Before Abby could decide on a safe response to that comment, Allison continued talking. “Would you mind coming back to the house for a few minutes? I promise I won’t keep you long. You’re on my list of people I need to talk to, but I’d rather not hang out here on the sidewalk in case those lovely ladies decide to cruise by again.”
“Sure, why not?” Especially considering Abby had questions for Allison, too, not to mention she’d love to get a peek inside Dolly’s house. “Unless you mind Zeke coming inside, too. I don’t want to leave him alone.”
“He’s a good-looking dog.” Allision immediately held her hand out to let Zeke sniff it. She smiled when he gave it a sloppy lick. “Having him come with us won’t be a problem. My aunt wouldn’t have approved and neither would her friends, but it’s my place now.”
As they walked the short distance back to the house, Abby studied her companion. Allison looked to be a few years older than Abby was, maybe just a year or two past forty. There was an air of no-nonsense about the woman. She had on a plain white T-shirt with jeans and wore her dark blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. With no makeup and the simple gold studs in her ears, she wouldn’t have stood out in any crowd.
She opened the front door and stood back to let Abby and Zeke walk inside and then ushered them into the living room. “Have a seat. Like I said, I won’t take much of your time, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
Abby couldn’t imagine why, but it was too late now. Bracing herself for the worst, she waited until she was seated on the couch before asking, “What can I do for you?”
Allison perched on the edge of an uncomfortable-looking chair. “First, I wanted to say I’m sorry that bunch of old hens tore into you after I ran them off. They had no right to take their anger out on you.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“Maybe not, but I still feel bad about it.” Allison shrugged. “Anyway, Gage stopped by to make sure I was all right just after you escaped their evil clutches.”
“And were you okay?”
“For the most part, yeah.” She leaned back in her chair and sighed. “All of this has been a major upheaval in my life. My aunt and I weren’t really close, and the last thing I expected was to be named the executrix in her will. You would’ve thought she might have had the courtesy to ask me first, but that was Aunt Dolly for you.” Her expression turned more serious. “I’m guessing her death has been hard on you, too. That whole mess must have been awful.”
What could Abby say to that? She settled on the truth. “It was really horrible. No one expects to have something like that happen or knows how to deal with it when it does.”
Allison pinched the bridge of her nose as if fighting a headache. “I know the police are doing everything they can to figure out who did it. But to be honest, I’m not holding out much hope. From what I’ve been told, Gage Logan has a solid reputation in police circles, but they always say the longer a murder goes unsolved, the less chance they’ll find out who did it. According to what they told me, she’d already been dead for several months when you found her. Again, it’s just a real shame you got sucked into this mess.”
“It wasn’t your fault, much less Dolly’s.”
That was true on both counts.
Allison’s concern seemed sincere, though, spurring Abby to ask a few questions of her own. “Has it been hard for you to deal with everything? Have those ladies been bothering you a lot?”
“Yes, on both counts. I had to take a personal leave from my job to deal with everything involved in settling the estate. I work in the office at one of the big apple orchards over in eastern Washington. They promised to hold my job for me as long as they can.”
“That’s good. I know from personal experience that settling an estate can get complicated, especially if not everyone is happy with the terms of the will or trust.”
Which was true. Aunt Sybil’s late husband had two cousins who thought the house should have stayed in their family. Fortunately, the attorney who had set up the trust had made darn sure it was rock solid. In an effort to appease them, Abby had made arrangements to ship them, at her own expense, the pieces of furniture that Sybil had wanted them to have. Only one of them had been gracious enough to send a thank-you note.
Allison sighed and shrugged. “I’m doing the best I can to take care of things, but it’s complicated. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I learned she’d left the house and almost everything in it to me. Like I said, we weren’t close. However, I was her last blood relative, and pedigree was everything to Dolly.”
She fell silent for a second. “Anyway, there are a few items that she left to other people, which is why those awful women have been camped out on my front porch. They’re afraid I’ll ignore Dolly’s wishes and sell off the items she promised them, which isn’t true. Like I told them, I’ve already packed those items and set them aside until the lawyer gives me the okay to hand them over. There were also a few organizations that she wanted to receive specific amounts of money.”
She met Abby’s gaze head on. “Which is where you come in. I understand that you’re the current head of the quilting guild that Aunt Dolly belonged to.”
“I am.”
“Well, for starters, Aunt Dolly bequeathed her fabric collection to the guild members to divide up however seems fair to the group. She also wanted to make a cash donation to support their charity projects.”
Abby almost choked when Allison went on to name a five-figure amount. It took some effort to clear her throat enough to breathe again. “Really? Wow, the ladies will be thrilled. That will fund their projects for years to come. Are you sure about the amount? That seems like an awful lot of money.”
“Aunt Dolly could afford it. And to be honest, the guild is just one of several groups in town that she mentioned in her will. There’s a whole list of stuff I’m supposed to give to specific people, and some of it seems pretty odd.”
“Like what?”
“Dolly wanted some kid in town to have her late husband’s medals from his time in the army during World War II. She left him some money, too. Something about a college fund.”
That made sense. “I’m guessing you’re talking about JB Burton. Dolly got to know him awhile back when he did some work around the house for her. They ended up friends of a sort. He’s an honor student who earned an appointment to West Point.”
Allison smiled. “Hearing that makes me glad she decided to help him. She also named your aunt in the will, so that particular item would have ended up coming to you. At least that’s what the lawyer said.”
From everything Abby had heard about the rocky relationship between Dolly and her aunt, she couldn’t imagine why the woman would’ve left Sybil anything at all. Curiosity more than anything else had her asking, “What on earth did she leave Sybil?”
“It was one of her quilts. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to find it anywhere in the house. Aunt Dolly was one of those disgustingly organized people. She made a notebook for me to use to identify the items listed in her will. Along with the contact information for the recipient, she wrote a detailed description of the item, where it came from, where it was in the house, and even included a color photograph. I’m still going through things, but the quilt isn’t with the rest of her collection.”
And there they were back to the missing quilts. “I think I know what might have happened to it.” Abby quickly explained the situation to Allison. “It doesn’t seem likely that we’ll ever know what happened to all of the quilts, which is a real shame.”
Maybe it was time to change the subject. She glanced around the room and into the adjoining dining room. “Looks like you’ve got a lot of stuff to go through. It’s quite a job, isn’t it?”
Allison nodded. “Yeah, I figure it’s going to take me months to sort through it all. I know Aunt Dolly was really proud of this place, but her taste in decorating and mine are nothing alike. I haven’t decided if I’m going to keep the house or
sell it. It seems silly to rattle around in a big place like this all by myself. On the other hand, it is paid for.”
“Yeah, I’ve had similar thoughts on the house my aunt left me. I’ve been slowly working my way through everything one room at a time. It’s amazing how much worthless stuff people hang on to for no good reason.”
That had Allison laughing. “Amen, sister. While you’re here, would you like to get the grand tour?”
“I’d love it.”
* * *
About forty-five minutes later, Abby said good-bye as she and Zeke resumed their walk. Along the way, it occurred to her that the unplanned encounter with the heir to Dolly’s estate had eliminated another viable suspect in the woman’s murder. Considering how much she’d liked Allison, she should’ve been relieved. Instead, she was frustrated big time. She’d done everything she could think of to figure out who would’ve benefited from Dolly’s death, but she was no closer to clearing her aunt’s name.
As she continued her march down the sidewalk, she looked around her and studied her surroundings. Snowberry Creek was a pretty town with lots of nice people living in it. But she shivered as she passed each neat and tidy house, because, despite the warmth of the sun overhead, she had to wonder which one sheltered a cold-blooded killer.
Chapter Fourteen
That cheery thought made her want to go straight home and barricade herself inside, but there was still one pressing item left on her agenda. At least it should be relatively simple to take care of, since she only had three questions. Had Troy ever found the quilts? Did he have contact information for his wife? And had Julie ever photographed any of the quilts?
Not that she held out much hope for that last one. But on the off chance Julie had taken pictures and then left her camera behind, there might be a picture of the quilt Sybil had chosen to put in the calendar. Not that it mattered now, but it would be interesting to learn for sure which one her aunt had thought was special enough for the calendar.
And if, as she suspected, it was the one they’d made together, how had it ended up buried in the backyard with Dolly Cayhill?
After turning the corner onto Troy Tolbert’s street, she paused to study the addresses. If she was counting correctly, his place was the small rambler about halfway down the block on the right—the one with a man pushing a lawnmower back and forth. Great. He was not only home, but he was also outside, meaning she had no excuse not to stop and chat.
“Lady Luck, you’re sure ticked off at me for some reason. The only thing that could make this day any worse would be for me to run into Frank Jeffries again.”
She gave her companion a pleading look. “Zeke, if I let myself get suckered into volunteering for any more committees or secret missions for the guild, bite me. I know I’m asking you to practice some tough love, but if it saves me from doing this kind of stuff, I would really appreciate it.”
Zeke slurped his tongue up her hand and part way up her arm, leaving behind an impressive trail of slobber in the process.
She ignored the sticky mess and gave him a quick hug. “I love you, too, big guy. Now let’s get this fiasco over with.”
It took far too little time to reach Troy’s house. From what she could see, he was a nice-looking man in his early forties. Maybe a shade under six feet tall, he was in reasonably good shape, physically fit without packing on a lot of muscle. Just an average guy dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt with what looked like a pink logo of some kind embroidered on the pocket.
She stopped in front of the house and waited for him to turn back in her direction. When he finally spotted her, he gave her a puzzled look but turned off the lawnmower. He took off the black baseball cap he was wearing and wiped the sweat off his forehead before heading in her direction. There was a steep slope along the front edge of the yard, leaving him standing several feet above the sidewalk.
He offered her a friendly smile as he looked down at her. “Hi, were you wanting to talk to me? I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Okay, this was proving to be far more awkward than even she had expected it to be. “No, you don’t know me, Mr. Tolbert. My name is Abby McCree, and I’m the new head of the local quilting guild.”
His smile immediately dimmed. “I’m sorry, but I’ve already told those women that their quilts aren’t in my house.”
“I know, and I hate to bring up what must be a difficult subject for you. To be honest, I had hoped to avoid bothering you at all. I even tried looking at your wife’s Facebook page to see if I could track her down that way. However, it doesn’t look as if she’s posted anything on her public page since Christmas.”
He looked at her as if she were spouting pure gibberish. “I didn’t even know she had a Facebook page. I can’t imagine why she would bother with such nonsense.”
What could she say to that? Considering Julie had run off with a new lover, it was obvious the woman had been keeping multiple secrets from her husband.
Rather than point that out, Abby went back on point. “Anyway, the ladies from the guild were wondering if you have any current contact information for your . . . wife. They’d really like to talk to her about the missing quilts, some of which are quite valuable.”
For a minute, she didn’t think he was going to answer. God knows the question had to feel like a hot poker on a barely healed wound. He flexed his hands several times before finally speaking.
“I’m sorry, but I have no idea where she is. Like I told them ages ago, she emptied our savings account and took a bunch of our personal possessions that could be sold for some quick cash. All I got was a note saying she was leaving me.”
“And her family hasn’t heard from her either?”
“They told me that she emailed them right after she left to say she’d let them know where she finally settled. I know they’ve heard more since then, but the last I heard she only said she was fine and not to worry.”
He stared over Abby’s head for several seconds before once again looking straight at her. “I tried to email her myself several times, but they bounced. Maybe she’s got a new email address or something. If so, I don’t know what it is.”
He shifted from foot to foot, clearly finding the conversation upsetting. “Look, I don’t talk to my in-laws very often. It’s just too painful. I feel guilty because I had no idea she was so unhappy, and they feel bad because she ran off like that. They’re people of deep faith who take things like marriage vows pretty seriously. However, they also feel obligated to protect their daughter’s privacy.”
Another dead end. Abby didn’t hold out much hope that the answer to her next question would be any more positive.
Zeke whined and stirred restlessly. She didn’t blame him. She was ready to bolt down the street herself. “One last thing, and then I’ll let you get back to mowing the lawn. Is there any chance that Mrs. Tolbert left her camera behind? If she did, then maybe the data card would still have any JPEGs she might have already taken of the quilts. She promised to take the pictures as soon as the ladies delivered them to her.”
She offered him what she thought was a sympathetic smile. “I really am sorry to bother you with all of this. The only reason we’re asking is that several of the members are trying to duplicate the quilts they lost, and it would help if they had photos of the originals to use as patterns.”
Okay, that last part was a stretch, but it was the best explanation she could come up with on the spur of the moment.
A flash of pure fury swept over his face, only to disappear as quickly as it had come. If she hadn’t looked up from petting Zeke at that exact moment, she would’ve missed it altogether. For that brief instant, his entire demeanor changed from affable to something far different. Even Zeke noticed. His big body tensed, and a deep growl rumbled in his chest. She tightened her hold on his leash although she wasn’t sure she’d be strong enough to hold him back if he really did feel the need to defend her.
Troy’s eyes narrowed as he briefly stared down at Zeke befo
re turning his attention back to her. “Okay, just how many times do I have to repeat this? I don’t know anything about those quilts. I never saw them. And as far as I know, my wife lost all interest in photography years ago. If she even still had a camera other than the one on her cell phone, it’s probably up in the attic somewhere, covered in dust.”
Then he shook his head, looking thoroughly disgusted. “No, actually, on second thought, she probably hocked it along with everything else she stole from me when she ran off.”
Despite what Jean and Louise thought of this man, Abby was starting to empathize with why his wife might have left him. It would be really hard to live with someone who blew so hot and cold with no warning. On some level, she realized her reaction to him probably had a lot to do with her own recent divorce. However, Troy accusing Julie of stealing some of their joint possessions really rubbed her the wrong way. Whatever Julie had taken with her had belonged to her, too, just like when she and Chad had owned and built their business together. It hadn’t belonged to him any more than it had to her, and she had the divorce settlement to prove it.
And thanks, Troy, for sending her on another lovely trip down memory lane.
Yeah, it was definitely time to get moving.
“Again, I apologize, but I had to ask.” She ran her fingers through Zeke’s soft fur to comfort them both. “I’ll be going now, and I’ll ask the ladies not to bother you again.”
Troy’s slick smile was back, but she didn’t trust it.
“Look, Abby, was it? I’m sorry for being so curt, but all of this has really taken a toll on me. Did you know that one of those old ladies threatened to report this whole mess to police? I told her if she or any of the others bothered me again, I’d be the one to call the authorities. All I want is for people to respect my privacy. Every time somebody asks about Julie, it just stirs up a lot of pain all over again.”
Death by Committee Page 15
