Murder on a Starry Night: A Queen Bees Quilt Mystery Read Online Free Page A

they all feared. A B&B this year, and what would be next? It was the fact that a park on that land would solidify the area near the college as a coveted place to live. It was the loss of control over what happened to their neighborhood and perhaps a dip in property values. And of course, it was money. If Adele held onto the property, others couldn’t make a tidy fortune of their own.
    But Adele had bested them all, finding loopholes in the zoning law for a home that had graced the land before most of Crestwood even existed. It was going to be a bed and breakfast. And there was nothing anyone in all of Crestwood could do about it.
    “People are so mad that I’m almost ashamed we’re helping her,” Kate said to Po as they wandered about the city market late Saturday morning. Kate swallowed a bite of apple. “On the other hand, it’s a fun project.”
    Today’s quilt session had been an enthusiastic one, with ideas for the Harrington quilts bouncing off the walls. In the end, they’d decided to focus on traditional patterns for most of the B&B’s rooms, using old patterns stored away from the
Kansas City Star
newspaper collection. The familiar patterns would be perfect for a bed and breakfast, they’d all agreed. Picking eight from the thousand that had been published would be the hard part.
    “It will be a challenge, Kate. But I agree—lots of fun.” Po stopped at an apple booth and felt the Jonathan apples. They’d be perfect for a pie, she thought.
    Though summer squash had given way to pumpkins and homegrown apples, the market was still buzzing with activities. Situated on the banks of the Emerald River, the open-air market was part of a cleaned-up area that had given rise in recent years to a park and restaurants dotting the downtown area. Run by farmers and residents from around the area who brought in organic produce and herbs and flowers from May to late September, the market was a vibrant place for visitors and townsfolk to gather on sunny Saturday mornings. The smell of fritters and hot coffee filled the air, and on most Saturdays a local group of musicians played in the small white gazebo while children danced on its steps and old folks filled the benches and clapped their hands or nodded to the music.
    Po picked up a jar of pesto sauce and read the hand-lettered label. “You’re right about this B&B causing a fuss,” she said, and told Kate about the neighborhood meeting. “It isn’t making Adele any friends, not that she seems to want them.”
    It had been one week since Adele had dropped her bombshell to the Bees, and for seven days the
Crestwood Daily News
had been full of letters to the editor protesting the decision.
    “You don’t have to tell me what you’re talking about.” Leah walked over to her two friends from a nearby pumpkin stand. “Who would have thought one woman could have created such a stir?” Leah’s denim skirt swept her ankles and a chunky necklace moved on her hand-screened tee shirt as she talked. Leah’s distinctive look of dress and jewelry was often imitated by students who fought tooth and nail to get into her classes.
    “Frankly, Leah, I’ve decided a lot worse things could go in there than a B&B,” Po said. “There will be twelve bedrooms, that’s maybe 25 people at one time plus staff. Not exactly a traffic jam.”
    “Maybe it’s the idea that she’s going to be living here that’s infuriating people,” Kate said. “She isn’t exactly a warm and welcoming inn keeper-type.”
    “There’s some truth in that,” said Po. “But I think it’s the disappointed parties that are causing the furor. People who wanted the property for their own interests.”
    “I can vouch for the college’s fury,” Leah said. “Canterbury U. was Ollie’s second home. He was there daily, even after he finally had a degree in his pocket. I think he came alive under Jed Feller’s tutelage. He was always so patient and encouraging of Ollie and let him sit in on his