Murder on a Starry Night: A Queen Bees Quilt Mystery (15 page)

“Oh, Halley, dear,” Po murmured, drawing the disheveled woman into the front hall. Halley’s brown hair was loose, falling over her shoulders. A sweater was wrapped carelessly around her shoulders and her Canterbury tee shirt was half-tucked into the waist of her jeans. For a brief moment, Po thought she might have been in an accident. “Are you all right?”

Halley drew apart, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks with the back of her hand. She nodded, her throat too tight for words to pass.

“Come in,” Po said, and drew Halley through the entryway and into the warm glow of the family room lights. Eleanor brought a glass of water over to her while Po urged Halley to sit on the couch. In the distance, the sirens increased in volume, filling the night air with a strident symphony.

Kate rushed in from the back deck, her dark hair flying. “Po,” she called out, “there’s a fire somewhere. We can smell the smoke.” She stopped suddenly, spotting Halley.

“It’s Joe—” Halley said, looking up at Kate.

“Joe?” Po asked gently. The wild look in Halley’s eyes was disturbing. And now her words weren’t making sense.

Halley shook her head, as if trying to straighten her thoughts, to put them in order. “Joe’s apartment,” Halley said. Her voice was almost a whisper. “The Harrington’s garage is on fire.”

By then the rest of the Sunday supper crowd had come inside and were busying themselves in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher, talking softly, and hoping Halley could provide more information as they listened to the soft voices across the room.

“Halley, were you there?” Po said, sitting beside the distraught woman.

Halley nodded. “I went over to see if Adele would let me in Joe’s place—to get…to get some things. The police were gone by then, and I knew Adele wouldn’t wait long to throw everything out of Joe’s apartment. I wanted to salvage some things Ollie had given Joe, some things that meant a lot to Ollie and Joe. She almost threw me off the property, threatened to call the police back. Said she’d had enough bad things happen to her.”

Po handed Halley a tissue, and she continued.

“So I went back tonight, determined to not let all remnants of those two good men end in a dumpster.” A sad smile eased the tense lines outlining her face. “I knew where Joe kept a key to his place, and I decided I’d just go in and take some things. I know it’s wrong, but I didn’t care. I walked along the bushes hidden from the house, and was half-way there when I spotted the flames.”

“And then?”

“And then I was so frightened that I turned and ran in the opposite direction toward the street—I didn’t want Adele to see me. And then I…” Halley paused and seemed to be deciding what to say next. When she spoke again, her words were planned, thoughtful, careful. “Then I wandered around the neighborhood for awhile, away from the Harrington house but close enough to hear the sirens, not knowing where to go. I saw your lights, Po. And you’ve been so kind to me—”

A knock on the back door broke into the quiet room.

Max walked over to it and pushed it open for Jed Fellers, his face washed in worry. “Halley? Is she here?”

Max nodded and motioned for Jed to come in. “She’s in need of friends, I think,” he said softly and motioned toward the living area.

Jed smiled his thanks and walked over to the couch. He looked at Halley’s tear-stained face. “Are you okay, Halley? I was so worried when I got your message. I could hear those sirens all the way over on campus—but couldn’t find you.”

Halley wiped the tears from her cheek and looked up at Jed. “Jed, it was so awful. I know you told me not to go over there, that Adele would turn me away. But I had to—”

Po got up to make room for Jed on the couch. “Sit, Jed,” she said, and walked over to Max while Halley repeated the story to a distraught Jed.

“Po,” Max whispered, “P.J. and I are going to run over and check on Adele. We’ll be back shortly.”

Po nodded.

“Adele was home,” Halley was saying now. “Standing in the driveway, watching it burn. I saw her—”

And she probably saw you
, Po thought, trying to put the distressing consequences out of her mind. She sat down across from Halley and listened while she finished telling Jed how she’d run away, frightened and unsure of what to do.

Eleanor had put on a pot of tea and placed a cup down in front of Halley, along with a pot of cream. “This will warm you, dear,” she said. “Jed, I think I’ll bring you a stiff drink.”

Jed smiled his thanks.

Halley took a sip of the tea. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your party, Po. I just, well, I knew Jed was working and I didn’t know where else to go. And it was all so awful, seeing those flames.”

“Po’s door is always open, Halley,” Kate said. “This was a good choice. And you’re not interrupting anything. In fact, Po left you a message to stop by if you were hungry, but couldn’t reach you. Jed can tell you—he’s been to Sam’s Sunday suppers. Everyone is welcome.”

Jed took the drink that Eleanor handed him and smiled his thanks. “Sam’s suppers have pulled me through some lonely times in the past. And this would have been a safer place for Halley to be tonight, that’s for sure.” He looped an arm around the couch behind her. “Halley wanted to help—and also to make sure that in her grief, Adele didn’t throw away things she’d be sorry about later. But I don’t think Adele is there yet. I don’t think she can let other people in.”

Po agreed. “She’s starting to let her defenses down a little, but you’re right, Jed. It’s going to take her awhile.” Po could see the color coming back into Halley’s cheeks as they talked.

“I know I shouldn’t have gone over there,” Halley said, her voice stronger now. “Jed told me not to. He said it would only make Adele angry. But I thought she’d be reasonable.”

“You and Ollie were very close,” Kate said.

Halley nodded. “I loved him. Not in a romantic, get-married kind of way. But we had a kind of spiritual connection,” she said. “We read to each other and wrote poems together. We shared out thoughts. I’ve never been able to do that with anyone before. But Ollie was different. And he knew I appreciated that he was different and didn’t condemn him for it. And he did the same for me.”

The sound of the back door slamming announced that Max was back. He walked through the open kitchen, poured himself a cup of coffee and joined them near the fireplace. “It’s under control,” he said. “P.J. stayed on to talk with the police.”

“Police?” Po said.

“The fire wasn’t an accident,” Max said. The words were spoken carefully.

Po’s head jerked up. “They’re sure?”

Halley’s eyes filled her oval face. “Oh, no,” she murmured. One hand covered her mouth.

Jed’s arm dropped to her shoulder and he moved closer.

“Yes, they’re sure,” Max said. “It was definitely arson. But only Joe’s apartment was affected. The garage below wasn’t badly damaged. Whoever did it wasn’t very adept at lighting fires if the goal was to burn the whole estate down. The breezeway leading to the house was only mildly burned.”

“How is Adele?” Eleanor asked.

Max was quiet for a moment. He wrapped his fingers around the warm mug of coffee. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully. “Adele was certainly upset. A murder in her backyard and a fire within one single weekend is enough to shake the most stalwart of folks.”

Po listened and nodded. She couldn’t imagine what Adele must be feeling right now, and she wondered if this might be the final straw. Would Adele call it quits, sell the property, and move away to another life that didn’t include murder and fires and someone threatening her dog? She certainly couldn’t blame her if she did.

Max placed his mug on the old coffee table that filled the space between the two overstuffed sofas. He reached over to touch Halley’s hand. “Halley, this isn’t what you need tonight, but I need to tell you this.”

Halley pressed closer into Jed’s side, but she looked directly into Max’s eyes.

Po could tell that Halley wasn’t going to be surprised at what Max would say, though she was dreading the words.

“Adele told the police that she saw a woman running away from the garage,” he said. “She didn’t name you. But she described you, from your brown hair, down to your Canterbury tee shirt.”

Halley’s eyes were dry now, her face composed and her look, level and direct. “And I saw Adele, Max,” she said. “I saw her standing in the driveway as straight as an arrow, calmly staring up at the flames lapping at the side of the carriage house. That’s what I saw.”

It was Phoebe who called the impromptu meeting of the Queen Bees for Monday night. The emails went out first thing Monday morning and the tone was insistent.

Meet at Selma’s at seven tonight. Bring your quilt, your spirit, and your desire to turn our town back into a safe place for my babies!

Po wasn’t sure if it was Phoebe’s dismay at missing the excitement of Sunday night that precipitated her action— she rarely missed a Sunday dinner—or simply her big heart and desire to help Halley Peterson out of the mess she’d fallen in to.

But she knew it was more than her desire to put the finishing stitches on Adele Harrington’s quilts.

The Bees worked better with food, so Kate brought a fettuccini salad sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan cheese, fresh dill, and crisp, grilled vegetables, Po brought leftover apple pie, and Eleanor brought two chilled bottles of Chablis. While Selma plugged in the coffee pot, Po gave an abbreviated account of the fire.

“So poor Halley is under suspicion now?” she asked when Po was finished.

“Yes, but poor Halley is a strong woman under her vulnerable façade. By the time she and Jed left my house, she was composed and ready to let the police know that she was the woman Adele spotted running away—but that she had absolutely nothing to do with the fire.” Po pushed her glasses up into her hair and began taking finished blocks out of her soft carrying case. “P.J. thought that was best, and he and Jed are both going to the station with her this morning.”

“The thought of Halley trying to burn down Adele’s home is crazy,” Maggie said. “What possible reason would she have for doing that?” Maggie positioned her cutting mat, picked up her rotary cutter, and began slicing through strips of bright blue fabric for her binding.

“Be sure to use double bias binding for these quilts,” Selma said, taking a pin out of her mouth. “They’re going to be used a lot and will hold up better.”

Phoebe looked with dismay at the single binding she had begun to stitch on her quilt.

“No problem, Phoebe dear,” Selma said. “But the crib quilt will especially need it because it will get lots of washings. We can fix that in a jiffy.” She lifted the quilt from Phoebe’s hands.

Leah poured herself a cup of coffee and sat down next to Maggie. The long, thick oak table was filled with strips of binding materials in a multitude of colors. Most of the tops for the B&B quilts, as the group called them, were ready for their bindings. “The talk at the college today was all about the fire and Joe’s murder. Parents are calling, wondering if there’s a psycho on the loose. 210 Kingfish Drive is too close to the campus for comfort.”

“It’s too close to all of us for comfort,” Po said. “It’s got to stop. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s safe to walk at night, and I’ve never felt that way before in all the years I’ve lived in Crestwood.”

“Are there any leads, Kate?” Phoebe asked.

All heads turned toward Kate. As P.J.’s soul mate, she sometimes had news the papers hadn’t latched onto yet. Kate stood near the window, coffee in her hand and wearing a loose white blouse and slender jeans. The lights from the lamp posts lit streaks of red in her thick hair. Kate shook her head. “Not that P.J. has shared. But I know he’s worried because of what it’s doing to the town—and to the people involved. The longer this festers, the more damage it does to people’s lives.”

“We need to do something. This bed and breakfast is the future home of our quilts, ladies,” Phoebe said, pushing back her chair and rising to her full 4 feet 10 inches. “What are we going to do about it?”

Kate laughed at Phoebe’s gusto but admitted that she was right. “P.J. said arson cases are often helped along by people calling in tips, things they saw that night.”

Susan walked over to the iron and began pressing a binding strip. “Unfortunately what was seen was Halley. The morning news interviewed several neighbors—it was such a nice night that many people were sitting out on their porches—and the person they described seeing sounded like Halley. Apparently she wandered around the neighborhood after leaving Adele’s.”

“But if I hadn’t been at Po’s, it could have been me they saw,” Kate said. “I walk through that neighborhood all the time. This is a walking town—” She gathered her thick loose hair in one hand and pulled an elastic hair band around it, then tossed it back over her shoulder. “Halley didn’t try to burn that house down. I’m just sure of that.”

“But she was over there, trying to get inside. Why?” Phoebe asked.

Po listened and realized she’d been wondering the same thing. She hadn’t slept easily, thoughts of the burning garage and images of Joe’s body still burdening her thoughts. Halley’s reason for going over to Joe’s was logical enough on the surface, but something about it didn’t sit right. Breaking into someone’s home, even if you had a key, was a serious thing. And Halley was a smart woman. And even Jed had warned her against it, someone you’d think she’d have listened to.