Tying the Knot (5 page)

“Miss Sissy?” asked Beatrice gently, sitting down next to the old woman.

Miss Sissy erupted from sleep with a snort, looking around her wildly. Seeing Beatrice, she rolled her eyes and slumped back into the pew. “Thought you were the killer,” she muttered.

Beatrice blinked. “Do you
know
who the killer is, Miss Sissy?”

“Course not!” she barked scornfully.

Beatrice framed her next question carefully, considering how agitated the old woman was acting. “You always do an amazing job observing the world around you, Miss Sissy.”

Miss Sissy squinted suspiciously at Beatrice.

“You know that Trevor Garber passed away during the reception. We don't know how he died, so Ramsay is also checking into the possibility of foul play. Did you notice anything at the reception? Unusual people? Guests who might have been talking with Trevor? Anything at all about the reception?”

Miss Sissy said, “Food. Good food there. June Bug's cakes were very good.”

Beatrice sighed. “Thanks, Miss Sissy. You can go back to sleep now.”

It appeared that Miss Sissy had been too enamored with June Bug's baking; she'd had eyes only for the food. Beatrice stood up and walked toward Wyatt and Eleanor, hoping to sit in the pew behind them.

“How long do you think this is going to take?” asked a voice behind her, and Beatrice turned to see Savannah there. Savannah had traded in her long floral dress for a starched high-necked blouse and a long navy skirt for the day. Her thin hair was still captured it its usual severe bun. Her brow was wrinkled with worry. “I do feel bad for Eleanor and Trevor, of course,” she said quickly, as if realizing that her question sounded selfish. “But I was hoping to get back to Smoke. Usually I've fed him some canned cat food by now.”

Beatrice glanced over at Ramsay, who seemed to be making some slow progress taking statements, or at least everyone's phone number and address. The
sound of voices entering the sanctuary behind them made them turn to see the state police coming in. “They must have been close by,” said Beatrice absently. Ramsay interrupted his statement taking to go talk with them. “Yes, it might take a while.”

Meadow joined them in time to realize what Savannah and Beatrice were talking about. She said, “Ramsay can be fairly deliberate when it comes to taking statements. You could ask him if he'd speak to you next . . . that's one of the nice things about being friends with the local police chief.” She fidgeted with her watch, spinning it around on her wrist. “I can't believe this happened. And at a wedding! But thank heavens it didn't happen before Harper and Daniel left, so all they'll remember is the happy day they had.” Meadow asked Savannah, “Did you see anything? Is that why you're wanting to talk with Ramsay so urgently?”

Savannah said, “I didn't see a thing. I just want to get home to feed Smoke. I was busy overseeing the food and the helping direct the photographer and explain who he should take pictures of so he wouldn't miss anything important.”

Beatrice hid a smile as Meadow gave her a knowing look. Savannah was being bossy, then, as usual. She'd forgotten about the photographer, though. Maybe he'd have some footage on his camera that would be interesting. She glanced around the sanctuary and saw that Ramsay was sitting down to speak with him.

Beatrice said, “Maybe you actually saw something important without realizing how important it was. For instance, did you happen to see a man who didn't seem to be a guest at the reception?”

Savannah tilted her head to one side, thinking. “He was looking around the side of the tent a couple of times.”

Beatrice nodded. “Sounds like the one I saw.”

Meadow heaved a gusty sigh. “Why don't I ever notice mysterious people lurking around?”

“That's all I saw, though,” said Savannah briskly. “The only reason I noticed him at all was because I was suspicious that maybe he was looking for purses to steal. You know? It seems as if it would be really easy for a thief to read the engagement announcement in the paper, figure out the wedding day, and then look for women's purses lying around while people are dancing or up getting food or whatever. I didn't see him go near Trevor. And I guess someone would have had to go near him for him to be the victim of foul play.”

Beatrice considered this. “Not necessarily. We don't know what happened, but what if Trevor's glass of Coke was somehow tampered with? Maybe Trevor left his glass unattended for a moment for some reason—to get a plate of food or to visit the church restroom, or even to confer with our mysterious lurker. Someone could have seen that he was away and then casually walked to the table and added something to his glass. I remember one time I looked back at his table and he wasn't there.”

Savannah said, “Wouldn't the caterer have taken away Trevor's glass, though? I mean, if he left the table for a few minutes.”

Meadow snorted. “Probably not. They were slow on the uptake, I thought. Especially if his glass had been halfway full when he got up . . . these caterers weren't looking for any extra work—that's for sure.”

Savannah frowned, her heavy eyebrows pulled together in thought. “Actually,” she said, “I did see something, I guess. It irritated me, so that's why I remember it. You know how I was keeping everyone on schedule? There's a timeline of events at a wedding, you know. It's very important. Greeting guests, cutting the cake, dancing, tossing the bouquet . . . there are things that
must
be accomplished in a certain period of time.” Savannah made swift cutting motions with her hand to emphasize the necessary uniform production schedule of your average wedding.

Meadow rolled her eyes at Beatrice.

“Well, Daniel had slipped away at one point. We were in the slot on the schedule where the couple was supposed to be visiting with guests, thanking them for coming, hugging people, and whatnot.” Savannah's hand now made a whirling motion through the air to signify airy frippery. “I lost track of him, which was annoying, since it was time for the—erm—garter toss.”

Savannah blushed, as if any mention of undergarments was in violation of some sort of strict moral code.

“When I finally caught sight of him, he was talking with a couple of guests who seemed to be on the verge of leaving. And then I saw him sit down briefly at an empty table.” She pursed her lips. “I do believe it was the same exact table that Trevor was discovered at a short while ago. He appeared as if he were waiting for someone.”

Beatrice's heart sank, and Meadow said sharply, “Daniel? For heaven's sake, Trevor was his
friend
. He was going to be his best man.”

Savannah gave her a stern look. “I don't know what happened. I only know what I saw. That's what I saw. And then I got myself over to that table and told him it was time to toss the garter and take pictures, and to hurry up. He stood up and followed me off.”

Beatrice and Meadow stared at each other. Could Daniel possibly have been involved in Trevor's death? If so, why?

Savannah said briskly, “Here comes Georgia now. You could ask her if she noticed anything.” Her tone suggested that she very much doubted that Georgia had anything remotely helpful to add.

Georgia blinked at them. “What?”

Savannah said, “Beatrice is asking questions about the reception.” Without giving Beatrice the opportunity to slowly introduce the subject, Savannah said, “Did you see anyone approaching Trevor's table? Did you notice anything unusual?”

Georgia was flustered. “Did I? Hmm.” She looked at Meadow and Beatrice for help.

Meadow grinned at her in understanding. “Or did you only have eyes for Tony?”

Beatrice nodded. “Which would be natural for a first date.”

Georgia blushed. “I don't think I noticed anything at all except for Tony. I'm not even sure I could tell you what food I ate or what beverages they served or what songs the band played. But we had a lovely time.”

Meadow said in a bubbly voice, “You both looked so cute together!”

“Thanks,” said Georgia, eyes dancing. She glanced around the sanctuary and saw Tony looking her way.
She flushed and gave him a small wave. “I'll talk to y'all soon . . . I'm going to go stand with Tony.” She stopped short suddenly, looking guiltily toward Eleanor. “I feel bad being so happy at such a tragic event.”

Meadow made a dismissive sound. “No worries, Georgia. We've all been there. It's a nice reminder that life does go on.”

Beatrice looked curiously at Savannah to see if she was troubled at all by her sister's obvious delight in spending time with Tony. But she was checking her watch impatiently, her mind clearly back home with the little gray cat. Seeing her chance with Ramsay, Savannah hurried off.

Meadow yawned. “I think I'm going to sit down in the pew for a while. And, Beatrice . . . maybe you can give me a ride home when Ramsay's released us? Ramsay is my ride, and I'd like to get home before, oh, three in the morning.”

It wasn't that late when Beatrice finally dropped Meadow home, but it was after eleven. Meadow said sleepily, “I'll get the scoop from Ramsay when he gets home, and then I'll come by and see you tomorrow and fill you in.”

“Won't Ramsay be too tired to talk it out when he gets home?” asked Beatrice. “It looked like he might pull an all-nighter there.”

“Even better. If he pulls an all-nighter, then, when he finally comes in, stumbling from exhaustion, I'll leap out of bed—somewhat rested, hopefully—and start pulling out the frying pan to make a good, old-fashioned country breakfast with his favorite fixings. Because you know he's not eating there. He'll tell me anything I want to know if I whip up a feast for him after a crazy night.”

Beatrice smiled. “Okay, sounds like a deal.”

*   *   *

She'd slept like a rock that night. Apparently, the long day before, with its surprise ending, had affected her
more than she'd thought. Noo-noo must have realized that she needed the company, because she lay at the foot of Beatrice's bed, protectively watching over her as she slept instead of staying on her own bed in the living room, as she usually did.

Beatrice overslept a bit. Usually, the morning sun coming through her window would automatically wake her up; this time, she slept through it and didn't awaken until after nine. Beatrice dressed quickly and made Noo-noo a bowl of dog food and warmed up a couple of blueberry muffins for herself. She also made a large pot of coffee. She was sure it wouldn't be long before Meadow was knocking at her door. Her next thought was that she should probably have some treats ready for Boris, since she'd surely have the big dog in tow.

Beatrice was pouring her first cup of coffee when that knock came. Beatrice heard Boris barking wildly outside, and Meadow gently scolding him. “Silly Boris! You only need to bark when someone knocks on
our
door.”

Beatrice was glad she had the big treats ready, and some prepared for Noo-noo, too, so her feelings wouldn't be hurt. She opened the front door.

Meadow leaped in, pulled by Boris, as if she were water-skiing through Beatrice's living room. “Hi, Beatrice!” She gave Beatrice a closer look, taking in her combed silvery hair, eyeliner, and lipstick. “You've even gotten dressed and have makeup on,” she said reproachfully. “It doesn't look like spending a day at a wedding and a night at a murder investigation even put a dent in you.”

Beatrice said, “I slept really hard, though, which did me a world of good.”

Meadow made a face. “I didn't. I kept waking up, thinking I heard Ramsay coming in and that I needed to leap into action with my breakfast-making, information-gathering session. But all I was hearing was Boris making that loud, squeaky yawn of his, or his toenails scraping on the wood floor as he got comfortable. I don't think I slept a wink.” She pointed to the circles under her eyes as evidence. “I'm haggard. Absolutely haggard.”

“I'm surprised you're here now. You could always have gotten some sleep and visited later.”

“What?” Meadow lifted her eyebrows archly. “And miss mulling over our murder suspects? No way. That's my favorite part of being a sidekick.” Meadow quickly proceeded to make herself at home by pouring a cup of coffee and dosing it liberally with cream and sugar, while Beatrice kept Boris from roaming into the kitchen by offering him treats and tossing some to Noo-noo.

They settled down into Beatrice's overstuffed chair and sofa with their coffees. “So, it
was
murder? At least, you mentioned murder a minute ago.”

Meadow nodded. “Oh, it was murder, all right. Some really powerful prescription sleeping pills were ground up and put into Trevor's Coke. Carbonation and the taste of Coke apparently mask the bitterness of the pills. It was a fatal amount and, because it was ground up, it would have taken effect right away. Somebody wanted Trevor dead—and quickly.”

“Sleeping pills. But Ramsay doesn't think Trevor placed them in his own drink? Trevor looked pretty solemn at the reception. Maybe he took his demotion from being best man particularly hard,” said Beatrice, absently petting Noo-noo.

“Well, Ramsay wondered that. Although it seems like kind of a weird thing to do at a wedding. But Ramsay talked to Eleanor, and she said there was no way he could have put those sleeping pills in his own drink. He hadn't been prescribed any sleeping pills, apparently.” Meadow, who'd also discovered the muffins while she was making coffee, took a bite.

Beatrice said slowly, “But Trevor was a doctor. It seems like he would have access to medication if he really wanted it.”

“True. But Eleanor also stated that Trevor had told her he was determined to start turning his life around. He was going to cut out drinking, be a better husband to Eleanor, mend fences with his adult children, and be a better friend. So he wasn't
that
down. She said he was . . . resolute. That being demoted as best man had served as a wake-up call.”

Beatrice scratched Noo-noo behind the ear, and the corgi grinned up at her lovingly. “So Trevor made plans to change. Which doesn't exactly go hand in hand with someone who is depressed and wants to end his life.”

“Right. Although I have to say that it didn't look as if Trevor had exactly made up with Eleanor at the wedding. She seemed pretty remote whenever I saw her. And I thought she was trying hard to avoid Trevor most of the time,” said Meadow flatly. “She sat next to him in the sanctuary, but for all intents and purposes, there might as well have been a wall separating them. As it was, she left about a foot of space on the pew between them.”

“He had a lot to make up for, though,” said Beatrice. “I'm sure Eleanor thought that it was great for him to
want
to make amends, but she wanted to see Trevor live up to his promise before she was ready to let bygones be bygones. And maybe she wanted to punish him a little bit. It would have been only natural.”

Meadow shook her head sadly. “But then he died before he
could
make good on his promise. I wonder if she feels guilty for not spending his last night closer to him. She might even have prevented someone from tampering with his drink if she'd stayed near.”

“Unless she was the one responsible for it,” said Beatrice. “The spouse is always the first suspect the police consider.”

They quietly sipped their coffee as they considered this possibility. Beatrice snapped her fingers as she remembered something she'd wanted to ask Meadow. “Did Ramsay talk to the photographer? Did the photographer take any interesting footage that might be useful for the investigation?”

Meadow gave her a baleful look. “Nothing. Ramsay said it was the most boring footage he'd ever seen. All the photographer took were lots of close-ups of Daniel and Harper. There were no revealing photos of criminals surreptitiously putting sleeping powder in a disgraced former best man's drink.”

“Well, it
was
a wedding. He was simply doing his job. Still, it's a shame the pictures didn't give Ramsay any leads to work with,” said Beatrice.

When there was a sharp knock on the door, they both jumped. Boris and Noo-noo, startled out of their naps and, embarrassed at being caught sleeping on the job, began barking up a storm.

Beatrice peered out the window next to the door.
“Oh, it's Piper,” she said with a smile, opening up the door for her daughter.

Piper was the reason Beatrice had retired from curating at the art museum and left Atlanta for Dappled Hills. She wanted to be close to her schoolteacher daughter. She'd missed seeing Piper's unrepentant grin and twinkling gray eyes that matched Beatrice's. Her dark hair sported a pixie cut, and she wore slim-fitting jeans and a cheery yellow cotton top that emphasized her cute figure. Piper was also becoming increasingly important to Meadow because she was dating Meadow's son, Ash.

Piper gave her mother a hug and a fleeting kiss, “Figured you'd be up.” She spotted Meadow in the living room and said, “Oh, hi, Meadow! Didn't see you over there.”

Meadow raised her coffee cup in greeting. “Piper! Glad you came by. I've been wanting to catch up with you.”

Beatrice gave Piper a rueful look as they walked into the kitchen to get Piper a coffee. Ash had recently moved from the West Coast back to North Carolina to take a position teaching marine science at a local university . . . and to spend more time with Piper. Meadow was tickled pink by their relationship. Sometimes she was
too
excited about it and started wistfully talking about quilting diaper bags.

Meadow called to them from the living room. “Piper, have you had a chance to see Ash's new house? I know it's just a rental while he's getting settled here, but I think it's so cute. Don't you?”

Piper stirred cream and sugar into her coffee, and they joined Meadow. “I do think it's cute, although I
don't think that was the word Ash used to describe it.
Cozy
was how he put it.”

Meadow laughed. “It sure is. Although—and I wouldn't hurt Ash's feelings in a million years by telling him this—I think it needs a woman's touch. You know? It's sort of plain with all that white paint and cold hardwood floors.” She leaned over to pet Boris, who had laid his massive head on her foot.

Beatrice rolled her eyes at Piper.

Piper gave her a reassuring smile. She could handle Meadow well. “Oh, I don't know. There's something masculine in the sheer starkness of it.” Meadow's face fell comically, and Piper added quickly, “Although I did go yard-sale shopping with Ash to buy a few finishing touches. We found some throw rugs that looked brand-new. And a great tablecloth for his kitchen table, too. Makes the whole kitchen look so cheerful.”

Meadow beamed at her. “I can't wait to see it.”

Piper turned to her mother. “So, how's everything going with you, Mama? I meant to check in with you last night, but then I got distracted, and when I looked at the clock again, it was too late to call.”

Meadow spluttered into a chuckle. “Oh, I doubt that. That it was too late, I mean.”

Piper raised her eyebrows. “Late night? Must have been quite a party.”

Beatrice sighed. “I'm afraid not, Piper. Trevor Garber died during the reception last night.”

“What?” Piper's eyes opened wide.

“Did you know Trevor, Piper?” asked Beatrice curiously.

“Not directly, no. But one of his children, Anne, was
a friend of mine when I moved to Dappled Hills. I met her father and mother a couple of times when she and I were out getting coffee or lunch. She moved away about a year after I got here, unfortunately. I know she and her brother will be devastated—she seemed to think the world of her father. I'm sorry to hear that he passed away.”

“And your poor mother discovered him,” said Meadow. “The rest of us thought he was taking a nice little nap at the table.”

“What an awful thing to happen on their wedding day,” said Piper.

“It is, but at least it happened at the very end of the wedding, and Harper and Daniel had already left. But yes,” said Beatrice.

“And what's more, it's murder!” said Meadow, shaking her head.

At that point, Piper demanded to hear the entire story instead of having it come out in dribs and drabs. At the end, she leaned back in the cushy armchair, thinking. She said, “Were you able to sleep at all last night, Mama? What a terrible experience for you to go through!”

“Actually, I slept like a rock,” admitted Beatrice. “I think I was just exhausted from the events of the day—both good and bad.”

“Tell Piper about your mystery man,” said Meadow with an impish grin. “The one that you've got the SBI searching for now.”

“I wasn't the only person who saw him,” said Beatrice indignantly. “Savannah noticed him, too, remember? You're making it sound as if I were hallucinating.”

“What mystery man?” asked Piper. She took a long
sip of her coffee, as if she needed to be more alert to take this all in.

“I saw this man peering into the tent from the shadows,” said Beatrice. “He didn't seem to be an invited guest. What's more, I thought I recognized him. He looked like someone that Trevor had been arguing with recently.”

Piper said, “Did he have a shaggy haircut that was heavy on the gray? Deep-set eyes? Sort of a bloated look about him?”

Beatrice frowned at her daughter. “That's him. How did you know that?”

“I saw that man arguing with Trevor, too,” said Piper simply.

Meadow exclaimed, “Were you at the restaurant with Beatrice and Wyatt, too? Was I the only one in town who wasn't there?”

“No, this was only a few days ago, in downtown Dappled Hills. I was just guessing that it would be the same person, unless Trevor was making a point of having arguments with lots of people. I was in the bank parking lot, and they were arguing outside of Trevor's car. The mystery man's eyes were bulging, he was so agitated. Trevor gave the man a huge shove and hopped into his car, locked the doors, and sped off.” Piper made a throwing motion with her hand to indicate how fast Trevor drove off.

Beatrice and Meadow blinked at her.

“So, you never found out what that was all about,” said Meadow.

Piper shook her head. “And that's about all the information I have on Trevor Garber.” She shrugged.
“Sorry about that.” Then she paused. “Wait. That's not quite true.”

Meadow grinned. “You're a font of information today, Piper!”

“This is more under the category of gossipy stuff,” said Piper slowly. “Except, I guess, in a murder investigation, it's exactly the kind of thing that's relevant.”

“This is gossip you heard?” asked Beatrice.

“No, this is something I
saw
. And I didn't tell anyone about it because I didn't want to cause any trouble. But it's . . . sort of like a soap opera, I guess. A love triangle.” Piper sighed. “I felt bad for Eleanor.”