Death by Committee

by Alexis Morgan

  Tripp stood up. “I’ll take your trash, and then I’m heading back to the house before that lady from the mayor’s office figures out we’ve already finished up all the projects at the park. A bunch of guys from the local veterans group showed up to help, so it didn’t take as long as she thought it would. I wouldn’t put it past her to have a list of other stuff she’d like done around town.”

  “You could help me replant the flower pots on Main Street.”

  He held out his hand for their empty plates and cups. “Nope, if I’m going to do stuff like that, I’d rather work in your yard. Besides, one of us should let Zeke out for a while.”

  “Fine, be that way. Before you go, though, have you seen Gage anywhere?”

  At the mere mention of the police chief ’s name, Tripp tensed up and immediately did that scan-the-perimeter-thing he was always doing with his eyes. “He was still over at the park right before I came here. Why? What’s wrong now?”

  Now Bridey was looking worried. “Abby, has something else happened?”

  Evidently word about the broken window hadn’t made it as far as the local coffee shop. “Someone tossed a brick through my front window the other night, and it’s left me a little jumpy. As far as we know, it was some teenagers on the prowl.”

  Abby shot Tripp a quelling look before he could contradict her. Yes, she knew that both he and Gage thought there was more to the incident than mere high jinks. Now wasn’t the time to rehash that discussion, even though she suspected they were right. Pointing to the cap, she explained, “But to answer your question, Tripp. I need to talk to him about the guy who sold those quilts to the lady at the swap meet. From what she told us, he might have been wearing a cap just like this one.”

  Tripp relaxed, but only a little. “Do you want me to help you find Gage?”

  Nice of him to offer, but she really didn’t need a security detail to escort her through town, especially in broad daylight with so many people out and about. “No, that’s okay. I’ll go look for him at the park, but then I’ve got to get back to city hall to help with the flower pots. After I’m done there, I’ll head back home.”

  She made a show of scoping out the area and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Because I think you’re right about Connie having that big to-do list.”

  “See you at the house, then. Bye, Bridey, and I loved the brownies.”

  Abby watched as Tripp disappeared into the crowd. When he was gone, Bridey gave her an assessing look. “Don’t take this wrong. I like Tripp, but he can be awfully intense at times. Do you find him hard to deal with?”

  He was also very private and wouldn’t appreciate being the topic of conversation. On the other hand, she felt compelled to defend him. “Not at all. He’s a great tenant and not just because he does so much work around the place. That’s part of the deal he struck with my aunt, but he’s really conscientious about it.”

  She managed a small smile. “But beyond that, I don’t know how I would have gotten through the day we found Mrs. Cayhill buried in the backyard without him. And on the night when someone threw the brick through the window, he insisted on sleeping on the couch in my living room so I wouldn’t have to be alone in the house.”

  Reminding herself that he deserved to have his privacy protected, she added, “Although I wouldn’t like that to get out. Gage is still investigating both the murder and the vandalism, so we’re not supposed to talk a lot about what happened in either instance.”

  Okay, even though that was true, Tripp sacking out on her couch wasn’t exactly part of the investigation. She was just hoping that it would give more weight to her request that Bridey keep that particular detail to herself.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Now, I’d better get my baking sheets back to the shop and see how things are going there. My assistant is great, but the other barista just started working for me about a week ago. They might need a little extra help this afternoon with all these people working around town.

  Bridey headed back to where the cleanup crew was starting to break down the tables that had been used to serve the food. Meanwhile, Abby picked up Tripp’s cap. Rather than leave it behind, she put it on. It wasn’t exactly her style either, but at least it would help protect her from the sun for the time being. As she adjusted the strap in the back to fit her better, she checked the immediate area to see if she could spot Gage anywhere close. When she didn’t see him, she walked toward the park.

  About two blocks down, she spotted a familiar-looking pickup truck driving down the street. She slowed to watch it, almost sure it was the same one she’d seen the other night in the café parking lot. Unfortunately, the sun hit the windshield at just the right angle to make it difficult to see the driver clearly. It was a man, but that was about all she could tell for sure. Right before he would’ve pulled even with her, he gunned the engine and did an abrupt right turn into a narrow alley between two buildings, without bothering to signal first. The driver right behind him had to slam on his brakes to avoid running into the back end of the pickup. He honked and flipped off the truck driver before continuing on down Main Street.

  She didn’t blame the guy in the car for his actions, but the truck peeling off into that alley was a bit odd. If she was right about it being the same truck, then that was the second time the driver had done something strange in her vicinity. Maybe she was getting paranoid, but either he was a lousy driver all the time, or he was trying to prevent her from getting a good look at him for some reason.

  Why would he feel that way? Not that she was going to hunt him down and ask. If she was wrong about the situation, she’d look like a fool. If she was right, then she’d probably only make the guy even madder at her. And, after all, she’d promised Tripp she’d try not to aggravate anyone new for a while.

  Rather than dwell on the subject, she hurried on down the sidewalk. Connie had told her that everyone who was supposed to work on the flower pots should meet in the parking lot behind city hall in about twenty minutes. That didn’t leave her very long to find Gage and get back to where she needed to be.

  When she reached the park, she didn’t see Gage anywhere, but one of his deputies was driving through the parking lot. She’d met him on the day they’d discovered Dolly’s body, but so much of that day was still such a blur in her memory that she couldn’t remember his name. No matter. She waved him down anyway.

  He stopped and rolled down his window. “Hi, Ms. McCree. Is there something I can help you with?”

  She stepped close enough to his cruiser to talk without having to yell. “I was wondering if you might know where Gage is right now.”

  “It’s actually his day off. The last I heard he and his daughter had plans for this afternoon. Is there something I can do for you?”

  It seemed unlikely that Gage had informed his staff about the missing quilts. It wasn’t as if it was a major case, and they no doubt had more important matters to deal with. “No, that’s fine. I wanted to tell him something, but it can wait.”

  Although he was still smiling, the deputy definitely had his cop face on now. “Does it have something to do with either the murder investigation or the broken window?”

  “Nope, neither of those things. I’ll catch up with him on Monday.”

  He seemed hesitant to leave, but finally he said, “If you’re sure . . . enjoy your day.”

  She backed away from the car. “Thanks, I will.”

  As he drove away, she had to wonder if all the deputies would always think first of Dolly’s death whenever they looked at her. Was that one of the unexpected hazards of their job? Did they see past case files instead of individual citizens? For their sake, she hoped not.

  Now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things. She had dirt to dig and plants to stick in pots. Once she was done with that, she could finally go home. Once there, she’d fix something light for dinner and then spend the evening up in the quilting room looking for pictures of Aunt Sybil’s quilts. If she found them, she’d spend
tomorrow inventorying the quilts in the house, matching them with the pictures.

  Maybe, eventually, she’d finally be able to figure out which one Sybil had dropped off at Julie’s house. The chances of getting it back were pretty low, but then she really hadn’t expected to get back the three they’d already recovered.

  Her evening planned out, she reported for flower pot duty.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Come on, boy, let’s go outside and work in the yard.”

  The big dog pushed his back end up off the floor and did a long stretch. Abby grinned as he held the position for a surprisingly long time. “You know, Zeke, my old yoga instructor would be most impressed with your form doing that downward-facing dog pose.”

  He took the compliment as his just due, continuing his stretch another few seconds for good measure before trotting over to stand by the door. She let him out and grabbed her sunglasses and water bottle off the counter before following him out onto the back porch. It was tempting to curl up in one of the rattan chairs and read for a while, but she was restless and really needed to do something more active.

  She’d spent most of Saturday evening and a good part of Sunday rooting around in the quilting room. Her intent had been to look for any records that her aunt had kept of the quilts she’d made over the years, but everything had gotten so dusty that she’d started sneezing like crazy. It was almost embarrassing that she’d let the room that was so quintessentially her aunt’s get so dirty. After hours of dusting, vacuuming, and scrubbing, the room was finally back up to Sybil’s exacting standards.

  At least in the process, she’d finally found the files she’d been looking for. Matching the pictures to the quilts in the house had taken a surprising amount of time. In part, it was because the quilts were scattered all over the place. The easiest ones to find were in use on the various beds in the house, and a few more were displayed on quilt racks. Several more were in the cedar chests in the master bedroom and one of the guest rooms.

  Sybil had also noted which quilts had been donated to charity or that she’d made as gifts for specific people. While all of that had helped, there were three pictured in the files still unaccounted for. They could be packed away up in the attic, but Abby wasn’t in the mood to wade through all the clutter up there to look for them right now.

  Besides killing off the dozens of dust bunnies that had threatened to take over the quilting room, the only good thing that came from all the work was that she’d found a picture of the quilt she and Sybil had made together. Eventually, she would have the print enlarged before having it matted and framed as a reminder of that special summer with her aunt.

  Granted, she’d rather have the actual quilt, but that one was lost for good. Not that she wanted it back now, but Dolly Cayhill’s makeshift shroud was locked up with the rest of the evidence the police had gathered the day her body had been recovered.

  Too many dark thoughts. She definitely needed to spend time out in the sun. After getting her yard tools from the shed, she walked around to the front of the house to work on deadheading the hanging baskets on the front porch and the roses planted along the far edge of the yard. Zeke wandered around on his own before finally seeking out another favorite napping spot in the shade of a vine maple tree. It afforded him a clear view of the rest of the yard and allowed him to keep an eye on her.

  She appreciated his nondemanding company. “You know, Zeke, having you around is like having my very own furry guardian angel.”

  He woofed softly, acknowledging her praise, before settling in for a nap. While he dozed, she started on the flower baskets, dropping the dead and dying blooms into a bucket. Next up, she watered and fertilized the baskets to keep them blooming for a while longer. When that was done, she started on the roses. She’d had to do a lot of reading on gardening to figure out how to take care of her aunt’s most prized flowers.

  Zeke’s low growl was the first warning she had that she was no longer alone. She tightened her grip on her pruning shears as she slowly turned around to face her unexpected and definitely unwelcome guest. What on earth was Troy Tolbert doing standing in her front yard? Whatever his reason was for being there, she wasn’t happy to see him.

  “Sorry if I startled you, Ms. McCree. I happened to be passing by when I spotted you working in the yard.”

  She hadn’t checked to see if Tripp was home, but at least she had Zeke. The dog had left his place in the shade to sit beside her. Troy glanced at him and took a half step back. She appreciated even that small difference in the distance between them. Odd that she felt so uncomfortable in this particular man’s presence, when everyone else thought he was such a great guy. Judging by the tension in Zeke’s stance, she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t a fan.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Tolbert?”

  Although she couldn’t imagine what it might be. Good to her word, she hadn’t gone near him or his house since their one encounter. She wondered what Gage would think about the man seeking her out after he’d reported her to the police for bothering him.

  He shifted from side to side as if uncomfortable with the situation, too. After giving Zeke another worried look, Troy finally answered her. “I happened to run into Mrs. Unger at church, and she mentioned that she’d gotten her quilt back.”

  It was hard not to sigh. She’d really hoped that Glenda would’ve kept that little tidbit to herself. At the very least, Abby would’ve preferred she not talk to Troy about it, but there was no use in denying it. “Yes, she did.”

  He looked at her expectantly, maybe hoping she’d be more forthcoming. Finally, he said, “Evidently, it was just stupid luck that the woman who bought the quilt from some secondhand dealer happened to be a friend of hers.”

  “Yes, it was an amazing coincidence.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair as if finding the entire discussion frustrating. “See, here’s the thing. Like I told you before, I never saw the quilts. However, I realize now that doesn’t mean that Julie didn’t take them. I can’t believe she’d steal from her friends like that, but then I still have trouble believing she would walk out on me, too.”

  If he’d been anyone else, Abby would’ve felt sorry for him. God knows she’d had her own bad experience along those same lines. But for some reason, she didn’t quite believe him, even if she couldn’t pinpoint the reason why. Maybe he really was the innocent party and was genuinely shocked that his wife had deserted him, but she still had to wonder if he’d done something to drive Julie to take such extreme measures to get away from him.

  She aimed for sounding sympathetic. “I’m sorry this is all so hard for you, Mr. Tolbert.”

  He flashed her a boyish smile. “Thank you, but please call me Troy.”

  Considering she had no intentions of ever being friends with the man, what she called him didn’t really matter. “Why did you want to talk to me specifically?”

  “Mrs. Unger said you had also managed to buy back two more of the quilts at the same place. I was wondering if the vendor could tell you anything about the man who sold them to her.”

  “Why?”

  His expression hardened. “I would think that would be obvious. If it was the guy who Julie ran off with, maybe I could get his name. If so, I might be able to track her down through him, since my in-laws haven’t been any help. I get that she doesn’t want to come back home, but we have some legal stuff that we need to work through. I can’t do that as long as I don’t know where she is. She might be moving on with her life, but I’m stuck here spinning my wheels.”

  Okay, that was a legitimate enough reason for asking, but Abby was still reluctant to go into much detail about their discussion with Rowena. No way she wanted to send an angry man in that woman’s direction.

  “The only description she could give us was that he was an ordinary guy just like a bazillion others who passed by her place in any given day. I asked for details, but there was nothing about him that stood out to her. Evidently, h
e came in when the booth was crowded, so she didn’t have much time to talk to him.”

  “Did she happen to catch his name?”

  “Not that I know of. To be honest, her place does a brisk business in textiles of all kinds. It’s doubtful this one transaction would stand out from all the others.”

  Troy frowned. “Did she think there was any chance he’d be back with more quilts to sell?”

  Abby shrugged. “No way to know. As far as she knew, he was just passing through the area. Besides the booths at the swap meet also come and go with no notice. There’s no telling if the same booth would be there even if he does come back.”

  Once again, something about Troy’s reaction to her answers seemed off somehow. If Troy was really hoping to learn the man’s identity with the hope of tracking down his missing wife, Abby would’ve expected him to look frustrated or at least disappointed with the few details she’d been able to provide. Oddly enough, she got the impression that he was relieved. For sure, a lot of the tension in his body language had faded considerably.

  On the other hand, Zeke’s hadn’t. He still watched every move Troy made, no matter how small. What was it about the man that put the normally friendly dog on edge this way? She trusted the dog’s instincts, though.

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Mr. Tolbert.” When he frowned, she tried again. “Sorry, I meant Troy.”

  He shrugged “Well, there are still more quilts missing. Maybe we’ll have better luck if more turn up for sale.”

  When Troy took a step forward with his hand out, Zeke lurched to his feet with a deep growl rumbling in his chest. Abby immediately grabbed him by the collar, not that she’d be strong enough to stop him if he really did go on the attack.

  Troy staggered back several steps. “What’s his problem? I was just going to shake your hand. You need to keep that dog chained up before he hurts somebody.”