Quilt Trip: A Southern Quilting Mystery (16 page)

They cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen. Then Meadow said again, “Want to go upstairs for a chat, Beatrice?” Beatrice thought this was a bit of overkill, but they headed upstairs.

“Now what?” Meadow asked in a hushed voice. “Should we wait or go ahead?”

“Let’s give whomever a chance to get into place. So let’s talk about other things and be natural for a minute.”

Meadow’s idea of natural was to immediately spring into a very animated discussion about her dog Boris’s eating habits and stomach issues. Apparently, some digestive distress had necessitated changes in dog food brands. This was actually a surprise to Beatrice. On most of the occasions when she’d had contact with Meadow’s huge beast, he’d eaten whatever struck his fancy. In fact, Boris was very goatlike in his eating.

After a couple of minutes of this, Beatrice felt the urge to finally interrupt. Surely whoever was trying to eavesdrop on them had gotten into position and was probably about to run away after hearing Meadow’s Boris the Dog monologue. “Meadow, about that issue I wanted to talk to you about.”

Meadow gave her an excited nod and said in an overly casual voice, “Oh, that’s right. What’s on your mind?”

“When I was in the attic earlier, I came across some papers. It was so dark up there and that flashlight is so pitiful that I took the papers down with me so that I could see them in a brighter light. After taking a closer look, I can tell they must be a will. And a few other legal papers and notes, too.”

“Really?” said Meadow. “Imagine that.”

“Yes. Well, we knew there should be papers like that here, so I guess it’s not too much of a surprise. But considering the circumstances, I thought it would be prudent to put the papers in a safe place.”

“Very clever of you,” said Meadow. “Where did you put them?”

“Well, I wanted to let you know in case anything were to happen to me. You just never know in this house, do you? So I put them down in the study in an Agatha Christie book. In
And Then There Were None
.”

“Even more clever!” said Meadow. Then she gave an exaggerated yawn. “You know, I think I’ll go ahead and turn in. Are we sleeping downstairs or upstairs tonight? I’m so exhausted that I really don’t even care.”

“I think I’m going downstairs again,” said Beatrice. “That little fire in the library was actually very comforting to fall asleep to.”

A couple of minutes later Beatrice walked downstairs—not to the library, but to the study. She’d noticed earlier that there was a closet in the room filled with things like books, old chessboards, and even more quilts. She took several of the quilts down from the shelves and put them on the floor of the closet as a cushion while she waited for someone to come looking for the fictitious papers. She hoped that whoever had been listening would hurry up with their snooping.

Unfortunately, no one did hurry. And Beatrice was starting to get fairly uncomfortable in her hiding place. It was a shame how muscles cramped up when you got older.

After a couple of hours had passed, Beatrice was ready to give up completely. Perhaps no one had cared to listen in on her important conversation. Or perhaps the eavesdropper had gotten turned off by the talk of Boris’s dog food. Or perhaps no one had even really registered that Beatrice and Meadow were going to have a discussion in the first place. Beatrice slowly started moving again as her muscles ached in protest.

She was standing up into a crouch when the door to the study opened and she dropped back down to the floor again. Beatrice couldn’t see who the figure was in the darkness. Whoever it was walked right to the study’s bookcase and searched through the titles. Beatrice waited until the figure pulled a book off the shelf and opened it. Then she jumped out of the closet, turning on her flashlight and saying, “Wait right there!”

Beatrice was faced with a very startled and irritated Alexandra.

“What are you doing here?” spluttered Alexandra.

“I think the question is more what are
you
doing here?” Beatrice said coldly. “You listened in on Meadow’s and my conversation and stole down here to take the papers.”

“Which aren’t here,” Alexandra said, eyes flashing. “Where did you put them?”

“There
aren’t
any papers,” said Beatrice. “They were our invention to trick you into revealing yourself.”

Meadow and Posy came into the study, eyes wide. “We heard voices,” said Posy, gazing at Alexandra solemnly.

“So Alexandra is the culprit,” crowed Meadow, exceedingly pleased. She didn’t bother trying to hide her dislike of the woman.

“I’m certainly not. Think again,” said Alexandra icily. “All that I’m guilty of is trying to locate papers that have great significance to my personal life. And this is
my
house, I might add.”

“A fact that’s actually in some doubt,” said Meadow with a sniff. “I’m not at all convinced that you’re the heir to this mansion.”

“Besides, you’re not only guilty of searching for papers,” said Beatrice. “You’re also guilty of eavesdropping—and I would very much like to know how you’re eavesdropping so frequently without getting caught.”

Alexandra pressed her lips tightly closed.

“Are you standing with your ear outside our door?” asked Meadow.

“It seems like we would all have seen you in the hall if you were listening outside doors,” said Posy, almost apologetically.

The three women stared at Alexandra, who appeared to be wrestling with herself over whether to divulge her secret.

Finally, Alexandra snapped. “Fine. May as well tell you since you’re clearly all grabbing onto me like a pit bull over this. There’s a secret passageway. It goes from a small door in the back of my closet to a couple of other bedrooms on my side of the hall. Including yours, Meadow and Beatrice.”

Meadow appeared as though she might fall over from the thrill of it all. And Beatrice had to admit that her heart skipped a beat or two at the thought. Secret passageways!

Beatrice took control of her expressions again. “Alexandra, it occurs to me that your knowing about a secret passageway linking bedrooms would have made sneaking to your mother’s bedroom or Colton’s bedroom very easy for you.”

“Maybe it would have. But I didn’t kill anybody.” Alexandra put her hands on her hips. “Just because I know about this house’s secrets doesn’t mean I’m a murderer. The police wouldn’t even consider that evidence.”

“This is sounding all very familiar,” said Beatrice. “You knew about the hiding place under the stair landing and the secret passageway, yet you’re innocent on all counts. You didn’t put the sleeping pill bottle in the secret hiding spot and you didn’t use the passageways to murder anyone.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Alexandra jutted out her chin.

“Well, I’ll tell you this,” Meadow said. “We could go on all night with this debate. Alexandra admits she knew about the secret places in the house—she grew up here, so of course she did. We don’t have any other proof against her. Why argue back and forth all night long without getting anywhere, when we could be checking out a secret passageway at midnight in a house that might be haunted!” Her eyes glowed with excitement.

Posy breathed. “Do you think we might? Alexandra, could you show us where it is?”

Alexandra frowned at them with exasperation. “You do know you all sound like you’re about five years old instead of the elderly ladies you are.”

“Not so elderly!” said Meadow robustly. “You’re only as old as you feel.”

“All right, I’ll show you where the passageway is,” Alexandra said, sounding resolved. Beatrice thought she might actually be enjoying being the center of attention for the moment. Alexandra was more animated than usual and even had a small smile on her lips. Beatrice couldn’t remember Alexandra ever giving more than a cynical smile.

They quietly went upstairs and Alexandra beckoned them to her bedroom. “How many flashlights or candles do we have?”

“Right now, only the one that I’ve got,” said Beatrice, glancing down at her flashlight.

“Well, it’s obviously pretty dark in there. I’ll light the candle from my bedside table so at least we’ll have two lights,” said Alexandra.

She led them into her closet, where they could barely make out an outline of a door once she’d pointed it out to them in the very back of her closet behind a few old coats. In order to open the door they had to push on the nonhinged side of it, which appeared to activate a spring that opened it. Beatrice, who realized stooping wasn’t her forte anymore after her stint in the closet, was glad that the passageway didn’t require crouching.

They stepped into the darkness. “Narrow, isn’t it?” muttered Meadow, whose sides were touching the walls.

“Shh,” said Alexandra. “Unless you want the whole house up.”

They walked through the passage in a line. They came across another door. “This is your room, Meadow and Beatrice,” Alexandra said quietly.

“Can we open it?” asked Meadow.

“It hasn’t been opened in years,” said Alexandra. “But you can see if you can open it from this side.”

“Wouldn’t you have opened it when you were snooping on us?” asked Meadow.

“No. I listened through the door and could hear you perfectly,” Alexandra said dryly. Meadow did have that loud whisper.

Meadow pushed at the door and it opened up right into their closet, just as in Alexandra’s.

She closed it back and they continued down the narrow passage.

Suddenly Meadow bellowed, “Something on my foot! There are rats in here!”

Posy cried out and Beatrice held her breath as her heart pounded hard in her chest. Beatrice felt she could handle nearly everything in life with a certain amount of equanimity. But rats weren’t one of them.

There was an accompanying shriek from the other side of the wall.

“That would probably be Winnie,” said Alexandra coolly. “She of the ghost fixation.”

“I’m guessing we need to come back out of the walls now,” said Beatrice wryly.

“It might be best,” said Alexandra.

“Poor Winnie,” said Posy.

They turned around with difficulty and walked back to exit through Meadow and Beatrice’s closet, since it was closer. By the time they’d finally made it back out, Winnie was hysterically babbling to Dot and Holly that the ghost or Miss Sissy or perhaps both had disposed of the rest of the group, since they were nowhere to be seen.

Dot patted Winnie kindly. “Look, Winnie. See everyone? They’re all fine.”

Winnie acted briefly relieved, then irritated. “Where were you all? Why didn’t you come out? Where have you been?”

Posy said sadly, “We were trying not to wake y’all up. Alexandra told us about a secret passageway. It goes from bedroom to bedroom through the closets. We were exploring, that’s all . . . We didn’t want to disturb anybody.”

Dot chuckled. “You did a poor job of being quiet, then! What was all that ruckus?”

Meadow said meekly, “I thought a rat had brushed up against me. But it was only one of Alexandra’s old baby dolls rolling around.”

They all stared at Alexandra, trying to picture her ever being childish enough to play with dolls.

“Well, gosh, that relieves my mind a ton,” Winnie said in a sarcastic voice. “So there are secret passageways that connect other bedrooms to mine? Wonderful. That’s just great. How am I supposed to block those off?”

“You could set up a homemade alarm system,” Dot suggested. “You know—put the empty cans of food right outside the hidden door or something like that.”

Winnie simply gave an annoyed sigh.

“Why don’t you come downstairs and sleep?” asked Beatrice. “It worked out well for you last night.”

“I guess it did,” grumbled Winnie. “Although I woke up very sore this morning from sleeping on the floor. I was kind of hoping I could sleep in a soft bed tonight without having any problems. How naive of me.”

“Well, the invitation is open,” said Meadow. “We keep a small fire burning in there, so it’s nice and warm . . . which should keep you from getting too stiff. And there’s safety in numbers, too.” She glanced around at Holly, Alexandra, and Dot. “All of y’all are welcome to sleep in there.”

“I’ll pass,” said Alexandra in her haughty way.

Dot said, “My bed was nice and warm when I left it, so I’m hoping to find that same warm spot when I get back to it.”

They retreated to their separate spaces and Meadow, Posy, and Beatrice headed back downstairs to the library.

“I’m excited about having a decent night’s sleep when I get back home,” said Meadow. “This traipsing around in the middle of the night is about to kill me!”

Beatrice had finally managed to turn off her brain and drift off to sleep when they were awakened by yelling and thumping sounds from upstairs. “Not again,” groaned Beatrice, half asleep.

“What is with that Winnie?” said Meadow.

They rushed upstairs again to see Alexandra and Holly gaping at Winnie, Dot, and Miss Sissy, who all seemed to be wrestling with one another.

“Stop!” Beatrice said in her loudest, firmest voice. “Stop it!”

They did finally stop, panting.

“What’s going on here?” Beatrice asked, feeling a bit like a schoolteacher in a particularly unruly classroom.

“The ghost!” Winnie gasped triumphantly. “There!”

Beatrice stared in the direction Winnie was pointing, which was the curtained window at the end of the hall. She wondered whether Winnie was indeed losing it. Some of the curtain had been yanked off the rod and was lying on the floor in a heap. The heap did appear to be moving and Beatrice wasn’t looking forward to seeing what type of creature was under it. One thing she was certain of, though—it was a living creature and not a dead one.

Dot was still holding her cane threateningly aloft. “Got to be a rat, Beatrice. Saw them all the time in the mill when I was working there. Nasty, awful things.”

Miss Sissy hollered, “Murderer! Wicked! Wants to kill her.”

Beatrice didn’t want the situation to devolve back into chaos, so she gathered her courage and strode toward the moving curtained lump on the floor. “Winnie, I think we’re going to find that this is a rat. You’re acting almost as if you’re about to faint—do you want to go back into your bedroom while I look around?”

Winnie shook her head wordlessly, but backed up against the wall for support.

Dot limped forward and proffered her cane to Beatrice. “Here. You might not want to get your hands too close to that thing. Use the cane to move the fabric out of the way.”

“Don’t hurt my friend!” bellowed Miss Sissy.

Beatrice frowned at the old woman. “So this is your friend?” She hadn’t exactly figured out what she was going to do when she released the creature, but it certainly hadn’t involved handing it over to Miss Sissy. She rethought the problem. “Maybe I should pull the curtain the rest of the way off the rod and gather it up and stick it outside as fast as I can.” She gulped at the thought.

“No!” Miss Sissy was seriously up in arms now.

“Miss Sissy, you can’t be hanging out with rats! They are not your friends. You’ll end up with rabies or other nasty diseases,” Beatrice said with a shudder.

“Isn’t a rat,” Miss Sissy said smugly. She marched over and gently bent to move the curtain to reveal a very indignant cat.

They gawped at the feline. “Where did
that
come from?” asked Beatrice.

Miss Sissy gave her a scornful stare. “From outside, of course. Wanted in.”

“I bet it did,” muttered Beatrice. It was freezing out there. “Does it seem domesticated?”

Miss Sissy stared blankly at her.

“I mean, do you think Muriel was in the habit of feeding the cat?”

“It likes tuna,” Miss Sissy said with a shrug. “Knew it was in the pantry.”

Alexandra roared at Miss Sissy, “You gave this animal our tuna? It was bad enough when I thought
you
were the one eating all the good food. You gave it to
that
?” She pointed at the cat, which was rubbing lovingly against Miss Sissy.

“Isn’t a
that
. It’s Clarisse,” said Miss Sissy elegantly.

A wave of exhaustion rolled over Beatrice and she was reminded that this conversation was taking place in the middle of the night. And it appeared to be going downhill, at that. She quickly said, “I’m assuming that you’ve set up some kind of litter box for the cat, Miss Sissy.” Miss Sissy was kind of vague on that point, but Beatrice really didn’t want to think about this at what must be three o’clock in the morning. “All right, well, we’ll revisit that later in the morning. Winnie, you should be able to sleep better knowing there’s no ghost lurking around to attack you when you’re up getting a cup of water. I feel confident that Clarisse is our ghost.”

Winnie said sullenly, “Yup, only a murderer to fret about now.” She was still staring at the cat and her expression softened. “Actually, Clarisse is sort of cute, isn’t she?”

“And now I think we really all need to try to get a little sleep. We’re going to seriously be at each other’s throats if we can’t get any rest.”