Frayed Edges

by Carol Dean Jones

  “I’ll spell it out for you,” the detective said with a sigh. “There’s some dementia there, and this is top secret. The mayor doesn’t want the press getting ahold of that information. But the fact is, she can’t be left alone. The mayor thought she’d enjoy the quilt show, and he arranged for her caregiver to accompany her. Something happened, and the details aren’t even being shared with us, but they got separated. That was the mayor’s wife that your friend Myra described to the sketch artist. At closing time, Lonnie checked the bathrooms and found her. He recognized her right away and whisked her out of the Center and drove her home.”

  “Lonnie did that?” Charles queried in a sardonic tone, with both eyebrows high on his forehead. “That must have been difficult while planning a major crime only moments later.”

  “Go home, Charlie,” Hal responded, reverting to his previous habit of calling his friend by his nickname. “Just go home.”

  * * * * *

  “Come look at the quilts I found online.”

  “Did you find one?” Sarah asked excitedly as she set down the pan she had been washing.

  “Unfortunately, they aren’t ours, but it’s an incredible site with hundreds of quilts that have been reported as lost or stolen over the years. This is on the Quilters’ News Quarterly website. They keep this registry of every quilt that has ever been reported to them as missing, and they don’t remove it until it’s found. It’s fascinating to look at,” he said as Sarah sat down at his computer and began scrolling through the pictures.

  “It’s fascinating and very sad,” she responded. “I feel like I do when I look at animal rescue sites and see all those homeless animals. These quilts weren’t exactly abandoned, but they were loved by someone, somewhere. I wonder if people know about these sites.” Suddenly she stopped on a quilt with a gasp, but then said, “No, that’s not it. I thought for a moment that was one of Mabel’s, but her colors were faded, and the binding was frayed.”

  “Our pictures are in here, but they’re up at the front. They put the newest ones at the top of the list. Scroll back the other way.”

  “Oh my,” Sarah sighed sadly. “Here they are. It’s so sad to see them listed as ‘Missing or Stolen.’ There are so many listed here. How will anyone notice ours?”

  “This isn’t the only place they are. They went out in the print version to their mailing list, and they’re over here along with the article on the home page. Click here,” Charles said, pointing to the icon for the home page.

  ARTICLE:

  Tragedy in Middletown—Loss of 36 Quilts

  The article included pictures of Cunningham Village and the pictures taken during the quilt show. Then it shocked the viewer with an image of the same room, now empty. It went on to describe what had happened and the magnitude of the personal loss to the many quilters. The website then displayed each quilt individually and provided a phone number to call with any information.

  “They listed John Waterford’s number,” Sarah remarked. “Do you think he knows enough about quilts to be doing this job?”

  “Don’t forget,” Charles responded, “he works for Susan, and she certainly knows quilts. If she trusts him, I think we can too.”

  Chapter 23

  The quilters had been sitting around in their meeting room for nearly an hour talking about the articles in the quilt magazines, the pictures of their quilts online, and their unsuccessful internet searches.

  “This is depressing,” Delores said suddenly. “We need another charity project to take our minds off the lost quilts.” Everyone nodded their agreement. The group had completed 120 placemats for the Meals on Wheels program during the late summer, but, other than the show, they hadn’t discussed another project since then.

  “Does anyone have an idea?”

  “I love making baby quilts,” Myrtle said in her quiet voice. “As a matter of fact, I brought some that I’ve been working on for my great-grandsons. Twins, they are!”

  Everyone clapped and asked to see the quilts.

  “This is for Darnell,” she said proudly, holding up the first of the quilts. “And this is for Tyrone. They only weighed a little over four pounds, but they’re doing great. Their mama’s going to have her hands full, though. She already had three young’uns, all boys,” she added with a proud chuckle. “But we’re all helping. We’ve got a big family.”

  The group passed the quilts around, handling them gently and with admiration. Myrtle did exquisite work. The group went on to discuss making baby quilts but decided to put that off for now since they had recently made children’s quilts for the women’s shelter.

  “We could always do pillowcases for the shelter, but I made so many last Christmas that I’m really tired of making them,” Delores complained.

  “Any other ideas?” Ruth asked, but there was no response.

  “Well, I have something to show the group,” Ruth said, reaching into her tote bag. She held up what at first looked like a divided tote bag, but then Ruth held up the back, and they could see that it looked more like a miniature saddlebag that obviously went over something.

  “What is it?” Frank asked. Frank was the club’s only male member. He worked as a greeter at a local big-box store and loved sewing. Frank had initially gone into Running Stitches because of a table runner he saw in the window. He wanted to buy it for his grandmother; but Sarah, who happened to be in the shop, explained that it was a sample for a class she would be offering. She suggested he take the class and learn to make it. With help, Frank learned the basics and had recently completed a quilt for his bed. “Does it go over a horse?” he asked.

  “Actually, it could if it were bigger, I suppose,” Ruth said with a laugh, “but this is called a walker bag, and it attaches to the front of a walker. It gives the person a place to keep their things like their cell phone, a book, Kleenex, knitting, quilt projects—whatever they want to carry with them. Here,” she added, reaching into her tote bag again. “I printed out this picture of a walker bag attached to a walker.” She handed the picture to Frank to pass around.

  “I get it,” he exclaimed. “My grandma uses a walker sometimes. Are we going to make these? I want to make one for Grandma.” He began to rock back and forth excitedly.

  “We’re going to talk about it right now,” Ruth responded, laying her hand gently on Frank’s shoulder, “but we can certainly make one for your grandmother,” she added with a reassuring smile.

  “Thank you,” he said more calmly now. “Grandma will like that.”

  “This looks easy,” Becky exclaimed after a careful examination. Becky had just joined the group after taking Sarah’s Introduction to Quilting class. She was a skilled seamstress and had been sewing since she was in high school but had never learned to quilt. She became interested during her first visit to Ruth’s shop, when she saw the beautiful quilts hanging on the walls.

  “What would we do with them?” Allison asked. With Caitlyn gone, Allison was now the youngest member of the group.

  “Nursing homes, perhaps,” Delores said.

  “Or maybe we could stop by the Senior Center and see if they would like some for their members.”

  “I like that idea,” Becky said. “I volunteer there, and I see plenty of people using walkers, but I’ve never seen one with an attached bag. This would be really useful.”

  “If we had enough, we could even offer some to Meals on Wheels. That would be a way to reach people in the community,” Allison suggested. Allison had been excited about the program and was now volunteering with them. “One lady I take meals to could sure use one. She’s always asking me to find her remote control and cell phone when they slip down under her chair. She could keep them right by her in her walker bag. In fact, I think I’ll make her one on my own.”

  “Well, folks,” Ruth began. “With all the suggestions for who could use them, I think this means you like the idea?”

  Everyone responded enthusiastically.

  “Okay, there are several patterns o
nline, but I think this one would be a good one for us to make. It can be made in an evening easily, and it has four nice pockets.” She gave them the name of the site so everyone could order their own patterns. “Does everyone have access to the internet?”

  “I don’t, but one of my grandsons can do it for me,” Myrtle responded.

  “I don’t have a computer or a grandson,” Peggy announced. “Can I give my money to someone to do it for me?”

  “Me, too,” Frank said.

  “We’ll order them for anyone who doesn’t have access to a computer,” Kimberly and her sister Christina said almost in unison. “Just see one of us after the meeting.”

  “I made copies of the supply list so you can begin pulling together what you’ll need. Let’s plan to start working on this at our next meeting.”

  “I have a suggestion,” Mabel said. “We only have a couple of meetings before Christmas, and we’re probably all busy with gifts.” There were numerous mumbled comments which boiled down to the fact that they all had too many projects and too little time.

  “How about we order our patterns and get our fabric together, but we save this project until after the holidays,” Ruth suggested.

  There were lots of nods of agreement.

  “But we definitely have to do this in January,” Delores said. “I love the idea of the walker bags.”

  “It was good to see the group excited about something again,” Sophie said as she and Sarah were driving home.

  “And I think you and I should get back to our wall hangings. It’s just a little over a month until Christmas,” Sarah said, “and I want to make one for Jason and Jennifer, and I want to send one to Caitlyn for her room, and maybe another for her to give to her aunt. What do you think?”

  “That works. I was going to make one for Andy and, of course, for Timmy and Martha. Oh, wait! Martha is your daughter. Did you want to make one for them?”

  “Sophie, this whole thing was your idea. You’re already making one for them. And remember, we were going to keep making holiday-themed ones for them, so maybe I can make the next one.”

  “That’s fine. I love being sisters-in-law with you,” Sophie responded.

  “Is that what we are now? I was never able to figure that one out. But whatever we are, I love it too.” She reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand as she was getting out of the car.

  * * * * *

  “Hi, Aunt Sarah. How was your Thanksgiving?”

  “The only thing missing was you,” Sarah responded. “Did you and your aunt have a nice day?”

  Caitlyn told Sarah about Maddie’s friends who had come for the day. “They were mostly old, but this one woman brought her grandson. He’s a little older than I am, but,” Caitlyn added with a giggle, “he was so cute!”

  “Really?” Sarah responded teasingly. “Just how cute?”

  “Maybe the cutest guy I ever met,” the young girl replied, still giggling.

  “Did he ask you out?”

  “Yes. He wants me to go to a movie this weekend.”

  “How much older is he?”

  “Only three, maybe four years,” she responded tentatively, “but you know …”

  “Yeah, a few years can make a big difference when you’re young. Do you think you should go out with him?”

  “I told him I’d let him know today, but I can’t decide whether to go or not.”

  “May I make a suggestion?”

  “Of course!” Caitlyn responded eagerly. “That’s why I called you. What should I do?”

  “Well, I can’t tell you that, but I can make a suggestion. How about inviting your friend Beth and her boyfriend to go along? We used to call it a ‘double date’ in the olden days,” Sarah said with a smile in her voice. “I don’t know if you still do.”

  “They are sort of young for Steven,” Caitlyn responded.

  “They are both your age, aren’t they?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “So?”

  “I don’t know. He might think I’m afraid to go out alone with him.”

  “Are you?”

  “Not exactly, but …”

  “Caitlyn, I’m beginning to think you already know what you should do. This older boy makes you feel uncomfortable.”

  “He does, but I think I shouldn’t feel that way.”

  “Caitlyn, listen to your Aunt Sarah. You must always follow your instincts. You are a bright girl who got yourself through things no young girl should have to endure. You know what you should do.”

  “I should tell him no.”

  “I suspect that’s exactly what you should do.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Sarah. And you’re right. I was afraid he’d think I was some sort of naive kid, but it doesn’t matter what he thinks, does it?”

  “Not one iota.”

  “I’ve always wanted to ask someone: What’s an iota?”

  “That’s an easier question to answer. I have absolutely no idea!” They both laughed.

  As they were hanging up, Caitlyn suddenly said, “Wait, Aunt Sarah. I have it.” Sarah could hear a few clicks and knew Caitlyn was on her computer. “It’s the ninth letter of the Greek alphabet, and it means a very small amount.”

  “Well, that makes sense,” Sarah responded.

  They hung up laughing, with both feeling much relieved about the handsome grandson.

  Chapter 24

  “Sarah, if I ever get my aunt Maddie’s quilt back, would you repair it for me?”

  “Oh, Andy, I don’t know anything about that. We should talk to Ruth. I’m sure she knows people who restore quilts. What is it you want to do?”

  “I don’t want to change it, but I’m concerned about those places where the fabric has disintegrated. The stuffing is coming out.”

  “Stuffing? Oh, you mean the batting. I noticed that too. If that’s all you want to do, I think we could find some antique fabric, and I could appliqué over the disintegrated pieces.”

  “I don’t know what that means,” Andy replied with a frown.

  “Here, let me show you. Sophie left her appliqué project here.” Sarah was gone for a few minutes and returned with Sophie’s project tote. She removed one of the wall hangings Sophie had been working on, and, fortunately, there was one petal that had only been appliquéd on one side. Sarah was able to lift the edge and show Andy how Sophie was stitching it down to the background.

  “We’d do it just like this. We can go to a couple of antique shops and find some old fabric. I could cut the original shape and simply appliqué it down. Actually, it might be better to get Sophie involved in this since she’s the appliqué expert.”

  When Charles entered the room, Andy and Sarah had fabric spread out on the living room floor, and Andy was pinning a small piece of fabric to a larger piece. “What in the world are you two doing? Sarah, what have you done to my friend?”

  “It’s okay, Charles,” Andy responded, grunting as he pulled himself up off the floor. “She’s showing me what she’ll be doing to my quilt, and I’m just trying to understand. You see, she’s offered to …”

  “Give it up, Andy,” Sarah interjected. “You’ll just make his eyes twirl around. It happens whenever my husband is faced with fabric talk.”

  “Actually,” Andy responded, suddenly looking despondent, “I guess I’ve been pretending that I was going to get my quilt back, but I should just accept the fact that it’s gone.”

  “Did Hal have any news?” Sarah asked, knowing her husband had just met with the detective.

  “Not good news. He’s having Lonnie arrested this afternoon. I went by and asked Lonnie if he wanted me to wait with him, but he said he was going to turn himself in before they came for him.”

  “You mean it was Lonnie Dunkin, the facilities manager, all along?” Andy responded, looking shocked. “That’s unbelievable.”

  “It’s more than unbelievable, Andy. The guy had nothing to do with it. The department is way off base on this one.”

  “Y
ou know that for sure?” Andy asked.

  “As sure as any of us can be about anything. I just know he couldn’t have done it. He doesn’t have it in him.” As Charles spoke, he saw the look on Sarah’s face and knew what she was thinking. You’ve been wrong before about those two brothers.

  “For Lonnie’s sake, we’ve got to figure out what happened to those quilts,” Andy announced firmly. “Charles, are you in?”

  “Sure! I’ve been in from the beginning.”

  “Sarah?”

  “Yes, Andy, I’m in, and I can speak for Sophie. Let’s go over to her house. She’ll want to be near her card file.” The three chuckled.

  Once the three arrived at Sophie’s, she immediately began making notes, as they knew she would.

  “Okay, let’s start with the woman in the ladies’ room when the show was closing,” Sophie said as she wrote on the first card.

  “It wasn’t her,” Charles said. “Hal already eliminated her.”

  “And he did not eliminate Lonnie, so I’m not going to consider his opinions. He could be wrong.”

  Charles was torn about his promise to keep the mayor’s wife out of the investigation but decided he could trust his friends.

  He told what he knew, and Sophie simply said, “As I said, he could be wrong. I still don’t think that was a woman.”

  “But the police artist …” Sarah started.

  “He drew a face on the person, and our source said she wore a veil. The police artist could be wrong. So Suspect #1 is Unidentified Bathroom Person?”

  “Now, who else do we have?”

  “The gang in Hamilton who may or may not be connected to our stolen quilts.”

  “Suspect #2—The Hamilton Gang,” Sophie wrote.

  “Who else do we have?” Sarah asked.

  “Well, we have Lonnie, I guess. Just because I believe in him shouldn’t automatically eliminate him. I guess we have to consider him,” Charles admitted.

  “Lonnie is #3,” Sophie said as she wrote.

  “And the disappearing frame hanger from Hamilton,” Sarah shouted. “We can’t forget him even though the police have.”

  “I think he’s the most likely suspect,” Andy said, and Charles agreed.