Chapter Two
Roxy met Taylor at the worktable in the middle of the store. She stood in front of her big bin of hats, hoping that Taylor would wear a fun costume for the YouTube show. She wore a pincushion-like hat made of bright primary colored quilters cotton. It tilted at a jaunty angle, the long hat pins with pearlescent tips popping from it like real sewing pins. “Morning. Who ran off in that ambulance?”
Flour Sax Quilt Shop was on the same side of Main Street as Rueben’s Café and the ambulance, siren blaring, must have caught Roxy’s eye as she came to work.
“A friend of Sissy Dorney’s. They were eating breakfast when she fell ill or something.” Taylor shrugged out of her puffy, charcoal colored, nylon winter coat and dropped her purse next to the worktable with a thump.
“And who was that man you were kissing?” Roxy managed to ask the loaded question with a calm and casual voice, though her eyes sparkled.
“You were up early.” Taylor began to rifle through her purse, though she didn’t really need anything it contained.
“A friend from out of town?”
“Clay.” Taylor stared into her purse, not sure how to continue the subterfuge.
“This would be Clay you lived with in Portland?”
“Yes. That Clay.” She snapped the purse shut and toted it to her desk behind the stairs. What was she supposed to do about Clay?
Roxy followed, her sensible sneakers silent on the rose-colored indoor-outdoor carpet. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Yes.” Taylor pressed both of her hands on the desk.
“Does your mom have any wisdom in her videos?”
Taylor chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised, but you have wisdom too.”
“Gosh.” Roxy blushed lightly, just a touch of pink across her cheekbones. “I’m hardly a relationship expert.” She was around ten years older than Taylor, maybe a little more. She had a teenage son. That son had a father who wasn’t in the picture, but Taylor hadn’t asked why. Maybe Roxy wasn’t a relationship expert, but she sure seemed to have her head on her shoulders.
Taylor gave a surreptitious glance in Roxy’s direction. The silly hat made her smile. Despite the issues of underemployment in a small town combined with raising a kid alone, Roxy had never lost her verve for life. She was small, hindered by a limp Taylor had also never asked about, and a consistent encourager. If not Roxy, then who could Taylor look to for help?
The door of the shop rattled before Taylor could answer her own question.
There, under the glowering clouds, clad in a woolen Burberry shawl and a crisp little hat stood Grandma Quinny. Taylor’s father had passed away when she was only eleven, but Grandma and Grandpa Quinny had been a constant support in her life. Always there, always with a little more “help” than Taylor actually needed.
She was mouthing something dramatically, so Taylor let her in.
Before speaking, Grandma Quinny unwrapped herself, shook her shawl, and hung it on a coat rack that stood to the right of the door. Then she gave Taylor a kiss on both cheeks, took her shoulders in her hands, and kissed her forehead too. “Darling.”
Taylor gave her a quick squeeze. “We’re just about to start filming, Grandma Quinny. Want to grab a seat and watch? I haven’t made coffee yet.”
“I have.” Roxy piped up from where she was adjusting the camera on the tripod.
“Not right now. We need to have a discussion.”
Taylor gave her wrist a dramatic look to show Grandma Quinny that time was of the essence, but she wasn’t actually wearing a watch, so the point may have been lost.
“Sit down.” Grandma Quinny pulled a slipper chair away from the wall where she was standing.
Taylor sat. It had been that kind of day already, and it was only eight in the morning.
“Your grandfather and I are going away.”
“Good for you.” Taylor smiled. A vacation, while nice, didn’t seem like it needed such a dramatic announcement.
Grandma Quinny fluttered her hand as though to brush away Taylor’s words.
“We’ll be gone for six months and we need someone to stay at the farm and take care of things.”
“I can ask around for you, but I still feel a little disconnected from the town.” Taylor’s gut knew what her grandmother was about to say, but she recoiled defensively.
“You, darling. We want you.”
“What about….”
“You know we adore Ernie like our own brother.”
“He wouldn’t be comfortable staying somewhere different when he could be at home.”
“That is why this is the perfect time for you to settle him in at the Bible Creek Care Home. And don’t remind me that he’s not Methodist. We know that.”
Taylor scratched her forehead. “That’s not why I’ve been hesitating.”
“We know that, as well, so don’t forget we have the money for you. The little life insurance from your father.”
Not so long ago, Taylor had learned her grandparents had taken a life insurance policy out on their son, because he had been a fire fighter. They had been holding on to the funds for her for around sixteen years, waiting for her to need it.
“It’s not the money either.”
Grandma Quinny pulled another chair to the middle of the store and sat on it. “It’s not going to be easy, but it is the kindest thing to do. The sooner he moves, the sooner he gets accustomed to it.”
Grandpa Ernie was struggling with his memory. Dementia. Though Taylor hadn’t taken him to the doctor to find out what kind, or if it was something worse.
Roxy brought them two mugs of coffee.
“Thanks.” Taylor accepted it with a smile.
Roxy stood behind the worktable spreading out production notes for their day’s filming. “Your mom and I used to talk about this a lot.”
Grandma Quinny lifted an eyebrow.
“She was scared,” Roxy said. “You are too.”
“True,” Taylor agreed. It was easy to agree with Roxy.
Grandma reached for Taylor’s hand and squeezed it. “Life is full of scary things Taylor, but they still need to be done. I’m taking Ernie and Ellery out for lunch today over at the Care Home. They have a lovely dining room and make all the old favorites. I plan on doing this once a week till we leave. It will help, I promise.”
“But I like living with him.” Taylor bit her lip.
Grandma squeezed her hand again. “I know. It’s terrible to be alone, but you can’t give him all the care he needs. And it’s not your job.”
“No, it’s Ellery’s job. That’s what I pay her for.” Taylor squared her shoulders. Getting her medical-minded cousin as day-help for Grandpa had been exactly the solution she had needed. Grandma Quinny had helped arrange it all and it was perfect. There was literally no need to change anything about their lives at home now.
Grandma Quinny smiled one of those knowing smiles.
Taylor sighed.
“Ellery has been working to improve her grades to get into nursing school.”
“Yeah, I know. She passed her math class. But we’ve talked and I still have some time.”
“You don’t have forever, love. That’s all I’m saying.” Grandma Quinny stood. “I’ll let you go, but I would like you to find some time to meet with me again. I need to give you instructions for farm-sitting and we need to talk to the sales office at Bible Creek Care Home.” She wrapped herself back up in the soft woolen shawl and left.
Taylor lay her head on the table.
“A lot of life is like this.” Roxy pulled several hats from her box. “Very few decisions end up being free will. Circumstances make them for us. Or sometimes rich grandparents with generous hearts do.”
“I know I need to move Grandpa somewhere better for him, but I can’t yet. I just want one Christmas with all of us at home.”
Roxy passed her a camel trilby with a patchwork band. “How about this one?”
Taylor had agreed to try Roxy’s cute hats
again. She lacked some of her mom’s natural on-camera sparkle. “This is good.” The patchwork band matched the colors Taylor would be working with. If they were on their game today, which Taylor was definitely not, she’d be showing tricks for faking wedding ring blocks. She exhaled.
“It’s a good lesson. It will get lots of hits. It’s an iconic quilt,” Roxy murmured encouragement while Taylor set out the tools and fabric she’d need.
“It’s painfully ironic.”
“Why?” Roxy shut her bin of hats and stowed it behind the register counter.
“Because this is the day Clay came home.”
“How does that change anything?” Roxy asked. “The life you shared with Clay existed no matter what city he happens to be in at the moment.”
Taylor tossed her hands up and gave her a slightly pained smile. “Okay, okay. Let’s just film. I’ve had all I can take of heart stretching stuff today.”
* * *
Filming was rocky, but they made it. Interviews for part time help were rocky, too, but time passed anyway, and Taylor’s mind was not completely obsessed with the fact that her ex was roaming the town at this very moment.
In fact, all three interviewees were highly qualified and motivated students from Comfort College of Art and Craft, the delightful little private school in town Taylor had graduated from. They had seemed smarter and more talented than she was, but at least worrying about which one would make her feel the least insufficient to run the store was a distraction from thinking about Clay Seldon. Having too many good candidates was a good problem to have.
The bad problem, the one Taylor wanted to face even less than she wanted to see Clay again, was what mood Grandpa Ernie might be in when she came home. Last time Taylor had suggested taking him to Bible Creek Care Home for lunch, he had refused in no uncertain terms and gotten quite angry about her interference in his life. He had gone so far as to say that Taylor couldn’t kick him out of his home, but he could certainly kick her out of it.
But maybe with Grandma Quinny and Ellery along for the ride, it would be different.
She made her way slowly back to their little house on Love Street, close enough to the shop to walk, even in the cold drizzle of a late November afternoon.
At home, Grandpa was asleep in his recliner.
“How’d it go?” Taylor whispered to Ellery as she put away her messenger bag full of work stuff.
“Good.” Ellery gave Grandpa a fond look. “Lunch was good. He and Grandma are funny together. Lots of old memories.”
“Yeah, they both grew up here.” Taylor wandered slowly into the kitchen.
“Wasn’t Grandpa Quinny from the city?” Ellery wrapped herself in a thick creamy alpaca wool cardigan that went to her knees.
“He was from Bend. It wasn’t much of a city when he was a kid.”
“Well, anyway. They’re funny together. They get to telling stories and laughing. We sat with some other old guy at lunch that used to buy suits from Ernie.” Many moons before the family ran Flour Sax Quilt Shop, Ernie Baker had been a tailor, and had run his business from that space on Main Street. He and his wife Delma had raised their daughter in the apartment above his shop.
“Buster Creedy?”
“Yeah, that was him.”
“Good, he always liked Buster. Did Buster have good things to say about living there?”
Ellery shook her head. “I’m sure he thought he was just being funny, but he ran the place down pretty hard.”
“Shoot.”
“Grandma was fuming.” Ellery chuckled, so Taylor did too.
“What are we going to do?” Taylor poured herself a glass of water and sat down.
“Don’t let her make you rush. Ernie and I are doing fine. Your mom hasn’t even been gone a year yet.”
“And Belle’s only been at school a couple of months.” Taylor sipped the cold water, then drank the whole thing. Water. She needed more of it. Her mind seemed to clear when she was well hydrated.
Ellery glanced at her phone, like Taylor had done at her wrist when Grandma barged into the shop.
“See you tomorrow.” Taylor sighed. She liked Ellery, but the poor girl had been there all day. She didn’t need to sit around listening to Taylor moan all evening.
Ellery grinned. “Yup. See you tomorrow.” Her trip home wasn’t a long one either, and she would ride her e-scooter back, even in the rain. Taylor hadn’t known her cousin Ellery all that well till she had become Grandpa’s main caregiver, but she liked her. Calm and even tempered. Taylor wished she could keep Ellery forever, but the kid had dreams, and that was probably a good thing.
All of the Quinn girls had that spark of ambition. None of them really wanted to take the easiest route in life. Taylor was about to indulge in a little moment of self-pity regarding her own abandoned dreams when a knock on the kitchen door interrupted her.
The now familiar face of Belle’s friend Cooper Dorney filled the kitchen window. Someone stood behind him, but she had a hood on obscuring her face.
Taylor let them in. “What’s up?”
Cooper’s face was white, and he had a jumpy nervous energy.
The person with him was Aviva, their waitress from this morning.
They skittered into the kitchen like someone was chasing them.
“She’s dead.” Cooper pulled out a chair.
Aviva fell into it, her lanky limbs limp like a rag doll.
Taylor filled the kettle with water. “Who’s dead? The woman from this morning, I’m sure, but who exactly is she?”
“My mom’s aunt Reynette.”
“I’m so sorry. Your mom must be devastated.” Taylor dug through the cupboards looking for cookies or crackers. She managed to scrounge an unopened box of Ritz and a jar of Nutella. She put them on the table with a butter knife and a stack of napkins. “Is there something I can do to help?”
“You’ve got to find out who killed her.” Aviva spoke in that breathless, frayed voice popular with young women who love drama.
The piercing whistle of the kettle gave Taylor time to process what she’d just heard. Find out who killed Cooper’s mom’s aunt?
That was crazy.
She wasn’t a detective and trying to find out who had killed her mother had led to a show down in this kitchen that still kept her up at nights. And it had cost her a close relationship with her childhood best friend Maddie.
Maddie’s wild idea to use amateur detective work as grief therapy had gone wrong right away, leaving ice between the two women. Why on earth would Taylor put herself through that again? Especially for someone like Sissy Dorney who she barely knew and who barely liked her?
Taylor brought the kettle and three mugs to the table. “This must be really hard for all of you right now.”
“She was alive at the hospital and they took blood samples to see what was wrong. They came back positive for salicylate overdose,” Cooper said.
“That’s aspirin poisoning,” Aviva clarified, then helped herself to a cracker and hazelnut spread.
“The results came back too late to save her. They were just telling us how they treat it when she died. It was all really fast and horrible.”
“Your mom must be beside herself.” Taylor felt like she was a record, skipping, but she didn’t know what else to say. Death was horrid. Horrible. Awful. She didn’t want to get any nearer to death than she needed to be.
“She’s in shock,” Aviva said. “It’s going to be really hard when it hits.”
“What about the rest of Reynette’s family? Are they in the area?”
“They’re in shock,” Aviva said.
“They just moved to town.” Cooper held his mug in both hands, though it was still empty. “Her husband and her, anyway. She got a job teaching at Comfort College of Art and Craft.”
“But aspirin overdose, I mean, that’s hardly murder is it?” Taylor pictured the round-faced gentle looking woman she had seen so briefly. Reynette had seemed healthy, not like someone with a drug
problem. And aspirin? That was hardly opioids or some other kind of heavy drug. “What has her husband said?”
“I told you, he’s in shock.” Aviva sounded impatient.
Taylor filled a mug for Aviva and shoved some tea bags her direction.
“They’re talking to the doctors and to the funeral directors. Everyone takes aspirin. Her husband didn’t know why she would have taken so much to make her sick like that, but she has something called sciatica, I think they said. So, the hospital assumes she was taking too much because of the pain.”
“I think you have your answers.” Taylor leaned back on the kitchen counter.
Murder was important and young people, these two were just high schoolers, liked to feel important even when it also felt awful. She remembered the feeling, and though she sympathized with them, she didn’t want to play into it. She wanted to sort them out and send them on their way.
“No.” Cooper’s chin quivered. He looked so young, like he couldn’t grow a mustache if they paid him, and so small for a junior in high school. “Her husband swears there’s no aspirin in their whole house. Says she only ever used Tiger Balm. Only. Listen.” He straightened up, an attempt to look like he wasn’t about to start crying. “If she was poisoned, they are going to think my mom did it because we were the ones with her in the morning.”
“That’s…” Taylor was about to say crazy, but she couldn’t. He was just a kid. He needed a safe adult to talk to and had picked her. Her heart warmed a little. “That’s just not believable to anyone who knows your mom.”
“You’ve got to help us find out what happened. Mom’s going to try, but she doesn’t know what she’s doing. Please. Come home with us tonight and talk to her.”
“I can’t do that, Cooper. I have to be here to take care of Grandpa Ernie.” His rough snoring could just be heard from the other room.
“Tomorrow then?”
Taylor wanted to bundle both of these half-grown people into blankets and set them in front of the TV with comfort food. She wanted to keep them there at the house till they felt all better, but that wasn’t the same thing as being able to give them what they were asking for. “I’ve got work. I can’t just skip a day.”
Bound and Deceased Page 2
