"And very different than when they are full of leaves during the summer. We should come back out and do this again," Beryl said.
"Maybe for each season?" Rebecca asked.
"Absolutely. But I think we'll find another driver."
"Why?" Polly asked. "I brought blankets and coffee and hot cocoa. I'm a great driver."
"You find bodies," Rebecca said, deadpan. "We don't need any more bodies."
Aaron Merritt's SUV drove down the lane to the shelter. She rolled down the window when he approached her truck.
"Good afternoon, ladies. Fancy meeting you here."
"These are surprises that I don't like," Beryl said. "Who gave them permission to do this on my land?"
He shook his head. "I have no idea."
"Do you need me to take you to the spot?" Polly asked.
"I can probably find it from your footprints," he replied. "But if you’ve warmed up enough to take another walk, I'd appreciate it."
"Can I come?" Rebecca asked from the back seat.
Polly looked at Aaron and he looked back at her. "You're going to make me be the bad guy?"
"Not this time," Polly said to Rebecca.
Aaron looked in the truck at the girl. "If there is any evidence along the trail, we need to keep activity to a minimum. But the cemetery will still be there long after we've gone. You can see it another time."
"Okay," Rebecca said with a sigh. She slumped dramatically back in the seat, then sat back up. "Andrew isn't going to believe this. I can't wait to tell him. Can I use your phone and call?" she asked Polly.
"Fine. I'll be back in a minute." She handed her phone to Rebecca and got out of the truck. "You girls stay here. Don't wander off."
CHAPTER TWO
"How about you come in for a while." Beryl said when Polly parked in her driveway.
Polly turned the truck off. "Would you like us to come in?"
"I could make some fresh coffee," Beryl said. "Maybe put a little Irish in it."
Rebecca leaned forward. "Could we? I want to play with the kittens."
"Sure," Polly said with a nod. "We're in no hurry."
Beryl had grown quiet during their ride home; a rare occurrence.
When Polly glanced at her, the woman's face was drawn. "Are you okay?"
Beryl forced a smile. "I suppose. When you're faced with it, it's no laughing matter, is it?"
"Death?" Polly shook her head. "No, it really isn't."
"That's somebody's child in that grave. Someone who didn't expect them to die this early in their life." Beryl put her hand on the door handle and pulled it open. "I need some kitty snuggles, too."
Polly nodded to Rebecca to follow Beryl inside and pulled out her phone. She swiped a call open and waited.
"Hello, dear," Lydia said. "Aaron already called me. I'm in front of Andy's house and we'll be right over."
"To Beryl's? That's where we are."
"That's where we're coming. She's not doing as well as you expected, is she."
Beryl stood at the front door and looked back at Polly while Rebecca went inside. Polly waved.
"I have to go. She's waiting for me."
"Tell her to put on a big pot of coffee. We'll be right there." Lydia ended the call and Polly got out of the truck.
It still floored her that she was friends with these people. How had she gotten so fortunate? They would drop anything when one of the others needed support. Lydia, Beryl and Andy had been close friends for longer than Polly had been alive. That was something else she didn't understand. No one in her life had been around that long.
Beryl waved impatiently and Polly jumped down, closed the door, and walked to meet her.
"Was that the troops?" Beryl asked. "Did you tell them that I'm a pitiful wretch?"
Polly grinned. "I didn't have to say a word. Lydia was already at Andy's house."
"You know," Beryl said, "I was really looking forward to today. I wanted it to be perfect."
"Until I stumbled across a body, it was, wasn't it?"
"I suppose. And this will occupy my mind enough so I don't have to think about the other bad things." Her shoulders sagged a little as she led Polly to the kitchen.
"What else is going on?" Polly asked. "Can I help?"
Beryl shook her head as she took her heavy coat off and draped it across the back of a kitchen chair. "No. I'm being a silly cat-mom." She looked up and gave a wan smile as Rebecca came into the kitchen, carrying the kittens in her arms.
Rebecca held one of them out and Beryl cradled the little thing before pulling it up to her face to kiss its head. When she looked back at Polly, there were tears in her eyes.
"Oh honey," Polly said. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I'm just being overly emotional. I have to take them to see Doc Jackson on Monday. They'll spend the night before being neutered Tuesday morning. Then they have to sleep in a strange place without me and when they wake up, they'll be in pain." She buried her face in the kitten's back. "They won't know what's going on and they'll be scared."
"Everybody there will take great care of them," Polly said. "Marnie and Doc Jackson are wonderful."
Beryl huffed a breath. "You're asking me to be sensible about this. I know they'll be fine. I know they'll be back to normal in a week or so and this will all be behind them. I never promised that I was sane."
Rebecca held the other kitten out to Beryl. "Here. Maybe you need to hold both of them."
"I’m okay," Beryl said, smiling at the girl. "This comes and goes on a fairly regular basis. It's gone now. As long as I don't think about it too much, I function just fine. But I'll tell you right now, Tuesday afternoon can't get here soon enough. I just want it to be over and for them both to come out of surgery healthy and genderless. I’m open-minded that way, you know."
Polly chuckled. "You're a nut. Now, where's the coffee?"
"In the fridge." Beryl pointed at the refrigerator. "I'll let you make it if you give me your coat. Rebecca, take the kittens back downstairs. We'll be there in a few minutes." She handed Hem back to the girl, took Polly's coat, picked up her own, and left the room.
Polly remembered taking Leia in to be spayed. That had been a difficult day for her. Those little fuzz-balls wasted no time to stealing a piece of her heart. She gave her head a quick shake and opened the refrigerator door, then took out the coffee. Beryl's refrigerator was a hoot. Several different flavors of coffee, two half-empty bottles of wine, take-out containers, and a loaf of Sylvie's bread from the bakery. The doors were filled with condiments and bottles of ... Polly had no idea. She picked a jar up and looked at it. Pickled and spicy asparagus. Weird.
The crisper drawers were empty, a butter dish was half full, several jars of jams, two of which had never been opened, and blocks of cheese. She opened the freezer and wasn't surprised to see it filled with frozen dinners and even a couple of frozen pizzas. Polly was going to have to invite Beryl over for more homemade meals.
"Envy my selections?" Beryl asked in Polly's ear.
Polly jumped. "You snuck up on me."
"Well, you're checking up on me. You know I hate to cook."
"I guess I didn't realize it was this bad."
"It's this bad. Now come on. Make that coffee before Lydia shows up or she'll think we're sitting around here moping." Beryl filled the carafe with water and poured it into the coffee pot. "Give me the coffee. You're useless when you're spying on someone."
"I wasn't spying," Polly protested weakly. Yes, she was and she'd been caught.
"Like I haven't been through your kitchen and all of your bathrooms," Beryl said. "Now where do I keep those filters?"
Polly opened a drawer and Beryl laughed. "I'm teasing you. They're right here." She opened the cupboard above the coffee pot and there, sitting by themselves on the lower shelf, surrounded by absolutely nothing, were the filters.
"How do you not have any food in this house?" Polly asked and opened more cupboard doors. She found dishes, glasses and m
ugs, but nothing else.
Beryl opened one last door. "I have cereal. It just isn't that important to me. I won’t cook unless someone twists my arm, so why fill the space with food I'll just have to throw away down the road."
"I suppose that makes sense. It's weird, though. My cupboards are packed full of things I might need someday."
The front doorbell rang and Polly stepped toward the kitchen door.
"It's Lydia. We don't need to show her in. She knows the way." Beryl scooped coffee into the filter and flipped the switch. "There. At least it's brewing." She tapped Polly's shoulder. "And no moping. She'll know right away."
Beryl started toward the living room and turned back to Polly. "Don't tell them about me getting all stupid over those kittens, okay? Lydia doesn't understand and Andy thinks I'm already being ridiculous about them." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "That's what happens when you don't have animals around. You lose your soul."
Polly laughed and shook her head.
"Hallooo," Lydia called out. "Where are you?"
Beryl stepped into the hallway. "We're in the kitchen. I made coffee. Did you bring the whiskey?"
Lydia stopped and put two totes on the floor and pulled her friend into a hug. "I'm so sorry about your day. Aaron called me."
"It didn't happen to me," Beryl said. "I'm alive. Whoever that poor soul is out there is the one who deserves your sympathy." She turned to Polly. "And maybe her. She did the finding."
"Don't you dare get all tough on me, Madame Softy," Lydia said. She reached down and grabbed up the totes again and scooted Beryl back into the kitchen.
Andy was right behind her carrying two more totes. They put them down on the tiny kitchen table and Lydia pointed at the lower cupboard next to the refrigerator. "Have you opened that one yet, Polly?"
Polly shook her head and stepped back. She pulled the cupboard door opened and chuckled. "You have plenty of whiskey. And everything else. Good heavens, woman, it's a full-fledged bar in here." She reached down. "Blackberry brandy? What's this about?"
"That goes in one of my favorite party drinks," Beryl said. She put her hands under her boobs and shook them. "I call 'em Hot Apple Knockers."
"Wait," Polly said with a snort. "What?"
"You heard me. Hot Apple Knockers. Don't be snorting at my knockers. They're all I've got."
"Do you shake your knockers when you serve these knockers?" Polly asked.
Beryl pursed her lips and then said, "That would be embarrassing. Why would I ever embarrass myself like that?"
Polly looked for help from Andy and Lydia and they both just looked at her with smiles on their faces. "No help?" she asked.
"There are thirty bottles of alcohol in that cabinet and you chose the blackberry brandy. You asked for it," Lydia said.
Andy pulled a baguette out of one of the totes. "Did you girls eat anything today? I know how this woman is when she's focused on her artwork. She loses all sense of time."
"And Polly isn't much better if she's finding bodies." Rebecca stood in the doorway. "I heard you come in. Hi there."
"Hello dear," Lydia said. "Did you find scenery to sketch before Polly did her thing?" She and Andy continued to empty the totes, filling the table and counter tops."
"Do you want to see what I did?" Rebecca asked.
"Of course," Lydia responded. She put a casserole dish in the refrigerator and closed the door. "I'll be back." She put her hand on Rebecca's back as they walked out.
"She's a good grandma," Beryl said.
"Did you find anything interesting to draw today?" Andy asked.
Beryl laughed. "You're a good grandma, too. And yes, we had fun with our pencils and I even snuck in a little charcoal training." She shook her head. "That girl is a natural artist. She’s a joy to work with. I hope you plan to encourage her to do something with this."
"She can do whatever she wants," Polly said. "I want her to be a physicist or an astronaut, an artist or an actress. I just want her to always do her very best and find happiness."
Lydia's phone began to ring. Polly picked it up and saw that it was Aaron. She grinned and showed it to Beryl and Andy. "Should I?"
"If you don't, I will," Beryl said.
Polly swiped the call open. "Hello, sweet-ums, how are you?"
"Lydia?" Aaron asked, confusion evident in his voice.
"Oh, honey-bear, don't you know who this is?" Polly asked.
"Polly Giller, what are you doing on my wife's phone?"
She laughed. "We kidnapped her. She won't be allowed to leave until she's baked many goodies and hugged many necks."
"She's good at all of that," he said with a laugh. "Are you at Beryl's? Lydia was planning to go over there when I talked to her."
"They just got here with totes full of food. Lydia's looking at Rebecca’s sketches from this morning."
Aaron grew serious. "I need to speak with Beryl. You’re going to be there for a while?"
"Sure, what's up?" Polly walked out of the kitchen to the living room where she found Rebecca and Lydia on Beryl's sofa, flipping through the morning's sketchbook while May and Hem wrestled on the couch beside Rebecca.
"We have an identity of the man you found and I want to ask Beryl if she knows who it is. Don't say anything to her yet, though. You don't need to upset her. I'll do that."
"Sure. We'll be here," Polly said. "Did you want to talk to Lydia?"
"It's okay. Tell her I'm on my way and to save me something good to eat. I forgot to get lunch today."
"Got it. See ya." Polly reached over and handed the phone to Lydia. "That was Aaron. He's on his way here. There's something he wants to talk to Beryl about."
"Is everything okay?" Lydia asked.
"I think so."
Lydia stood up. "You are quite talented, Rebecca. This is beautiful."
"Thank you," Rebecca said. She flipped the sketchbook closed and then looked at Polly. "Did you want to see it?"
Polly tried to read her daughter. Rebecca didn’t sound as if she wanted Polly to see what she'd drawn but was being polite because Lydia had seen it. "You know I love looking at what you do, but if you'd rather wait..." She let the sentence trail off.
"There are just a few things I want to touch up," Rebecca said. She put it down on the table in front of her and picked one of the kittens up. "They're a lot of fun when they're little like this. Look at her. She just melts into my arms."
Polly nodded. "You stay with them while we get things ready in the kitchen. If the doorbell rings, it's Aaron. I don't know if he'll let himself in or not."
"Is somebody in Beryl's family in trouble?" Rebecca asked.
"I don't know. We'll see what he says." Polly turned to go back to the kitchen, nearly tripping on Miss Kitty who had come down from upstairs to see what the commotion was.
"Hey there, Miss Kitty," Polly said. "How are things going with the kittens?"
If the cat had a response, Polly wasn't sure what it was, so she stepped around it a couple of times as they made their way out to the kitchen.
"There you are," Beryl said. "I'll bet you're hungry. Where have you been hiding?"
"Not talking to me?" Polly asked.
"Ptaw," Beryl huffed out with a laugh. "Were you hiding from us and feeling sorry for yourself because no one came looking? You have to announce the game of hide and seek with this group. We're too old to catch on to those subtle hints you young people throw out there." She picked Miss Kitty up and put her on the counter, then turned and winked at Polly with a wicked grin on her face.
"I don't know why you let those cats on the counter," Andy said.
"Right on cue," Beryl said. "Because the kittens will eat her food if it's on the floor. They can't climb up here yet, so she gets a meal in peace. And don't you forget, Missy, this is their house, not yours. Got it?"
Andy sighed. "That's why I bring these." She pulled a wipe from a plastic canister and wiped the kitchen table off.
Polly knew these women were frien
ds, but was shocked at Andy's behavior in Beryl's kitchen.
It must have shown on her face because Beryl patted her arm. "Don't worry. I get her back every opportunity I can grab. She fusses over my cats and I fuss over her fussiness. Organization and cleanliness does not mean she's a better person than I am. It just means that she wastes her time on boring things." Beryl poked Andy in the arm. "Am I right or what?"
"A whole lot of what," Andy replied.
"Blah, blah, blah." Beryl opened the cupboard under the sink and took out a bag of cat food, then poured some into a small dish. In a split second, two small kittens were in the kitchen with them. One of them jumped up on a chair and then on to the table.
"Get down, you cat," Lydia said, trying to protect a plate of meat. The other jumped up on another chair and before it could climb onto the table, Polly snatched it up and tucked it into her arms.
"They have no manners yet," Beryl said, cackling like a madwoman. "You'll want to put the human food on the stove top. They aren't used to having all of those scents around."
Lydia gathered up the platter and was trying to wave the kitten away.
Polly chuckled and reached over to snag that one up with her other hand. "I've got them," she said. The first kitten was doing its best to wriggle out of her arms and back to the table, but Polly walked out of the kitchen and handed the two to Rebecca, who was coming down the hallway.
"They're creating chaos," Polly said. "Can you corral them?"
"We'll go downstairs. I'll put them in their room." She poked her head in the kitchen. "Is that okay, Beryl?"
Beryl was still laughing. "That's fine for now. Thank you, sweetie."
"Why didn't you do that in the first place?" Andy asked.
"Because it's a lot more fun watching you get frustrated over things you can't manage," Beryl said. "So there. I thought you two were supposed to be coming over to take care of me. How is harassing me about my kitties taking care of me?"
Unexpected Riches (Bellingwood Book 13) Page 2
