Quilt complex, p.1
Quilt Complex, page 1
Quilt Complex
A Southern Quilting Mystery, Volume 19
Elizabeth Craig
Published by Elizabeth Spann Craig, 2023.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
QUILT COMPLEX
First edition. September 26, 2023.
Copyright © 2023 Elizabeth Craig.
ISBN: 978-1955395281
Written by Elizabeth Craig.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
About the Author
This and That
Other Works by Elizabeth
Chapter One
As soon as she took that last bite of sausage and egg breakfast casserole, Beatrice let out a satisfied sigh. Then a yawn. She said ruefully to her friend and neighbor Meadow, “I can’t believe I ate an entire plate of food. I’d already had breakfast before I even came over here.”
Meadow looked skeptical of that. “A real breakfast? Or one of those so-called breakfasts?”
Meadow staunchly believed that breakfast was the biggest meal of the day. She could feed an army with what she cooked for herself and Ramsay every morning. Blueberry muffins, fluffy pancakes, egg and tomato scrambles, and buttery grits were frequent staples on her table.
“A perfectly acceptable breakfast of cereal and a banana,” said Beatrice, just a touch defensively.
Meadow snorted. “That’s not enough to feed a mouse. Now you’ve had a big meal and are equipped to take on your day.”
Beatrice yawned again. “I’m equipped to take on a nap, you mean. I feel like going home and crawling back into my bed.”
Meadow’s reaction to this was to refill Beatrice’s coffee mug. “None of that! You’ve got to help me make plans for the reception. I’m depending on you.”
A tired voice came from behind them. “I’m depending on you, Beatrice. So I won’t have to be the one the ideas are endlessly bouncing off of.”
They turned to smile at Meadow’s husband, Ramsay. He was a balding man with kind eyes and a stomach that had seen lots of Meadow’s good cooking. As the chief of police in Dappled Hills, he was in uniform and looked ready to head out to the station.
Meadow hopped up out of her chair. “Want a muffin for the road?” She gave Ramsay a peck on the cheek.
He gave her a bemused kiss in return. “A muffin? No, no. I’ll be like Beatrice . . . in a food coma.”
Beatrice chuckled. “Do I look that bad?”
“Not bad at all. Just not particularly alert,” said Ramsay. “Which, for police chiefs, is not necessarily a great state to be in at work.”
He grabbed a couple of books from the counter, along with a small notebook and a pen, and then waved goodbye and hurried off, presumably before more wedding talk commenced.
Beatrice couldn’t blame him. Wedding planning wasn’t exactly her forte. She’d planned and executed tons of fundraiser dinners when she’d been an art museum curator, but a wedding was an entirely different kettle of fish. She considered reminding Meadow of this, but Meadow was already launching into her planning.
“So, tell me what you think of this. I’m thinking about candles in mason jars. Won’t that be a pretty touch? Or will it be too much, seeing as how the reception is already in a barn? Should I try to plan something swankier?”
Beatrice shook her head. “Swanky doesn’t sound like what Tiggy and Dan are looking for.”
Tiggy was a fellow quilter in their quilt guild and the aunt of their good friends Savannah and Georgia. Dan was the local handyman and Tiggy’s late-in-life romance. They’d shyly accepted Meadow’s offer to host their wedding reception at the renovated barn where she and Ramsay lived.
“The problem with mason jars and candles,” said Beatrice, “is the fact it’s a liability with Boris around.”
Boris, Meadow’s huge, sweet, but oafish dog, gazed lovingly at Beatrice and at the scraps of food on her plate and grinned at her in agreement.
Meadow beamed at Boris. “He’s been so very good lately! I’ve only caught him eating food off the counters twice in the last week.”
Cammie, Meadow’s tiny dog, gave Boris a disapproving look. Boris turned his doggy grin on Cammie, tongue lolling out.
Beatrice thought of her extremely well-behaved corgi back at her house. Noo-noo wouldn’t dream of trying to grab food off the counters. Naturally, she was extremely short, but even if she had long legs, she wouldn’t do it. There was such a thing as manners and Noo-noo understood that very well.
“I think mason jar candles might be a fire risk around Boris,” said Beatrice, shaking her head. “And I have the feeling Ramsay will think the same thing.”
Meadow nodded slowly. “I suppose you’re right. Ramsay can be such a party pooper. But we wouldn’t want to ruin the wedding reception with a fire.”
“Or your home,” said Beatrice wryly.
“No. But that last time I kept Boris in the guest bedroom with a Kong worked out really well. Perhaps I should do that again. He wasn’t destructive at all in there.”
Beatrice said, “In that case, I think the candle-filled mason jars will work out beautifully. But I remember Dan and Tiggy saying they wanted everything kept very simple. I wouldn’t go overboard with the planning.”
Meadow waved her hand dismissively. “They’re only saying that because they don’t want me to go to any trouble. They’re both very sweet. But you know I live for this sort of thing. I do love to give a big party.” She sighed. “And Ramsay and I had a very sweet wedding, but it wasn’t anything much to plan. I loved helping with Ash and Piper’s wedding. And yours! Now we have Tiggy and Dan’s. Anyway, the point is that they hate the idea of me putting in a lot of time. But it’s my pleasure.”
Beatrice shook her head uneasily. “I’m not so sure. Sometimes people say exactly what they mean. Plus, they wouldn’t want you to go to much expense. I believe they mentioned being on a budget.”
“Precisely why I’m doing the catering for them! I’ll cook and they only have to pay me for the groceries. The barn is free for them to use. I have a million mason jars left over from all my canning activities. We’re running completely to budget. My only wish is that it wasn’t such a rushed affair. If I had more time to plan it, I could come up with something spectacular.”
Beatrice had the feeling that Tiggy and Dan had made it rushed for that very reason. They didn’t want something spectacular. With less time for Meadow to plan, they’d end up with the simple, small, wedding they were looking for. Plus, there was another reason, too.
“Another reason to keep things simple is because Dan is about to have the surgery for his Atrial Fibrillation. I understand it can be a little tricky. They wanted to tie the knot before he had his procedure.”
Meadow nodded sadly. “You’re right. I shouldn’t complain. Poor Dan. I hope they’re able to get his heart back to working properly. What’s the procedure called again?”
“Ablation. I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s supposedly got a wonderful cardiologist helping him out.”
“Good. I’ve truly been thinking about Dan a lot. The whole wedding thing has just gotten me sidetracked lately. Maybe I need to bring some food over to him. Or to Tiggy. Or both of them.” Meadow now looked as though she was doubling down with her determination to be helpful.
Beatrice said, “Well, it might not be a terrible idea to bring something to Dan. You know what a health nut Tiggy is. She’s likely been keeping him on a diet of sprouts and greens. He’s probably on a special diet, though, so maybe you could keep in the guidelines for that.”
“I can cook extremely healthy things. And still make them taste good.”
“I know you can,” said Beatrice. “At any rate, you’ll do a far better job than poor Tiggy. She means well, though.”
Meadow looked thoughtful. “Of course, we’re going to see Tiggy at the Patchwork Cottage in just a few hours. I can ask her then about Dan’s diet.” She clapped her hands together, startling little Cammie, who glared at her. Boris just lolled his tongue out, grinning at his mother. “I nearly forgot about our class this morning! Heavens. I was just going to spend the rest of the day looking at wedding websites and trolling for ideas.”
“Are the Cut-Ups going to be at the class? Or is it just supposed to be for the Village Quilters?”
Meadow said, “Posy opened it up to everybody, but we’re going to have some Village Quilters business to attend to after the class. Nothing much, though, because we don’t want to bore the Cut-Ups.”
Beatrice stood up and put her plate into Meadow’s dishwasher. Boris gave her a reproachful look for not handing it over to him to clean up. “I should be getting along. Thanks so much for the breakfast.”
“Thanks for coming over and being a sounding board for me,” said Meadow. “See you in a few hours.”
Later that morning, Beatrice parked behind the Patchwork Cottage quilt shop and headed into the building. She always loved being there. Posy had music from local musicians playing in the background, sunbeams coming through every window, and a comfortable sitting area with a sweet shop kitty to cuddle with.
Posy’s programs were in the back room of the shop, which was more of a bare bones area. Posy had decorated a bit for the class, though, with quilts hanging everywhere and a table full of snacks. From the number of tables and chairs she’d set out, it looked as if she was expecting high attendance.
Posy smiled at Beatrice as she came in. “So glad you could make it,” she said, giving her a hug. “I was excited that I could schedule our speaker today. It sounded like she gets pretty booked up.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” said Beatrice. “I love the idea of mixed media for quilting.”
Posy beamed at her. “It’s the art curator in you.”
“Right. It’s also something completely different. I can’t wait to hear what she has to say about it. I brought my notebook so I could take a bunch of notes.”
Posy said, “Oh, the price of the program also covers a video of her going through it step-by-step. That way, you can watch it again at home when you have all your materials assembled.”
“That beats taking notes any day.”
One of the Cut-Ups came over and pulled Posy away to ask her advice about a project she was working on. Beatrice walked over to the food table to sample some goodies that Posy had prepared.
Miss Sissy, always ravenous, had been at the table for a while and was now carefully balancing a crustless pimento cheese sandwich on top of a very full plate.
“How are you, Miss Sissy?” asked Beatrice politely.
Miss Sissy snarled a reply. She always did seem fairly unapproachable when she was getting ready to eat. She looked wilder than usual, wearing a polka-dot dress with the hem falling out. To continue the unkempt theme, her iron-gray hair was coming out of her very loose bun. She had a fierce, combative look in her eyes, as if convinced one of the other ladies would steal food from her plate.
“How are you?” asked a voice behind Beatrice.
She turned to give her friend Georgia a hug. Georgia was smiling at her and looked relaxed.
“Doing well! How are you? Are you getting excited about the wedding?”
Georgia nodded. “It seems like everything is coming into place. I was so excited when Wyatt was available to officiate. And having the chapel available at the last minute was also a stroke of luck.”
Beatrice took a quick look around to make sure Tiggy wasn’t anywhere close. Oddly, she didn’t see her. Then, in a low voice, she asked, “Any luck on the wedding dress front?”
The last Beatrice had heard, Tiggy, an enthusiastic but terrible seamstress, had told everyone she was planning on making her own wedding dress. Judging by the horrid concoctions Tiggy had crafted in the past, Beatrice thought this was a very bad idea.
Georgia nodded, chuckling. “Yes, thank heavens. I convinced Tiggy that there wasn’t enough time for her to create her own dress, since the wedding is pretty last-minute. I also threw in the fact that she should be pampering herself and not worrying about working hard before the wedding. We’ve done a little shopping, but everything we’ve seen has been pretty expensive.”
“I bet.”
Georgia continued, “We’re going on a little shopping trip to Lenoir soon. There’s supposed to be a bridal outlet there, and I bet we’ll be able to find something pretty and simple for her.”
“She couldn’t make it to the class today?” asked Beatrice.
Georgia shook her head. “She said she had a couple of errands to run. They might even be errands for Dan. Tiggy’s been trying, pretty unsuccessfully, to keep Dan quiet until his procedure.”
“Did the doctor want him to take it easy?” asked Beatrice, frowning. “For some reason, I thought AFib patients were supposed to be more active.”
Georgia chuckled. “Bingo. Healthy eating, exercise, and good-quality sleep are the things the doctor prescribed. But Tiggy’s got her own way of looking after Dan.”
“Well, I’m sure she’s at least got his healthy eating covered,” said Beatrice dryly. Tiggy was quite fond of poorly cooked greens and Brussels sprouts the last she heard. Savannah had been hugely relieved when Tiggy moved out of her place and stopped trying to cook for her.
“You’ve got that right,” said Georgia. “Fortunately, Dan doesn’t seem to be that much into food, so he doesn’t mind. But the lack of activity is about to drive him up a wall.”
“Tiggy will let him work, though, won’t she? I know he’s in demand.”
Dan was one of those men who could do just about anything. For a while, he’d fallen out of favor locally, considered a suspect in a Dappled Hills murder. But once his name was cleared, he was as busy as ever. Unless Tiggy had put a wrench into the works, that was.
Georgia said, “Fortunately, Tiggy has come around to see that income flow is a good thing. But as soon as Dan is done painting a house or repairing an HVAC system, she’s got him putting his feet up while she clucks around him like a mama bird.”
“It sounds like she’ll make sure he recovers from his procedure in record time, considering she’s hovering so much!”
Georgia shrugged. “The way the doctors made it sound, Dan will be able to return to work after just a couple of days following the ablation. Whether Tiggy will allow that to happen remains to be seen, of course.”
“Got it. How are the rest of the wedding plans going? Meadow was talking about food and candles and other details this morning.” Beatrice paused. “How about the bridesmaids’ dresses for you and Savannah?”
Georgia grinned. “Fear not. She’s not making those, either.”
“Well, I know that’s a relief,” said Beatrice. “It’s nice not to have to stress about that.”
Still chatting, they filled their plates with food and headed over to the long tables holding sewing machines. A few minutes later, Posy started the meeting.
Chapter Two
The woman giving the program had clearly given a lot of workshops before. She was confident, her voice carried well to even the hardest hearing ears. Plus, she definitely knew her topic. She explained that the mixed media quilting was like another form of storytelling. You could take family keepsakes or relics and turn them into art. After machine quilting a base, the quilter could explore different ways of attaching the objects to the fabric, including pin weaving, grommets, and brads. After the speaker was finished, everyone gave her a round of applause.
The regular guild meeting followed, although it was shortened. Meadow spoke up for a few minutes about how she’d managed to organize her fabric stash. “At first, I was tearing my hair out over this stuff. Fabric everywhere, and it was all different sizes. I tried to sort them by size, but it was way too much work. I didn’t have the patience for it. I decided to make two different sizes. Everything would either be cut into five-inch squares or two and a half inch strips. Now it’s all a lot easier for me to know what I’ve got and actually use it. Sometimes I feel like all I do is buy fabric, and I have so much of it at home.”
This earned Meadow a round of applause, and she beamed at everyone and took a mock curtsy.
Posy made an announcement, reminding everyone to have sewing machine repairmen to check their machines for tension from time to time to make sure it wasn’t set too high or too low. She also encouraged the members to donate any quilting books they’d already read to the guild library. “And if you could, write a tiny review of the book. That way, we can put it in our newsletter and other members will get a good idea whether it might help them out or not.”
The meeting broke up and everyone started visiting with each other. Piper, Beatrice’s daughter, had come in a few minutes late and gave her mom a belated hug when the meeting wrapped up. She had Will with her and the little boy had sat quietly on the floor through the program, courtesy of a couple of toy trucks she’d brought with her.
Meadow, Piper’s mother-in-law, hurried over as soon as she spotted her.
“How’s the baby?” she asked breathlessly. “He was so good during the class that I couldn’t believe it.”
