I’m pretty tired. I’m going to finish my wine and turn in for the night. I’ll sleep on how to proceed and will have a plan tomorrow morning.”
“Understandable,” Beatrice said grudgingly. “But—one thing. When you do decide how you want to proceed, could you let me know? I want to make sure you’re approaching it in a safe way.”
“Of course,” said Colton, a little stiffly.
• • •
Beatrice was truly exhausted. Under the circumstances, she decided as she stared toward the ceiling after waking when Meadow had come into the room, it was amazing that any of them could sleep. When Meadow had gone to bed, she’d whispered that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. Yet there she was, snoring away in the other twin bed.
Beatrice found that she woke up at every small noise. There were larger noises, too—squeaking doors as various people visited the restroom. She heard Miss Sissy muttering and cackling to herself at one point, along with Posy’s hushed voice saying, “Come along, Miss Sissy. Don’t you want to lie down and rest for a while?” She thought that maybe the next night, if they were all still here, she should offer to switch off with Posy so that maybe Posy could get a little sleep instead of dealing with her resident insomniac roommate.
And so, at breakfast the next morning Beatrice wasn’t feeling as chipper as she ordinarily would. There wasn’t much food left in the pantry that could even be considered in the realm of breakfast food. Beatrice was currently staring with disinterest at the smattering of grits on her plate.
“Eat up!” Meadow commanded. “It’s hot food, Beatrice. And there isn’t much to go around, so you should be grateful for what you have.”
“I know.” Beatrice let out a small sigh. “It’s not that I mind grits—and I’m glad for something warm to eat, too. I just usually have other things in my grits.”
“What? Like shrimp, you fancy thing?” asked Meadow.
“Well, like bacon. Or grated cheese. Or maybe a pat of butter.”
“We’ve totally run out of those things,” Meadow said, gulping down a big spoonful of grits.
Posy said, “Beatrice, I opened the canned salmon and put salmon in my grits. Would you like some? A few of us have been sharing it.”
“Is it good?” asked Beatrice doubtfully.
“We think so. If you like shrimp and grits, you might like this.”
She forked out a little bit of the salmon, mixed it into the grits, and tried a bite. “Mmm. Not bad, actually. And salmon is good for us, of course. I feel like I need a shot in the arm, and this might help provide that.”
“Didn’t you sleep well last night?” asked Meadow, surprised. “I thought you were so tired.”
“I was. But it was harder to sleep than I thought it would be,” Beatrice said.
Winnie took the last bite of her grits and salmon and sighed at the sight of her empty plate. “I don’t think I slept one bit last night. Not one little bit.”
“You at least closed your door last night, though, didn’t you?” asked Beatrice. Surely the woman wasn’t going to just leave her bedroom door wide open with a murderer running around.
“No,” Winnie said scornfully. “I left it wide open and put a welcome mat for the murderer right outside the bedroom door.”
Beatrice ignored her. “Holly, how did Dot sleep last night?”
Holly winced guiltily. “I’m not really sure. I’m afraid I put my headphones on again. I feel pretty safe with Dot in there, so I don’t worry about it. But one time I did hear Dot. It sounded like she was having a nightmare or something . . . lots of moaning and groaning and thrashing around. I woke her up and then went right back to sleep again.”
“Sounds like that ankle was bothering her in her sleep,” Meadow said with a knowing nod. “Probably causing her the bad dreams.”
“Unless, of course, she was having nightmares about being murdered in her bed,” Alexandra said in a dry
“Understandable,” Beatrice said grudgingly. “But—one thing. When you do decide how you want to proceed, could you let me know? I want to make sure you’re approaching it in a safe way.”
“Of course,” said Colton, a little stiffly.
• • •
Beatrice was truly exhausted. Under the circumstances, she decided as she stared toward the ceiling after waking when Meadow had come into the room, it was amazing that any of them could sleep. When Meadow had gone to bed, she’d whispered that she was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink. Yet there she was, snoring away in the other twin bed.
Beatrice found that she woke up at every small noise. There were larger noises, too—squeaking doors as various people visited the restroom. She heard Miss Sissy muttering and cackling to herself at one point, along with Posy’s hushed voice saying, “Come along, Miss Sissy. Don’t you want to lie down and rest for a while?” She thought that maybe the next night, if they were all still here, she should offer to switch off with Posy so that maybe Posy could get a little sleep instead of dealing with her resident insomniac roommate.
And so, at breakfast the next morning Beatrice wasn’t feeling as chipper as she ordinarily would. There wasn’t much food left in the pantry that could even be considered in the realm of breakfast food. Beatrice was currently staring with disinterest at the smattering of grits on her plate.
“Eat up!” Meadow commanded. “It’s hot food, Beatrice. And there isn’t much to go around, so you should be grateful for what you have.”
“I know.” Beatrice let out a small sigh. “It’s not that I mind grits—and I’m glad for something warm to eat, too. I just usually have other things in my grits.”
“What? Like shrimp, you fancy thing?” asked Meadow.
“Well, like bacon. Or grated cheese. Or maybe a pat of butter.”
“We’ve totally run out of those things,” Meadow said, gulping down a big spoonful of grits.
Posy said, “Beatrice, I opened the canned salmon and put salmon in my grits. Would you like some? A few of us have been sharing it.”
“Is it good?” asked Beatrice doubtfully.
“We think so. If you like shrimp and grits, you might like this.”
She forked out a little bit of the salmon, mixed it into the grits, and tried a bite. “Mmm. Not bad, actually. And salmon is good for us, of course. I feel like I need a shot in the arm, and this might help provide that.”
“Didn’t you sleep well last night?” asked Meadow, surprised. “I thought you were so tired.”
“I was. But it was harder to sleep than I thought it would be,” Beatrice said.
Winnie took the last bite of her grits and salmon and sighed at the sight of her empty plate. “I don’t think I slept one bit last night. Not one little bit.”
“You at least closed your door last night, though, didn’t you?” asked Beatrice. Surely the woman wasn’t going to just leave her bedroom door wide open with a murderer running around.
“No,” Winnie said scornfully. “I left it wide open and put a welcome mat for the murderer right outside the bedroom door.”
Beatrice ignored her. “Holly, how did Dot sleep last night?”
Holly winced guiltily. “I’m not really sure. I’m afraid I put my headphones on again. I feel pretty safe with Dot in there, so I don’t worry about it. But one time I did hear Dot. It sounded like she was having a nightmare or something . . . lots of moaning and groaning and thrashing around. I woke her up and then went right back to sleep again.”
“Sounds like that ankle was bothering her in her sleep,” Meadow said with a knowing nod. “Probably causing her the bad dreams.”
“Unless, of course, she was having nightmares about being murdered in her bed,” Alexandra said in a dry