A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) (27 page)

Violet poured a glass of water from a pitcher sitting at the end of the table.

“Pass this to Mickey,” she told Connie. “Don’t get yourself worked up,” she said to him. “You know your heart can’t take too much excitement.”

Jo cleared her throat.

“Can we talk about the business at hand?”

“I thought we were,” Connie said.

“I mean the quilt. So far, we’re doing scrappy flowers, but have you any idea about what the unifying background color will be? And shouldn’t we have a common color for the center of each flower?”

“Jo’s right,” Violet said. “There are traditions about these things. The centers should be yellow to represent the center of the flower, and then the next row is any color to represent the petals of the flower. We’ll have to decide if the flowers will be connected by white for a picket fence or green for a garden path.”

“Diós mio,” Connie whispered.

“How about we let you ladies decide about the green or white, and I’ll come take you to the fabric store and you can pick out that color and whatever yellow you want for the centers,” Harriet offered.

“Perfect,” Jo said. “How about we go out to lunch, my treat, and pick up fabric on the way home?”

Harriet looked at Lauren, who raised her eyebrow and tilted her head slightly in assent.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Anyone want to come try Jorge’s new recipe for Oaxacan grilled shrimp?” said Aiden’s disembodied voice over the speaker of Harriet’s phone as she began the drive to deposit Mavis, Lauren and her aunt back to their respective homes.

Mavis leaned forward between the front seats and said in a loud voice, “Sounds good to me.” She looked back at Beth. “Beth’s in, too.”

Lauren picked up the phone.

“Sure, why not.” She moved it closer to Harriet.

“What time?” Harriet asked.

After a little negotiation, they all decided six o’clock would give the women enough time to all take their dogs out.

“If no one has anything else pressing, it makes more sense for us to do it this way instead of making Harriet come back for us a second time,” Mavis pointed out.

Beth pulled her own phone from her purse.

“I’ll call Connie and see if she and Rod want to join us. I’ll text Jor-ge if they say yes. They can give Mavis and I a ride home, too, if they come.”

“Look at you, all high-tech,” Lauren teased. “When did you trade in your Jitter-bug?”—referring to the simplistic phone that was often advertised in the AARP newsletter.

“I never had a Jitter-bug,” Beth said when she had finished her call. “My old phone was state-of-the-art in its time.”

“Yeah? And when was that? Cell phones aren’t made to last more than six months, max. You must have had that one ten years,” Lauren said.

Beth completed her text and dropped her smartphone back into her purse.

“They shouldn’t punish a person,” she said, “for taking proper care of her things. And it was only seven years.”

Harriet laughed and glanced at Lauren.

“You’ll never win that argument, so you might as well give up.”

Lauren just shook her head.

Harriet scooted her chair back from the table in the private room.

“I’d say that’s a keeper. I can’t eat another bite.”

“You didn’t save room for my flan?” Jorge asked in a hurt voice.

“I suppose I could squeeze some in,” she answered with a laugh.

Aunt Beth set her napkin beside her plate.

“Maybe we can talk about what happened today while we let our dinner settle,” she said.

Lauren filled the men in on the day’s activity.

“Diós mio,” Connie said and covered her face in her hands. “And we agreed before we left we weren’t going to do anything else that might provoke the bomber.”

“That would be easier if we knew who the bomber was,” Harriet said. “And for the record, I had no intention of going into Howard’s office. I wanted to, but I wasn’t going to. That plan was all on the senior citizens who live there. They’d gotten a bootleg key and everything.”

“Are you sure they’re telling you everything they know?” Aiden asked.

“No, I’m not, but why do you ask? Do you know something?”

He slipped her hand into his.

“I wish I knew something for sure. I just have this vague recollection about the woman in the wheelchair. Janice?

“It was a big scandal in Foggy Point when she had her accident and it came out she was with Howard Pratt. Then it seems like it was all hushed up. My mom had heard some rumors at work.”

He stared past her, trying to pull the memories from thin air.

“She wasn’t from here. She was some sort of journalist, and she was investigating something or someone.” He pressed his lips together. “I just don’t remember. I was in high school.” He grinned at Harriet. “Chasing girls.”

Beth rubbed her hand across her mouth absently.

“I remember the accident was all over the paper when it happened, the part about the up-and-coming journalist being injured. I didn’t remember Howard was in the car. You’d think I would have, too, since I think she was investigating the death of Jill Pratt.”

“She was investigating his wife’s death, and the paper didn’t mention he was in the car with her?” Harriet asked. “That’s rather fishy.”

“I’m not sure many people knew what she was here for. I only knew because she came to Avanell’s business to interview one of her secretaries. Jill’s death was ruled a suicide. I don’t know why Janice thought otherwise.”

Aiden looked at Beth. “My mom told you and didn’t tell me?”

Beth smiled sweetly. “She probably did and you just don’t remember. You were fifteen at the time, and as I remember, you didn’t listen to much of what your mother said back then.”

“I wonder why she thought Howard’s wife had been murdered,” Harriet said. “I mean, if she wasn’t living in Foggy Point, how would it even be on her radar. It wasn’t exactly national news, I’m guessing.”

Lauren took a sip of her water.

“I wonder why she got into a car with the guy if she thought he’d murdered his wife.”

Jorge came in from the kitchen balancing a tray of dessert dishes filled with his creamy flan.

“Is it too obvious to just ask the señorita?”

Harriet put her hands around the dish he handed her as he made his way around the table.

“We could, but first, we don’t know her very well, and second, with all the discussion about Seth’s murder and the group’s suspicion about Howard’s involvement in that, she’s never mentioned her relationship with him. It seems like if she suspected him of killing his wife, she’d have said something about that. Since she didn’t, I have to wonder why.”

Lauren took a bite of her flan.

“Mmmm, this is soooo good.” She closed her eyes as she swallowed then opened them and looked at Harriet. “I’m with you. We need to find out a little more about her relationship with Howard before we ask her anything. Mickey and Jo seem to trust her, but what if they don’t know she had a previous relationship of some sort with Howard. She could even be spying for him.”

“That wouldn’t be good,” Harriet said.

Aiden took her hand again.

“Another reason for you all to back off.”

“I’m taking Jo and Violet fabric shopping tomorrow. I’ll see what they know.”

Lauren turned toward Harriet.

“Are you sure Janice isn’t coming with you?”

“I’ll fold the back seat of my car up and throw something in the space; then there won’t be room for her and her chair. And by the way, that’s ‘us.’ Coming with
us
.”

Lauren rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything.

“That’s not polite, excluding a handicapped person,” Beth scolded.

Harriet looked at her aunt.

“Keeping secrets isn’t polite, either. I get that maybe it’s too painful for her to talk about her accident and the time surrounding it, but Sarah’s in trouble. We don’t have the luxury of being able to be considerate of everyone. If I can get the information from Jo tomorrow, Janice staying home will be a small price to pay for her not having to talk about it.”

“My son is taking me car shopping in Seattle tomorrow,” Mavis said. “I’ll be back before dinnertime. Call me and let me know what, if anything, you find out.”

“Are you getting another Lincoln Towncar?” Rod asked her.

“My boys want me to get a new car. They said they’d feel better if I drove something with all the latest safety features. So, no Towncar.”

“Don’t they make Towncars anymore?” Harriet asked.

Mavis sighed. “Sadly, no.”

Beth reached over and patted her on the back.

“You’ll live.”

Lauren set a paper cup of hot chocolate down on Harriet’s cutting table.

“Here,” she said, setting her cup of coffee next to it while she took off her black fleece jacket and tossed it onto a chair. “I figured we needed some fortification before we take on Violet and Jo. And we need a plan.”

Harriet took a sip.

“My plan is to tell Jo what we’ve heard about Janice’s past and ask her what the deal is.”

“Do you think she’ll tell you, just like that?”

“If she really is who she claims to be, she’ll have done some checking up on her co-conspirators. If she claims no knowledge, then she either isn’t an ex-spy or she has another agenda. I’m guessing she knows. Why she hasn’t told us before now will be the interesting part.”

Lauren pointed at the quilt top Harriet had spread out on her cutting table.

“Is that for the women’s shelter?”

Harriet sighed. “It is. Or it will be, when I get the design worked out. The panel in the center is called ‘The Healing Tree.’ I’ve been trying out various pieced blocks to put around it, but I’m not sure any of them is going to work.”

“Are you trying to soften the boldness of the tree image?”