Crosspatch, p.11
Crosspatch, page 11
Miss Sissy’s eyes grew misty as she looked at the dog. “Love.”
“She did really love her. I was startled when she pulled Cammie out of her purse at the quilt shop. Cammie looked at us all as if she thought she was the queen of England.”
Miss Sissy chuckled and relaxed a little bit.
Beatrice continued, “Wyatt said that Ramsay mentioned the police were looking for a foster home for Cammie until they found her a permanent place to live.”
“Here?” Miss Sissy frowned.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure Noo-noo would care for a more permanent arrangement. But we’ll keep Cammie for a while until we can find her a suitable home—one Sylvia would think was worthy of Cammie.”
Miss Sissy looked satisfied. She gave Cammie a gentle rub and then headed off to play cars with Will.
Beatrice watched the two of them together. She still, for the life of her, didn’t know how Miss Sissy was so easily able to get on and off the floor.
The rest of the afternoon was spent quietly. Beatrice cleaned the kitchen while Miss Sissy and Will played until Piper came by to pick Will up. At first, Beatrice wasn’t sure if the old woman was going to surrender Will that easily, but she apparently started thinking about her supper. She ended up scampering out the door to pull something together after giving Will a big hug.
Chapter Fourteen
The next morning, right after Wyatt had left for work, Meadow showed up at the door with Boris in tow.
“Good morning!” sang out Meadow as she wrestled Boris inside. “Just thought I’d try to speak with somebody about the case. Talking to Ramsay right now is like talking to a brick wall. I should just save my breath.”
Noo-noo gave an audible sigh as Boris, clearly in a very keyed-up mood, danced around the kitchen, clearly hoping treats of some kind might be in order. Then the big dog stopped short, staring in gape-mouthed wonder at Cammie.
The tiny dog gave him a stern look.
Meadow’s eyes were huge. “Cammie! I’d forgotten all about her.”
Cammie looked coldly at Meadow as if she’d expected as much.
Boris cautiously crept forward, wanting very much to say hello to the dog.
“Gracious. She’s so little that I’m worried about Boris being around her. He’s used to more robust play, you know.”
Beatrice did know. Boris’s idea of robust play often knocked things off of shelves and tabletops.
Beatrice said, “Why don’t you get a firm grip on his leash and let Boris meet Cammie?”
Cammie now shot Beatrice a cold look.
“Okay,” said Meadow. “Now Boris, you be good. Poor Cammie has had a horrible time of it.”
Boris inched forward, sticking his large nose out and then quickly retracting it in a turtle-like way as Cammie, sitting very still, watched.
Finally, Boris gave Cammie a tentative lick on the top of her head. Then he flopped down next to her and rolled over on his back.
Beatrice and Meadow stared at each other.
“He loves her,” said Meadow. “Look how good he’s being.”
Boris was indeed being good in a way Beatrice had only seen when he had a stuffed Kong toy. Cammie watched Boris imperiously before curling up next to him.
“Do you think she likes him?” asked Meadow, eyes wide.
It did indeed look that way. Cammie and Boris were soon snoring—Boris in a roof-rattling way and Cammie with gentle little puffs of air.
“She has a very calming effect on Boris,” said Meadow, the wheels turning in her mind. “I may have to talk with Ramsay about this.”
Beatrice couldn’t picture Ramsay wanting to devote much time to the calming effect of Cammie in the middle of a murder investigation.
Meadow said, “If Ramsay sees how quiet and peaceful Boris is around Cammie, he might want us to be her new owners. That is, if you’re not planning on keeping her?” Meadow gave her a worried look.
“Oh, there’s no chance of that. Noo-noo tolerates Cammie just fine, but she likes being the center of our attention too much to want Cammie to be more than a temporary visitor.”
Noo-noo was watching Cammie and Boris with interest. Her expression seemed to indicate that she hoped it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
Meadow nodded. “Okay. How about if I give Ramsay a little time to warm up to the idea? Since he’s right in the middle of a case, it’s probably not the right time to ask. In the meantime, I’ll come over for short visits to let Cammie and Boris get used to each other.”
It looked as if the two dogs had already gotten used to each other, however. Boris had gently wrapped himself around Cammie’s small frame as they napped.
Meadow took pictures. Beatrice believed they might be the first non-grandson pictures Meadow had taken for quite a while.
A couple of fairly quiet days went by. Meadow did indeed bring Boris by for visits and Cammie, small as she was, managed to keep the big dog in check with an occasional disdainful look. Beatrice’s days were filled with gardening and quilting while Wyatt’s were engaged with various church activities and preparation for Summer’s memorial service, which he was helping Harlowe plan.
The morning of the memorial service was a stormy one. Beatrice looked out the window with a grimace as the rain poured from the heavens without any sign of letting up.
“It’s a good thing Harlowe wanted an indoor service. This storm is pretty intense,” said Beatrice.
“I guess we’ll be driving over to the church today, even if it is practically next-door to us.”
“Oh, definitely. I don’t have anything that would protect me from that amount of rain. Just a wimpy windbreaker with a so-so hood. We’ll have to drive—and run.”
And drive and run they did. In the quick dash from the car to the church under umbrellas, they somehow still ended up getting fairly damp. Fortunately, they’d arrived very early and had plenty of time to dry out before the service started.
“What did Harlowe want for the service?” asked Beatrice.
“He asked for a simple memorial service and for it to take place in the chapel instead of the sanctuary. I had the feeling that he wanted something short so that he could make it through it easier. He said he was having a tough time adjusting.”
Beatrice said, “That’s probably a lot plainer than what Summer would have planned. It’s good that Harlowe picked something that worked better for him.”
An hour later, the service started. Piper slipped into the pew next to Beatrice. The service was only lightly attended by a few people in town. Wyatt read a selection from the Bible and gave a short message. Harlowe gave a short eulogy where he spoke briefly about Summer as a lone tear ran down his cheek.
Afterward, they adjourned to the church hall where a few ladies had brought in covered dishes. Beatrice and Piper got some food and sat down at a table. Soon they were joined by Danica.
“Is it all right if I sit here?” she asked them.
“Of course you can,” said Piper. “There’s plenty of room.”
Danica sat down, looking uneasy. “I feel so conspicuous here,” she said with a short laugh. “Summer and I weren’t exactly friends at the end, you know. But I felt it would look worse if I weren’t here. Then people really would talk.”
Piper said, “It’s a good thing you did make it. There aren’t so many people in attendance.”
Danica said with a sigh, “And I was friends with Summer, at least at the start. I know I pointed out all the problems I’d had with Summer—the work-related stuff. But there were good parts, too. She could make me laugh more than anyone else. We’d crack up sometimes at work, in between classes. Summer was really clever and had these wicked little observations about people.”
Beatrice said, “I thought there must have been some good sides to Summer. Piper was a friend of hers, too.”
“Not a very close one,” said Piper, “but we saw each other every once in a while. I totally agree—she was hilarious. I always smiled around her.”
“We saw all kinds of people in the gym, of course. There were people who were exercise junkies and people who were learning how to be personal trainers. There were also folks who had been told by their doctors that they really needed to work out or their health problems would be worse. Summer seemed to see all of them for who they really were.”
Beatrice said, “That just goes to show that everyone has a good side.”
Danica nodded. “Summer could also stand up for you. One time I had this really awful client who made me totally miserable. He was always trying to make moves on me and never seemed to take a hint. I kept trying to rebuff him, but he never stopped.”
“And Summer said something to him?” asked Beatrice.
“Summer told him she was going to fill his wife in as soon as she saw her. He left with his tail between his legs.” Danica had a small smile on her face from the memory.
“Did Summer just change into a difficult person overnight, or was there always that side of her personality there?” asked Piper.
Danica shrugged. “She definitely got worse. At first, I thought she must have an unhappy marriage. But then I met Harlowe and realized he was totally amazing. He was just so proud of her and supportive. Exactly what you’d want in a husband.”
“So you realized Harlowe wasn’t the problem,” said Beatrice.
“Exactly. That’s when I started wondering if her money and her ambition changed her. Summer started acting as if she was better than anyone else. She stopped caring about people’s feelings.” Danica rubbed her eyes as if she were exhausted. “So that’s Summer. Now we have another death to handle—Sylvia’s. And the police have been talking with me about it.”
“Did you know her?” asked Piper.
Danica shook her head. “I didn’t know her at all. But it makes me feel sick that someone did something like that. And I don’t understand why Ramsay thinks the two deaths are related. Sylvia didn’t sound like the kind of person who’d have known Summer or been in one of her classes.”
Beatrice said, “Sylvia was Summer’s next-door neighbor. A particularly observant one.”
Danica’s eyes widened. “Got it. Someone killed her because she .knew who murdered Summer? That’s awful. But why didn’t Sylvia just tell the police? Was she planning on doing something with the information? Blackmailing the killer or something?”
Beatrice shook her head. “I’m not sure.” She paused. “Considering you’ve been looking for a job, I’m guessing you didn’t ask Summer if you could work at her new studio? With everything that happened, I suppose you wouldn’t have wanted to work for her.”
Danica colored. “I didn’t, no. It was obvious to me that Summer’s studio was going to be all about Summer. She was planning on being the only instructor there.”
Piper frowned. “What if she needed to take a sick day or something? She didn’t want anyone there for backup?”
“Summer? Sick?” Danica gave a harsh laugh. “Summer had no intention of being sick, ever. And viruses apparently understand that because she never caught anything. She seemed immortal. It’s one of the reasons it’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that she’s gone.”
Piper said, “Thinking back on asking for jobs, did you get in touch with the school?”
“I did. I have an interview set up with the administration. I’m a little nervous about it. I don’t have any formal experience in education.”
Piper said, “But you have lots of experience and knowledge in fitness and teaching fitness classes. Right now, they have no one.”
Danica brightened at that. “True.”
“Just try to focus on how much you love encouraging people to be their healthiest selves. It’s clear you’re really passionate about exercise and eating right.” Beatrice glanced at Danica’s plate. It had raw vegetables, raw fruits, and some salad with no dressing on it.
Danica followed Beatrice’s gaze and laughed. “It may look like I’m depriving myself all the time, but that’s really not it. I’ve just gotten so used to eating healthy foods that when I don’t, my body sort of flips out. I don’t like the stomach upset I get when I eat junk.” She hurriedly added, “Not that the church ladies are serving junk food.”
Beatrice chuckled. “It’s a good thing they didn’t hear you say that. But you’re right—it’s heavy food, for sure. Lots of gravies and fried foods. If you’re not used to it, I can imagine your stomach would revolt. Anyway, if you can translate your passion for healthy lifestyles into the interview, you’ll be great. That will help keep you from feeling nervous if you think of it as just sharing what you know.”
Danica nodded. “That sounds like a smart plan. I’ve just been jittery lately, regardless, what with the police talking to me and everything. I hope the cops get who’s behind all this, and fast.” She paused and said in a low voice, “I know I was thinking before that Harlowe must have something to do with this. But he seems so genuinely broken about Summer’s death that it’s hard to believe he could have been involved. If he is that good of an actor, he should be on the stage. Now I’m feeling bad that I told Ramsay he must have done it.”
“I know you said Harlowe is a good guy,” said Piper.
“Exactly. I always thought he was a real saint for putting up with Summer. Love is hard to understand, I guess. Anyway, enough about me and all my drama. How are things going with both of you?”
They chatted for a while as they ate. When they were finished, Danica said, “I’d better run. I’ve got to find something decent to wear for the interview. Good talking with y’all.”
As she left, Piper said, “I should be going, too, so I can give Meadow a break from watching the baby.”
Beatrice said wryly, “Meadow won’t forgive you for picking him up early. You know how she is about her time with him.”
“That’s true. I wanted to get Will a haircut, though. His wispy hair is a little out of control.”
Beatrice laughed. “You’ll probably have to take Meadow with you. She’ll want to take pictures or video the whole thing.”
“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even think of that! You’re totally right. Well, maybe she’ll be a distraction for him. I’m not sure he’s all that crazy about getting haircuts.” She bent to give Beatrice a peck on the cheek. “See you soon, Mama.”
Chapter Fifteen
Beatrice was finishing up her glass of lemonade and was about to get ready to leave, herself, when she spotted Ramsay heading her way. He raised a hand, and she pointed to one of the empty seats next to her.
He joined her, sitting down with a plop. “How are you, Beatrice? Aside from being at a funeral, I mean.”
“I think the question is more how are you doing, Ramsay? I know it’s always tough to find time to even eat or sleep during these investigations.”
“It is. Meadow’s been fussing at me, of course. At least she’s distracted with the baby today. But it’s one of those cases where it just doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. Everything seems to be leading to a dead end.” He shrugged and rubbed his eyes tiredly.
Beatrice said, “I d have a question for you. Do you know why Sylvia didn’t just tell you what she’d seen? I know I’m just assuming she saw something the morning Summer was murdered, but it does seem the most likely scenario.”
Ramsay sighed. “I’ve been thinking about this. I’d go by and knock on Sylvia’s door from time-to-time to do a wellness check on her. I felt bad that she was all alone over there and didn’t go out much—despite what Miss Sissy has said. I think their pancake breakfast outing was a regular event, but Sylvia didn’t do a whole lot of other stuff. Anyway, I’ve always gotten the feeling that she was real observant and, also, that she just liked knowing stuff. She got a charge out of being the one who was in the know. So she’d peer out her windows and see what was going on with the neighbors.”
“Did she gossip about the things she knew? Did she tell you about them, for instance, when you’d come over for your wellness visits?”
He nodded. “Sometimes. It was always harmless gossip. She was the first to tell me about the construction going on behind Summer’s house, for instance. Sylvia looked a little smug when she knew something that no one else did. So maybe she was planning on telling Miss Sissy at their outing what was going on next door. But she never got the chance.”
“Why would Sylvia have opened her door to a killer if she knew who they were?”
Ramsay said, “When I followed up with Miss Sissy, she mentioned that Sylvia always left her door unlocked. She’d grown up in Dappled Hills and had always felt safe enough in the community not to worry about locks.”
“And you definitely don’t think Sylvia was planning on blackmailing the murderer?”
“Nope,” said Ramsay. “She had plenty of money. When her husband died, she lived very frugally. She wasn’t interested in an extravagant lifestyle. She didn’t even spend the money she had, so why would she want more?”
“Not to be nosy, but do you know where the money will go?”
Ramsay grinned at her. “That actually is really nosy. But I’m sure it’ll be public knowledge soon, if it’s not already. She has a distant cousin she’s leaving some money to. But she’s also settling some cash on Miss Sissy.”
Beatrice raised her eyebrows. “Really?”
“She seemed to be Sylvia’s main, if not her only, friend. I haven’t spoken with Miss Sissy about it, though. I’m doing that shortly.”
Beatrice mused, “Miss Sissy with money. I can’t imagine what that’s going to look like.”
Ramsay chuckled. “I have the feeling Miss Sissy will just go on as usual. Nothing really seems to change with her.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. How did you like By the Pricking of My Thumbs?”
“It scared me to death. But that might be because I read it at the same time that I discovered a murder. I stayed up half the night reading it and didn’t sleep. It was great, but . . . yeah.”
