Chapter Eleven
“What?” chorused Beatrice and Wyatt.
Meadow nodded. “Yes. And it was murder. That’s all Ramsay could or would tell me about it. I probably wouldn’t even have found out that much if I hadn’t been there when he got the call. Isn’t it awful? That poor young woman.”
Wyatt nodded grimly. “It is awful. I’m sure Ramsay will get to the bottom of it soon, though. I’m sorry, but I’ve got to leave you two and head out to the church.”
“Of course,” said Meadow in that same vague voice, stepping aside to allow Wyatt to get past her.
Beatrice said, “Come on in and have a seat, Meadow. Can I get you some coffee?”
“All the coffee,” said Meadow with a sigh as she plopped down on the sofa. “I just can’t believe this is happening again.”
Beatrice brought in some mugs of coffee, sugar, an
