Pattern of Betrayal (Vineyard Quilt Mysteries Book 2) (19 page)

In record time, Inga and Hannah returned. They carried smelling salts, a bottle of peroxide, a couple of towels, and a bag of frozen peas between them.

“Here.” Hannah handed the smelling salts to Julie. “I found these in the first-aid kit.”

Julie snapped open the packet and held it under Kenneth’s nose.

He stirred, swatting away the offensive odor as he struggled to sit up.

“Oh, thank heavens!” Susan exclaimed. She threw her arms around him, further hampering his progress.

Untangling himself from Susan’s arms, Kenneth tried to get on his feet, but he failed miserably. “What happened?” He winced as he spoke, squinting as though trying to focus.

“I am so sorry,” Liam said. “I thought you were the killer. What were you doing, sneaking around in my room?”

Kenneth gingerly touched his head, drawing his hand away to look at the blood on his fingers. “You
hit
me?”

“I’m sure it was just a simple misunderstanding,” Julie said. “Wasn’t it, Liam?”
Please say it was.

Susan’s eyes reflected the plea.

“What were you doing in my room?” Liam demanded again.

Kenneth sighed. “Can someone help me up?”

“Oh, right.” Liam and Julie managed to hoist Kenneth onto his unsteady feet and over to the Queen Anne chair in the corner.

Hannah handed him the bag of peas covered with one of the towels. He winced as he held it in place on his head. Susan knelt at his feet, clasping his free hand in both of hers.

Inga brushed past all of them to work on the carpet.

“I suppose I have a confession to make,” Kenneth began. “I couldn’t sleep Saturday night. So I rummaged around in the game cabinet. I thought maybe I could get a deck of cards and play solitaire or something.”

“The cabinet downstairs?” Julie asked.

Kenneth’s nod turned into a wince. “Yes.”

Everyone waited for him to continue.

“I found the journal in the cabinet. You know, the one you showed us Friday afternoon? I couldn’t imagine how it got there, and I knew everyone was running around trying to find it.” He grinned sheepishly. “So I hid it.”

“You
what
?” Julie said. She’d practically turned the house upside down trying to find the stupid book. And all the time, Kenneth knew where it was? “Why didn’t you say something?”

He shrugged. “Things were just getting exciting around here, and I was really starting to enjoy myself.”

“You’re saying you did this to try and keep up the level of excitement?” Julie asked, incredulous. As if murder wasn’t excitement enough.

“It sounds dumb when
you
say it.”

“It would sound dumb when
anyone
said it,” Inga interjected from where she knelt on the floor, cleaning.

Kenneth frowned at her. “Plus, I didn’t think anyone would believe that I just
found
it. I didn’t want you all to think I was a thief.”

No one spoke.

“So … I decided to hide it and see what happened,” Kenneth continued. “When we switched rooms with Liam, I forgot all about where I hid it until this afternoon. I waited until he was asleep and tried to sneak in here and get it. The next thing I knew, you were waving ammonia under my nose.”

“I truly am sorry,” Liam said. “I was sound asleep. I didn’t
get a lot of rest last night. Then I heard something in my room. I didn’t look. I just reacted. After what happened to Alice—”

“It’s OK.” Kenneth smiled as if to say “No hard feelings.”

“Where is the book now?” Julie demanded.

Kenneth pushed himself to his feet and wobbled over to the closet. He tried to reach up for something on the shelf, but looked like he might swoon. He turned back to Liam. “Can you?”

Liam nodded and took his place in front of the closet, running his hands along the top shelf until he found what he was looking for. He pulled down the small leather book and offered it to Julie as if it were the crown jewels on a velvet pillow.

“For the last time, I do not want to go to the doctor,” Kenneth said.

Liam and Inga had managed to get him downstairs and seated in the tearoom. He looked like he’d rather sleep, but they were afraid he might have a concussion.

Once Susan learned that her husband was going to be all right, she declared she had a migraine and went to her room. Carrie, who had been comforting Susan, claimed she wanted to work on the quilt. “Sewing always calms my nerves,” she stated. Too bad the same thing didn’t work for Susan.

“Move the peas,” Julie told Kenneth.

He did as she ordered, and she made a face as she examined the cut. It was large enough and deep enough to need stitches, but the stubborn man would have nothing to do with it. Not to mention the inevitable concussion. “It needs sutures,” she said for the umpteenth time.

“I’m fine. Doctors are overpriced. I should know; I am one.”

“The inn will gladly pay for the visit.” It was one thing to have to pay for an ER visit and quite another to foot the bill for an ICU stay after he slipped into a coma.

She reached toward him as if to help him to his feet.

He smacked her hand away. “I’m fine, I tell you.”

“Stitches,” she said again, already tired of this game.

“Superglue,” he countered. “I’ll glue it shut, and it’ll be healed in no time.”

It was better than nothing. “How are you going to do it? It’s on the back of your head.”

“You’ll help me?” It was almost a question.

“No. But I’ll drive you to the doctor.”

As if by magic, Inga appeared, carrying the tiny tube of glue. She had rubber gloves on her hands and a determined look on her face. “I’ll take care of it. Move.”

For a brief moment, Kenneth looked like he might change his mind. But instead he nodded and turned so that Inga could get to the wound.

“Ow, ow, ow,” he protested as she held the sides in place and squeezed glue onto the area.

“Hold still.” Her German accent seemed more pronounced than usual, as if she was trying to scare Kenneth. It worked. Once finished, a ghost of a smile played at the corners of her lips as she pulled off the gloves and marched out of the room.

Julie stepped behind Kenneth and inspected the repair.

“How’s it look?” he asked.

“Better,” she said. At least the glue had sealed the area enough that it wasn’t bleeding any longer. No doubt that was Inga’s primary motivation—to keep any more blood from staining the floors.

Liam stepped forward. “I truly am sorry.”

“If you apologize to me again, I’m going to take the nearest
lamp and knock you in the head with it,” Kenneth said.

Julie sincerely hoped not. But she hid her smile as the two sat down to the checkerboard. With the conk on the head Kenneth had received, she had a feeling Liam was about to win all the afternoon games.

She stopped in her office long enough to deposit the journal in the safe, giving the dial an extra spin to ensure it locked properly, and then made her way to the kitchen.

There was still no sign of Gregory or Sadie anywhere. It seemed strange that they would both disappear so quickly and simultaneously. Still, she reminded herself that they were under no obligation to let her know what they were up to. They could do as they liked, as long as it was in town.

Hannah was in the kitchen, sitting at the island with a cup of coffee at her elbow and a large cookbook propped open in front of her.

“Time for a little reading?” Julie asked.

“Just trying to keep the menu fresh. This weekend has seriously challenged my repertoire.”

Julie crossed the room and poured herself a cup of coffee. She added cream and a bit of sugar, and then joined her friend at the island. “You know I think you do a wonderful job, right?”

Hannah smiled. “I know, but it never hurts to keep on one’s toes.”

Now that was a philosophy that Julie could embrace.

“Thanks for all your help this morning,” Julie said. “This weekend, actually.”

Hannah shrugged. “What are friends for?”

The phone rang. Julie crossed to the old-fashioned unit hanging on the wall. The crazy thing even had a cord, but the sight of it made everyone smile, so she hadn’t had the heart to replace it.

“Quilt Haus Inn. How may I help you?”

“My name is David. I work for Tri-County Suppliers. I have an invoice that says I’m supposed to pick up a return shipment heading to Carmichael Foods. I’m calling to make sure it’s ready to go.”

“Hold on one minute, please.” Julie placed her hand over the receiver and addressed Hannah. “Do you have a return shipment for Carmichael Foods?”

She shook her head. “What’s it for?”

Julie uncapped the phone. “I’m sorry, we don’t have a record of this. Can you give me more details?”

“Yes ma’am. It says here that there’s been a factory recall on their vegetable oil. Seems it’s been contaminated with peanut oil and needs to be returned.”

Julie sighed with relief as she made her way to her office.

After putting Hannah on the phone with the trucking company and two calls to Carmichael Foods, the tainted oil was finally ready to be picked up. But the biggest relief came from knowing that Joyce’s attack had been strictly accidental—not the work of a cold-blooded killer.

Now if they could only solve the mystery of who killed Alice and why, life would be perfect again. Or close to it.

She resisted the urge to check her watch and see how much longer everyone had to remain at the inn—a watched pot and all that. Instead, she went to her office and retrieved the journal from the safe.

She’d promised Aston Cooper, the book expert and museum curator, a look at the book. Now that it was back in her hands, she could make good on her promise. She
took the non-flash pictures he’d requested and sent them to him via email from her cellphone. She was anxious to know what Aston thought. Something told her the book would be worth more than she was originally led to believe. It took everything she had not to drum her fingers against her desk in her impatience.

Her phone dinged, and she snatched it off the desk. The message was from Aston: “I’ll get back to you as soon as I know something.”

“Julie?” She turned as Shirley poked her head into the office. “Daniel Franklin’s here.”

“Tell him to come on back.”

“I already did,” Shirley said. “But he said he’d wait for you out front.”

“Thanks, Shirley. I’ll be right out.”

“I’ll let him know.” The redhead disappeared.

Julie locked the journal inside the safe, turning the dial to make sure the tumblers set correctly. She wasn’t about to take any chances. Running her hands through her long hair to try and tame any wayward curls, she headed to the front of the inn.

“Daniel,” Julie greeted him as she stepped into the front hall. “What brings you by today?”

He smiled. “You.”

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but ignoring the slight flutter of her pulse seemed like a good start. “Me?”

“I think you need a break from all this craziness.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished. “I can’t leave today.”

“Come with me and get a cup of coffee. We’re talking an hour max.”

“I don’t know, Daniel.”

“Give me one good reason.”

“The guests are all still here, for one thing.”

“So? They’re big people; they can do without you for one little hour.”

“But—”

He shook his head, smiling that charming smile that showed off his irresistible dimples. “The place is not going to fall apart if you leave for a while.”

“How sure are you about that?”

“One hundred percent positive.” There was that smile again. “You need a break from all of the stress in this place. I’m here to make sure you get it.”

“You’re not going to give up, are you?” she asked.

“Not a chance.”