“What we came here to ask you is if you think Amber and Molly could have been victims of a traffic accident. When we heard that Amber wandered, we wondered if it was possible that someone hit the girls with a car, killing Amber and knocking Molly out. Maybe whoever hit them panicked and buried Amber in the woods, and when they realized Molly was still alive left her in the park where someone would find her.”
Janet and Leo looked at each other for a few moments. Leo rubbed his chin.
“I suppose it could have happened like that,” he said thoughtfully.
“The timing would have had to be perfect,” Janet added. “Traffic wasn’t like it is today, but there was a pretty steady flow. That’s why we finally called the police after we found Amber for the umpteenth time, wandering unsupervised. I won’t say it couldn’t have happened like that, though.”
Harriet chewed her lip.
“The problem is, how do we prove it?”
“I supposed that’s always the problem in this sort of situation,” Janet said.
They all picked up their glasses at the same time and laughed.
“What kind of quilting do you do?” Janet asked.
Lauren got out her tablet and called up pictures of her latest quilt and, with a little looking, found one of Harriet’s, too. Leo went outside to work in the garden, and the women talked about quilting through another glass of lemonade.
Chapter 10
Harriet adjusted the mirrors of her aunt’s small car for the umpteenth time while Lauren put on her seatbelt.
“I don’t know how she sees anything in this little death trap.”
Lauren chuckled.
“That’s because you drive a tank. Smaller cars have smaller windshields and smaller mirrors. Besides, your aunt has a rear camera on order. They made them standard this year, but her car just missed it.”
“How do you know that when I don’t?”
“She asked me about it at coffee when you were busy working. She didn’t want to bother you. You’ll be happy to know this car has a five-star crash rating, too. And before you ask, I looked that up for her before she bought the car.”
“Good, I guess.”
Harriet backed out of the Tabors’ driveway and headed back toward the coffee shop.
“I’m going to swing by the police department and see if Morse is in. Do you want to come with?”
“Let’s get my car first, since it’s on the way. I’ll meet you there.”
“Would either of you like coffee or anything?” Morse asked when they were seated in a small interview room at the Foggy Point Police Department.
Harriet couldn’t help but notice that the walls were heavily insulated with black soundproofing that had large chunks missing. The industrial Formica-topped table was scarred, and included a heavy metal loop she assumed was for attaching the manacles of feistier interviewees. The table was also bolted to the floor.
Lauren looked around at their surroundings but kept her mouth shut.
“I don’t know about Lauren, but none for me. We just drank a bunch of lemonade with Leo and Janet Tabor.”
Detective Morse leaned back in her chair, took a deep breath, and blew it slowly out.
“I’m afraid to ask what you were doing there.”
Lauren sat back in her chair and looked to Harriet.
“It was your idea, you can explain it.”
“Aunt Beth and I were talking this morning,” Harriet began. “She told me that Avanell Jalbert had told her Leo was falsely accused and in the process mentioned that Amber Price wandered the neighborhood a lot, including making it all the way to Stephens Street. Leo even took her here once in the hopes the police would call children’s services or something.
“Anyway, we wondered if the police at the time considered the possibility that the girls were hit by a car, with Amber being killed and Molly knocked unconscious. Maybe the driver panicked and buried Amber then left Molly where she’d be found.”
Morse furrowed her brow and pressed her lips together.
“I don’t remember seeing that in the file. I’ll look again. Short of an eyewitness, I’m not sure how you’d prove it. Traffic cameras weren’t generally in use back then, and I’m guessing Foggy Point wasn’t on the forefront of that political hot potato in any case. I guess we could check and see if there was a car lot or any other business that might have had security cameras.
“Even so, the chance of them having tape—and it would be tape that long ago—is almost nil. The only hope would be if they saw something, didn’t want to be involved, but saved it for reasons unknown. I wouldn’t hold my breath on this one.” She flipped a page in her small spiral notebook and wrote something. “I will check it out, though. We haven’t got anything else at this point.”
“Molly keeps asking Lauren and me to help her. We were hoping there might be a simple explanation. Not that someone killing and burying Amber is simple, but an accident would be better than…I don’t know, I guess it’s all awful.”
“Molly’s been down here several times, too. Unless we come up with a previously unknown witness or find Amber’s body, I’m afraid she’s going to be disappointed.”
Harriet stood up.
“Thanks for listening to us. I know you’re doing everything you can.”
Morse and Lauren got up as well.
“Listen, if you have any other ideas, feel free to share,” Morse told them. “Like I said, we’re getting nowhere. I’m working with a retired detective who was on the force back then, but he said after they cleared Leo Tabor, they didn’t come up with anything. If there’d been forensic evidence, we could apply new tests that have been developed since then, but we’ve got nothing.”
“If Amber’s mother didn’t watch her closely, I suppose anything could have happened,” Harriet mused.
“Unfortunately, being an overworked single mother who didn’t watch her child as well as her neighbors would have liked is not a crime in this town. Apart from Leo bringing Amber to the station and calling a few times, Sandra Price was never investigated for child neglect. She had her hands full, and people were pretty sympathetic.”
“We better be on our way,” Lauren said. “We have quilts to make, and presumably, you have criminals to catch.”
Morse chuckled.
“Let me know when you’re ready to start binding the quilts. I’m pretty fast.” She looked at Lauren. “And before you say something snarky, I’m good and fast.”
Lauren held her hands up.
“Hey, I didn’t say anything. As long as you’re the one with the gun, I’m not saying anything about your binding skill.”
Harriet laughed at that.
“Come on, I need to finish my chores so I can give my aunt her car back.”
Harriet went home to check on Scooter and then to Pins and Needles for quilting thread for her machine. She chose a pastel variegated thread that had lavender, green, yellow and cream segments. In case the Threads didn’t like her choice, she picked up more off-white, pale lavender and pale-green thread, too. She could always use the solid colors for her customer quilts if they weren’t needed.
She stopped by the grocery store and was just putting her purchases away at home when James drove up in his white restaurant van. She opened the door before he reached the small porch to her studio.
“This is an unexpected pleasure. Is that chocolate I smell coming from the box in your hand?”
“You’re getting to be like Pavlov’s dog. Yes, this is a chocolate box, but they are individually wrapped inside, so don’t tell me you can really smell them.”
“You’re right, my mouth is watering in expectation of your chocolates. You are ruining me for anyone else’s truffles.”
“I should hope so,” he said and laughed. “This is a test box of new flavors. If you’re willing, I’d like you to try them. Not all at once, I hope. Eat one, write down what flavor you think it is, and then look at the paper under its spot in the box. I want to see if the flavors a
re easily recognizable.”
He followed her into the kitchen and put the candy on the shelf in her refrigerator.
“Those aren’t actually why I’m here. The restaurant is closed today because it’s Monday. I was going to go visit my mom with a little dinner snack and thought I’d see if you want to come with me. I figured it would give you a chance to ask her about her old friend and the gossip on the street.”
“That would be great,” Harriet said. Then her shoulders sagged. “I have one little problem. I have to get my car at the dealer’s and leave Aunt Beth’s at her house. She got a ride home from her volunteer work, so I was going to pick her up to go get my car.”
“What if I follow you to her house, and then take you to get your car. You can follow me to my mom’s from there.”
“That will work. I’m sure Aunt Beth is tired from sorting clothes all day.”
“It’s a plan, then,” James said. “Let me call my mom real quick and give her an estimated time of arrival.”
Chapter 11
Harriet looked out the front and then the side window as James drove into his mother’s neighborhood.
“Gosh, this reminds me of some of the villages in the Netherlands. You don’t usually see such steeply pitched roofs in this climate.”
James looked around as if seeing it for the first time.
“I guess that was the idea. It’s one of those planned deals. We lived in an old Victorian like everyone else when I was growing up. They finally got tired of taking care of such a big old place. This is their downsize house.”
“They must have a great view of the docks and beyond.”
James turned the car into a sloped driveway and parked.
“Let’s go in, and you can see.” He got out and opened the side door of the van, and pulled out an insulated box. “I hope you’re hungry. I’m trying out a new recipe. My mom is always my most honest critic, so it has to pass her first.”
Harriet got out, and James led the way up six steps to the front door, which opened as they reached the landing.
“Hi, you must be Harriet.” James’s mother was a slender woman with graying sandy hair and blue eyes. She wore blue jeans with a cotton blouse topped by a linen V-necked sweater. She held her hand out, and Harriet shook it.
“Nice to meet you.”
“James has told me a lot about you. Sounds like you’ve had your fair share of trouble since you moved back to Foggy Point. I’m Kathy, by the way. Here, let’s sit in the front room while James fusses in the kitchen.”
She led the way to a sitting room to the right of the front door while James went the opposite direction, presumably to the kitchen.
“Your home is beautiful,” Harriet said. “I was just telling James I didn’t even know about this neighborhood. It reminds me of Europe.”
“That was the developer’s idea. His plan is to ‘gentrify’ this old industrial part of Foggy Point. Up until two years ago, this whole block was some sort of ship repair yard. It hadn’t been in business for more than ten years. The houses are all built to green standards and also for aging in place. There are two stories, but the second pantry in the kitchen is wired to be converted into an elevator if that becomes necessary.”
“He did a great job, and your view is spectacular.”
“Thank you. Now, James said you had some questions for me.”
Harriet explained how DeAnn’s sister had come to town and was anxious to figure out what had happened to her.
“DeAnn told her about some of the unfortunate situations we’ve run into since I’ve been back, and now her sister thinks our quilting group is some-how going to be able to solve a mystery the police have been working on for twenty years.”
“My friend Lois lived on the same street where that other little girl went missing. I guess your friend’s sister lived on that street, too. Of course, it was all in the paper, but most of the attention was on the other girl—Amber, I think, was her name.
“I called Lois when James said you were interested in what happened. We don’t know anything that wasn’t in the newspaper, but I can tell you Lois never thought that man Leo did it. It was disgraceful how they crucified him, and all along he had an alibi, if I remember right.
“Anyway, Lois and I have no proof, but we always suspected another neighbor—Gary Alexander. He had been in prison for domestic battery and had just returned. His wife took him back. He took anger management classes while he was in prison. Of course, he beat her again, and I think he went back to prison; but that’s another story, and it happened years later.”
“Is there evidence to suggest he was involved with the little girls?”
Kathy sighed.
“Not really. Lois just didn’t like him. I suppose Amber’s dad could be a possibility. The parents’ marriage didn’t last more than a year after she went missing, if they were ever married in the first place. He never was around before she went missing, so maybe they weren’t. I’ve read articles that say it’s not all that unusual for the family of a missing child to fall apart afterward.”
“I’ll tell my friend Lauren about both possibilities. She’s a computer whiz. If there’s anything about either of those guys in the public record or anywhere else on the Internet, she’ll be able to find it.”
“I wish I could tell you more. Lois said her neighborhood was pretty average. Everyone kept their yards nice. No one had wild parties or anything. Once a year, they had a block party, and she said up until Amber disappeared, everyone went. Of course, Leo moved away, and Sandra didn’t participate for a few years, but Lois says she eventually started coming again.”
“Like I was saying before, if the police couldn’t come up with anything in twenty years, I don’t know what Molly expects a bunch of quilters to do. We’re trying because she’s DeAnn’s sister, but I’m not holding out much hope.”
“I wish I had more to tell you, but Lois really didn’t know anything.”
“What was Foggy Point like back then? I was mostly in boarding school, so I don’t really have a lot of memories.”
“You were a child in any case. Well, it was smaller…”
Kathy entertained Harriet with stories of Foggy Point twenty years before. She got out a scrapbook to illustrate her tales. Before Harriet knew it, an hour had passed.
She pointed to a picture.
“James is so cute in his little baseball uniform. How old was he?”
Kathy looked at the ceiling while she thought.
“He must have been five, maybe. He was always into sports. As you might have guessed, you could have knocked his dad and I over with a feather when he turned down a full-ride sports scholarship to go to culinary school. Speaking of his dad, you’ll have to come back another time when my husband isn’t off fishing with his cronies.”
“I heard that crack about culinary school,” James said as he came across the entry hall and into the living room. “Your dinner is served.”
Harriet sniffed.
“It smells good, whatever it is.”
He made a deep bow and gestured with a broad sweep of his arm, directing them to the kitchen.
“This way, Madame et Mademoiselle. Since we are a small party tonight, dinner will be served in the small dining room.”
Kathy led the way.
“James is trying to tell you we’re eating in the kitchen nook.”
“What are we having?” Harriet asked.
“We are having my first attempt at Frogmore stew,” James told her.
Harriet and Kathy looked at each other.
“I can tell by your confused looks that you don’t know what Frogmore stew is. Let me enlighten you.” He pulled out first his mother’s chair then Harriet’s as he spoke. “Frogmore stew is a classic Low Country South Carolina dish also known as a Low-country boil or Beaufort stew. Basically, it has shrimp, corn on the cob, new potatoes and, in my recipe, hot sausage and a bunch of secret spices.” He smiled. “I’m hoping to add it to my summer menu once a we
ek. If the shrimp hold up, I’ll be able to use Puget Sound-caught shrimp, and that will be a big draw.”
He placed a basket of breads in the middle of the table and got a dish of butter from the refrigerator. He served the two women then watched their reactions as they took their first bites. Only when they smiled and gave him a thumbs-up did he sit and serve himself.
Harriet leaned back in her chair and took a deep breath.
“That was so delicious. I ate way more than I should have.”
“Thanks,” James said. “I was pretty sure it would be a hit, but you never know.”
A distinctive chime sounded from Harriet’s pocket.
“Excuse me for a moment. This is my aunt.” She stood up and went into the functional part of the kitchen as she answered her phone.
“Aunt Beth?”
A man spoke. She felt the blood drain from her face. James came over and took her free arm, leading her back to her chair.
“What’s wrong?” he asked when she’d ended her call.
“It’s my aunt. There’s been some sort of accident.”
Kathy stood up.
“Go, take her to her aunt. I’ll clean up here. Call me when you know something.”
Chapter 12
Harriet dialed Mavis and Lauren as James drove her to the Jefferson County hospital.
“They’ll meet us there,” she said.
“Do you have any idea what happened?”
“The paramedic said her car went off the road on a steep curve on Miller Hill Road. I have no idea what she was doing there. He said she was lucky in that her car was stopped by a tree a few feet over the edge. I guess someone was driving behind her and saw it happen, so they called nine-one-one.”
“Did they say anything about how she is?”
“He did say she was in good enough shape to refuse transportation until he called me.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” James was quiet for a moment. “Actually, I have no idea, but that’s the kind of thing my mom says in these situations.”
Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) Page 7
