Death by Committee

by Alexis Morgan

“Business, with an emphasis on human resources and management. My ex majored in marketing. Our two different skillsets made for a good combination when we decided to start our own import business.”

  “I take it you aren’t part of the company anymore.”

  He wasn’t really asking a question, but she found herself explaining anyway. “We knew going in that a lot of start-up companies don’t survive, but ours did. It was our marriage that failed. He bought me out as part of the divorce settlement.”

  “So that makes two of us figuring out what comes next.” Tripp’s grin was surprisingly playful as he lifted his water glass up to offer a toast. “Here’s to all the new possibilities life has to offer.”

  She smiled back at him and clinked her glass against his, once again her mood doing another upswing. “To the possibilities.”

  It was pretty clear that Tripp was talking about his future employment when he finished college. On the other hand, she was pretty sure it wasn’t the job market that had her pulse racing. Luckily, the waitress arrived with their salads, giving her something else to concentrate on other than the handsome man sitting across from her.

  * * *

  An hour later, she followed Tripp out of the diner. She was stuffed almost to the point of being uncomfortable. If she felt that way, she couldn’t imagine how Tripp could even walk.

  “I can’t believe you ate a double order of the roast beef, several pieces of pie, and then got another one to go. You said it was”—she paused to do air quotes with her fingers—“‘for later,’ but we both know that pie won’t last the night.”

  Tripp didn’t look the least bit ashamed of pigging out like that. It wasn’t as if she minded the higher cost of the meal. The total bill was far less than what she would have had to pay at the steakhouse in the next town over, but darn it, she would’ve liked more pie, too. If she’d eaten as much as he had, they would’ve had to roll her out of the restaurant in a wheelbarrow.

  “I owe you for the extra entrée and the second and third pieces of pie.”

  When he reached for his wallet, she waved him off. “No, you don’t. Dinner was my treat. I didn’t put any limits on the offer.”

  They walked around the corner to the parking lot. “I’m just trying to figure out how you stay totally ripped like that and eat like you do.” Okay, she had not meant to let the part about how well he was built slip out. “Forget I said that.”

  Tripp’s grin turned wicked. “Which part? The part about me eating too much or the part about me being totally ripped?”

  They both knew there was no way for her to win this discussion. “Never mind. Let’s go home.”

  As she rounded the back of her car, heading toward the passenger door, the headlights from a truck pulling into the lot washed over her. It stopped as if waiting for them to pull out, but then suddenly the driver gunned the engine and drove to the far end of the row. It seemed odd, but maybe the driver had seen another spot farther down the line. She climbed in as soon as Tripp pushed the button to unlock her door. Seconds later, they were pulling out onto Main Street.

  Still, something about that truck bothered her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. She looked back over her shoulder to see if she could see the driver. He was just pulling back out onto the street. Although he only gave them a very brief glance before turning away, there was something vaguely familiar about the man’s profile. Then it hit her. If she didn’t know better, she might have thought it was Troy Tolbert. There was no way to know for sure without a better glimpse of his face, but he’d driven off in the opposite direction.

  “Everything okay over there?”

  “I’m good.”

  More or less, anyway. Between the note and everything else, she was on edge. That wasn’t Tripp’s problem; it was hers. She briefly considered asking him to turn around and follow the truck until she could get a better look at the driver but then rejected the idea. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her, because Gage had said Troy had left town on one of his long-haul jobs. There was no way he could be back already.

  They made the rest of the trip back home in silence. When they pulled into the driveway, Tripp turned the engine off but made no effort to get out of the car. He rested his hands on the steering wheel, his fingers beating out a soft rhythm for several seconds.

  “Should I camp out on the couch again tonight?”

  Rather than answer immediately, she gave the matter some thought. It was tempting to accept, but asking him to babysit her at night for the long term wasn’t reasonable. Besides, if someone was really intent on doing her harm, daylight wouldn’t guarantee she was safe. He couldn’t stay with her twenty-four seven.

  “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll be fine. Like I told Gage, I’ve got Zeke and a cell phone. At the first sign of trouble, I’ll call in the cavalry.”

  He nodded. “Do you want me to come in and make sure the house is secure?”

  “Just walk me to the porch. If there’s been any problem, Zeke will let us know as soon as I open the door. After that, I will be fine.”

  And she would, too. No way she was going to let some person, or persons, ruin living in Aunt Sybil’s house for her. It had been hard enough to walk away from the condo that she and Chad had called home for so long. She wouldn’t be driven out again.

  Tripp followed her as far as the porch and watched as she turned the key in the lock. Zeke bolted past her to greet his buddy as soon as she opened the door. He then bounded back up the steps to her, long enough to say hello. Before she could grab his collar, he was off and running again.

  He did a quick circle of the backyard, stopping long enough to do his business. When he came trotting back, Tripp patted him on the head one last time.

  “Thanks again for dinner, Abby.”

  “It was little enough to do for you sacrificing your back by sleeping on the couch last night.”

  “A price I’d willingly pay again for three pieces of Frannie’s pie.” He shooed Zeke up onto the porch. “Sleep well, you two. Call me if you need anything at all.”

  Oh, boy, he really shouldn’t make blanket offers like that. It was definitely time to walk away. She offered him one last smile, hoping it didn’t reveal any of her wayward thoughts. “I will.”

  Once inside, she considered her options for what was left of the evening. As much as the bottle of wine was calling her name, it probably wasn’t a good idea to indulge herself with anything alcoholic. She hoped and prayed that the brick-throwing vandal wouldn’t pay her a second visit, but she would need her wits about her if he did.

  Maybe a bath and then spending time with a good book and a cup of herbal tea made more sense. The only problem was that the only books she had to read right now were all murder mysteries. Not exactly entertaining when she was living right smack in the middle of one of her own. Rather than dwell on it, she checked to make sure all the doors and windows were locked before heading upstairs. The entire master suite had been remodeled a few years back, and the bathroom now had all the bells and whistles, including a huge walk-in shower that she loved.

  That wasn’t where she was headed, though. Instead, she was going to enjoy the one original feature that Sybil had kept—a huge, old-fashioned clawfoot tub. She turned on the water and tossed in a double handful of her favorite lavender-scented bath salts. Next up, she lit the row of candles on the windowsill and the two on the vanity, filling the room with their soft flickering light. Already the tension she’d been fighting all evening was starting to fade. By the time she adjusted the volume on her favorite playlist and slipped into the steaming water, her mood was much improved.

  But as her mind drifted, her thoughts kept coming back to everything that had happened since the day they’d first found Dolly Cayhill’s body. Abby had moved to Snowberry Creek to give herself time to find a new direction for her life. Thanks to Aunt Sybil and the divorce settlement, she didn’t have to be in a big hurry to pursue a new career. She’d looked forward to living at
a much slower pace than she had in the years that she and Chad pushed hard to get their business off the ground.

  But lately, her days and nights had been anything but the peaceful lifestyle she’d been looking for. Sure, she could put the house up for sale and move back to the city, but that idea held little appeal. She liked the majority of the people she’d met in Snowberry Creek, and right now she had commitments that required her continued presence in town. After all, she’d promised to serve out Aunt Sybil’s terms of office on both the quilting guild and that senior affairs committee for the town.

  She’d given her word, something she took seriously. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t spend the time until her current commitments ended figuring out what came next for her. If she couldn’t find something she found satisfying to do with her life here in Snowberry Creek, then maybe it would be time to look farther afield.

  But that would only be as a last resort. She loved this old house and had friends here in town who had come to mean a lot to her in a short time. Glenda and the ladies in the guild. Bridey and her husband at the coffee shop. Tripp. And finally, Gage Logan, even if she’d really rather not have to deal with him in his professional capacity again.

  Yeah, she’d already put down some roots, ones she would really hate to rip up anytime soon. Now, if only they could figure out what Dolly Cayhill had seen or done that had gotten her killed. It would be so nice if life could go back to normal again. It was exhausting to worry about who might be lurking out there in the shadows.

  Feeling chilled by that unhappy image, she ran more hot water into the tub in the hope it would chase away the darkness in her thoughts. If it didn’t, she could always crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head. That might not work, either, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If all else failed, she’d coax Zeke up onto the bed with her, even if he took up way more space than was comfortable. Heck, maybe she would do that anyway. At least then she wouldn’t feel quite so alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  One of the many things she didn’t miss about her old life was having to wake up to an annoying buzz every morning. She leaned over Zeke and picked up her cell phone to check the time. Yeah, she was pretty sure she hadn’t set her alarm to go off at eight-thirty. Must have been a dream. She started to put the phone back down on the bedside table when it started ringing.

  Okay, her sleep-fogged mind had incorrectly translated the obnoxious noise as her alarm clock, when the reality was that someone was trying to call her. She squinted at the phone to see if she really wanted to answer the summons. When she saw Glenda’s name on the screen, she dropped back down on her pillow and resigned herself to answering.

  “Hi, Glenda. What’s up?”

  “Abby, are you okay? You don’t sound right.”

  She rested her forearm over her eyes, trying to block out the bright sunshine streaming in through the window. “I’m fine. Just groggy. Not really awake yet.”

  Or actually at all.

  After a slight pause, Glenda said, “Oh, I’ve been up for hours.”

  The woman didn’t sound at all apologetic for dragging Abby out of a sound sleep. In fact, Abby suspected she was a little shocked that someone might still be asleep at this hour. It was so hard not to accidentally disconnect the call and then mute the phone so she wouldn’t hear it ring a second time. She was pretty sure her conscience could live with the guilt over ignoring her friend for another hour, maybe even as long as two.

  Unfortunately, Glenda’s next words hit her like a double shot of caffeine. “Abby, I just had to share the wonderful news. I’m getting my quilt back.”

  Abby bolted upright in bed. “The one you made for your niece? Did Troy Tolbert finally find them at his house?”

  “Yes, it’s the one I made for my niece. But, as it turns out, Troy didn’t have it after all. A friend called me last night to ask me why I would sell my quilts for so little at a swap meet. All I can figure is that Julie really did take the quilts to sell for cash. I’m awfully disappointed in that girl.”

  Abby’s brain still wasn’t firing on all cylinders as she struggled to make sense of it all. “Did your friend tell you where she got it?”

  “Like I said, Ruth spotted it at a swap meet and snapped it right up. She always did have an eye for a bargain. She didn’t realize it was one I’d made until she got it home and saw where I’d embroidered my name and the date on the back. She agreed to sell it back to me for the same price she paid for it.”

  It was a shame that Glenda would be out the money, but Abby suspected that wasn’t as important to her as getting the quilt back. “What I really meant to ask was if she told you where the swap meet was being held and if it would still be there.”

  “I didn’t think to ask, but I can call her back and find out. Why?”

  Abby would’ve thought the answer to that would be obvious. “Because we’re still missing all those other quilts. There might be a chance that we could track down more of them if we talked to the vendor who’d bought yours from Julie.”

  “I’ll make the call right now.”

  “Good. Also ask her if she remembers the name of the person she bought the quilt from, or even a shop name if there is one. Meanwhile, I’m going to hop in the shower and then grab a quick breakfast. If the swap meet is open today, I’ll go talk to the people to see if I can learn anything about the other quilts.”

  Except, considering she’d never seen the quilts, recognizing them would be problematic. Evidently, Glenda had the same thought. “I’ll come with you, Abby. I might be able to recognize some of the other quilts if they are there. In fact, why don’t I contact the other people who had bought a page in the calendar and get a description if I can.”

  “Good thinking. I should be ready to go in an hour. Will that give you enough time to check in with everyone?”

  “Yes, it shouldn’t take long. In fact, several of them might even have pictures they can send me. A lot of us keep notebooks for our patterns and pictures of the quilts we’ve made using them.”

  All of that would be really helpful, but still, Abby hesitated. “I’d really hate to get their hopes up too much. Even if Julie sold more of the quilts to the person at the swap meet, chances are they’re already gone.”

  Glenda sighed. “I realize that it’s a long shot. We wouldn’t have even known where my quilt ended up if my friend hadn’t happened to find it. I can’t speak for everyone, of course, but I’d want to know one way or the other.”

  “And if we locate any of the quilts, should I buy them back?”

  Before Glenda could respond, Abby answered her own question. “Yes, of course I should. And if any of the ladies involved can’t afford what I paid for them, that’s all right. In fact, we can consider the money a donation to the guild in my aunt’s memory.”

  “Sybil would be so proud of you.”

  Abby would really like to think Sybil would feel that way. “I’ll be there to pick you up in just over an hour. If you need to change the time, just leave a message if I don’t pick up.”

  “I will.”

  Abby dropped the phone back down on the bed. It was so tempting to grab a few more minutes of blissful slumber, but there wasn’t enough time. She threw back the covers and climbed down over the foot of the bed to avoid disturbing Zeke, who showed no inclination to move out of her way.

  When she finished her shower and got dressed, he finally jumped down off the bed and led the parade downstairs to the kitchen. She let him outside and then fixed a quick breakfast for both of them. Zeke wolfed his down and then whined at the door.

  She patted him on the head. “I have to go out for the morning, big guy. Unless Tripp’s going to be around, I’ll have to leave you in the house.”

  Before she could call the man in question, she spotted him out in the backyard. In case he was getting ready to leave, she blocked Zeke’s frantic efforts to escape when she stepped out onto the porch.

  “Tripp, would you be up for
letting Zeke hang out with you for a while? I have to take Glenda somewhere this morning, and he’s not happy about being shut inside.”

  “No problem. I’ll be here until my afternoon class. I’ll put him back inside before I leave if you’re not back yet.”

  “That would be great. I’m not sure how long we’ll be gone.”

  She opened the door and jumped back out of the way as the dog bolted past her to join his buddy over near the garage. She topped off Zeke’s water bowl and set it out on the porch. She also put several of his favorite treats in a baggy to hand off to Tripp on her way out. They both spoiled Zeke rotten, but she didn’t care. By all reports, he’d had a rough time of it before ending up at the shelter. He deserved to know that not all humans were horrible, and the snacks were organic and healthy for him.

  Tripp was waiting by her car. “Going anywhere special?”

  Maybe he asked out of idle curiosity, but somehow she doubted it. Granted, the way things had been going for her lately, maybe he had good reason to worry. She handed him Zeke’s treats. “If you must know, Glenda called to let me know one of the guild’s missing quilts turned up at a swap meet. We thought we’d go check the place out in case some of the other ones are there, too.”

  “How did it end up there?”

  “We don’t know. A friend of hers bought the quilt and then realized it was Glenda’s creation. The lady was willing to sell it back to her, but she had no idea how the people at the booth got it in the first place.”

  “Interesting.” He moved out of her way.

  Before getting into the car, she just had to ask one question. “So, tell me. Did that third piece of pie make it through to breakfast?”

  “Nope.” The jerk actually looked proud of that fact. “Heck, it barely made it in the door last night.”

  “That’s what I figured.”

  Again, if she’d eaten like that, she wouldn’t have been able to fasten her jeans this morning. “See you later. Zeke, behave.”

  As she started to back out of the driveway, Tripp motioned for Abby to lower her window. “Did you need something, Tripp?”