Tying the Knot by Elizabeth Craig Page B

visiting Eleanor tomorrow, right? And you’ve spoken to Lyla. Who else is there?”
    â€œI’d really like to speak with your doctor friend,” said Beatrice. “Although I’m not really sure how best to manage that.”
    â€œPity you don’t have any problems with your gallbladder,” said Meadow thoughtfully.
    â€œUgh. I’ll pass, thanks,” said Beatrice.
    â€œDr. Finley does volunteer at Wyatt’s church pretty frequently, but I don’t know when. We couldn’t even really ask Wyatt about the doctor’s church volunteering times if it meant we were going to ambush him with questions about a murder. Wyatt probably wouldn’t go in for that,” Meadow said.
    She was now so deeply in thought that she was no longer focusing on the road in front of her. “Meadow!” hissed Beatrice, putting a hand on the wheel to help yank the van back on their side of the road.
    Meadow ignored this intrusion by Beatrice. She snapped her fingers. “I know. Dr. Finley was trying to convinceme to get more exercise.” Meadow looked down in exasperation at her solid shape. “Anyway, he said that if I set an appointment for exercise, I’d have an easier time keeping up with it.”
    â€œAn appointment? Like, with a personal trainer?”
    â€œWell, yes. That, too. But he was thinking more of a casual setup. He said that if I made a set day and time to meet a friend for a walk or a swim at the indoor pool or an aerobics class, that would help me keep up with the exercising. And he
said
”—Meadow paused for maximum impact—“that he always meets a friend of his for racquetball at the community center every Friday morning.”
    Beatrice was impressed. “That’s some memory you have, Meadow.”
    â€œNot really. I remember because I realized that’s why I could never get in to see Dr. Finley on a Friday morning. It annoyed me and stuck in my mind. So maybe you should accost him in the community-center parking lot on Friday,” suggested Meadow. “I could go with you, to explain that you assist Ramsay with his inquiries.”
    â€œIs that what I’m doing?” asked Beatrice dryly. “I thought I was simply being nosy. Will we stake out the place and see if we spot him?”
    â€œWe can even stand by his car, if you want. He’s got one of those vanity tags, so he’s easily recognizable. Doctor Number 1,” said Meadow, spelling out the number abbreviation. “It does sort of stand out. And it’s a Mercedes, I think.”
    â€œThinks rather highly of himself, doesn’t he?” Beatrice shook her head.
    â€œHe’s a great surgeon, so I guess he can get away with it. But, no, I wouldn’t have said that he has an inferiority complex or anything. Okay, so that takes care of Dr. Finley and Eleanor. Were you . . . going to speak to Daniel?” Meadow asked delicately.
    â€œDo you think I should?” asked Beatrice.
    â€œWell, I know it’s a touchy area—him being family and all.”
    Beatrice gritted her teeth. It was most annoying when Meadow’s matchmaking extended to the point where she made far-reaching and blanket statements on relationships. She’d gotten better about handling it, though. Beatrice took a deep breath and said, “But what makes you think I should talk with Daniel?”
    â€œBecause Ramsay and the SBI are talking to him. Think about it. Daniel pushed Trevor out as best man. There were hard feelings there, big feelings. It’s worth the police pursuing and worth your pursuing, too. Besides, I get the feeling that Daniel is hiding something. I’d really like to know what it is. Wouldn’t you?” asked Meadow as she pulled the van into Beatrice’s driveway.
    Beatrice found herself nodding in response. Yes, she thought Daniel was hiding something. He’d known Trevor for a long time—it would have