Read A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) Online
Authors: Arlene Sachitano
Tags: #FIC022070/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Cozy, #FIC022040/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths
A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery)
Acknowledgments
Thank you to everyone who supports my writing process, from the idea phase through the work of writing and the never ending promotional activities. My friends, family and business associates. I’d like to especially like to thank Jack and Linne Lindquist for hosting me in their booth, The Craftsman’s Touch, at many large quilt events. Thanks also to Deon and Rich Stone-house at Sunriver Books and Music for our annual event.
Domestic violence is a serious subject and I’ve made every attempt to base my story in fact and to that end researched the subject before starting my story. Any errors are my own. The memory retrieval in my story is based on research I found on the Internet. The research is in its early phase and may or may not work as easily as I portrayed it or at all.
As always, many thanks to Liz and the team at Zumaya Publications for all the work they do on my behalf. Thank you, too, to my brilliant cover artist April Martinez.
Chapter 1Last but not least, thank you to my spouse Jack, our children and our children’s children.
Lauren Sawyer set her messenger bag next to the wing-back chair as she sank into the seat.
“I can’t believe I’m sitting in your quilt studio at o-dark-thirty on a Wednesday morning and I don’t even know why.”
Harriet Truman kept a tea and coffee setup on a library table opposite the entrance and reception area of her long-arm quilting studio. However, she’d moved the cream and assorted sweeteners to the smaller pie-crust table that sat between the two upholstered chairs when she saw Lauren coming up the driveway.
Lauren scooped a heaping spoonful of sugar into her coffee cup.
“I’m not sure even coffee with sugar is going to get me through this…” She waved her hand. “…whatever kind of meeting it is.”
“Aiden said it was important,” Harriet poured hot water over the teabag she’d put into her mug and sat down in the other chair. “That’s
good
enough for me.”
“That’s big of you, all things considered.” Lauren looked at Harriet over the edge of her cup as she sipped.
“I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt. He’s going to counseling, which is a big step for him. He and the counselor decided he needs to take one thing at a time. First, he’ll deal with his sister and all her baggage—his brother’s going with him for support on that one. After they’ve sorted that out, we’ll work on
our
rela
tionship. In the meantime, the
counselor says it’s okay if we see each other, as long as we keep things superficial for now. No decisions or big talks.”
“Aren’t we just the grownup in the relationship…oh, wait, you
are
the grown-up. How much older than him are you? Nearly old enough to be his mother?”
“Oh, stop,” Harriet swatted at her across the table. “You know very well it’s ten years. And it’s too early for you to be poking at my insecurities.”
Lauren blew across the surface of her coffee and took another sip.
“You’re safe for now.” She pointed to the window. “Someone else just pulled in.”
Mavis Willis, who at seventy-one was the oldest member of the Loose Threads, came through the door a moment later.
“I hope you have coffee on.”
“Right here,” Harriet said and indicated the carafe on the table between her and Lauren.
“You
are
going to tell us what this is all about, aren’t you?” Mavis asked.
She poured herself a cup of coffee as Harriet got up and let her have the more comfortable chair, sliding over one of her rolling worktable chairs for herself.
“I was just telling Lauren I’ve told you everything I know, which is nothing. Aiden just said to ask everyone to get here early because he wanted to ask something of us, and he had surgery starting at eight.”
“You know, honey, your aunt Beth wouldn’t be offended if you reupholstered these two old chairs now that you own the studio. She didn’t like this floral when she bought them secondhand twenty years ago.”
“She’s welcome to do any upholstery projects on my behalf she wants to, but I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now.”
Lauren and Mavis didn’t get to hear what those fish were because Robin McLeod and DeAnn Gault came in followed by Connie Escorcia and Harriet’s Aunt Beth.
Harriet was glad to see Robin—she was a stay-at-home mom and part-time yoga teacher, but she kept her license to practice law current just in case a need arose among her friends and family. It was to be hoped her skills wouldn’t be needed this morning, but since Aiden hadn’t told Harriet anything, it was nice to be prepared.
Connie took off her coat and draped it over the back of another rolling chair, moving it into the circle. She shivered and rubbed her hands together.
“I’m having flashbacks of the early-morning staff meetings at the grade school,” she said. “I never understood why the fourth-, fifth- and sixth-grade teachers got the afternoon meeting time just because their kids were older than ours. By the way, Jenny isn’t going to be here. She’s meeting with family in Lynwood.”
“I don’t envy her those discussions,” Mavis said and shook her head.
“They’ve been estranged for so long, you wonder if everyone might be better off letting it be,” Connie suggested.
“If I were them, I’d want to reconnect, no matter how painful it might be at first,” Beth said.
“Are we going to be doing any stitching while we’re here?” DeAnn asked. “I took the boys to early drop-off at school, and my mom took Kissa for the whole morning, since we weren’t sure what was going on.”
“I don’t have anything pressing for the morning, so everyone’s welcome to stay and stitch if they want,” Harriet offered. She knew everyone in her quilt group would have at least one hand-stitching project in her purse or in a bag in her car.
Robin looked like she was about to speak when Aiden arrived. He took his fleece jacket off and tossed it toward an empty chair as he strode over to the coffee carafe.
“I hope you ladies didn’t drink all the coffee,” he said as he tilted the container. “Carla’s right behind me. She was doing a drive-by at the coffee shop to get Wendy a hot chocolate. I offered to do it for her, but she told me she was the housekeeper and I was the boss and left before I could argue.”
“That was bold of her,” Lauren said.
“She’s getting real cheeky,” He looked around the circle of women. “I’m guessing that’s thanks to the influence of you all.” He stirred sugar into his cup then stepped into the middle of the circle of chairs to address the group, who were now all sitting with coats off, leaning forward with coffee mugs clutched in their hands.
“You’re probably wondering why we’re here,” he started. “And by the way, thanks for coming so early. I’m sure Harriet told you I’m scheduled for several surgeries this morning.
“When my mom died, I inherited a bunch of stuff, including her charitable foundation. There’s a board of directors that oversees the choosing of charities, follows up to see how the money we donated is used, etc., and there are also a couple of paid employees who handle the day-to-day responsibilities. But at the end of the day, I have to say yea or nay on where the money goes.”