High Marks for Murder (A Bellehaven House Mystery Book 1) by Kate Kingsbury Page A

hope of that." Mrs. Wilkins turned back to the table and started kneading a mound of pastry on the floured board. "Empty-headed the two of them. I don't know which one's worse. Olivia, the ring leader, or Grace, the faithful follower."
    Meredith finished her tea and put down the cup. "Well, it won't hurt to try."
    Felicity got up and had reached the door when Mrs. Wilkins answered, "Nearly got arrested, they did. Joined in that suffragette protest in Witcheston. Grace knocked down a bobby and they had to run for their lives."
    Felicity's face lit up. "Well, there's more gumption to those girls than I'd thought."
    "Well, lucky for them no one caught them. Spent most of the day stuck in a coal cellar and had to walk half the way home, they did."
    Meredith frowned. "I sincerely hope the experience taught them a lesson."
    "I doubt it. Couple of daredevils, them two are. Don't know what they'll be up to next, that I don't."
    "I'm sure you'll be able to manage them." Meredith rose from her chair. "Thank you, Mrs. Wilkins. The scones were delicious, as always."
    She followed Felicity, who sailed out the door and didn't stop smiling until after they parted company at the top of the stairs.
    The tiny church was filled to capacity the following afternoon. Meredith sat between Felicity and Essie as usual, and couldn't seem to tear her gaze away from Kathleen'sempty spot in the front pew. It was difficult to imagine the body of her dear friend lying lifeless inside the flower-draped coffin at the altar.
    She kept hoping the ghost would appear, though she had no idea how she would communicate with her in full view of the congregation. It seemed the whole town had attended the service to commemorate Kathleen's passing.
    The overcast sky cast a gloom over the graveyard as the coffin was lowered into its final resting place. It seemed to Meredith as if even the sun mourned the death of the beloved woman.
    The pupils, all fifty of them, stood with bowed heads in respectful silence. Kathleen would have been most gratified to see that.
    Mrs. Wilkins had set up a lavish array of refreshments in the assembly hall, and people milled about, mingling with the pupils and talking in hushed voices.
    Meredith was in no mood to socialize and after a decent interval, excused herself and left to retire to her room. On the way there she caught up with Sylvia Montrose, who also appeared to be retiring.
    "So sad," Sylvia said, when Meredith greeted her. "I didn't know the lady, but I can see how much she was admired and respected."
    "Kathleen Duncan was loved by a good many people." Meredith fell in step beside Sylvia as they made their way down the long corridor to the stairs. "She was dedicated to her work at Bellehaven. She will be missed."
    "It will be difficult to follow in her footsteps."
    Sylvia sounded subdued, and Meredith felt quite sorry for her. "I'm sure you will be more than capable. After all, you are at liberty to set your own patterns, and instill your own methods. The only thing I ask is that you teach flowerarranging in your class. Kathleen loved her flowers so. In fact, she could get quite—" She broke off as a thought suddenly occurred to her.
    Sylvia looked at her with curious eyes. "Quite what?"
    "Oh." Meredith collected herself. "I was going to say that Kathleen could get quite irritated with anyone who mistreated her beloved blossoms." She smiled at Sylvia. "If you will excuse me, I've just remembered something that needs my immediate attention."
    She hurried off, aware that Sylvia Montrose stared after her in confusion. Not that it bothered her for long. Talking about Kathleen's love of flowers had jogged her memory. She remembered a comment made by one of Kathleen's charges.
    The teacher had been incensed when one of her pupils had mistaken weeds for flowers. So much so that in church on Sunday morning Meredith had remembered her friend complaining about it the night before—the same night she had been murdered.
    Kathleen had also