Left Holding the Bag

by Carol Dean Jones

  “Charlie, Let it go. I’ve got work to do,” he said as he stood, apparently dismissing his friend.

  Charles stood and crossed the room to leave but hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. “Did this girl have a boyfriend?” he asked. “Have you checked into that?”

  Lt. Stokely sighed and said, “Go home to your wife, Charlie.”

  Charles saw a flicker of sadness cross his friend’s face.

  Chapter 10

  “Look at this, Sarah,” Bernice commented as she gathered up the few packages of feedsack fabric that were left after the quilt club meeting. “The club bought at least half of the ones we cut.” Bernice seemed surprisingly calm, even happy, and Sarah wondered what could have caused such a change in just a few hours.

  “Save some for me,” Ruth called from the stock room. “My basket is almost empty.” Ruth had bought a dozen or so packets to see how they would sell.

  “We’ll have to start cutting more right away,” Sarah responded cheerfully. “The show is only two weeks away.” Bernice just smiled as she tucked the checks into her purse and Sarah knew her friend was pleased. Bernice seemed to be coming to grips with what had happened over the past few days. “Darius is who he is,” she had said on the drive over, “and I can’t change that. I hope he didn’t have anything to do with that girl’s death, but if he did,” she had added, “he will deserve whatever punishment is in store.”

  “Hey Girls,” Sophie called across the room, pulling Sarah out of her reverie. “Delores wants to be on the stage with us when we do the presentation.”

  “That sounds great,” Sarah replied, “especially since we’ll be presenting her trunk load of items made from feedsacks.” To Delores who was on her way over to the table where they were packing up, Sarah added, “I’m sure there’ll be lots of questions about the items, and you’ll be right there to answer them.”

  “I’m afraid I’ll have to make up most of the answers,” Delores chuckled. “My sister and I are the only ones left in the family who know anything about the old days.”

  “Why don’t you bring your sister to the presentation?” Bernice suggested. “She can sit in the front row and be available if she knows an answer you don’t.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I’ve been thinking about having Norman come too,” Sophie announced.

  “Hmm,” Sarah responded. “He just might enjoy it. He’s interested in the more creative side of life.”

  “That’s true, but I thought he could be a plant.”

  “A plant?”

  “If there’s a lull, he can have a list of questions to ask to get things going.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Sarah responded. “In fact, he might actually have some good questions since he’ll probably be the only non-quilter in the room.”

  “So,” Bernice began as she tucked the last of the fabric into her tote bag, “Are you ladies available to do some cutting tomorrow? I’ll pay you with a good lunch and several pots of coffee.”

  “I’m in,” Sophie responded enthusiastically.

  “Me, too,” Sarah said, “but I have an early morning appointment at the gym.”

  “The gym?” Bernice asked. “What’s happening at the gym?” Sophie had given her a tour of the community center – the pool, the computer lab and classrooms, the resource center, and of course the café, but hadn’t taken the elevator to the bottom floor to see the gym.

  “They’ve hired a trainer to work with people individually. I’m having an assessment in the morning and then she’ll be setting up my program. She said it wouldn’t take more than an hour.”

  “That sounds interesting. I’d like to…” Bernice began, but then she stopped talking, and Sarah knew she was still concerned about money. Although the credit card companies had put her accounts on hold during the investigation and weren’t asking for payment, she was still worried about it. Sarah hesitated for a moment, looking for a way to address the financial issue tactfully.

  “We’re really lucky to have all these amenities in the village,” she finally responded. “I understand there will be a small fee for the evaluation and plan, but the gym is available to everyone at no charge. Charles goes almost every day.”

  Bernice looked relieved. “I’d like to go with you in the morning and just walk on the treadmill while you meet with the trainer if you don’t mind,” Bernice said. “That would invigorate me for my day at the cutting board.”

  “Great,” Sarah responded enthusiastically. “I’ll meet you there at nine.”

  As Sarah pulled into the garage, she could hear the phone ringing. “Sophie’s on the phone,” Charles called to her from the kitchen door. She pushed the button to close the garage door and hurried into the kitchen.

  “Hi, Sophie. How did you get home before me?”

  “Bernice thinks that new car is a race car,” she joshed. “Anyway, I didn’t have a chance to talk with you privately at the meeting, but I was dying to ask you something. What’s up with Bernice?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she was a wreck just a few hours ago, and tonight she was acting like nothing had happened.”

  “She seemed almost relieved, didn’t she? I noticed that too.”

  “Do you suppose she’s heard from Darius?”

  “Hmm. I hadn’t thought of that, but it’s a possibility, I guess.” She was glad she didn’t have the phone on speaker. This wasn’t something she wanted Charles to hear.

  Besides, it’s just speculation, she told herself.

  * * *

  As Charles and Sarah were walking to the community center the next morning, he asked about Bernice.

  “She’s hanging in there,” Sarah responded, already feeling guilty about withholding Sophie’s theory from him. She knew Charles was referring to the murder, but she moved to the topic of the credit cards. “The credit card companies are doing the fraud investigations, and they’ve assured her they’ll get to the bottom of it, so that’s not worrying her too much. She’s focused on her quilt show presentation. I’m just glad she has this to think about.”

  “She’s a pretty strong lady,” Charles said as he opened the door to the community center and stepped aside to let a man in a wheelchair go ahead of them.

  “Have you picked out wallpaper yet?” Charles asked, pushing the elevator button that carried them to the lower level.

  “I think so. I want you to take a look at it…”

  “Sarah, I trust your judgment. What do I know about wallpaper?” he asked rhetorically.

  “I’m worried about you hanging it alone,” she began, but he cut her off immediately.

  “First of all, I need the exercise, doctor’s orders. And second, Jason has offered to help me when we’re ready to do it.”

  “Jason?” Sarah exclaimed with surprise. “How nice. How did that happen?” Jason, Sarah’s son, was always either working or involved with his family. His wife Jennifer had gone back to work, and they had agreed to share all the household responsibilities which were numerous with a toddler and an infant.

  “We were talking about it at dinner last week, and he just offered. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was determined.”

  “I missed that. Where was I?”

  “You and Martha had your heads together.” Martha, Sarah’s daughter, was settling into her new role as wife and mother, but still had many questions for her mother.

  “Was Jennifer in on the conversation?” Sarah asked. “I’m surprised she can spare Jason.”

  “She was right there, and she encouraged him to do it,” Charles responded. “When he went up to pay the bill, she whispered to me that she needs some alone time. She said you would understand,” he added.

  Sarah smiled, knowing that her son was somewhat of a control freak and she was sure Jennifer could use a break from being told how to run the household. Her daughter-in-law had never complained to her about Jason, but Sarah knew him well enough to know he could be annoying in that department.
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  “When do you men plan to do this?”

  “We need to work that out. I’ll give you plenty of notice,” he said, knowing his wife would want to secure all the furniture ahead of time.

  Sarah, on the other hand, was making a mental note to arrange to be out of the house during the wallpaper project. She could imagine that it could become dicey as the two men, both with strong, in-charge-type personalities, worked out the details.

  As she worked with the young trainer, Sarah glanced across the room where Bernice was walking on the treadmill and talking on her cellphone. Sarah saw her smile vanish and be replaced by a worried look. Something has happened, she told herself as she attempted to follow Tessa’s instructions.

  When Sarah arrived at Bernice’s house later that morning, Sophie was already there. They had set up the kitchen for cutting the fabric and had brought piles of feedsacks into the room. Bernice didn’t mention the call and Sarah didn’t want to intrude, so she picked up a ruler, pulled her rotary cutter out of her pocket, spread the first feedsack out, and began to cut.

  “I’m beginning to think I’ll need another outlet once the show is over,” Bernice was saying. “We’ve prepared several hundred packets, and we’ve barely made a dent in the second trunk.

  “You might want to consider Anna’s suggestion of selling through a website,” Sophie remarked. “Or maybe on one of those consignment-type sites like eBay.”

  “Or,” Sarah said thoughtfully, laying her cutting tools down, “perhaps you could sell them to quilt shops or place them in quilt shops on consignment.”

  “Interesting idea,” Bernice said, also stopping and thinking about it. “I’ll talk to Ruth about it. She might even be willing to put them on her website for a fee.”

  The three women were quiet for a while as they contemplated the possibilities.

  “I may want to buy a few more packets myself, Bernice,” Sarah announced as they were breaking for lunch.

  “Really, I thought you had your quilt all figured out.”

  “I’ve decided to make a couple of throw pillows for the chairs in that room. Charles says they’re uncomfortable.”

  “You think pillows will help?” Sophie asked, looking doubtful.

  Sarah hesitated, then smiled mischievously. “No, but he doesn’t know that, and they’ll look cute.”

  Once they sat down to the lunch Bernice had prepared before the women arrived, Sarah could hold back no longer. “Bernice, I saw you on the phone earlier, and you looked worried. Is everything okay?”

  Bernice sighed and laid her sandwich down. “I had my calls forwarded to my cell just in case. That was the credit card company that called.”

  “Oh?” Sarah responded, hoping the woman would continue.

  “The two companies are working together on this now,” she said, “and they wanted to know if I knew anyone in Central America.”

  “Why?”

  “The man on the line told me that the charges on both cards were primarily made in Guatemala and Columbia.

  “What? How did your cards get down there?” Sophie asked with surprise.

  “They’re working with the FBI now, but when I asked that question, the man said they were probably sold to a dealer down there.”

  “A dealer? A drug dealer?” Sophie asked.

  “A dealer in stolen credit cards.”

  “Who would…?” Sophie started to say but glanced at Sarah who was almost imperceptibly shaking her head.

  “Who would?” Bernice spoke up with anger in her voice. “I think we all know who would.” Shaking her head and looking disheartened, she added, “About the time I start believing in that boy, he proves me wrong.”

  * * *

  “They’ve stolen her identity,” Sarah announced with anger in her voice. “Can you imagine that man doing such a thing to her? She was like a mother to him…”

  “Well, hon, this isn’t exactly identity theft,” Charles responded. “This is credit card fraud.”

  “What’s the difference?” she demanded. “It still hurts her.”

  “Well, chances are the credit card company will get it worked out, so she doesn’t get hurt too bad, if at all. Identify theft in its most serious form is when a person walks off with another person’s identity. They become you. It’s a much more serious crime and devastating for the victim. A victim of identity theft can lose everything and not even be able to prove who they are. The perpetrator walks off with their name, social security history, work history, pensions, even the title to their home sometimes…whatever they want. It can cost thousands and thousands of dollars in legal fees to get one’s identity back, and it might not ever be resolved.”

  “Oh, Charles…” Sarah cried.

  “Now, don’t worry. This is credit card fraud. Your friend will come through this, perhaps a little less trusting, but she’ll come through it.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  Sarah walked through the house and into her sewing room where she sat and began stitching the remainder of her four-inch squares into four patches. The gentle hum of her sewing machine always calmed her.

  Chapter 11

  Sophie and Norman had gone out for the day. There was a movie in town he wanted to see, and Sophie agreed to sit through a rough and tumble movie in exchange for a spicy meal at the new southwestern-style restaurant that had just opened in town. Sarah and Bernice were spending the day cutting and packaging feedsack fabrics, a task that was quickly becoming their full-time job.

  Abruptly Bernice laid her rotary cutter aside, and Sarah could tell she had something on her mind. “What is it, Bernice?” she asked. “Has something happened?”

  “No, it’s not that,” Bernice said reluctantly. “It’s just that I have a rather embarrassing question for you.”

  Sarah set aside the bags she’d been filling with assorted six-inch squares and gave Bernice her full attention. “What is it?” she asked.

  Bernice was quiet for a moment but then blurted out her question. “I met this man in the computer lab last week. He invited me to stop off in the coffee shop, and we talked for a while. He actually seems nice, and he wants to take me to dinner. I haven’t been out with a man since my husband died, and I don’t know what to do.”

  Sarah couldn’t help chuckling with relief. “I think that’s wonderful, Bernice.”

  “Do you? I don’t know anything about him, but he said he’s a good friend of yours and Sophie’s, so I wanted to ask you what you thought.”

  “Who is this man?” Sarah asked, a bit baffled trying to figure out who she was talking about

  “His name is Andy.”

  Sarah laughed. “What a relief,” she said, still chuckling. “You had me worried for a minute. Bernice, you couldn’t have met a nicer man. He’s been a friend of mine since I moved here, and Sophie knew him long before that. You can go out with Andy and be perfectly comfortable that you’re in good hands.”

  “But he said he has a teenage daughter and at his age? I just don’t know what that’s all about.”

  “Bernice, Andy is an open and honest person. Just ask him to tell you the story about his daughter, Caitlyn. By the way, you already know her.”

  “I do?” Bernice frowned, trying to remember having met a Caitlyn.

  “…from our quilt club,” Sarah added.

  “Caitlyn? Of course, I remember her now. She’s an adorable young girl and seems very smart. That’s Andy’s daughter?” Bernice considered this new information for a moment, then asked, “What happened to his wife?”

  “I’m going to let Andy tell you that story, but I can tell you that she died and Caitlyn came to live with her dad just a few years ago.”

  “The wife must have been much younger…” Bernice said as she contemplated this new information.

  “She was, and there’s a fascinating story that I’m sure Andy will share with you once you two get to know one another, but in the meantime, I can vouch for the man, and actually I think you’ll enjoy going
out with him. He’s bright, energetic, fun, and always learning something new at the community center.”

  “I met him when I stopped by the computer center to see if there was anyone on the staff who could help me choose a new computer. Andy offered right away, and he doesn’t even work there.”

  “No, but he knows all there is to know about computers, and he’s very generous with his time. He’s the one who got me into using the computer when I first moved here.”

  “So you think…?”

  “Go to dinner. Give it a chance. I predict that you’ll really enjoy spending time with him. And now, let’s get these bags sealed up,” Sarah added. “The quilt show is only three days away!”

  Bernice sighed, then smiled, and began sealing bags.

  * * *

  “Bernice, we need to be on the road.” Bernice came running out of the house, this time carrying another box of feedsack packets which she balanced on top of the others already loaded in the car.

  “You never know,” Bernice said breathlessly. “I don’t want to run out.”

  “Remember,” Sarah said, “Sophie and Norman have a box of assorted sizes in his trunk in case of an emergency. You have more than enough.”

  “And Delores is bringing her quilts for my booth?”

  “She called me this morning from the road to tell me she had already left.” They had planned to meet her at the security kiosk and caravan to Hamilton, but Delores said she had something to do and wanted to get to the show early. “So hop in the car,” Sarah added patiently, “and let’s get on the road.”

  It was just beginning to get light. The show was opening at 10:00 and they had planned to leave by 6:00 a.m. so they’d have several hours to set up. Ruth and her husband had gone the night before to get the Running Stitches booth set up, a much more complicated job than what Bernice was facing.

  Once they were on the road, Bernice began to relax. “I think we have an excellent presentation,” she said, going over the details in her mind.