Tying the Knot (6 page)

Beatrice and Meadow exchanged glances.

Beatrice asked, “Did you spot Trevor and Lyla Wales together, perhaps?”

Meadow put her hand to her face. “Oh goodness. I just remembered. Eleanor signed up for that quilting workshop that Lyla's teaching. Oh dear. I wonder if she signed up only to make trouble for Lyla.”

Piper said, “Am I the last person in town to know about their relationship? I thought I was the only one who knew. Wow—they must not have been very careful about keeping it under wraps.”

“No, you're not the last person to know it. Actually, we hadn't confirmed that they had a relationship until you brought this up. Meadow and I saw Trevor trying to talk to Lyla, and Lyla furiously trying to get rid of him,” said Beatrice.

But Beatrice also remembered what she'd heard Lyla say to Trevor after they'd discovered his body:
Why couldn't we have loved each other at the same time?
That had confirmed a relationship right then.

“They were embracing. In a car,” said Piper. “I'd gone up the Blue Ridge Parkway for a hike on this gorgeous Sunday. And there they were, at the top of the mountain, at the lookout. As soon as I recognized them, I slipped away before they could see me. I wanted to avoid the embarrassing situation, so I escaped.”

“It sounds as if the relationship was over,” said Beatrice thoughtfully. “Lyla certainly didn't want anything to do with Trevor when we heard her arguing with him at the Patchwork Cottage.”

Piper gaped at her. “At the Patchwork Cottage? So they'd gotten that sloppy about keeping the relationship quiet?”

Meadow said, “No, it was
Trevor
who had gotten sloppy. He was the one who was seeking Lyla out in a public place and in front of everyone.”

“Maybe Lyla ended the relationship and Trevor didn't want it to be over,” said Beatrice. “Could that have played into his unusual behavior over the past few months?” She remembered that Ramsay had suggested something similar.

“Unrequited love,” said Meadow, clasping her hands together. “I guess it ruined him. He started drinking, carousing, getting more and more daring about contacting Lyla.”

“Everything must have seemed as if it were in a downward spiral. Lyla probably didn't want her comfortable lifestyle with her husband disrupted,” agreed Beatrice. “Especially considering that we know Trevor was also having financial problems.”

Piper frowned. “Eleanor and Trevor were having financial problems? Where did you hear this? I would
never have dreamed that. They've got a big house and nice cars and always seem so well dressed.”

“That's the point,” said Meadow, slapping her leg and making Noo-noo wake with a start. “They've got too many nice things. It sounds like they didn't spend their money wisely.”

“Or, to be fair, they
had
money to spend on the cars and the house and the clothes, but then Trevor mismanaged their money and it disappeared,” said Beatrice. “Lyla told me that Eleanor had informed her that Trevor had lost money on a lot of bad investments.”

Piper gave a low whistle. “Y'all are full of news this morning. And here I thought I was coming over for a quiet visit.”

Meadow peered hopefully at Piper. “You could perhaps share news of your own today.”

“I have news?”

“Well, not news, per se, but maybe information. I don't think Ash wants me visiting his house again in the very near future because he thought . . . ahh . . . that I was trying to be an interior designer there.”

Piper smiled at Meadow, eyes dancing. “So, you want me to give you the scoop on the changes we made to it?”

“Please,” said Meadow, dragging her chair closer as Piper described the rugs and tablecloths and other things they'd found at the yard sales.

The next day, Beatrice received an early-morning phone call from Wyatt. “Beatrice? I was wondering if you'd like to grab breakfast with me. And, well, I had one other thing to do before breakfast and before going to the office. Harper and Daniel came back into town late last night. The SBI and Ramsay have already talked to them. On the phone, Harper sounded understandably upset.”

“I'm sure she must be,” said Beatrice, wincing a little.

“Would you mind running by there with me before breakfast? It shouldn't be a long visit,” said Wyatt.

“I'll be ready in ten minutes,” said Beatrice.

Harper and Daniel's new house they'd bought together had an unfinished feel about it that was exacerbated by the fact that their suitcases were still at the bottom of the stairs from the night before. Both Harper and Daniel had circles under their eyes and tense faces.

“Were you able to get any sleep at all last night?”
asked Beatrice sympathetically. She and Wyatt gave both of them hugs.

Daniel shook his head. “Not a wink. As soon as we got back into town, the police came over. After they left, Harper and I started talking, and I don't think we stopped until two this morning. We tried to sleep then, but I think we were both tossing and turning.”

“Who could have done such a thing?” asked Harper tearfully. “Especially during a wedding, of all times. Trevor was dealing with some personal issues, but he certainly didn't deserve to be murdered.”

Daniel said in a flat voice, “I blame myself for this. I'm the one who created this situation.”

“It wasn't your fault,” said Wyatt steadily. “Whatever stress was present between the two of you was a separate issue.”

Daniel nodded but glanced away, as if he couldn't look Wyatt in the eyes. Was he hiding something? Or simply feeling guilty that his wedding factored indirectly into Trevor's death? “I still say it might have been an accident,” he said gruffly.

“An accident?” asked Beatrice.

“Maybe Trevor didn't realize how much sleeping-pill powder he was putting in his drink. Maybe he thought it would help him relax,” said Daniel.

Harper reached over and squeezed his knee. “Daniel, Ramsay and the SBI are pursuing the idea that it wasn't self-inflicted. Remember? He said Eleanor told him that Trevor didn't have a prescription for sleeping pills. Besides, I doubt most people would grind their pills up and add them to a beverage.”

“Right, right,” Daniel said, rubbing the side of his
head as if it were throbbing. “I forgot. Lack of sleep, I guess.” He glanced at his watch and said ruefully, “And now I've got to get to court. My forgetfulness doesn't sound promising for my client, does it?”

Harper stood up, “Let me give you a coffee refill to take with you.”

In a few minutes, Daniel had left, still looking deeply absorbed in his thoughts.

Harper said with a short laugh, “I'm not starting out my married life as a very good hostess, am I? Can I get you two something to eat or drink?”

Wyatt said, “No, thanks, Harper. Beatrice and I are actually going to get some breakfast when we leave here. We're trying to work in some time to visit with each other.” He turned to Beatrice. “By the way, I'm afraid the funeral for Trevor is probably going to impact our lunch plans for Wednesday. That's when Eleanor is planning for the funeral, and I'm going to be officiating.”

“Of course,” murmured Beatrice. “I'll see you at the funeral, then. Maybe you can come by my house for a glass of wine afterward.” She was definitely planning on being at Trevor's funeral. Who knew? Perhaps she'd see the mysterious man there and get another chance to identify him.

“I'll need to check with Daniel to make sure that he clears his schedule for Wednesday, if he's not in court,” said Harper absently. “He and I should both be at the funeral. I feel so terrible about all of this. I called Eleanor as soon as the police left last night. It was very late, but I knew she'd be up. And she was. She sounded absolutely worn-out and sad . . . but rather matter-of-fact.”

Harper paused. “Have you heard if Ramsay has any leads? Anyone that he's pursuing as a suspect?”

Beatrice said, “I haven't spoken with Ramsay, but Meadow has, of course. I got a little information from her. But a lot of it seems like hearsay right now.”

Harper gave her a sharp look. “Hearsay? About what?”

Beatrice stared at her in surprise. It was almost as if she thought she might know the gossip. “Well, the usual kind, I guess. About Trevor and another woman.”

Harper seemed to relax. “I see. I'm sorry to hear that. I didn't know anything about Trevor having an affair. I hope Eleanor didn't know. She's had enough to deal with lately. And now this on top of it.” Harper shook her head.

“What has Eleanor had to deal with?” asked Beatrice.

Harper hesitated. “I shouldn't probably say, because it could create a problem for Eleanor. In fact, I was going to call you this morning, Wyatt, and ask your opinion on whether or not I should share this with Ramsay. It's just that Eleanor and Trevor had been having financial problems. Eleanor and I are friends but not
especially
close, but I guess she thought I was someone she could confide in. Which makes my telling others about it feel even worse. I don't think Eleanor has a lot of friends—she's the kind of person who keeps to herself.”

Beatrice cleared her throat. “If it helps at all, I've actually already heard from someone else that they were in financial difficulty. Although I didn't really get any details.”

“Oh.” Harper considered this. “Then I do feel better
about talking about it. She and Trevor had a good deal of debt to contend with, and they weren't really working on it. They had a sizable mortgage and car payments, and a few credit cards that were maxed out. Eleanor had even been looking at returning to work. She'd been talking to the bank about the possibility of her working there, even as a teller. They really needed that extra income.”

“Did Eleanor say why they'd gotten into that situation?” asked Beatrice.

“She said that Trevor had made some bad investments in the stock market. That he'd thought he could be a day trader in his spare time. Eleanor was actually pretty caustic when she was talking about Trevor. She felt he'd put them in a terrible position by experimenting with something he didn't know anything about. So, basically, he lost their nest egg, but he also lost the money they used to supplement Trevor's regular income,” said Harper.

Wyatt said, “They must have really been worried. That can't be a good feeling to be in a hole like that.”

“I think that Eleanor was worried, yes. But she said that Trevor always had other things on his mind. Plus, Eleanor said he never liked owning up to his mistakes,” said Harper.

Beatrice asked slowly, “Do you think the financial situation is better now, with Trevor's death?” She said, “Although it's hard to think it would be, considering that they depended on Trevor's income, and now that will be ending.”

“As a matter of fact, that was one of the first things
Eleanor said after she'd thanked me for calling her last night, and after I told her how sorry I was that this had happened. She said, ‘Well, at least this financial mess is finally over. I can take the money from Trevor's life-insurance policy and pay off the outstanding bills. Then I'll sell Trevor's car.' Eleanor had it all planned out, and it sounded very organized. She'd get rid of the debt, sell off assets like the car and the house, move into a small place, and start working again, living on her own income.” Harper looked thoughtfully out the window as she repeated what Eleanor had told her.

Beatrice said, “It does sound very organized and practical. But that's how I see Eleanor in general—that seems like her personality.”

Harper nodded. “It is. I know it might sound suspicious to Ramsay or the state police, which is why I hesitated to mention it—they'll think that Trevor's death so nicely solved Eleanor's problems that she was the one who was behind it. But I think she's working through a problem in a meticulous way. I think she's being smart. I just have the feeling the police won't see it the same way—that's all.”

Beatrice said, “At the wedding, I'm sure it was all a blur—at least, that's how I remember my own wedding day years ago. A blur of well-wishers and food and cake cutting. But did you happen to see if Eleanor was anywhere near Trevor's drink? Or, I guess, near Trevor much at all?”

Harper said ruefully, “Eleanor was certainly trying to avoid Trevor—that's for sure. That much I picked up on. I did spot Trevor sitting by himself quite a bit at the table.” She paused. “At one point I did look over there
and think, Oh good. Eleanor and Trevor are talking
.
And that was it. I didn't notice her putting anything in his drink, but I did see the two of them together at one point during the evening.” She made a face. “I guess that won't sound good to the police, either.”

“And I guess Eleanor should think about what she says,” said Beatrice. “Telling people that Trevor's death is taking care of their financial mess isn't exactly putting her in a good light.”

Harper sighed. “No, it's not. Although I don't really feel that I know her well enough to tell her that. Maybe I can hint at it when I go there—I need to return the vases I borrowed from her for the wedding. She did a lovely job with the arrangements.”

“A woman of many talents,” said Wyatt.

“Eleanor has a great eye for arrangements and has been doing them on the side for a few years now—I think that was a way for them to get some extra income. Maybe she could kick that into high gear now,” said Harper.

Beatrice said, “I'll take those vases back for you, if you'd like.” She gestured at the suitcase and the boxes still on the floor and the empty walls. “You've got things to do here. Moving is tough enough without having to run so many errands. And let me know if there's anything else I can do. I don't mind unpacking boxes or putting things up on the walls.”

Wyatt smiled at her. “I have the feeling that your curating experience puts you in the expert category at decorating.”

“Well, walls and display tables, anyway,” said Beatrice dryly.

“If you wouldn't mind,” said Harper slowly, “I really would appreciate it. They're kind of heavy, though.”

Wyatt said, “I'll load them into Beatrice's car when I'm dropping her off home after breakfast. And, Beatrice, call me before you go to Eleanor's, and I'll help you unload them.”

“Meadow mentioned that she wanted to pay a visit on Eleanor, so how about if I get her to help me this time?” Beatrice was pretty sure that when she'd glimpsed the church calendar online, this week had been pretty full. Wyatt had thought his schedule would ease up after Harper and Daniel's wedding, but it looked as if the calendar had filled up in the meantime. And that was before a funeral had been added to it.

Harper smiled at her. “Thanks, Beatrice. That's a huge help. Once I get a few things put away here, I'll feel a lot more at home, I think. Plus, I need to make some progress before Lyla has that quilting workshop. I offered to help out with that. And I guess after that is the spring festival. It just doesn't stop. I clearly wasn't thinking about the fact that I was going to be in the process of moving! Are you going to help out with the workshop, too?”

“Posy asked me if I could,” said Beatrice. “I like the idea of introducing quilting to a new generation of quilters, so I told her I'd help the new quilters. Although I really still feel like a new quilter myself.”

Harper said, “Oh, believe me—that feeling never really goes away. I think I learn something new every time I'm with other quilters. And when I'm around a quilter like Miss Sissy, I immediately feel like a novice.”

Beatrice and Wyatt made their good-byes and headed off to the restaurant, vases in the backseat. Beatrice consumed most of the huge pancake, egg, and bacon breakfast she'd ordered, while trying very hard to focus on Wyatt and not think about the murder. When she thought Wyatt seemed to be on the verge of talking about the murder, Beatrice quickly said, “I desperately need you to share your secret with me.”

“Secret?” asked Wyatt with a quizzical smile.

“That's right. The secret of how you manage to stay so patient in a job that must demand a lot of it. You might have noticed that patience is a virtue that I'm trying—and failing—to cultivate.” Her eyes smiled at him as she took a sip of her coffee.

“It's not so hard. I remind myself that each member of the congregation is special in some way. If I think about their gifts and if I can treat situations with humor, then I can handle just about everything.”

Beatrice said, “But you must encounter some situations where you really wonder what you've gotten yourself into, right?”

Wyatt grinned. “You mean like when Miss Sternbough-Collins led a petition that insisted we get new large-print hymnals? And then we discovered they were so thick that they wouldn't fit in the pew racks?”

He was, in his kind way, trying to change the subject by telling gently funny stories of various characters who'd been in his congregation over the years. He was clearly genuinely fond of them despite some of their oddities (several of them made Miss Sissy appear normal in comparison), and Beatrice laughed out loud at
one point when he told of a particular disastrous wedding he'd officiated. The groom had had cold feet at the very last minute, delaying the start of the ceremony for a good twenty minutes. A guest had had a choking fit at the reception and had to have the Heimlich maneuver applied by the DJ. To top it all off, the couple's car hadn't started when they were ready to leave for their honeymoon. Wyatt had Beatrice laughing out loud.