Frayed Edges

by Carol Dean Jones

  “I guess we’ll find out,” Sarah responded doubtfully.

  Chapter 20

  Ruth introduced Detective Halifax, although he had met most of the club members at the Parkers’ house the day after the theft. He told the group that he was there to let them know what progress had been made in the investigation.

  Detective Halifax cleared his throat and began. “Good evening, ladies.” He then paused. He had intended to ask Charles what to call the members of this group. He had trouble keeping up with what was politically correct at any given moment. He had the feeling that “ladies” was the wrong term, and once he looked around and saw a young man in the audience, he knew he had made the wrong choice for yet another reason.

  “I wanted to let you folks know what we’ve learned.” Feeling a bit more comfortable once he saw friendly smiles of encouragement, he went on to explain about the quilts that had been located in Hamilton. He assured the owners of those seven quilts that the quilts would be returned to them at the end of the investigation.

  “Where are they now?” one of the women asked.

  “They are being held by the Hamilton Police Department, and I’ve been assured that they have been packaged and stored safely following proper procedures.”

  “They know how to store valuable quilts?” someone else called out.

  “They contacted Mrs. Weaver here,” he said, looking toward Ruth, “who is the owner of several of the quilts being held, and she informed them about storage.”

  “Thank you,” the person responded.

  “They haven’t been able to apprehend the man involved, but I’ve been assured that it’s high priority. They are treating our crime here in the Village as part of an ongoing investigation in Hamilton involving several similar thefts.”

  “As for here in Middletown, we have a couple of suspects. I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but rest assured we are taking this very seriously.”

  “I’ve seen the police chief on television,” Sophie said as she stood, “and he’s telling people to call in if they know anything about the crime. Do you get calls, and have any of them provided useful information?”

  “Again, I’m not at liberty to discuss details of those calls, but I can tell you that two of those calls led us to our current suspects. We may, in fact, be making an arrest shortly.”

  “Do you think we’ll get the rest of the quilts back?” Sophie added before sitting down.

  “I can’t answer that definitively, but if the theft here is related to the ones in Hamilton, they believe the merchandise is being shipped to other states for sale. If that’s true, it would be tough to recover them. And that brings me to something I wanted to discuss with you.”

  Detective Halifax reached for the glass of water that had been thoughtfully provided on his makeshift podium. “I would like to request that everyone who knows how to access the internet begin searching for your quilts. If you find one, however, please do nothing. Call me immediately, and I’ll check it out. Contacting them yourself could cause us to lose the suspect and the quilt or quilts he might have.”

  “How do we do these searches?” someone asked.

  “Do searches on images of antique or vintage quilts for sale and keep going through them until you, hopefully, find a familiar one. When you do, simply write down the URL and call me.”

  “What’s a URL?” the young man in the back asked.

  “It’s the computer address of the website posting the ad.” The young man looked confused, but Ruth immediately came to his aid.

  “I’ll show you, Frank. In fact, you and I can do that here in the shop. I have pictures of all the quilts, and we’ll especially look for your grandmother’s.” She gave the detective a sorrowful look. “He lost all of his grandmother’s quilts, some from the early 1800s.”

  The detective looked pained and shook his head. Looking up at the young man, he said, “Sorry, sir.”

  “I don’t have much else to report,” the detective said. “I want you to know we take your losses very seriously, and we’ll continue to work this case until we’ve covered every possibility. I can only say that I sincerely hope we can recover your quilts.”

  Moving to the front of the room, Ruth said, “We want to thank you, Detective Halifax, for taking the time to come talk to us. We know you’re a busy man, but it’s meant a great deal to us to hear how serious you are about helping us.”

  Everyone clapped as he moved toward the door to leave, but then he stopped and reached into his pocket. “Here is a pile of my cards. Call me directly if you find anything online.”

  “We will,” several people called out enthusiastically.

  “I can’t wait to get to my computer,” Sophie said. “This will be fun, and just think how many quilts we’re going to see.”

  “I just want to see ours,” Christina said.

  * * * * *

  “Yes,” Charles responded when Sarah told him about Hal’s request for the quilters to do computer searches. “He asked me if I thought the group would do that, and I thought they’d be eager to get involved.”

  “You were right. Not everyone has a computer, but the younger ones were particularly eager. Sophie could hardly wait to get home to try it out.”

  At that moment the phone rang.

  “Can Charles come help me? I keep getting an error message when I try to search for the quilts.”

  “It’s getting pretty late, my friend,” Sarah responded with a chuckle. “Go to bed, and tomorrow we’ll do this together. I’ll come over after breakfast, okay?”

  “Okay. But do you know how to do it?”

  “I might be able to, but I’ll try it out here before I come so Charles can help if I’m doing it wrong.” She smiled at her husband, who knew she could do computer searches with her eyes closed, but he appreciated how her comment supported her friend Sophie’s efforts. “See you in the morning,” Sarah said as she hung up.

  “How did Hal do?” Charles asked.

  “Well, at first he seemed nervous, but once he got going, he did fine. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t know, but he was reassuring. I think getting the members involved in searching the internet will help them. I know they feel helpless right now, and participating in the investigation might help them feel more in control. But the truth is, we may never see any of those quilts again.”

  “Wait a minute,” Charles responded. “We have seven of them back, twenty-nine to go. We just might start chipping away at that number. I’m planning to spend all day tomorrow on the internet myself. Leave me a copy of the quilt pictures when you go to Sophie’s tomorrow.”

  “By the way, Charles, Hal said tonight they have a couple of suspects. What’s that all about?”

  “Oh, I forgot to tell you, mainly because it’s not at all promising. But one of the guys Ruth’s friend sent over to set up the frames has disappeared. A couple of Hal’s men accompanied Hamilton PD, and they found the guy’s apartment empty. The landlord said he moved out several weeks ago, not long after the robbery.”

  “Do they know where he went?”

  “No one knows, but Hamilton PD is following up with neighbors and the people he worked with through the quilt guild. Someone must know where he went.”

  “Will Hamilton take this seriously?”

  “Absolutely, because they see what happened here as part of a larger scheme and one they’ve been trying to solve for themselves.”

  “Oh yes,” Sarah acknowledged. “Hal said something about that tonight, and the investigators at Tessa’s shop seemed to think the crimes are all connected.”

  “Hal said they’ve identified two suspects. Who’s the other one?”

  “Well,” Charles replied with a frown, “that’s the one I don’t like. They’re looking at Lonnie.”

  “Lonnie Dunkin, the maintenance supervisor? Why would they be looking at him?”

  “He had opportunity, and he’s got a shady background, Sarah. His brother is in prison for murder. Lonnie and I
’ve been friends since his brother’s trial, and I know he’s a good guy, but his record doesn’t look good. He’s been in some trouble over the years.”

  “You got him that job, didn’t you?”

  “I sure did, and I’d do it again. He’s a good man.”

  “I hate to say this, Charles, but you thought his brother was a good man too, and he let you sit in jail for weeks for a crime he committed.”

  “I know, Sarah. I know.”

  “Let’s put this aside for now and go to bed,” she said. “Tomorrow is another day.”

  Charles chuckled and said, “Okay, Scarlett. You’re right.” He switched off the kitchen light, and the two walked arm in arm toward their room.

  Chapter 21

  “Sophie, I got great news today from Quilters’ News Quarterly.”

  “Who are they?”

  “They are one of the publications I contacted about printing my article about our quilts. Ruth told me about them. They’re nationwide, and this is something they do regularly. They called this morning, and they want to write their own version of our story and feature it in their next publication along with all the pictures. The woman I spoke to said they’ve been very successful in recovering lost and stolen quilts over the years.”

  “That’s terrific,” Sophie responded. “How will this work? Do you have to go somewhere?”

  “Their main office is in Paducah, and they’re sending a reporter up to interview us, and …”

  “Wait, did you say ‘us’?” Sophie gasped.

  “I’d like for you to be with me, and I think we should have Ruth, too.”

  “And maybe Andy,” Sophie suggested. “His story is unique since his daughter just recently found their only relative, and that quilt has a special history.”

  “We can ask him. The story is pretty personal, but he’d be a good addition to the meeting with the reporter. Charles, too, I think.”

  “I wonder if Detective Halifax might be willing to be interviewed,” Sophie said.

  “Charles can ask him. He wouldn’t have to be at our meeting. They could just go see him to find out what the police are doing.”

  “So when is this reporter coming?” Sophie asked.

  “Friday,” Sarah responded. “I’ve got a lot of organizing to do before then. So,” she added, “you’ll come?”

  “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  “Leave the bells home, my friend. We need to treat this interview with dignity.”

  * * * * *

  At 2:00 on Friday afternoon, when Sarah opened the door to the reporter, she was stunned by the crowd on the porch. A rather distinguished-looking man stepped forward and introduced himself as Todd Manchin, the editor of the publication. Sarah hadn’t expected them to send their editor. He then introduced Susan Lake, his lead reporter, and her assistant, John Waterford. Standing in the back was a rather scruffy-looking guy loaded down with camera equipment. He was introduced as Lance-the-Cameraman.

  Once the visitors joined Sarah and her friends, the living room was filled. Charles brought in a few more chairs from the dining room, and Sophie added glasses to the coffee table, which had been set up with a pitcher of tea and several plates of cookies.

  Sarah began by telling the story of the quilt show and how it had come about. She then passed out pictures that had been taken during the show. “I have an individual picture of each quilt as well, which you can take with you,” she explained.

  “We’d like to use some of these pictures from the show as well,” Todd said. “They set the scene.”

  Then Sarah asked Charles if he would talk to them about what had happened the night of the robbery and what the police had been able to do so far. The detective, unfortunately, wasn’t available to be interviewed. “It’s more likely that his boss didn’t want the publicity,” Charles had observed earlier that day.

  Charles told the group what he could about the police investigation, and Sarah interjected things the detective had told them at the recent meeting.

  Turning to his wife, Charles asked, “Did you tell them about the other articles you sent out?”

  “Only briefly,” she replied. Then to the group, she added, “I’m not a writer, but I submitted articles to all the quilt magazines I could find and also to quilt shops that have catalogs. I told our story pretty much like I told it to you, and I included all the pictures. Only one responded so far, and they ran the article but only a few of the pictures.”

  “That’s excellent, Sarah,” Susan responded. “If anyone else offers to print your story, give them our website and tell them that all the pictures will be displayed there.” Susan handed Sarah her card with the website address. “In fact, you might want to send an abbreviated version of the story to all of them again along with three or four pictures and give them our website for more information. They might go for something shorter.”

  Charles then told the group about his search efforts, and both Todd and Susan were able to give him several websites to search and a few pointers for making the most of his searches.

  Sophie, to Sarah’s surprise, was rather quiet, offering only a few comments now and then. Susan, the reporter, was very knowledgeable about quilts in general and the recovery of quilts in particular. “There’s a good chance you’ll get some of your quilts back, Sarah,” she said. “Our publication is nationwide and reaches many people in the business of vintage and antique quilts. We also place all the quilt photos on our website, which reaches thousands of people all over the world.”

  “It’s unlikely that our quilts have left the country,” Sarah responded.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Quilts made during our Civil War period are trendy overseas.”

  After a couple of hours of discussion, taped interviews, and photographs by Lance-the-Cameraman, the visitors stood and thanked their hosts. “I’ll probably be calling you,” Susan said, “once I begin writing.”

  Todd and Susan passed out their cards and asked that they be contacted if anyone thought of anything else.

  “Good luck with your computer searches, Charles. Keep us in the loop if you find anything promising or if we can help in any way,” Todd called out over his shoulder as the group progressed across the porch and down the steps.

  Once everyone was gone except Sophie, Charles brought a cold bottle of chardonnay into the living room, and the three friends put their feet up to relax. “Well, what do you think?” Sarah asked.

  “I think I’m getting on the computer again tomorrow morning, but I think our best leads will come from the article these folks put out there,” Charles replied.

  “I was astonished to hear how often they receive information from people who have seen the quilts they feature in their publication. They have a fair recovery rate. I’m beginning to feel hopeful for the first time,” Sarah remarked.

  “I wanted to ask something all afternoon, Sophie. You were very quiet today. Are you okay?” Charles asked, looking concerned.

  “I’m fine. Your wife told me to leave my bells at home, so I did.”

  Charles looked confused, but Sarah burst out laughing and said, “Sophie, you are always welcome with bells on. Your bells bring smiles to everyone.”

  Charles, still looking confused, muttered, “What bells?”

  Chapter 22

  The article had been completed and was expected to be online later in the day. Print copies were in the mail but hadn’t arrived in Middletown yet.

  Hal had brought Lonnie Dunkin, the Community Center facilities manager, into the department twice in one week for further interrogation. He hadn’t made an arrest, but Charles was afraid he was close to doing just that. He learned that Lonnie had, without authorization, arranged to have the locks changed the morning after the quilts were taken and had thrown out the old locks, which were now unavailable to the crime lab.

  “The crime tape was up, Charles,” Hal said heatedly. “Despite that, the man destroyed evidence and interfered in the investigation. Why do you su
ppose he didn’t want us seeing those locks?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

  “You’re making assumptions, Hal. Lonnie said he was afraid the thieves had keys, and he wanted the building secured. That’s one of his responsibilities.”

  “Well, we’ll never know now, will we?”

  The two men remained silent, but both were seething.

  “He hasn’t been charged yet, has he?” Charles finally asked.

  “Not yet, but we’re close.”

  “What about the other suspects? Why are you closing in on Lonnie Dunkin? What about that Hamilton guy who hung the quilts and then vanished from the face of the earth? What about him?”

  “There’s not one scrap of evidence that he was involved.”

  “His fingerprints were all over the frames,” Charles responded impatiently.

  “He hung the quilts, Charles. He hung the quilts, and then he moved. Those are not crimes.”

  “He suddenly moved right after the quilts were stolen, and he had opportunity,” Charles announced.

  “How’s that?” Hal asked. “You and your wife let him out of the building and locked the door behind him, right?”

  “He could have come back. …” Charles began, but then remembered the problem with the locks being changed. “Okay, so let me ask about the woman we brought in who saw someone lurking around in the bathroom when the show was closing. She was certainly suspicious, and the woman we brought in was able to give you a detailed description of the woman, assuming it was really a woman,” he added.

  “She had the sketch artist draw a picture alright, but it wasn’t of any criminal.”

  “Who was it?”

  “It was the mayor’s wife.”

  “What?” Charles was clearly shocked.

  “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, not even Sarah.”

  Charles looked offended, and Hal revised his statement. “Okay, you can tell Sarah, but no one else. First of all, the mayor’s wife has a full-time caregiver due to her condition, and he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

  “Her condition?”