"Okay, I'm finished with this game,” she announced.
Aiden sat up. “What's going on?” he asked, and looked around as if he didn't know where he was.
"I'm out of here, that's what's going on. Ouch!” Harriet said, and winced as her feet hit the floor.
The nurse took a good look at her and went for the door.
"I'll call the doctor,” she said as she left the room.
The doctor came in, pronounced Harriet able to travel, gave her a prescription for pain medication and instructed her to return for a check-up in one week. Aiden brought his car around to the front entrance, and a nurse wheeled her into the misty morning.
"Where to now, milady?” he asked when he had her safely buckled into the passenger seat.
"Home,” she said. “I just want a hot shower and a couple of hours sleep in a bed that doesn't have a plastic sheet."
"Do you think that's wise?"
"Right now I don't think anything."
"First someone breaks into your studio and wrecks everything, and then someone whacks you on the head and leaves you for dead. I'm no detective, but I have to think someone isn't too happy with you. The last thing I think you should be is a sitting duck, and that's exactly what you'll be if you go home."
"I don't really have a lot of options. Besides, I have a business to run."
"Let me think a minute,” he said. “My studio would be a little cramped."
"And not obvious at all,” Harriet said. “Sarah Ness would have it all over town before my bag was unpacked."
"There's tons of room at my mom's house."
"Oh, yeah. That would be real comfortable for all of us. Your sister hates me. You hate your uncle. We could have a great time together."
"Have you got a better idea?"
"Yeah, I go home to Fred, and you go back to your family.” She leaned her head against the car window. “And I really can't talk about it anymore."
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Aiden was guiding his car down the wooded drive that led to Mavis Willis's cottage.
"I can't just drop in on Mavis like this,” Harriet protested in a voice barely above a whisper. “It's only what o'clock in the morning besides."
"It is seven-fifteen, and we both know Mavis gets up earlier than that."
Mavis greeted them at the door in a plaid flannel bathrobe that had once belonged to her husband.
"What have we here?” she said and took Harriet's free arm. Aiden let go of her other one and followed them into the sitting room of the cottage.
"Sit,” Mavis said, and guided Harriet into a tan corduroy recliner. “Go get a pillow from the bed in that room next to the bathroom,” she ordered Aiden and pointed toward a short hallway.
He returned with a down pillow, and Mavis gently wedged it under Harriet's head, taking the pressure off the lump and relieving her pain considerably.
"Go put the kettle on,” she continued in that voice mothers use and kids of every age obey without question.
"Now,” she said to Harriet as soon as he was out of earshot, “tell me what happened before he gets back."
Harriet told her the basics: she gave Lauren her quilt then tried to find Misty; Misty didn't answer the door, it opened and Harriet stepped in. The next thing she knew, she was in her car with a big headache. She drove home. Aiden saw her driving erratically, followed her and took her to the hospital. She finished with the fact that Aiden didn't think she should go home.
"I'm not sure I agree with his theory about your safety, but my boys played football and I do know that after a blow to the head you shouldn't be alone for a few days. You can stay in my spare room for a day or two until we're sure your head is okay."
"Water's ready,” Aiden called from the kitchen. Mavis went in and returned in a few minutes with a tray loaded with a pot of tea, two mugs, a sugar bowl and small pitcher of cream.
"I better take off,” Aiden said.
"Thank you,” Harriet told him. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"No problem,” he said and went out the door.
"I'm telling you, that boy is sweet on you."
"I'm not so sure about that,” she said, but in a small corner of her heart, she hoped it was true.
"He sure has been handy when you've needed a friend."
"I know, but I can't help but think about what Lauren said yesterday. You know, when we were talking about who stood to gain from Avanell's death, and she said Aiden was the one who inherited money when Avanell died."
"You can't believe gossip like that."
"But who was right there when the studio was broken into? And who found me after Misty's place? Aiden—both times. And he's been on me like a glove. He finds a reason to come over almost every day."
"That's not unusual if the boy has a crush on you."
"Even that doesn't make sense. I'm at least ten years older than him. He's a young professional with a bright future. He could have any woman in Foggy Point. Why me?"
"Let's look at the other side. Why would Aiden break into your studio and trash it? And why would he hit you on the head only to turn around and bring you to the hospital when you came to?"
"I think Misty is the key to this,” Harriet said. “Nobody's seen her since she was fired from her job at The Vitamin Factory on Tuesday. I take that back—Carla saw her right after that. Then my studio was broken into, after Misty went missing, with Avanell being killed that same night, maybe at the same time even. Now, when I try to find Misty, I get hit on the head. It has to be connected."
"But what does any of that have to do with Aiden?"
"Misty must know something about Avanell's death,” Harriet decided.
"That doesn't explain your studio, and maybe what she knows about Avanell's death is that she killed her. Did you think of that?"
"I haven't figured out how the studio fits into anything yet, but I don't believe in coincidence. And I have a hard time believing Misty would kill Avanell. Carla said Avanell had helped Misty."
"But Avanell didn't keep her from being fired. Maybe she was mad at her,” Mavis suggested.
"When Carla came to get Avanell at lunch, she said Tony fired Misty. It's not clear that Misty saw Avanell. Tony fired her, not Avanell."
"Here, drink your tea,” Mavis said, and handed her a mug. “We aren't going to solve this right now, and you shouldn't be getting worked up about it while your head is hurting.” She picked up a lap quilt and tucked it around her. “Try to rest a while. Then, if you feel well enough, we'll get cleaned up and go meet the group at Pins and Needles to go to Avanell's memorial."
Harriet couldn't help but notice the pattern on the lap quilt. It was a sawtooth-style block made in Civil War fabrics. The pattern's name was Kansas Troubles.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Mavis drew the drapes in her living room and retreated to the kitchen. “You try to get some sleep, honey. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."
Harriet reclined the chair, adjusted the pillow and fell into a deep sleep. She woke two hours later when the doorbell rang. Mavis shuffled to the door, and when she opened it, Harriet could see Officer Nguyen.
"Is Ms. Harriet Truman here?"
Mavis nodded and led him into the living room.
"You are one hard lady to find,” he said. “I'm Officer Nguyen. I was at your house earlier this week."
"Yes,” Harriet said. “I remember. How can I help you?"
"Dr. Pattee reported you came in with a head wound last night. He said it looked like you'd been hit with the proverbial blunt object. Strictly speaking, he only has to report gunshot wounds, but Jefferson County is a small hospital in the middle of several small communities. We all work together.” He paused. “Is there anything you'd like to tell me about? This is your second incident in four days. That makes you a one-woman crime spree around here."
"I really don't know what I can tell you,” Harriet said. “I went to find someone in an apartment down
at the docks. I shouldn't have gone there by myself, and I paid the price. I don't think there's any big mystery."
"It's true you should have known better than to go down to the docks alone, but you were still assaulted. It's a crime, and you need to report it."
"Fine, as long as I can do it from this chair."
Officer Nguyen sat in a dining room chair Mavis placed next to the recliner. He opened a black leather flip-top notebook.
"Tell me what happened,” he said. “The long version."
She told the story again, including approximate times. He took notes and asked a few questions. When they were both satisfied she could recall nothing more, he closed the notebook and stood up.
"This isn't much to go on, but at least it will be on the record if anything else happens. And if you want my advice, until we figure out what's going on, you should stay here with Mrs. Willis."
Mavis appeared again from the kitchen and showed him out.
"Well, that's settled, then. You'll stay."
"I'll stay until my head stops spinning, but I have a cat to feed and Aunt Beth's business to run. I can't stay in hiding indefinitely."
"We'll see about that.” Mavis glanced at the clock. “I'm going to go rinse off and get dressed, and then we can go back to your house so you can get some clothes and get ready for the memorial. You can either put out food for the cat, or if it would make you feel better, you can bring him along."
Harriet closed her eyes and slipped into a drug-induced sleep until Mavis came out and awakened her, dressed in black and holding her purse and car keys.
Fred was frantic when Harriet opened the kitchen door. She immediately put food in his dish, but he kept weaving between her legs and meowing. She groaned as she bent down to pick him up. He began to purr.
"Did you miss me?” she asked, and he head-butted her in reply.
"Let me talk to the cat,” Mavis ordered. “You go take a hot shower and get into something black."
Not a problem, Harriet thought.
She came back down stairs twenty minutes later in the same black dress she'd worn on her two outings with Harold. This time she'd draped a large black silk scarf with a tiny grey pattern over one shoulder and held it in place with a black enameled pin.
Fred was reluctant to be left behind, but the two women retreated to the studio and escaped out that door. Mavis drove them to Pins and Needles and parked in front of the store.
"Honey, are you all right?” Connie said and pulled Harriet into a hug as she walked in the door. Harriet's head hurt too much to protest. “My daughter-in-law works the night shift at the hospital. She told me Aiden brought you into the emergency room last night with a head injury.” She held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay, mija?"
"I'm fine—really. It was just a little bump on the head."
"It's a goose egg, Connie,” Mavis interjected. “Luckily, she inherited her aunt's hard head. She's going to stay with me for a few days, just to be sure."
"Good,” Connie said. “You listen to Mavis and do what she says."
"I plan on it.” Harriet looked around for something to drink so she could take a pain pill. All this hugging and moving was making her head hurt again.
She noticed Carla in the small classroom folding fat quarters she had just cut.
"I'm going to get a drink of water,” she said and headed for the breakroom. She got her water then stopped in the training room.
"Carla,” she said, “can I talk to you a minute?"
Carla got a deer-in-the-headlights look but nodded assent.
"Do you know where Misty is? I'd really like to talk to her. I went to her house and someone knocked me out. I think she's in trouble, and I'd like to help her."
Carla looked down. “She came to my house yesterday,” she said to the floor. “She wasn't doing too good."
"In what way?"
"She really needs her medicine, and she don't have any. I told her to go to the free clinic for now and that I could help her on payday. I couldn't tell if she was going to do it or not."
"Tell her I have some fabric for her baby quilt and tell her I will get her some medicine."
"I don't know where she is. She's hearing voices. She said a man is coming to get her, and then she took off. I don't know if she'll be back or not."
"Listen, can you call me if she shows up again? I'm serious—I'll get her medicine for her. I'll get her enough to last until she gets a new job."
Carla looked up at her with clear blue eyes. “I'll try,” she said.
Harriet returned to the group of women. DeAnn was relating a bit of gossip about a woman named Barbara whom Harriet had yet to meet when Lauren came in.
Robin put her arm around Lauren's shoulders. “I heard about your quilt. I'm so sorry. Can I do anything to help?"
Lauren glared at Harriet. “You can't, but she can,” she said and gestured toward her. “I stayed up all night and repaired my quilt. There isn't time for me to re-quilt it on my sewing machine, but it wouldn't take anytime at all on the long-arm."
"Fine,” Harriet said. “I'll do it. Right after the memorial service."
Mavis started to protest, but she silenced her with a glance.
"Where is my quilt?” Sarah Ness demanded as she entered the store.
"My day is complete,” Harriet muttered to Mavis.
"I went to your place of business and waited and waited and you never showed up,” Sarah yelled.
Harriet's head began to pound in earnest. “Could you please lower your voice?” she asked. “Your quilt is done. I just need to take it off the machine frame."
"You leave her alone,” Mavis scolded. “She hit her head and had to spend the night in the hospital, that's why she wasn't there for your appointment."
"I can't believe there weren't two minutes to call me,” Sarah complained. “You probably waited forever in the waiting room."
Mavis glared at her. Sarah finally noticed and stopped talking. She stuck her bottom lip out. Mavis sighed. Her third son had raised pouting to an art-form; Sarah was a rank amateur.
Sarah looked at Mavis as she spoke to Harriet.
"I'm coming over as soon as this memorial thing is over. Have my quilt ready.” She turned her back and flounced off to the breakroom.
"Don't you worry about her, honey.” Mavis rubbed Harriet's arm. “Okay, everyone,” she said to the group. “Who's driving, and who needs a ride?"
The women quickly divided themselves among three cars and drove toward the strait to the Unitarian Church. The gravel parking lot was half-full when they pulled up to the low, glass-fronted building. Harriet hoped the chapel inside was more inviting than the cold exterior and was not disappointed.
They entered an open reception area. Wooden racks held colorful pamphlets with titles like “Why Should I Try Your Church,” “Securing the Future” and “The Front Steps.” A somber-looking woman with long grey hair pulled back and held with a silver clasp was handing out funeral programs in front of two ornately carved wooden doors. Mavis looked at her watch.
"We're a few minutes early,” Michelle said as a lanky blond man in a black suit came into the vestibule from a hallway that led off to the left. Mavis walked up to her and clasped her hand.
"I'm so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Jackson, I'm so sorry to see you again under such unhappy circumstances,” she added to the blond man.
Harriet assumed Jackson was Michelle's husband.
Bertrand de LaFontaine emerged from the same hallway, accompanied by a small, pale woman with red-rimmed eyes and two equally pale young women who had to be his daughters.
Mavis and DeAnn went to the family.
"I'm so sorry for you loss,” Mavis repeated, and took his hand in her two. “Our group won't be the same without our most prolific prizewinner."
"She loved making beautiful quilts. That and the business were her life,” Bertrand said.
"She loved her family, too,” DeAnn added.
"Harriet and I just went to Tacoma to get it—"
"Uncle Bertie, the chaplain needs to speak to you,” Michelle interrupted.
Bertrand pulled his hand from Mavis's with a look of apology and followed Michelle. Lauren and Robin were deep in conversation with the program woman. Harriet looked around at the clusters of people and felt alone. The one family member she knew wasn't in evidence. Her head was pounding again.
She touched Mavis on the arm. “I'm going to go find the restroom."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to freshen up a little.” She turned away before Mavis could protest.
She peeked down the hallway the family had come out of and saw a small sign sticking out of the wall at the other end. It had to be a restroom. She walked slowly down the hall, trying not to jostle her head. The sign turned out to be for a library, but the hallway angled to the right, so she continued on. Finally, at the end of the second hallway, she found the women's room and went in.
Two large white baskets filled with lavender and pink silk flowers were to the right of the door. Just beyond was a large open closet with a variety of choir robes, aprons and worn-looking flannel shirts splattered with paint, all on wire hangers. A box marked CANDLES sat on the shelf above the closet pole. A vanity table with hairspray, deodorant, cotton balls, breath spray and hand lotion was to the left of the door.
She went through an interior door that led into the actual lavatory, dampened a paper towel with cool water and held it to her forehead. She went back out to the dressing room area and sat on the vanity chair. She rubbed lotion into her hands then shut her eyes, propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her lavender-scented palms. She took a few deep breaths and willed her head to stop hurting.
Quilt As Desired Page 15
