Quilt Trip: A Southern Quilting Mystery Read Online Free PDF Page B

pantry doors. “My tummy is starting to really growl at me. Hmm. If we want traditional breakfast food, it looks like there is cereal. Or we could have bread with butter . . . No toast, though, obviously. Otherwise, we’re going to start getting into cold canned soup.”
    Holly laughed. “I’m hungry, too, but the thought of having cold chicken noodle soup at eight thirty in the morning isn’t doing anything for me.”
    “Well, there is milk in the ice chest outside. And maybe Muriel will have other ideas for breakfast foods,” suggested Beatrice. “Has anyone heard her up and about this morning?”
    Alexandra Starnes entered the kitchen and raised her eyebrows when she heard Beatrice’s question. “Mother isn’t up yet? Age must finally be getting to her. She was always up with the chickens. Used to drive me nuts.”
    Beatrice suddenly felt uneasy. “Alexandra, maybe you’d better check on her.”
    “That’s not necessary, is it?” Alexandra said. “She’s an old, sick woman and she said herself that she was very tired yesterday.”
    “Then I’ll check on her,” said Beatrice. Alexandra’s attitude made her furious. She couldn’t imagine having a daughter like her. Her Piper had always been loving and caring. She was in California, visiting Meadow’s son, but Beatrice knew that as soon as Piper tried calling her and couldn’t reach her she’d start frantically calling around. She hated putting her daughter through that.
    The unspoken criticism stung Alexandra and she moved quickly to the kitchen door. “Never mind. I’ll do it.”
    By this time, the rest of the quilters and Colton Bradshaw had come downstairs.
    “Good morning, everyone!” Meadow said cheerfully. “It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”
    Winnie groused, “Beautiful and cold. I don’t think we’ll get much melting this morning.”
    “Did anyone get a signal on their phone?” asked Posy, an anxious frown creasing her brow. “I’m sure Cork must be beside himself with worry now. I hope my sub from yesterday will run the shop today so the quilters can buy their supplies.”
    “I tried but couldn’t get a signal,” said Beatrice. “What’s more, my phone’s battery is about to die now.”
    They talked a little about how long it would take their close friends and family to wonder where they were, but were interrupted by a pale-faced Alexandra. She stood stiffly in front of them, mindlessly twisting her watch around her wrist.
    “Mother’s dead,” she said quietly.

Chapter Four
     
    The group gave a collective gasp.
    “But she was fine last night!” said Meadow. “Tired, but healthy enough. Are you sure?”
    “I think I can tell when someone’s not breathing,” said Alexandra haughtily. Beatrice was struck again by her lack of emotion. Yes, she appeared surprised or concerned, but hardly grief-stricken.
    Colton Bradshaw seemed more like he’d been dealt a blow. “I don’t believe you. I’m going up to see for myself.”
    Alexandra shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
    Beatrice jumped up and hurried to catch up with Colton, who was already halfway up the stairs.
    “It can’t be. It would be too convenient,” muttered Colton, almost to himself. “Her dying like this. With all of us here. And under the circumstances.”
    Beatrice frowned. “What do you mean, ‘under the circumstances’? My understanding was that Muriel suffered from a terminal illness.”
    But Colton tightened his lips and moved faster toward Muriel’s room.
    Alexandra had left the door ajar and Colton pushed it the rest of the way open. The room was huge and so was Muriel’s bed. Although she hadn’t been a small woman and was very imposing when she spoke, she seemed tiny in the massive canopied bed with the heavy curtain, tremendous headboard, and thickly columned bedposts.
    For all his hurrying before, Colton now hung back in the doorway, so Beatrice walked up to Muriel. The bedsheets covered her smoothly, as if she’d been