Murder by Yew (An Edna Davies Mystery #1)(16)

“Oh, no … that’s fine,” she stammered, bringing her mind back to the present. She’d been thinking of the skiing accident that had taken Michele’s life. “That sounds like a good idea. You can meet Karissa before we descend on them in November.”

“You don’t mind then about my being away longer than expected?”

Edna gave a short laugh. “Of course not, Albert. Give Jilly-bean a big hug for me.” She sighed, thinking of her eight-year-old granddaughter Jillian. “I wish I were going to be with you, though.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she wanted to grab them back. She could almost recite Albert’s response word-for-word.

“I keep telling you there’s all kinds of help for people who are afraid to fly.” His tone was light, but she knew he didn’t understand her phobia—how weak her knees got or how nauseous she felt at the mere thought of stepping into an airplane. Ever since she could remember, whenever she saw a plane overhead, she would imagine it falling out of the sky. The image was so real, she would actually see the mechanical bird begin to fall and would have to look away.

She and Albert had been planning to drive to Denver in two months to meet their new daughter-in-law and spend some time with the family. It would have been almost a year since they had seen Grant and Jillian. Of course, they had received copies of the wedding pictures and had spoken with the family on the phone, but it wasn’t the same as being together, watching Karissa with their son and granddaughter.

“Listen, Edna, I’ve gotta run. People are waiting for me. Dinner at some new steakhouse in town. Love you, Sweetheart.”

Before she had time to protest, Edna heard the line disconnect. Still thinking of Grant and Jillian, it was several minutes before she realized she hadn’t had a chance to tell Albert about Tom.

Once in bed, she felt depressed, worried about Tom and missing Albert. She hadn’t yet acclimated to the creaks and groans of her new house, and she wasn’t used to sleeping without her husband beside her. As a result, she spent a fitful night and awoke Friday morning feeling groggy. Only the thought of her appointments that morning prevented her from rolling over and going back to sleep.

The cleaning women would arrive at eight-thirty, and as of this morning, she had a weekly hair appointment at nine. Tuck had helped get her scheduled with both the Housekeeper Helpers and The Locks Shoppe. Ordinarily, the cleaners spent the whole of Friday at the Tucker estate, but when the Davieses moved to town, Tuck volunteered to give up three hours to them. Edna was grateful.

Also, since Tuck was a good customer of long standing at one of the more popular beauty salons in town—all cuts were money-back guaranteed, she had asked the manager to work Edna in at the same scheduled appointment time. This particular morning, they were meeting another of Tuck’s friends who was having her hair done at the salon. Until her retirement last year, Peppa had been a town librarian for almost forty years, and Tuck thought her two friends would hit it off. She said it might be fun if the three of them got together for brunch as a regular Friday morning activity.

Although appreciating Tuck’s efforts on her behalf, Edna knew it was in large part because of her recent widowhood that Helen Tucker wanted to keep busy and surround herself with people. While she was still new to the community, Edna didn’t mind Tuck’s managing her social schedule. Albert, who had graduated from the nearby University of Rhode Island, already knew many people in the area and spent most days on the golf course with his old cronies. So far, except for her art instructor and fellow classmates, Edna knew only the wives of Albert’s friends. Once she established herself, however, she would take care of her own social calendar.

Glancing at the clock, Edna was shocked to see how long she had been daydreaming. She would have to hurry if she were to dress and make coffee before the cleaners arrived. This week, as previously arranged, they were starting a half hour early because the owner, Beverly Lewis, had plans for the weekend. She had wanted to cancel, but Edna persuaded them to come for a couple of hours. She was hosting the bimonthly art class on Saturday afternoon and needed help getting the house ready.

The Housekeeper Helpers were on time, as usual, walking into the kitchen from the mudroom just as Edna finished rinsing out her coffee cup. Although pleasant enough, Beverly Lewis was a tough-looking woman in her late forties. Of medium height and somewhat overweight, she wore loose khaki slacks and a pink, short-sleeved overblouse that did nothing for her splotchy complexion. Junie Williams was large-boned, and at just shy of six feet, she was several inches taller than her boss. Edna thought the teenager would be more attractive if she stood up straight and tied her stringy brown hair back from her face.

According to what Tuck had confided to Edna, Beverly had moved to town last fall, advertising reliable housecleaning. She had hired a local girl to work for her and, rumor was, paid her well. Leslie Anne Williams, known as Junie practically from birth, had been fresh out of high school with no particular skills or ambitions. Her family had been delighted with the change in her, happy that Junie had discovered something she enjoyed.

Helen Tucker had also filled Edna in on Junie’s family. The Williamses, mostly fishermen, had lived in the area for several generations. They were a large, boisterous and popular family. Beverly had picked well. Thanks mostly to Junie’s family’s connections and referrals, Housekeeper Helpers had all the business they could handle. Of course, it boosted business considerably when Muriel Shaeffer, long-suffering housecleaner for several prominent people in the area, retired and moved to Florida last spring.