Free Quilt Trip: A Southern Quilting Mystery by Elizabeth Craig Page B

it was an unpleasant one.”
    Meadow gaped and her hand flew dramatically to her chest. “Not another dead body!” She swiftly glanced around the table, counting everyone.
    “No. But when I went upstairs to put my feet up, I noticed that Muriel’s door was cracked.” Beatrice told them what she and Colton had seen.
    The meal went from quiet to completely silent as they all stared at Beatrice.
    “Wickedness! Evil!” hissed Miss Sissy, finally breaking the silence.
    Posy said in a small voice, “This means that someone plans to use the sleeping pills as a weapon? To murder someone else?”
    They all stared suspiciously at their food.
    “Or does it simply mean that someone has trouble sleeping and wants a sounder night’s sleep?” Alexandra asked tartly.
    Winnie let out a short laugh. “Why would anyone want to sleep soundly in this house? With a murderer afoot—according to Beatrice.” She twisted her napkin anxiously, though, as if she, too, took the accusation seriously.
    Holly’s eyes were large. “Beatrice, did you make any progress with your interviews? I know you haven’t spoken to me yet.”
    “If you don’t mind, I’ll talk with you after supper. Then, yes, that’s it for the interviews,” Beatrice said.
    “Get any clues?” Dot asked. “Think you can track this person down?”
    Beatrice said carefully, “It’s really too early to say.”
    Winnie pushed her plate away with a thin hand. “I’ve lost my appetite.”
    Miss Sissy launched herself at the remains of her meal.

Chapter Seven
     
    Holly, Beatrice decided, was a very likable sort of person. She had an open face with wide eyes that made you think she was hanging on your every word.
    “I can’t believe someone would do something like this,” Holly said to Beatrice. “Muriel seemed like such a nice person. I wish I could have gotten to know her better.” Her face was wistful.
    “So you’re someone who
didn’t
know Muriel well,” Beatrice said thoughtfully. “Like Meadow, Posy, Miss Sissy, and me. But, unlike you, we weren’t invited. Muriel actually
invited
you here. And she appears to have had a personal connection with everyone else.”
    Holly knitted her brows. “Not Dot Giles, though, right?”
    “They knew each other from their quilting guild,” Beatrice said. “They’d known each other for years and apparently there was bad blood between them.”
    Holly gazed steadily at Beatrice.
    “What I’m trying to figure out,” said Beatrice, “is whether you had a personal connection with Muriel Starnes.”
    Holly twirled a strand of red hair around her finger. “I think she invited me because I’m a quilter and she was interested in possibly having my guild administer the scholarship for her foundation.”
    Beatrice paused, then said carefully, “I’m afraid this house is a difficult place to find any privacy in. Last night I did hear you in tears after a conversation with Muriel.”
    Holly looked back up at Beatrice. “I did have an emotional conversation with Muriel. But I’m not ready to talk about it yet. It didn’t have anything to do with her murder, if that’s what you’re wondering. And as I mentioned before, the first time I’d met Muriel was yesterday.”
    Beatrice decided it would be better not to press her too hard. “After you turned in last night, did you see or hear anything?”
    Holly was thoughtful for a minute. Then she regretfully shook her head. “Sorry. No. Since I was rooming with Dot, I plugged my ears up with my headphones and listened to music while I slept. So I’m afraid I’m no help at all. I did get up once to go use the restroom, but I didn’t see or hear anything while I was up.” She sighed. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do tonight. I have a feeling that my music player has a dead battery now.”
    “You could still sleep with the headphones on, couldn’t you?” asked Beatrice. “That would help muffle any sounds at least.”
    Holly brightened. “That’s a great