Pattern of Betrayal (Vineyard Quilt Mysteries Book 2) (9 page)

“I don’t suspect it is,” Julie said.

“A
snake
?” Gregory blustered. “Now see here, the situation in this … this hotel of horrors has gotten way out of hand! What if one of us had been bitten? Can you imagine? Another dead body at the inn! Something has to be done.”

“Something is being done.” Julie struggled to keep her voice civil. “A wildlife removal specialist is on his way here to get rid of the snake.”

Julie had braced herself for more complaints when heavy footsteps on the staircase preempted Gregory’s newest attempt to get out of paying his bill.

“You have a snake up here?” an unfamiliar male voice asked.

Thank heavens!
“In here!”

A large, burly man stuck his head in the bathroom.

“Thank you for coming so fast,” Julie said, moving away from the tub to give him room.

The man pointed over his shoulder. “I was down at the end of the block, so I came right over.”

“Is it poisonous?” Sadie asked.

“Nope. Just a black rat snake.”

“Is that bad?” Joyce asked. Her voice held a wistful tone.

“It is if you’re a rat.”

“Oh.” Sadie seemed disappointed.

“If it’s got round pupils, it’s not venomous,” the man said. “Just look at those friendly eyes.”

“Who’s looking at its eyes?” Joyce asked. “I was looking at its flickering tongue.”

“I’ll get out of your way and leave you to it.” Julie stepped out of the room and ushered her guests away from the bathroom door.

Kenneth emerged from his suite and quietly closed the door behind him.

“How’s Susan?” Julie asked him.

He placed one finger over his lips. “Resting.”

“So, what are we going to do about this incompetent innkeeper?” Gregory’s loud voice echoed off the walls in the small space of the hall.

Julie grit her teeth. Either he wasn’t trying to be discreet or he didn’t have a clue how to be. “We’re going to go downstairs to the tearoom,” Julie answered, “where we can talk without disturbing Susan.” She fixed Gregory with a pointed look, fully expecting him to protest. Instead, he gave her a stiff nod and started down the stairs.

Shirley’s eyes widened as everyone made their way into the tearoom. “I thought I heard someone scream,” she whispered to Julie. “Did something happen?”

“You could say that.”

“So.” Gregory crossed his arms over his wide girth and narrowed his eyes at her. “If you and the police are going to force us to stay here, what are you going to do to secure our safety?”

“I am not forcing you to do anything. The police are. And you don’t have to stay here. You just have to stay in town.”

“But if I leave, you’re not giving me a refund, are you?” Gregory challenged.

It was definitely tempting to give in and refund Gregory’s money, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“It says here that black rat snakes will bite if provoked,” Joyce interjected. She had her tablet in hand and was furiously surfing the Web.

Well, it’s a good thing no one provoked it.

“They aren’t venomous,” Shirley said. “They’re constrictors.”

Julie shot her a look.

Shirley just shrugged. “What? I grew up on a farm.”

“I think somebody put it in the bathtub to scare us,” Joyce said.

“Maybe even bite one of us,” Sadie added.

Shirley rolled her eyes.

“Chances are, it crawled in there on its own.” The Critter Guy was standing in the doorway with a wriggling bag in his hand. “Rat snakes are climbers. I’ve taken them out of drain pipes, off of rooftops; even got one out of a chimney once.”

Comforting
, Julie thought.

“So, if the inn has rat snakes, does that mean it has rats?” Gregory asked.

Julie bit back a retort.

“No,” Critter Guy said. “The inn wouldn’t have rats with this baby around.”

With that, Julie jumped up and escorted Critter Guy to the front door while staying as far from the twitching sack as possible.

“What are the real odds that this fellow crawled in here on his own accord?” Julie asked once they were out of earshot of everyone else.

Critter Guy shot her a reassuring smile. “I’d say it’s most likely what happened.”

“So, I wouldn’t necessarily need to contact the police about it?”

He laughed. “Not unless you want ‘em mad at you for wasting their time.”

Everyone, minus Susan, was still gathered in the tearoom when Julie went back inside.

“What do we do now?” Liam asked.

A chorus of concerned murmurs followed his question.

Julie held up her hands to stay the protests. “I’ve been assured that the snake most likely crawled into the tub by itself. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“‘Most likely’?” Gregory snorted. “
That’s
reassuring.”

“You know, I have to admit this weekend is turning out to be much more exciting than I imagined,” Sadie said, her eyes bright.

Joyce nodded.

Kenneth merely smiled. Julie had the feeling that he would have voiced his agreement if he hadn’t feared word would get back to his wife. Susan probably wouldn’t like the fact that her snake scare was a source of entertainment for her husband.

“Since everyone’s together, let’s get a snack and start quilting. Who’s with me?” Julie asked, trying to sound as enthusiastic as possible. Not surprisingly, the responses she received were weak at best.

“Oh sure,” Gregory said. “I relish the thought of quilting with a group of murder suspects.”

“Do you think we should do that, dear? What with Susan still asleep upstairs?” Sadie’s forehead was pinched with concern.

“We wouldn’t want her to feel left out,” Joyce added.

“She’ll be fine,” Kenneth said. “A little nap and she’ll be right as rain.”

Julie hated to admit it, but that was probably the best thing.

Carrie gave a lukewarm shrug of agreement.

Liam simply whistled and rolled up his sleeves.

A wild pop song suddenly blared from Sadie’s purse.

“Ah!” Carrie nearly jumped out of her seat. She quickly recovered and looked down at her hands.

Sadie peeked at her phone. “Another sales call. Sometimes I answer just to toy with them. Tell them I’m going to buy everything then pretend to have a heart attack and hang up. But this is much more entertaining.” She silenced the ringer. “Not a fan of CeCe’s music, dear?” Sadie looked at Carrie.

“Um, it’s fine,” Carrie said, turning two shades of red. “It just startled me.”

With Shirley’s help, they pushed the tables to the outside edges of the room. Hannah had already explained to Julie how the Amish held their quilting frolics. She’d spent a lot of time living near the Amish in Pennsylvania before she joined Julie in the art retrieval world.

The theory was simple; most of the blocks were pieced in advance. Once everyone got together, they sewed the blocks together to make the quilt top. Then they made a “quilt sandwich” with batting in between the top and a white backing fabric. They placed it in a large frame so they could all sit around the frame to quilt the layers together. According to Hannah, this was the perfect gossip time for the Amish women.

Everyone pulled up a chair and threaded their needles. All except for Kenneth. His wife was the quilter in the family. He’d come along strictly for her.

“What did everyone do today?” Julie asked in an attempt to jump-start the conversation.

“Susan and I went to the winery,” Kenneth said.

“Which one?” Julie asked.

He shrugged. “One with good wine.”

“Sadie and I toured a few historic homes,” Joyce said.

“That sounds like fun,” Julie said automatically. The conversations at the inn were often as vanilla as they came, but at least they weren’t talking about murders and snakes. “What about you, Carrie? What did you do?”

“Walked around town a bit, I guess.” The girl pushed her owl-like glasses a little further up onto the bridge of her nose and squinted at Julie.

“How long are we going to do this?” Gregory asked. He had taken up his needle and thread. Though his fingers looked clumsy and awkward, his stitches were carefully executed.

“A couple of hours,” Julie said, tamping down her impatience. “Then you can get ready for dinner.”

Gregory shook his head. “I don’t mean quilt. Pretend that nothing happened.”

“We’re not pretending,” Liam interjected. “We’re just making the best of a lousy situation.”

“Well, I for one think this is ludicrous,” Gregory said.

“If you’re not up for quilting,” Julie said, “why not relax in the library or take in some of the town until dinner is served?”

“I’m going to my room,” Gregory said. Then he stood with a flourish and pushed his chair back under the frame a little too forcefully. “Can’t say I’m looking forward to another dinner in this place.” With a sardonic bow, he pulled the poker
out of the fire tool set next to the fireplace in the tearoom and made his way to the door. “Just in case the killer gets any ideas,” he called over his shoulder, waving the fire poker.

With his departure, some of the tension in Julie’s shoulders seemed to leave as well. She glanced around at the remainder of her guests, heads all bent over their work. That was when it caught her eye. She hadn’t noticed until that very moment that Gregory wasn’t the only one who was “armed.” All of her guests appeared to have makeshift weapons.

Sadie had a knife—a really large knife—sticking out of her purse. Since Sadie and Joyce were rarely seen apart, Julie could only assume they intended to share it.

Liam had a small baseball bat stuck between his belt and waistband like a sword. It was only about eighteen inches long, similar to the kind she’d seen given away as promotions. But Julie supposed it could inflict bodily harm in a pinch.

Kenneth had a can of mega-hold hairspray on his lap.

Whatever Carrie had, she wasn’t revealing it. But Julie thought she had the
look
of someone with a concealed weapon. As she studied Carrie, Hannah’s voice popped into her head and admonished her for letting her imagination run wild. Julie sighed and decided she’d better just address the facts.

“Sadie, I—”

“Yes, dear?” The older lady looked up and met Julie’s gaze, her expression innocent and oddly cheerful.

“I’m not sure it’s appropriate for you to be carrying that knife around the inn. It’s very large … and sharp.” Julie resisted the urge to use the term “small machete” to describe it.

Sadie smiled and then turned her attention back to the quilt block in front of her. “Oh, given the current circumstances, I think it’s more than appropriate.”

Julie tried again. “I understand the need to feel safe. But
there are better ways. Pepper spray, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so, dear. I like my chances with this knife much better.”

“Sadie, I’m sorry, but I cannot allow you to openly carry a weapon like that around the inn. What if you accidentally cut your hand? Or someone else’s hand?”

Sadie looked up again, all wide-eyed innocence. “You want me to put it all the way in my handbag?” She lifted the large white bag and tucked the knife deeper inside.

“I’m afraid not.” Julie held out her hand, palm up. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s from our kitchen.”

“But there’s a murderer staying here.” Sadie whispered the words as if everyone in the room didn’t already know the dark secret.

“I really must insist.”

Sadie looked as if she might protest further, but then her mouth twisted into a disapproving pucker, and she placed the handle of the knife in Julie’s hand.

Joyce leaned over and whispered something in Sadie’s ear. The smaller woman nodded and patted her handbag. Julie could only imagine what other kitchen utensils were hidden inside.

“Thank you,” Julie said. Then she switched her focus to Liam. “Dr. Preston, what did you do today?”

The man everyone knew as Liam Preston didn’t answer. His head remained bent over his work.

“Dr. Preston?” Julie asked again, wondering what he would do if she called him L.P.

His head jerked up. “Yes? Oh, sorry about that. What did you say?”

“I asked what you did this afternoon.”

“I went to the library.”

Kenneth raised his teacup in salute. “Here’s to living life on the edge.”

Liam shot him an irritated look.

“Can I join in?” Shirley didn’t wait for an answer but pulled out the chair Gregory had recently vacated.

Julie smiled as Shirley started doing what Shirley did best—entertain.

“How about I tell you all a little story,” Shirley said.

Kenneth had been slouched in his chair, but his eyes perked up at Shirley’s suggestion. Of all of them, he had to be the most bored. He wasn’t a quilter.

“Enjoy, everyone,” Julie said, standing and brushing the wrinkles from her slacks. “I have a few things to do before dinner.”
Like return the sword Sadie swiped from the kitchen.

Julie paused outside the door, glancing back at the guests as they quilted and listened to Shirley’s story. She couldn’t figure out who seemed to be having the hardest time with their stitching, Joyce or Carrie. She finally decided on Carrie. The poor girl’s face was practically pressed to the fabric as she laboriously executed each stitch. Evidently, the young woman needed a new prescription for her glasses. The one she was using now clearly was not cutting it.