Free 2 Knot What It Seams by Elizabeth Craig Page B

home! He wasn’t home! Lies!” She lifted her gnarled fists and shook them at Booth’s back as he walked into the parking lot with the older ladies.
    Beatrice said, “When wasn’t he home, Miss Sissy?”
    “Before the quilt show. He wasn’t there!”
    Miss Sissy was sputtering out now and was distracted by the removal of the quilt that Jo’s husband, Glen, had laid on Jo’s coffin during the graveside service. Apparently, he was planning to take it back home with him in commemoration of the day.
    “I think,” said Wyatt slowly, “that today has tired Miss Sissy out a bit. I’m going to go ahead and drive her back home so that she can put her feet up for a while.”
    “Lies,” muttered Miss Sissy.
    As they walked away, Beatrice said, “But Booth Grayson was at the show. He came in with Posy and Miss Sissy. I remember laughing about it at the time, because I knew Miss Sissy must have been sitting up in the front seat and supervising Posy’s driving. It would have been a wild ride for Booth in the backseat with a madwoman muttering in the front. He was there, so at some point he must have been home for them to have picked him up.”
    Meadow gave a good-natured shrug. “Who knows what Miss Sissy was fussing about? She’s forever making these dire, cryptic proclamations. We’ll have to catch up with Posy later and see if she can give us any insight. Miss Sissy might be talking about something that happened a month ago, for all we know.”
    She guessed so. But still, it made you wonder. She’d have to remember to tell Ramsay about it.

Chapter 6
    Meadow dropped Beatrice back home for a few hours before they set out for Glen’s house with Beatrice’s sandwiches and Meadow’s frozen chicken casserole. Meadow had apparently had a nap over the afternoon and was in a very perky mood. This perkiness would have been unbearable if she hadn’t been offering some information, too. “Ramsay said that the state police found no other evidence of murder. So Jo hadn’t been attacked or poisoned or strangled, or drowned, or . . .”
    “Got it,” said Beatrice drily.
    “But Ramsay said the reasonable conclusion drawn from the Jeep’s being tampered with is that Jo was the one targeted. It wasn’t Glen’s vehicle and Glen wasn’t known to drive it. He always drives his truck. So it wasn’t as if someone sneaked under the Jeep that morning and thought that Glen was going to be the one to die.”
    “I only really saw Glen for a few minutes at the quilt show and then a minute at the funeral. What’s he like?” asked Beatrice.
    “Well, for one thing, he’s very well educated,” said Meadow. “Ramsay used to hang out with him at the auto repair shop and they’d discuss literature.”
    Beatrice said, “Really? That’s a little unusual for a mechanic, isn’t it?”
    “Both of his parents were teachers, so he was exposed to a lot of culture through them. He went to college, too. But his parents had always encouraged him to go into whatever interested him—and he was interested in cars. The only bad thing is that when he lost his job as a mechanic, he really didn’t have the experience to do anything else. He had the education , but not the experience. And, at his age, when he’s knocking on the door of middle age, experience is really what matters for an office job.”
    Studying Glen at his house a few minutes later, Beatrice knew that he was the most likely candidate to be Jo’s murderer. The police usually considered the victim’s spouse to be the primary suspect. But Beatrice found it hard to imagine that he had anything to do with his wife’s death. He was tall, but slightly hunched over as if always bending down to hear what you had to say. He had deep smile lines around his mouth and little ones around his eyes and a generally amiable disposition. He quickly took the dishes out of their hands, then gave them a hug. His eyes were sad.
    “Thanks so much for bringing the food over, ladies. It’s