Knot A Clue

Chapter One Beatrice smiled as Wyatt opened the door to the backyard and came toward her with a tray holding a couple of plates heaped with breakfast food and coffees, setting them on the round table in front of her. “Can we do this every morning?” she murmured as she saw the scrambled eggs, sausage, and pancakes. Wyatt chuckled. “I’m not sure I’ll be that motivated.” “Then I’ll make sure to especially enjoy this,” said Beatrice, digging into her food. It was early fall and the yard was still beautiful from the summer. The air was cool but not chilly and Beatrice was wearing a light sweater. Wyatt had woken especially early to get ready to go to the church office and make breakfast, and it was only a little after seven now. The sun was just rising and the whole backyard glowed with early-morning light. “Mm, this is all wonderful,” said Beatrice. “Is the food from the farmer’s market?” “It’s all farm-to-table, locally-sourced, and organic.” Wyatt grinned at her. They sat quietly outside, enjoying the sounds of the birds chirping at the feeders, the smell of their food and coffees, and the sun creeping over the lawn. “What does your day look like?” asked Beatrice lazily. “Anything big going on?” “It should be pretty quiet. No hospital visits. Nothing planned on the calendar. I’m hoping I can get some work done on my sermon.” Beatrice quirked an eyebrow at him. “From what I remember, you’re about a month ahead on your sermons. Maybe two.” Wyatt was a Presbyterian minister, the third generation in his family to preach at his church, Dappled Hills Presbyterian. His serious work ethic occasionally made Beatrice sigh, but she knew what a wonderful impact he made on their community. And she loved the church and its congregation. It was the kind of place where, when you walked in, you felt at home. Wyatt was much of the reason why you did. Wyatt grinned at her, eyes crinkling in the way she loved. “Just the same, I like to have a little bit of a buffer. You know, in case anything comes up.” Beatrice finished one of the sausage links and took a sip of her coffee. “That’s very optimistic of you, thinking that something exciting might come up. Lately, our excitement has consisted of winning at Scrabble with Meadow and Ramsay and introducing Will to grits.” Wyatt smiled again at the memory. Their grandbaby, Will, had decided that grits were a lot more interesting than he’d first thought. “Well, I guess excitement in Dappled Hills is relative.” He gave Beatrice a curious look. “You don’t ever pine for everything you used to do in Atlanta? Concerts, shows? Fancy restaurants?” Beatrice had retired as an art museum curator in the big city to move to the mountain village of Dappled Hills; at the time, to be closer to her daughter, Piper. It was here that she met and married Wyatt. “Not a bit,” she said firmly. Beatrice’s phone rang and she frowned as she glanced at it. “That’s Piper.” She glanced at her watch. “She should be at school now.” She quickly answered the phone. “Oh, Mama,” said Piper miserably, “something awful has happened.” “Not Will.” Beatrice’s voice was hoarse and she felt a cold shudder of fear move up her spine as she thought of the baby. “Oh no, no,” said Piper hastily. “Will is absolutely fine. He’s with Meadow this morning. It’s just . . . someone murdered Petunia Murray.” Beatrice remembered Piper mentioning Petunia before. “She’s one of the teachers at the elementary school, isn’t she?” Piper used to also teach at the elementary school, but since her son was born, she was working in the office to have fewer hours. Meadow and Beatrice watched Will some days and picked him up from church preschool on others. “Yes.” Her voice became very quiet. “I found her at her desk, slumped over, right before all the kids came in. It looked like someone had hit her over the head with a globe.” Beatrice stood up and Wyatt did, too, worried furrows on his forehead. “Are you okay? Can I come pick you up?” Piper said, “Could you, Mama? I’m so shaky right now that I don’t think I can drive. The principal called school off for the day so the state police can do their forensic work and they shut down the carpool line and turned around the buses before any of the kids came into the school. Ash can bring me back later to get the car.” “I’ll be right there,” said Beatrice swiftly. She gave Wyatt an apologetic look, but he was already gathering the plates and cups. She quickly filled him in. “Don’t worry about this; I’ll clean it all up,” he said. “Is Piper all right? Do you need me to come with you?” “It sounds like she’s just really shaken up. And no, but thanks. You head on over to the office and leave the dishes in the sink—I’ll take care of them later.” Beatrice grabbed her car keys, gave her corgi a reassuring rub, and hurried out the door. The elementary school was nestled in the middle of a neighborhood and was surrounded by old oaks and flowering shrubs. It was hard to believe a crime would happen at such a cozy place. The school had stood in the same spot for a hundred years. The oaks fanned their branches into others, creating a leafy canopy. There was a large rock in front of the school with dozens of elementary-aged handprints scattered on it. It felt like a safe, protected place. And now, the blue lights of police cars were indicating that it wasn’t. Beatrice pulled into a parking spot across the street from the school since the police had already blocked off the school’s parking lots with police tape. Ramsay Downey, Dappled Hills chief of police, as well as a friend to Beatrice and father-in-law to Piper, walked up to Beatrice when he spotted her getting closer to the school. He was short and balding and looking increasingly tired of police work, but carried himself with a quiet authority. “I’m glad you’re here,” he said grimly. “I was going to call you myself if Piper didn’t. She definitely could use a ride home. She can get her vehicle later when she’s a little steadier on her feet. Piper had quite a shock.” “Of course.” Beatrice watched as more state police officers entered the building. “What on earth happened, Ramsay?” He shook his head. “We’re just trying to figure it out. Piper identified the victim as Petunia Murray, a teacher at the school.” Beatrice nodded. “That’s what she told me. And Piper discovered her, she said?” “Along with another teacher. Thank goodness they did. It would have been awful for the kids to find their teacher like that.” “And it wasn’t an accident? At least, Piper didn’t seem to think so.” Ramsay looked grim. “Afraid not. Nothing accidental about getting bashed over your head with a globe while you’re sitting at a desk. And if you could keep the murder weapon quiet, I’d appreciate it.” He glanced behind Beatrice. “Looks like the state police are finished getting a statement from Piper.” Piper walked up to them. Her pixie haircut was askew as if she’d been running her hands through her hair. And the cheery, bright sweater she’d worn to school only emphasized her paleness from the shock that morning. Beatrice slipped an arm around her to give her a quick hug and Piper gave her a tight hug back. “You doing all right, Piper?” asked Ramsay. Piper took a deep, steadying breath. “I think I’m a little better now. It was just such a shock, you know? I was walking by the classroom and thought I’d stick my head in to say good morning. Petunia has always been at the school early and has always been friendly to me.” She swiftly swiped her eyes and took another deep breath. “And you said you saw someone coming out of the classroom as you were going in,” said Ramsay. “I spoke to him a few minutes ago and I think our state guys are with him now.” Beatrice frowned. “You weren’t the first person in there? I thought you’d discovered Petunia.” Piper said, “We both did. But Fletcher was there just a second or two in front of me, I guess. That’s what he told me. He’s our gym teacher.” She nodded toward the building. “He’s coming out now.” Ramsay was motioned over by one of the state policemen. “I’ll talk with you soon.” “I think Fletcher is our new neighbor,” said Beatrice, peering closer at the man as he came over. “I haven’t had a chance to introduce myself yet.” Fletcher was in his 30s with a square jawline. He wore a baseball cap with the elementary school logo on it and sported a whistle around his neck. Piper waved to him and Fletcher walked their way somewhat reluctantly. “You hanging in there?” Fletcher asked Piper gruffly. She quickly nodded and introduced Beatrice to Fletcher. “Good to meet you,” he said absently as he turned to watch more forensic investigators enter the school. Piper said, “Do you have any idea what happened, Fletcher?” Fletcher shook his head. A muscle tightened in his jaw. “No idea. I was just as shocked as you were. I was on my way to lock the door so no kids could walk in when you showed up.” He shrugged, helplessly. “She was already gone when I saw her.” There was a pause and Beatrice said, “I was so sorry to hear about Petunia. Piper, I know you’ve spoken about her from time to time, but I can’t really place her. Could you tell me more about her?” Piper said, “The kids all seemed to love her.” She took another shaky breath. “They’re just going to be devastated. She was petite and blonde and wore fun, bright clothes. When they did crafts, she put on this adorable apron with cats on them. And Mama, you probably would recognize her from the church.” Fletcher nodded and said, a bit more briefly, “She was very nice.” Beatrice noticed there was a tinge of color under Fletcher’s skin and wondered if he might have thought Petunia was more than nice. Beatrice said carefully, “Such a horrible way to find her. And to start out your morning.” There was a subtle, unspoken question there and Fletcher still seemed too distracted to really engage in any conversational subterfuge. “It was just a normal morning up until that point,” he said a bit gruffly. “I got ready, watched the news and weather, and then headed off to school. Thought I’d stick my head in to say good morning to Petunia.” He stopped and then started again. “At first, I couldn’t tell what was wrong. I thought she’d maybe fallen back asleep at her desk, although she’s always seemed like a morning person. Then I realized how awkward she looked.” He turned to Piper. “And then you came in.” Piper nodded miserably. “I was doing the same as you—just stopping by to say hi to her.” Her voice grew low since there were still some parents hovering around to try to find out news. Beatrice noticed that the muscle in Fletcher’s jaw twitched again. “There’s no way that was a natural death. Somebody had it in for her.” “But who?” Piper shook her head, a bewildered expression on her face. “It just doesn’t make any sense. Who would do something like that to a sweet elementary school teacher?” Fletcher pressed his lips together. Then he said, “I’m not saying I know anything. All I know is that I suspect things.” Piper leaned in. “Was someone upset with Petunia?” He shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. But I do know Sterling Wade was very interested in Petunia. Romantically, that is.” “But she didn’t feel the same?” asked Beatrice. “Definitely not,” said Fletcher dismissively. “She was way out of his league. Not that Sterling was intuitive enough to pick up on that. He was completely obsessed with her. I was going to have words with the principal about it, actually because I didn’t think it was healthy for a school environment to have a fifth-grade teacher batting his eyes at another teacher. It certainly wasn’t professional of him. He was always sort of lurking around Petunia. I thought it was really inappropriate. I mean, it’s one thing if you’re romantically pursuing someone after school hours, but it’s another if it’s while you’re at work.” Beatrice said, “Especially if he wasn’t being encouraged to do so.” “Exactly. Petunia was just being way too nice to him. I told her she should just tell him she wasn’t interested.” “But she wouldn’t?” asked Beatrice. “She didn’t want to hurt his feelings,” said Fletcher with a short laugh. “That’s the kind of person she was.” He glanced at his watch. “I’d better run. I’d texted my wife to let her know what happened and she’s been texting me and I really need to fill her in. Later.” He strode briskly off, gym whistle bobbing as he went. Piper looked after him, brow puckered. “You know, we should probably leave too, Mama. Maybe you could swing by Meadow’s house and I could pick the baby up and bring him back home?” Beatrice said, “Now, Piper, why do you want to do that? You’re still looking pretty shaky. I think it would be best if you and I go grab some breakfast somewhere. Maybe at June Bug’s bakery? You might feel better after some coffee and one of her bacon, egg, and cheese biscuits. Besides, you know how Meadow loves spending time with Will. That will give her the chance to get her baby fix before you take him back home. Or, better yet, you go home after breakfast and put your feet up while Meadow watches him.” “You’re right. I could use the break and I don’t think Meadow would appreciate me pulling the plug on her time with Will yet. Plus, I really should get back in touch with Ash and give him an update on what happened.” Piper was fumbling with her phone as they walked slowly to Beatrice’s car. On the way, Georgia, a fellow member of the Village Quilters guild and a teacher at the school, hurried to join them. Georgia’s pretty face was pale and her eyes cloudy as she looked at Piper. “Oh, Piper, I heard you were the one who found Petunia. I’m so sorry!” She gave her friend a quick hug. Piper said, “Fletcher and I were the first ones on the scene. I feel awful for Petunia. She was so young and such a hard worker. I thought she was really good for the kids, too. They thought she was amazing. They’re going to miss her so much.” She swallowed hard. Georgia nodded, her sweet features worried. “And she was doing so well despite the fact it was her first year at the school. I just can’t believe this happened.” She turned to Beatrice. “And you knew her too, didn’t you? From church?” Beatrice stopped walking. “Piper mentioned the same thing, that she went to our church.” She flushed. “I’m terrible at names, but in my defense, it’s tough when there are so many active members of the congregation.” Piper said, “And she was new here, so she hasn’t been attending for very long.” Beatrice said slowly, “Piper, you mentioned she was blonde with colorful clothes. You know, I do think I’ve seen someone like that with Dora maybe.” Dora was an uber-volunteer at the church—one of those women that the church absolutely depended on to keep running smoothly each week. She was also organizing a quilt show with Beatrice, although Dora was putting in most of the work. Georgia’s phone rang and she glanced at the screen. “My phone is blowing up with all my parents calling me. I’d better head back home and start calling folks back. See you two later.” And she headed off to the bike rack where her bicycle was kept.