A Murder of Taste: A Queen Bees Quilt Mystery by Sally Goldenbaum Page A

she just liked quilts and bought it somewhere?” Janna offered. Phoebe stopped talking, startled at the first words to come from their quiet guest’s mouth. They had almost forgotten she was there.
    “But how did she get it?” Kate asked. “That’s the real mystery here. How did Esther’s quilt get to the east coast?”
    “Maybe Laurel got it around here, at some auction or flea market. I’ve found some of my favorite fat lady art that way,” Maggie said. Maggie’s collection of fat lady art had grown over the past couple of years, and included more than twenty pieces. The Bees all added to it whenever they came across statues or postcards or paintings, and the beauty of the Rubenesque figures enchanted them all.
    “Or E-bay. There are hundreds of quilts on E-bay,” Eleanor said. “My cousin Madeline is addicted. Buys one a week.”
    “But Picasso says the quilt’s been with her since he’s known her,” Kate said. “That may pre-date E-bay’s popularity.”
    “I knew so little about Esther Woods,” Selma said, “other than her quilting talent. And that she was married to the poorest excuse for a man that I’ve ever seen.”
    While the gathering around the table continued to pick away at the mystery of Esther’s quilt, Susan and Leah carefully pinned some partially sewn sections of appliqué to a corkboard on the wall.
    Po watched them out of the corner of her eye while keeping one ear to the conversation swirling around the table. “It’s going to be beautiful!” she said, breaking away from the conversation. “Picasso will be so pleased.”
    Susan and Leah stepped back and looked at their handiwork. They had sewn the body of the two fish above Po’s blocks, which were taking shape in a design of subtly patterned fabric triangles in all different shades of black and silver and deep, shiny gray. The blend of colors and placement of the triangles made the pot appear round on the edges, a perfect boiling cauldron for the colorful fish.
    “The colors will go well with the rustic look of the bistro,” Eleanor said. “It’s quite perfect.”
    “How nice of all of you to do this for him,” Janna said.
    “He’s a friend,” Po answered simply. Janna seemed surprised at the friendship bonds, and Po was determined to see that she felt the strength of those bonds, too.
    “I’ve an idea I want to run by all of you,” Selma said, standing beside the quilt pieces pinned to the wall. “Next Friday I’m having a display of appliqué quilts for the first Friday event, and I thought I might use Picasso’s quilt to show a work in progress.”
    “Great idea!” Phoebe said, helping herself to the last piece of crumb cake. The others echoed her support, and Susan offered to figure out how to display it.
    During the school year, weekends brought many visitors to Crestwood for Canterbury College events, and the Elderberry shop owners had taken to scheduling special events each first Friday of the month. The stores offered special sales, displays, and sometimes lectures or demonstrations.
    Selma’s quilt displays were a big draw and brought many parents and alumni to the Elderberry shops. In nice weather, especially, the crowds were considerable and flowed onto the small patio areas beside the Brew and Brie and along the street.
    “This is good timing,” Po said. “First Fridays are festive, and Elderberry Road could use a little festivity right now.”
    “Agreed,” Maggie said, settling down next to the sewing machine at the end of the table. “And I for one, will have—”
    A rattle at the back door stopped Maggie’s words mid-sentence, and before anyone could get up to open it, Picasso burst into the room. The first thing Po noticed was that he was dressed much better today, his jeans freshly laundered and his apron clean. But the look on his face was anything but ordinary.
    “Picasso,” she said, “what is it? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
    “No, not a ghost, Po.”
    Kate moved