"Here, I brought you some breakfast. You might feel better if you eat. It's time to take another pill, too.” She opened her own box and started wolfing the contents.
"I don't want to talk about Miz Jalbert and her family.” Misty wrapped her arms around herself and started to rock. “That family is bad, bad, bad."
Carla opened the top of Misty's box, revealing two pancakes, a pale yellow clump of scrambled eggs and two strips of bacon. A ball of whipped butter slid from the pancakes to the side of the box. She stabbed a white plastic fork into them.
"Try to eat something, okay? I gotta go to work, but I'll come back when I get off.” She pulled a paper-wrapped bundle from the bag and set it on the wooden box that served as a table. “They don't make nothing but breakfast food in the morning, but I got you an egg sandwich you can have for lunch.” She took the pill bottle from the windowsill where Harriet had left it and shook one out into her palm. “Here,” she said and handed the pill to Misty.
She picked up the bottle of water from the floor and held it out. Misty didn't say anything, but she took the pill and swallowed it. This time she did follow up with a long drink of water.
Carla put her empty container in the fast food bag and took it with her as she went to the door. She held the door open, and Harriet realized she was waiting for her to leave, too.
"She should be better by tonight. She'll be more normal when she's been on her medicine for a while, but that don't mean she'll remember everything that happened when she was off it. I mean, she remembers, but she can't tell what was real and what wasn't."
"I have to try to talk to her. I think it's very possible she saw Avanell's murder."
"I liked Miz Jalbert. I hope they catch whoever killed her, but if it depends on Misty, don't get your hopes up too high."
Harriet followed her out of the shed. Carla disappeared down a path, and Harriet went back to the house. She came in just as Mavis emerged from the bathroom.
"My turn?” she asked.
Mavis looked at her. “It's all yours."
Harriet was thankful she didn't ask more.
After her shower, she dressed in her jeans and one of her thrift shop shirts. Mavis was in the kitchen. Harriet watched as she loaded a thermos, two bottles of water and several plastic baggies filled with carrot and celery sticks into a padded carry bag. She started toward Harriet then turned back and grabbed a box of crackers.
"We can't be too good,” she said with a sheepish grin.
The drive to Tacoma seemed shorter this time, but Harriet supposed that was the result of having made it so many times it was becoming familiar. Mavis looked at her watch as they pulled into the show grounds.
"We're early,” she announced. “What do you say we go find a cup of coffee or tea and some kind of pastry? That should give them time to open."
Harriet agreed, and Mavis directed her back out on the highway and off again at the next exit.
"Any exit that has more than two gas stations has to have a coffee shop,” she announced.
She was right.
The show was open when they pulled into the parking lot the second time. They bought their tickets and proceeded to spend the next three hours looking at all the exhibits in great detail. It always amazed Harriet to see the infinite number of ways people could combine color and fabric and thread and stitching to create truly unique works of art.
They saved the Loose Threads display until the end and were not disappointed. There was a small sign where Avanell's quilt had hung. Viewers were directed to the display of prize winners in an alcove at the front of the building.
"This can only mean one thing,” Mavis said. “Avanell must have won the overall."
"Look,” Harriet said. She pointed at Robin's blue-and-yellow log cabin. It had a red rosette pinned to its corner.
"Looks like Jenny did all right, too,” Mavis said. The pink rosette pinned to Jenny's quilt was a perfect complement to its berry-and-sea-foam-green color scheme.
"Let's go to the quilt store and get some lunch, then we can come back and start taking these down and bagging them for the trip home."
Mavis drove them across Tacoma, first to the quilt store then to an Italian restaurant called Tremonte's. Frank Tremonte had been a friend of her husband Thomas when they were in the Air Force together. She told Harriet she and Thomas had been among the first customers when Frank and his wife Rosalie opened the place and continued to eat there a few times a year ever after. Tremonte's specialized in the hearty dishes of southern Italy. It was located in a two-story bungalow-style house painted the same green that made up the end stripe of the Italian flag.
Harriet breathed deep as they walked into the warm room. The smell of garlic and oregano permeated the air. A narrow shelf rimmed walls with a display of colorful patterned plates she recognized as Sicilian. A slim young woman in a green apron led them to a corner booth.
"Where are your parents off to now?” Mavis asked the dark-haired man who brought a basket of crusty French bread to their table moments later. “Harriet, meet Tommy Tremonte. His parents turned the restaurant over to his capable hands when they retired. Seems like they've been traveling ever since."
Harriet made the appropriate small talk, and the two women placed their orders. Her fettuccine Gamberi featured shrimp and basil in a cream sauce. Mavis chose the hearty Tuscan chicken and vegetables, and Harriet could quickly see this was one of those places where everything on the menu was worthy of selection.
"I guess this will be dinner, huh?” She asked.
"This might be all we need until next week,” Mavis said and groaned. “I guess we better go back and get our work done. Moving around a little will do us some good."
Harriet was folding Avanell's quilt when Jeri approached her. The long-limbed blond woman was dressed in navy-blue wool flannel pants and a white oxford-cloth shirt. Her sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. She held out a manila mailing envelope.
"Could you take this to your group?” she asked. “The individual prize premiums are in sealed envelopes inside. Since all the winners were within your group entry, you might as well save us the postage."
Harriet reached for the envelope. The woman pulled it back a little.
"You'll need to sign the receipt indicating you're taking responsibility for the funds.” She held a slip of paper and a pen in her other hand. “We weren't really sure where to send Avanell Jalbert's prize money.” She lowered her voice. “I understand her daughter put her house on the market right after the funeral."
"Things have changed,” Harriet said. “But I'll take it anyway."
She wasn't sure if Michelle had actually left Foggy Point or not, but if she'd been Aiden, she'd have changed the locks the minute his sister walked out the door. She could imagine Michelle waiting until he left in the morning then going in and taking the prize money and anything else she thought she could get away with. With him having been out of the country for three years, anything Avanell had acquired while he was gone could be fair game.
She finished folding Avanell's quilt. She looked in the tote bag she'd used to carry the quilt sacks in, but it was empty. She knew the quilt had arrived in a pillow slip, but it was nowhere to be found.
She carefully slid the quilt into the tote bag. She'd have to look in her car when they got back to Foggy Point.
Thinking about her Honda made Harriet want to cry. It wasn't just one more freedom she'd lost in the last week. Her Honda was the first major purchase she'd made after Steve died. It was the first step toward her new independent life, and now it was sitting unused in her driveway while she hid away at Mavis's house.
That was going to change, she decided. When Monday came, she was going back home. She'd call an alarm company, change the locks and turn Aunt Beth's house into Fort Knox if she needed to, but she was going home.
She carried the bags of quilts to the front of the display room. Mavis had a stack of others on a pushcart.
"One of the janitors loan
ed me this cart to help us get out to the car.” She stopped. “What's got into you? You look like you just won the lottery or something."
Harriet knew she was smiling. “I'm going home,” she said.
Mavis looked at her over the top of her glasses. “What do you mean, home?” she asked.
"I'm going back to Aunt Beth's on Monday. I'll do whatever I need to do to be sure I'm safe, but I'm going home."
"All right, then,” Mavis said. “You tell me what I can do to help and I'll do it."
They spent much of the ride home discussing the various safety measures that could be taken to prevent another break-in.
"We should talk to Darcy,” Mavis said. “Unfortunately, her job has schooled her well in what doesn't work, safety-wise."
"Thank you for not trying to talk me out of this,” Harriet said and felt tears forming in her eyes. “I'm not sure Aunt Beth would be so supportive if she were here."
"Even your aunt Beth can't believe you would be well served by hiding out for who knows how long, waiting to start living again."
"Well, I appreciate your support."
"By the way,” Mavis said. “Did you ever find that girl Misty?"
"I did, but she hasn't been much help so far."
"How's that? Won't she talk to you?"
"I think she will when her medicine takes effect. It turns out she's bipolar. As long as she takes her medicine she's fine, but when she was let go from the Vitamin Factory, she left her pills at her work station. She went back on Wednesday to try to sneak in and get them. At least, I think that's what happened. I think she may have seen what happened to Avanell, but her friend Carla says she goes downhill pretty fast without her pills. Without a job, she doesn't have insurance, and with no insurance, she can't get medicine. Carla is helping her get set up with the free clinic, but she has to become stable enough to go in for evaluation. In the meantime, she's too out of it to say what, if anything, she saw. She seems really scared, too, but it's hard to tell if that's real or her condition."
"If she did see who killed Avanell, we should tell the police. She could be in danger."
"She's in no shape to talk to anyone about it. I don't even know if she saw anything, and if she did, I don't know if the killer knows they've been seen. All I know is when I try to ask her about Avanell, she gets real agitated."
"I don't guess she's said anything about Avanell's or Lauren's quilts."
"She's way too out of it for that. I did see her ripping up the baby quilt she was making, but that might not mean anything."
Chapter Thirty-four
It was fully dark when Mavis guided the Town Car down the wooded lane to the cottage. She'd let Harriet drive to Tacoma but had insisted on taking the wheel for the rest of the trip.
Harriet yawned.
"We need to get you inside and into your jammies,” Mavis said.
"I don't know why riding in a car makes me so tired."
"I think your tiredness has more to do with what's happened to you in the last few days. You need more than a few good days of doing nothing to recover your strength."
"I don't think I'm going to be able to rest until I figure out who attacked me and why."
"I hope you do find out, but the way things are going, that doesn't seem likely. I don't mean to be negative, but I watch those crime shows, and they say if they don't have a strong lead in the first forty-eight hours, they aren't likely to solve the case. And face it—robbery isn't a high priority, even in Foggy Point, and especially when nothing was really taken."
"Oh, God, you mean this will never really be over? I'll just go back to Aunt Beth's, triple-lock my doors and set my new alarm and jump out of my skin every time the tree branch scrapes the window?"
"I'm afraid that's more likely than not."
Harriet got out of the car and went into the house. “I need to drown my sorrows in a cup of Earl Grey,” she said, “Care to join me?"
Mavis nodded and walked over to the phone. The red message light was blinking, indicating there were three messages. The first was her middle son, asking if she could babysit the following morning. He said he'd just been asked to sing a solo at the eight o'clock church service. The next message was Harold saying he would come by at ten to help Harriet distribute the quilts. He said she should only call if that wasn't okay.
"That will be perfect,” she said. “You can go babysit and I'll be with Harold, so you won't have to worry."
"You mean except for the two-hour difference from when I leave until Harold arrives."
"I really don't think I'm in danger here. When I was attacked it was because I was in the way. Someone wanted to destroy Lauren's quilt. The first time, I was admittedly in the wrong part of town. Besides, I promise I will lock the door."
"There is some truth to what you say. There hasn't been any indication anyone has come looking for you here."
"No strangers, anyway,” Harriet said. She turned to the stove and put the kettle on the burner.
Mavis pushed the button to listen to the final message. Aiden was calling to ask if he could stop by. Michelle had left town, and he was feeling lonely. Mavis called him back and invited him to join them for tea.
Harriet poured their tea, and put their mugs and the sugar bowl on the table.
"I think I'll stay in my room and read when Aiden gets here,” she said and sat down. “It sounded like he really was looking for a maternal shoulder to cry on."
"I think he wants to see you and I'm a convenient excuse.” Mavis joined her at the table.
"Yesterday you said Aiden wasn't interested in me and I was the one imagining things."
"You misunderstand. I said he wasn't looking for a serious relationship right now. That doesn't mean he isn't interested."
"Well, I'm not interested in just being ‘friends with benefits.’ This town is too small."
"Is there no middle ground? Can't you try dating and see where it leads? And please, don't try to tell me Harold is a serious contender for your affection."
A knock on the door prevented Harriet from having to answer. Mavis got up and let Aiden in. His eyes were back to their icy blue-white color. They were also swollen and rimmed in red, as if he'd been crying. Mavis poured hot water over a peppermint teabag in a mug and handed it to him. He pulled out the chair next to Harriet's and sat down.
"My sister and I had it out today,” he said and looked down at his tea. “She'd been hiding at Uncle Bertie's, but she came back. I found her rifling through Mom's jewelry box."
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry,” Mavis said and put her hand over his.
"It got worse.” His eyes filled with tears, and he blinked rapidly and took a deep breath. “She says if I don't pay her debts off, and help Uncle Bertie, she'll cut me off. She'll never speak to me and she won't let me see my nieces. And she says Uncle Bertie feels the same way."
"She's just upset,” Mavis protested. “She can't mean it."
"Oh, I think she means every word of it. You didn't see her."
"I'm sure she'll think differently when she gets past her grief about your mother."
Harriet was with Aiden. She hadn't known Michelle as long as Mavis had, but what little contact she'd had made her believe Michelle was a self-centered, spoiled brat. She hadn't once seen the woman express any emotion about Avanell. It was all about the money.
"Maybe I should give her the money,” Aiden said. “I don't need it. I could sell the house. That should pay off her bills."
"Would that really solve anything?” Harriet asked. “I mean, it's none of my business, but it seems like your mom went to pretty great lengths to not rescue your sister."
"That was my other thought. Mom did make pretty elaborate arrangements to have an allowance established for Michelle. Who am I to second-guess her?” He covered his face with his hands. “It's all such a mess. I had a lot of time in Africa to think about my family. I had such big plans for my return. I thought I had everything all worked out. None of this is how I planned it
."
Mavis reached over and rubbed his back. “You don't have to decide this tonight, honey. Why don't you give it some time? When Michelle knows she isn't going to get any money from you, she'll have to do something else. Once she's figured her life out, then you can try again. She'll see things differently then."
"I'm not sure she'll ever figure things out,” he said. “She's a lawyer, for God's sake. She and her husband both make good salaries, but somehow it's not enough. Nothing is ever enough for Michelle."
"I've got an idea,” Mavis said. She pulled a worn metal box from a kitchen drawer and set it on the table. “Maybe you...” She looked at Aiden. “...can forget about Michelle, and you...” She looked at Harriet. “You can forget about whoever it is who trashed your studio and drugged you."
"I don't know,” Aiden said. “That's a tall order.” He started to smile. He clearly recognized the metal box.
Mavis opened the lid of the box, revealing a very old-looking set of dominos. “Nothing relaxes the mind like a rousing game of dominos."
Harriet looked skeptical, but two hours later, she had to admit she hadn't thought about her problems since the game began. Mavis was both skilled and cutthroat. It took every bit of her concentration to avoid being totally skunked. She looked over at Aiden. He seemed to have been distracted, too.
Mavis stood up. “I don't know about you kids, but I need my beauty rest.” She arranged the dominos in the tin box and put the lid back on. “I trust you won't stay up too late,” she said and looked over her reading glasses at Aiden.
He stood up. “Yeah, I need to be going, too.” He picked up their mugs and carried them to the sink, and generally loitered in the kitchen until Mavis was in her room with the door shut.
Harriet followed him to the door. “Can I see you tomorrow?” he asked her.
"I have to return the quilts from the show tomorrow morning. Harold is going to drive me."
Before Aiden had come over, she had decided she wasn't going to see either him or Harold after tomorrow morning until she was moved back home and her life had returned to some semblance of normalcy. Now, in response to her news, Aiden looked like he'd lost his last friend—which in a way he had, at least, as far as his family was concerned.
Quilt As Desired Page 24
