said Beatrice, leaning back on her heels.
Piper gave her a hand up. “I’d love to visit.”
Noo-noo trotted in behind them and Beatrice discovered the little dog wasn’t nearly as muddy as Beatrice herself was. She sighed and took off her tennis shoes as she realized she was tracking mud in. She nearly suggested coffee, but knew that Piper would almost certainly try to help her make it. And Piper’s coffee, which had an unfortunate resemblance to weak tea, was ghastly.
“Milk and cookies?” asked Beatrice cheerfully.
“Oh, why not?” said Piper lightly as she sat on the floor to pet Noo-noo, who wriggled with excitement at the attention. Piper picked up a tennis ball, showed it to the intent corgi and then gave it a small toss. The corgi bounded joyfully after it before picking it up, running it back to Piper, and dropping it carefully back on the floor in front of her.
“Actually, since we were talking about how teachers have so little time ... well, I’ve sort of discovered that, too,” said Piper a few minutes later as she sat on her mother’s overstuffed gingham armchair, reaching an arm down to pat Noo-noo, who was still hopeful there might be more time to play ball later on.
“Oh?” asked Beatrice. She had a feeling she knew where this might be headed. Piper and Meadow’s son, Ash, had been seeing each other for a while now. In fact, Ash had moved all the way from California to live closer to Piper. But he still lived a good thirty minute drive away. Hardly an insurmountable distance, but when you had a very busy schedule, it certainly made a difference.
“Between my teaching, Ash’s teaching, his office hours, and my tutoring after school, I feel like I’ve hardly had a chance to see him,” said Piper. She shrugged a shoulder as if to downplay her words, but her face was worried. “It’s almost like every time our relationship takes a step forward, it takes two steps back.”
Beatrice nodded slowly. She pressed her lips together to keep any heedless words from popping out. She’d found over the years that she had a tendency to try to fix everyone’s problems. It was tough for her to listen to a friend or family member’s problem without trying to leap into action to uncover a solution. Sometimes, she knew, people wanted her simply to listen to them.
Piper continued, “It’s meant that we’ve seemed very distant, very disconnected from each other. And I’m just not sure how to grow closer. I don’t want to move closer to Harrington College. And it’s not as if I can quit my job. I depend on it and I enjoy it, too.”
Beatrice nodded again, waiting to see if Piper were done speaking. She said quietly, “That’s very hard. I know that you love spending time with Ash when you can. And you’re right—it’s easy for a sort of distance or wall to spring up when we don’t have that regular contact.” She hesitated. “Wyatt and I have faced some similar challenges. He is so busy with his work at the church. It’s not as if I begrudge him that time.” She shrugged and then gave a crooked grin.
Piper laughed. “Except you do begrudge it! How could you not? It’s time spent away from you, even though it’s for a good cause. What have you done to make things better?”
“I’m still working on it. I guess it’s one of those things that will always be a work in progress. But, for me, the answer lies in doing more things at the church. I’ve been volunteering more over there, for one. And Meadow has finagled me into spending even more time over there with a quilting service project for children that Wyatt is organizing.”
Piper said, “Oh, that’s right. She mentioned it to me, too. I said I’d think about it.” A frown line grew between Piper’s brows.
Beatrice quickly added, “But see? That’s just it. You probably shouldn’t tell Meadow yes. You need to carve out more time for you and Ash. Adding to the amount of activities you’re doing, even for a good reason, won’t help the situation.” She pressed her lips together again, remembering that once again she was trying to help solve a problem instead of being a passive listener. And also realizing that she wasn’t doing a good job following her own advice. Maybe if she protected her free time better, she could spend more time with Wyatt going out to dinner or going on walks or having coffees.
“But if it helped you and your relationship out to actively seek out more time with Wyatt, it seems as if it would work well for me, too,” said Piper thoughtfully. “Although it’s a very worthwhile cause, maybe I can skip the meetings and just work on a quilt for a few minutes every night right before I go to bed. It’s one of the ways that I relax before I fall asleep anyway, and I don’t have a current project.”
Beatrice gave her a hug. “That’s very sweet of you.”
Piper said briskly, signaling that she was ready to change the topic of the conversation, “Now tell me what’s been going on with you. I know you’ve been up to all kinds of things since I saw you a few days ago.”
Beatrice said, “Well, it’s been unexpectedly busy, as a matter of fact. And in a very odd way.” She filled Piper in on Miss Sissy’s accident and hospitalization as well as the body that had been found between her cottage and the Downeys’ house. She took care not to make the account very alarming.
Piper stared at her with wide eyes. “Poor Miss Sissy! That must have scared her to death. And you say the man who died has a connection with Dappled Hills?”
Piper had a tendency to be protective of her mother, so Beatrice was careful to play it all down. And she decided not to inform her that she was investigating by means of the Dappled Hills quilting history. “His connection is apparently through his mother, somehow. She may have lived here a long time ago. But who knows how she ended up with Vivian’s journal? That seems very odd.” Beatrice made a mental note to ask Ramsay what he thought might be the reason behind it.
“I’m sure Ramsay will get to the bottom of it.” There was the slightest of emphasis on Ramsay. “Well, I hate to say it, but I should get going. I’ve got some papers to grade and then I’m supposed to go back to the school later to help at a bake sale they’re having,” said Piper.
“And maybe give Ash a call?” asked Beatrice.
Piper’s eyes twinkled. “Yes ma’am. I guess it’s my turn to call, anyway. What have you got for the rest of the day?”
Beatrice shut her eyes briefly. “I believe I’m going to head over to Miss Sissy’s and show her how to use her new phone, now that it’s charged up. That should be fun.”
Piper said quickly, “I can help you with that.”
“Oh no. No. You’re so far advanced with technology that you’d be enthusiastically showing her how all the little bells and whistles worked. No, it’s better for me to do it. I think I can get down to her level, technologically speaking, anyway. I’m only going to show her how to take and receive calls and how to take and receive text messages.”
“All right. Well, call me if you need back-up,” said Piper, giving her mother a quick, tight, hug.
Miss Sissy glared at her brand-new cell phone as if it were an instrument of the devil. “No!”
They were sitting in the dim light of Miss Sissy’s kitchen. The paint was peeling in chunks from the dilapidated, dusty, and cluttered table they were sitting at and Beatrice was very much afraid that she might fall through the fragile caning of the chair bottom. She sat as delicately as she could, holding the flip phone in front of her as Miss Sissy eyed it warily.
“Miss Sissy, remember we talked about this? At the hospital? The doctor was worried about you having an accident, whether it was here at home or away in the car.” Beatrice gave a small, involuntary shudder at the word car. “This way you can feel free to come and go as you like without having to worry about not having someone to help you if you run into any trouble.”
Miss Sissy glared furiously at the device.
Beatrice took a deep breath for the sake of her patience and showed her how to make calls on it. Miss Sissy, who had apparently reverted to her teen years, rolled her eyes through the explanation.
Beatrice said tightly, “Okay, so it seems as if you know how to make phone calls on a cell phone. Let me show you how to send text messages.”
This time Miss Sissy appeared more engaged in the process. Her beady eyes gleamed as Beatrice pulled up a list of contacts that Beatrice had added to the phone and demonstrated how to send and receive a text message. Beatrice followed up by making Miss Sissy engage in a texting conversation with her until the old woman fully caught on.
Beatrice had just finished up when there was a tap at Miss Sissy’s door. The old woman responded by drawing back in alarm. Beatrice frowned. “Maybe we need to update your locks, just to help you feel more secure.”
She rose cautiously from the fragile wooden chair and walked to the door, peering out a small window that looked out on Miss Sissy’s front porch. She smiled and waved at the figures there and turned to say, “Miss Sissy, it’s Savannah and Georgia, here to visit with you! And it looks as if Savannah brought a furry friend.”
Miss Sissy beamed at the prospect of having visitors and immediately hopped over to a small, smudged mirror to try to fix her hair, which rather resembled a squirrel’s nest in appearance.
Beatrice opened the door to the two women. The sisters couldn’t be more different, although they shared a love of quilting and of the Village Quilters. Georgia was soft, pretty, and crafty. She taught with Piper at the same local school and loved setting up and supplying her own online pet boutique. Savannah, on the other hand, was a lot more uptight in appearance and demeanor. She wore her thin hair pulled up in a bun and high necked floral dresses. Beatrice had found that, although Savannah could seem very prickly, she also had a warm heart. And nowhere was her warm heart more evident than in her love for animals.
Georgia took a seat gingerly on one of Miss Sissy’s living room chairs. The chair, like the one in the kitchen, desperately needed re-caning and Georgia was trying her best not to end up on the floor. Savannah decided to take a shortcut and just go ahead and sit on the dusty wood floor. Besides, it made it easier for her to take Smoke out of his cat carrier.
“Miss Sissy, we were sorry to hear about your accident. I thought that a visit from Smoke might help raise your spirits,” said Savannah gruffly. She opened the door to the carrier and the deliciously fuzzy Smoke came prancing out, preening as if he knew he was going to be admired. Georgia had obviously been outfitting him for Savannah, and he wore an adorable green polka dot bow tie. The little gray cat with the beautiful green eyes glanced around him quickly before spotting Miss Sissy. As soon as he saw the old woman, he padded over to rub against her legs. She gave a delighted exclamation and plopped down in a low chair to give Smoke a lap to sit on. “So cute,” she muttered.
“Are you feeling better now, Miss Sissy?” asked Georgia politely.
But Miss Sissy apparently couldn’t be less interested in regaling them about her health. She was way too absorbed in the cat. She pulled a piece of string from the unraveling nearby sofa upholstery and moved the string around as Smoke hopped off her lap to play intently with it.
Savannah, who was usually fiercely protective over her little pet, seemed more relaxed today and also genuinely concerned about the old woman. She and her sister both looked to Beatrice for more information.
Beatrice cleared her throat. “Yes. Well, as you can see, Miss Sissy is fortunately much better. I think the worst part was the scare of it.” She looked toward the old woman but she was blissfully playing with Smoke with a pencil she’d grabbed from a nearby table when the little cat had tired of the string.
“The scare?” asked Georgia.
“Miss Sissy got hurt from chasing away a man who she thought meant her some harm,” explained Beatrice. She hesitated for a minute before continuing, “And then Meadow and I discovered him dead later on.”
Savannah stared at her and Georgia gasped. Miss Sissy, oblivious, laughed as Smoke pounced on the pencil as seriously as if it had been its prey.
“What did this man look like?” asked Savannah curiously. She tilted her long neck inquiringly, giving herself a birdlike appearance.
Beatrice thought for a minute. It was hard to get much of an impression when he was dead. She instead thought about his outfit, which did make him stand out. “Well, he was wearing quite a bit of clothing, considering the weather. It made me wonder if he’d come from a place with a colder climate.”
Savannah squinted at her. “Did he look like he was going on a safari?”
Georgia nodded. “I remember that guy! We were biking down the street and saw this man we didn’t recognize. That’s weird enough, but then we saw that he was really overdressed for the weather. He had a brimmed hat and a white shirt.”
Georgia paused and Beatrice jumped in, “And a khaki jacket.”
“Like he was going on a safari!” said Savannah emphatically.
Smoke thought his owner sounded agitated and padded over to rub against Savannah. She petted him, absently, until Miss Sissy clicked her tongue to call the little cat back up on her lap.
“Did you see what he was doing?” asked Beatrice.
“I certainly did,” said Savannah. “I thought maybe he was selling something. You know how that happens sometimes? There will be a salesman in town and he’ll make the rounds knocking on everyone’s door and driving us all crazy. Usually I make calls to everybody I know to let them know not to answer their door or to peek out first.”
Georgia smiled at her sister. “Savannah is the unofficial neighborhood watch president.”
“Someone has to be!” said Savannah hotly. “You know how you’ll open the door right up. And even buy something, Georgia!”
Georgia gave a low laugh. “I can’t help it. I feel sorry for them because I know it’s such a bad job to have. I couldn’t imagine slamming the door in their faces. And then they usually look so hot and discouraged and out of sorts that I end up giving them some lemonade. By the end of the visit, I’ve usually bought whatever it is they’re peddling. But like I said, it’s a bad job for them.”
“But it’s a bad job for us to have to deal with it! And then, who knows? The salesman might not even be a salesman at all. He might be a bad guy. That’s what Ramsay said that day, remember? He told us not to open the door,” reminded Savannah. “Said that sometimes bad guys will pose as salesmen or repairmen and they’re actually casing the joint!”
Beatrice coughed pointedly and the sisters turned to look at her again. “What I was wondering while thinking about this is why the safari man looked like a salesman to you, Savannah. What gave you that impression?”
“Because he was knocking on doors,” said Savannah simply. “When Georgia and I were biking out to the store, he was visiting Huey. Or trying to. He was knocking at Huey’s door, anyway. When we were biking back from the store, he was going inside Gwen’s house.”
Savannah and Georgia didn’t drive, but they didn’t have to in a town like Dappled Hills. Since they biked everywhere they went, they were definitely more likely than most to spot a stranger in town.
“So, if he wasn’t a salesman, what was he doing here?” asked Savannah sharply. “Up to no good apparently. Especially ending up dead like that.” Savannah made it sound as if he had really used poor judgment indeed.
“As a matter of fact, I think he may have been up to some good. At least, I think that maybe he was trying to right a wrong,” said Beatrice slowly.
Savannah sniffed.
Georgia said, “What sort of wrong? And why did he visit people we know to do it?”
Beatrice said, “Apparently, it’s all connected to someone who lived here a long time ago. He had a notebook belonging to someone named Vivian Hastings.”
The women both looked blankly at Beatrice.
“The name isn’t familiar to you at all?” asked Beatrice, disappointed.
Savannah and Georgia glanced at each other and then shook their heads.
Beatrice snapped her fingers. “Well, of course it isn’t. You must not have even been born. This happened forty years ago.”
Savannah and Georgia laughed. Georgia said, “Then I feel better about not being able to offer any help or information. I was wracking my brain trying to figure out how I could have forgotten anyone who lived in Dappled Hills!”
