Read Online Murders on Elderberry Road: A Queen Bees Quilt Mystery by Sally Goldenbaum - Free Book Online Page B

one night. Thank God for Max Elliott. He was working in his office across the street and heard the ruckus.” Selma looked at her assistant again. “As quiet as Susan seems, there’s a tigress beneath that Grace Kelly facade. She made plenty of noise. Anyway, Max rushed out and chased the fellow off. Then he went to Owen, and the next thing we knew, we had our very own Elderberry Road security guard.”
    “Max is a good man,” Susan said in a soft voice.
    “I agree that Wesley’s a peculiar sort, but he seems harmless enough. His bulk alone would frighten anyone off, so he doesn’t need to do much. He’s noisy, though, so he could very well be the cause of Sparky’s barking,” Selma said.
    “I think he sometimes has a nip or two,” Susan said.
    “Or five or six. In fact, he recently fell right smack onto a garbage can. Smashed the side in flatter than a pancake. We were having our ‘sweat-sock’ meeting that night and he scared the life out of us. Owen was fit to be tied. He threatened to fire him. In fact, I think he would have, if …” Her words fell off. “If he hadn’t been killed” hung in the still air.
    “Maybe someone should fire him,” Kate said.
    “He’s better than nothing,” Selma answered. “And I think Owen overreacted. There’ve been times when I’ve been glad to see Wesley standing in the alley while I got safely inside my car. And as clumsy as he can be, he’s a warm body. A big noisy one, but a body.”
    “Speaking of noisy, those ESOC meetings could have been what Hans heard,” Susan said. “They get kind of noisy, and you were meeting that night.”
    “We do get noisy sometimes,” Selma agreed. “I guess we can be a cantankerous group.”
    “What do you talk about?” Kate asked. She looked at the two small triangles she had stitched together and frowned at the misaligned point. Slowly, she began to pull the stitching out. As the least experienced quilter, Kate had chosen the easiest star center for her block. But points, Kate had learned, were difficult, no matter what.
    “We talk about everything,” Selma said. “Hiring security guards, repairing roofs, fixing rain gutters. Insurance.”
    “Owen was one of your directors?” Eleanor asked. She had come back into the room, leaning lightly on her hand-carved cane, after exploring Selma’s new delivery of hand-died batiks. She sat down at an empty spot near Kate.
    “Yes, he was,” Selma said. “We elect three directors so we don’t all have to meet on every tiny detail. This year it was Owen, Daisy, and Ambrose. We’re meeting soon to select someone to take Owen’s place.”
    “Would you be a candidate, Selma?” Po asked.
    “Not on your sweet life, Po. You’ve been around long enough to know all these folks on the block. Decisions don’t come by us easily and the less involved I have to be, the better. I have my hands full keeping up this shop. Besides, I detest those meetings. The group meets far more than I can stomach, and if you’re a director, you meet even more often.”
    “But surely you have a say in what decisions are made regarding the shops, don’t you?” The thought of Ambrose Sweet and some of the others making decisions that affected Selma’s store bothered Po.
    “Selma should have the biggest say.” Susan spoke up before Selma could answer. “We have the most frontage, and when they decide about snow removal and sidewalk repair and window awnings, well, it affects us financially more than some of the others.”
    Po noticed Susan’s use of “we” and she smiled to herself. That was good. Selma needed someone else who cared as much about the store as she did. Someone to carry that burden of care and attention.
    “Why should you have to pay more, Po?” Kate asked.
    “Well, it’s the way it works. Each of the owners pays a certain amount into the CAM fund — that’s legal gibberish for community area maintenance. The amount we pay is based on square footage, and with all my