2 Knot What It Seams (26 page)

“And then Savannah told me that Karen was there,” said Georgia slowly.

Posy and Beatrice both stared at her. “That morning? While Savannah was there?”

Georgia nodded.

“But she said she was doing something else that morning,” said Beatrice, frowning. “She said that she’d been waiting for a repairman to come out.”

Georgia shifted uneasily. “That’s why I really hate bringing it up. I didn’t want to say anything to Ramsay . . . or Meadow, who is practically the same as telling Ramsay. Because maybe she was like Savannah—she didn’t want to place herself at the scene of the crime. And maybe she
did
wait for the repairman right after she was at the shop. Maybe she left the shop after she realized that you weren’t there, Posy.”

Or maybe she’d left after she’d speedily smothered the sleeping Opal. With whom she’d recently been seen arguing.

“Did Savannah see when Karen left the shop?” asked Beatrice.

Georgia shook her head. “No. But she didn’t think there was anything special about that morning, either. She was more worried about getting out of the shop, undetected, with her pack of needles.” She knit her brows. “Do you think we should tell Ramsay, then? I hate letting him know that Savannah was at the Patchwork Cottage that morning, too.”

“I don’t think Ramsay will even think twice about Savannah being there,” said Beatrice. “He knows all about her little . . . problem. What possible motive could Savannah have? And she certainly didn’t have a motive to murder Jo. I wouldn’t worry about it. But I do think we need to let Ramsay know . . . just so he can check it out or keep an eye on Karen. As Posy said, it might all have been totally innocent.”

Meadow came surging toward them.

“And I think we’d better not say anything to Meadow about it,” said Beatrice quickly. “She’s too excited about having Karen as part of the Village Quilters. Who knows what she’ll do if she hears about this?”

Georgia made an excuse and scurried away and Posy murmured something about checking on Miss Sissy and left in another direction. Meadow was clearly focused on the quilt show instead of the murders.

“Beatrice, I think we have an emergency.”

“We do?”

“We’re out of ice. And it’s getting very stuffy in here. I think people will be wanting some ice soon,” said Meadow.

Beatrice said, “Shouldn’t a community college have an ice maker? At
least
one?”

Meadow said, “Well, they do have one, but it’s broken. Actually, I’m afraid that I might have broken it. This is exactly the reason why the mayor has no business levying fees and taxes on us! Sometimes we have these mishaps happen and then we need to take a little money from our general fund to pay for them.”

“So you’re wanting me to find some ice.”

Meadow grabbed her arms. “Could you? That would be wonderful. I’d leave myself, but I’m supposed to be doing that memorial for Jo and Opal in a few minutes and I don’t want to be dripping perspiration any more than I already am. There’s a gas station that’s right beside the college. Shouldn’t take you long to hop in your car and head over there.”

Beatrice said drily, “My car is parked so far away that it’s practically
at
the gas station. I’ll just walk there. There’s no point driving the ten extra yards or so. One bag of ice?”

“Two. No, three! Yes, three will be perfect,” said Meadow, apparently ignoring the fact that three bags might be slightly heavy for a retired art museum curator to tote around.

Karen, who was standing behind Meadow, asked, “Do you know when the judges are supposed to release their results?”

“Yes! In fact, they should be finishing up their ballots now. . . .” Meadow hurried away again and Beatrice fished in her pocketbook for some money, not noticing that her keys dropped out as she rummaged.

She glanced up sharply, having the uncomfortable feeling that she was being watched. She scanned the room and saw that Booth Grayson was still glowering at her from across the room. Glen’s eyes also met hers and he smiled at her a little warily, she thought. She didn’t notice anyone else looking her way and scolded herself for having nerves. Maybe the near miss on the Blue Ridge Parkway had rattled her more than she’d thought.

As Beatrice walked out the door, Miss Sissy eyed the keys lying so invitingly and unprotected on the floor. Swooping down, she nimbly grabbed them and jingled them delightedly, stuffing them quickly into her dress pocket as Posy caught up with her.

Clouds had rolled in and made it even darker outside than it actually was. It looked like at least a mile to the gas station. Fortunately, she’d worn sensible shoes. As if she didn’t
always
wear sensible shoes. She walked quickly through the quiet parking lot toward the station, weaving through the parked cars.

“I really
did
like you,” came a cool voice from behind her. She gasped and spun around to see Karen standing there, holding a lug wrench in one hand.

Chapter 18

Th
e other woman was completely calm and focused, which was more frightening than anything.

“You’re a smart, accomplished woman,” recited Karen in a detached voice. “And you’ve got a great daughter. She’s really going to miss you.”

Beatrice decided to ignore that last bit. She glanced around her to see if there was anything she could use as a weapon or if she could see anyone who could help her. All she could see was a sea of cars and not a soul around. Maybe if she could somehow swing her pocketbook at her? And if she could stall and keep Karen talking . . .

“If you like me so much, Karen, why are you threatening me?” asked Beatrice in as reasonable a tone as she could muster. “I thought we were getting along so well together, too.”

“There are a couple of problems with you, Beatrice. One is that you like poking into other people’s business. I wouldn’t have thought that about you, but all I’ve seen lately is you asking questions and trying to connect clues. Maybe you come by it honestly. Maybe it’s just the fact that evaluating and appraising art is similar to detective work, too,” said Karen.

“But my investigating shouldn’t have bothered you that much. It didn’t bother anyone else. It only bothered you because you killed Jo Paxton and Opal Woosley,” stated Beatrice.

“It worried me a little. I’ll admit it. It also bothered me that you’re clearly bent on starting a relationship with Wyatt,” said Karen, eyes narrowing.

This made Beatrice stare at Karen, openmouthed. “What on earth do you mean? The only kind of relationship I’m interested in having with the minister is strictly a friendship. Or perhaps a spiritual relationship,” said Beatrice a bit primly. Who was she trying to convince? “I certainly don’t have any designs on the minster. Are you romantically interested in him?”

“Of course I am,” snapped Karen. “You had to know that. Meadow knows it, which is why she was making such a point over it at my dinner party the other night.”

“Meadow had way too much to drink, which should have been obvious to you. Besides, her comments simply reflect the way Meadow
is
. She lives for making connections with people, even connections that won’t work out. Like your inclusion in the Village Quilters,” said Beatrice.

“You were trying to edge me out. Me! And you’re an old woman,” seethed Karen, fingers clenching on the lug wrench.

“Then Wyatt is an old man,” said Beatrice drily. “Because he and I are the same age.”

Fury twisted Karen’s mouth and Beatrice added quickly, still hoping to diffuse the situation, “You’re very competitive, aren’t you? I’ve heard that you set out to prove your mother wrong. She thought you were no good at quilting, so you decided to become the best.”

Karen’s voice was clipped. “Mother didn’t know anything. She was jealous because she could see I had a lot of natural talent.”

Beatrice continued. “That’s really why you were so upset with Jo. Not only was she standing in the way of your winning quilt shows and building a name for yourself, but she was also simply competition for you. Jo was a very solid quilter.” Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she spotted some movement through the cars—but when she looked again, she saw nothing.

“She had talent. But she didn’t have the imagination to win the much bigger shows,” said Karen. “And her vision was totally limited. Jo thought in terms of the Southeast. I’m thinking about winning national competitions.” Karen’s voice rang with pride. “I try different things. I spend a lot of time creating new designs.”

“Which of course I could help you with,” said Beatrice smoothly. “Design is really my forte.”

Karen gripped the lug wrench again, as if reminding herself it was there and what it was for.

Beatrice kept talking. “So, being the cutthroat person you are, you decided to take out the competition. But it needed to look like an accident, didn’t it? I’m sure if Ramsay and the state police were to take your computer right now, they’d be sure to find searches for how best to cut brake lines.”

Karen kept quiet.

“The best way to cut the lines, as I’m sure you discovered, was to use wire cutters for some control. You wouldn’t want to completely sever the brake lines or Jo would never have left her driveway. She’d have known her brakes were out before she ever got on the road. What I’m wondering,” said Beatrice, “is if you’d originally planned to cut the brake lines the morning of the quilt show. I’m thinking that the weather played a huge role in your decision. That particular morning with the sheeting rain made for the perfect day for you to carry out your plan. With weather like that, it was sure to look like an accident, wasn’t it?”

“I heard that you were the person who convinced Ramsay to investigate the accident,” said Karen in a tight voice. “You had to get involved, didn’t you? I knew from the start that I was going to have to keep an eye on you.”

Beatrice was still visually combing the parking lot for someone to help her. Her visibility was limited on one side by a few large cars and trucks. It wasn’t worth it to scream unless she
knew
there was someone to hear her. And no one was outside at the gas station.

She took a deep breath. “The only problem was that Opal Woosley had seen you at the Paxtons’ house. She hadn’t really understood at the time what she was seeing, of course. Opal was more concerned about getting away without someone seeing her, since she was there to play her regular pranks on Jo.”

“Which was going to have been perfect for me in case Ramsay did investigate the accident and discovered that the brakes were tampered with,” said Karen. “Glen knew that Opal had been playing pranks on them since Jo had run over her Skippy. He’d be sure to tell the police the kinds of things that Opal had done.”

“It made a lot of sense; the only problem was that Opal had actually been out there the morning you were there. Once she put two and two together, she asked you about it. You’d had no idea she’d seen you at the Paxtons’ house until she approached you. You were seen having a heated discussion with Opal. It was then that you knew you had to get rid of her,” said Beatrice. “Your motive for Jo’s murder was to get her out of your way. Opal’s murder was a matter of necessity.”

Karen said, “She obviously wasn’t going to be able to keep quiet about it. The woman couldn’t keep quiet about anything.”

“You were out that morning, early, to get some breakfast since your oven was out. You saw Opal’s car, alone, at the Patchwork Cottage. Posy had already left to run back home. You quietly entered the shop and saw the perfect opportunity to get rid of Opal Woosley,” said Beatrice. She unobtrusively hefted the weight of her pocketbook a little. She always carried a big bag. Was it heavy enough to stun Karen enough to drop the lug wrench? If she hit her in the face with the purse maybe?

Karen shifted uneasily and Beatrice hurriedly continued. “You really took a chance with your alibi, didn’t you? Especially considering that Opal’s murder wasn’t planned. You did have a repairman over to fix your oven. But the repairman could have come by your house while you were out and then the police would have known you were out. As it was, you messed up your alibi by telling Meadow, Piper, and me that you’d gone out for breakfast the morning you’d been waiting for your repairman. But you’d also told me that the repair company was very responsive . . . that you’d only called them the afternoon before they came out the next day. So you’d gone out the morning of the murder.”

“A girl has to eat,” said Karen with a shrug. “I’d no idea at the time that I needed an alibi or to worry over being seen out. It was pure serendipity that I saw Opal’s car on the way back from the doughnut shop drive-through. You realize this is all circumstantial evidence, Beatrice.”

“There’s something else that you don’t know about,” said Beatrice quickly. “A
living
eyewitness that you know nothing about. One who can nail you on your actual whereabouts during Opal’s murder.”

Karen’s patronizing smile turned into a snarl. “Who is it? Who?” She yanked Beatrice’s arm, holding her tightly against her. Her pocketbook was trapped between them and there was no way she could maneuver it out from this position. As it was, she could barely breathe.

She gave a short laugh. “You think I’m going to tell you who saw you, Karen? Why would I tell you who it was? So you could kill that person, too? How stupid do you think I am?”

Karen pushed her hard away from her and Beatrice went flying backward onto the pavement, on top of her pocketbook.

At that moment, though, something triggered Beatrice’s blaring car alarm, only feet away from where they stood.

This time Karen was the one who jumped and spun to look behind her. Beatrice took that opportunity to grab at Karen’s legs and pull as hard as she could. Karen fell to the ground with a thud, and the lug wrench clanged onto the pavement.

The alarm wailed persistently as Beatrice strained to reach the lug wrench, scrambling on the cement to grab it. Finally, her hand closed around the iron . . . just as Karen grabbed her foot with a viselike grip.

But Beatrice had the lug wrench. And with one swat at Karen’s hand, Karen quickly let go of her foot.