“If they were killed with electrical wire wrapped around their throats, it might explain Duane’s murder.”
“And make Owen and Kate killers.” Lauren handed a bite of cookie to Carter.
“Did you catch the bad blood between him and Richard?”
“You mean that stare-down when Jorge was handing out the food? Yeah, I noticed.”
“It doesn’t make sense. If Owen is the serial killer and he killed Richard, why didn’t he strangle him?” Harriet wondered. “And how on earth do they know each other?”
“Maybe he didn’t expect to run into Richard, who recognized him and therefore had to be killed. He saw an opportunity and took it.”
Harriet took a bite of her chocolate chip cookie and chewed thoughtfully.
“Owen’s truck was right there. He and Kate went back to it before Richard went missing. Why wouldn’t he get a length of the wire then?”
“You think the truck driver is the murderer?” Mavis asked
“I thought you were napping,” Lauren said.
“I couldn’t get to sleep. Curly kept squirming around trying to get under the quilt, and as soon as I let her under it, she was circling and digging until she worked her way out again. And then I was thinking about Marjory’s sister-in-law. I know she’s a difficult person, but no one deserves to have her husband killed like that. And then there’s that poor spoiled daughter.”
“I know,” Harriet said. “This is going to devastate both of them. They seemed pretty dependent.”
“Maybe they killed him,” Lauren suggested.
“Lauren,” Mavis scolded.
“What?”
“She has a point,” Harriet said. “Everyone is a suspect until we prove otherwise, and if they were as broke as Marjory thinks, and Richard had life insurance, he might be worth more to them dead.”
“I suppose there’s no doubt it was murder,” Mavis said. “Is there any chance he had an accident? Or even did himself in?”
“Tom said he’d been hit in the head,” Harriet reminded her. “I suppose it’s possible he could have fallen on something, but he was in Brandy’s bed.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Mavis said. “At this point, anything’s possible.”
“I’m going to get my stitching,” Lauren said and stood up. “We might as well do something useful—we’re getting nowhere as crime solvers.”
Harriet followed her to the studio where they’d both stored their projects.
Chapter 18
Lauren and Harriet were sitting in front of the fireplace, the candelabrum and two oil lamps arranged around them providing a warm light. Lauren was cutting more leaves for her appliquéd wreathes from a piece of hand-dyed green fabric. Harriet was using scissors to cut small flannel squares from the scraps left over from the rag quilts they’d made. Mavis was rattling pots in the kitchen.
“Okay, I give,” Lauren said after watching Harriet closely for a few minutes. “What on earth are you doing?”
“I’m doing an experiment. One of my customers showed me pictures she’d taken at the Quilt Festival in Houston. They had a category for doll beds with doll quilts.”
Lauren stopped working and stared at her.
“You know, with all that ‘poor me, I went to boarding school’ business you’re always making us listen to, I never pegged you for the doll type.”
“Who said anything about dolls,” Harriet said. “And I’ve hardly mentioned boarding school at all.”
“Yeah, but it’s the excuse your aunt uses every time she’s trying to explain away your bad behavior.”
Harriet took a deep breath. She was determined not to let Lauren bait her into an argument.
“I’m seeing if I can make a miniature rag quilt from the leftover scraps from the homeless quilts. Before his sister came to town, Aiden was going to let me look at the toys in the attic at his place. He said he thought there was some doll furniture his mother had brought with her from France.”
“Good luck with that. That shark that passes for a sister has probably sold off anything of interest or value.”
“I wish Carla would call with an update. I’d like to know what kind of head game Michelle is playing on him.”
“She’ll call. I’m sure she’s waiting for an opportunity when they won’t notice, which means when Michelle is unconscious because that one doesn’t miss much.”
“You’re probably right,” Harriet said.
“Could you say that again?” Lauren prompted. “‘Lauren was right about something.’ Say it.”
“Don’t press your luck,” Harriet said, smiling in spite of herself.
Carter barked and licked Lauren in the face.
“I think that’s his signal for me to carry him into the other room to see who drove into the driveway,” she said and stood up.
Harriet set her flannel and scissors down on the table.
“I’ll come with you. It has to be Jorge and Aunt Beth.”
Instead, Connie and Rod stood on the porch outside the studio when she opened the door.
“Your aunt and Jorge will be along in a few minutes,” Connie said. “They just got Reverend Hafer to take over with Pat and Lisa at the shelter. We found a nurse to take care of Ronald. He had another episode where his face suddenly turned bright red and he started sweating.”
“Did he take his medicine?” Harriet asked.
“He did,” Rod answered. “Little white pill?”
“Yeah, that’s what he took after we found Duane when he almost fainted on us.”
“Don’t just stand there,” Mavis called from the kitchen door she was holding open with one hand while the other held up a ceramic mug. “I’ve got coffee and tea.”
“That sounds good,” Connie said and led the way into the kitchen. Rod came over and petted the still-barking Carter, eventually taking him from Lauren and holding him inside his down vest. Carter quivered with joy as Rod patted his little head and spoke to him in crooning tones.
“He’s a master with puppies and small children,” Connie said with affection.
“Get your drinks,” Mavis said. “We’re starving for information here. And I’ve got beef stew for everyone when Beth and Jorge get back.”
They didn’t have to wait long. Beth came into the kitchen before Connie had taken her place at the table with her coffee mug.
“Jorge is bringing some wood from the stack outside into the garage to dry before he comes in,” she said.
“Does he need help?” Rod asked.
“I don’t think so. He was only bringing in a couple of armloads. We’ve got three cars in the garage, so there’s not room to bring much in at any one time.”
They discussed the rain, the river and the few tidbits of storm-related gossip that had been learned from people at the church shelter until Jorge was inside and holding a hot cup of coffee.
“I’ve got beef stew here,” Mavis announced. “Grab a bowl and help yourself. There’s warm bread wrapped in foil in the pot at the back of the stove.”
“Let’s eat at the dining room table so we have a little room to spread out,” Harriet suggested. The antique dining room set could easily seat ten people and could accommodate twelve without much crowding, so it was definitely more comfortable.
“I’m sure you’re all anxious to hear how it went at the shelter,” Aunt Beth said when the initial feeding frenzy had passed. She proceeded to recite the events from the time she and Jorge told Pat and Lisa the sad news until they left them in Reverend Hafer’s capable hands. There didn’t seem to be any revelations that were useful in solving either of the murders.
“Do they have any idea who could have killed Richard?” Harriet asked.
“If they did, they weren’t telling us,” Aunt Beth said. “And we did ask.”
“More than once,” Jorge added. “According to them, Richard was a hardworking saint with no enemies.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Lauren commented.
“Before
we report on Ronald, I’d like to say thank you for the wonderful stew,” Connie said. “It was a pleasant surprise on a cold, powerless day.”
“It’s an interesting combination of ingredients,” Jorge said. “Was that parsnips I tasted?”
“Yes, it was, along with Italian kale, turnips and a green pepper. I brought the fresh veggies from my house when I came over, and Beth did the same, so I used some of everything we had left,” Mavis explained.
“Well, it’s a very pleasing combination.”
“Now, about Ronald,” Connie went on. “We didn’t learn much from him, either. He says he put his earplugs in and crawled into his sleeping bag and didn’t hear a thing until he was awakened by us with the news about Richard.”
“He says he’d never seen the man before coming to Foggy Point,” Rod added.
“That doesn’t help us much,” Lauren said.
“And probably isn’t true, either,” said Harriet.
“What isn’t true?” Lauren shot back.
“I’m not sure, but I can’t believe they’re all that innocent. We all know Richard wasn’t a prince. And if Ronald was such a saint, what’s he doing living in a homeless camp?”
“Now, honey,” Mavis said. “We all know that simply having poor judgment where money is concerned doesn’t make a person a criminal.”
“We were talking earlier, and Harriet and I both noticed an exchange between Richard and Owen, the truck driver. There was definitely bad blood between that pair,” Lauren said.
“Ronald was worried about his safety,” Connie said. “He thinks the killer was targeting middle-aged men at the homeless camp and figured Richard was killed because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That gets back to our ‘stranger in the woods’ theory,” Harriet said. “If it isn’t the truck driver then the only option left is some unknown person hiding in the woods.”
“That conclusion assumes we’ve eliminated all the women,” Aunt Beth pointed out. “Joyce, Brandy, Kate and, for that matter, Pat and Lisa, were all there at the critical time.”
“Kate was with us,” Harriet reminded her. “We were in the parking lot when Richard was killed.”
“Joyce was cleaning up the common area,” Beth conceded. “Anyway, she’s so small I have a hard time seeing her kill a guy as big as Richard. But she was out of our sight, so she has to remain a suspect.”
“Same with Brandy,” Harriet said. “She was out of sight, and I could definitely picture her chunking a rock into someone’s head.”
“And crazy people have that superhuman strength thing going on, too.” Lauren observed.
“That what?” Harriet said.
“You know. You always read stories about crazy people summoning superhuman strength and breaking out of the loony bin.”
“In the grocery store gossip rags, maybe,” Harriet said. “I don’t think that happens in real life.”
“Still, I think she could have done it.” Lauren said as she readjusted Carter’s position, the little dog having returned to her lap.
“I agree. Not the strength part. I just agree she could have done it.”
“She gets extra points for being in the same vicinity, too,” Aunt Beth said. “Owen was working on his truck, but did any one of us actually see him?”
“The restroom blocked our view of the truck,” Harriet told her.
“Same for us,” Beth said. “We were behind the building, so we couldn’t see anything.”
“He would have had to go through the woods to get back there without any of us or Joyce seeing him.” Lauren observed.
“But again, there’s no reason he couldn’t have done it. We don’t know how many trails cut through the woods in that park. I’m willing to bet there’s more than one.”
“We don’t know enough about these people to figure anything out,” Aunt Beth decided.
“I made some chocolate chip cookies,” Mavis said. “Would anyone care for some dessert?”
The phone rang, and Harriet went into the living room to answer it.
“Hello?” She listened while Carla spoke. “Wow. Did they expand on that?” She twisted the coiled cord around her finger. “Good work. See what else you can find out.”
She then related the events at the homeless camp.
“I’m glad I wasn’t there with Wendy,” Carla said, “even if that did mean we were here all day with the witch. Aiden went to the clinic, so he wasn’t here to rein her in. It was a nightmare, but nothing compared to finding a dead guy.”
“I’m going to try to come to the clinic and see Scooter tomorrow,” Harriet said. “Maybe I’ll have a chance to see him and find out what’s really going on.”
“Good luck with that,” Carla said. “Uh-oh, gotta go, she’s calling for me again.”
Lauren was standing in front of the fireplace when Harriet hung up.
“So?” she demanded.
“Let’s go back with the others—Aunt Beth and Mavis and Connie need to hear this. That was Carla,” Harriet said when they’d rejoined the others.
Mavis slid a cookie on a napkin in front of her.
“She had a bombshell to report. She said she was listening to Aiden and Michelle while they were eating breakfast this morning. He said he believed she was just trying to scam him into giving her more money, which their mom had explicitly said not to do, and unless she could produce evidence, he didn’t believe anything she said.
“Carla said she heard rustling noises and then what sounded like the turning of pages. At any rate, they were silent for a few minutes. Then Michelle said ‘Read right here,’ and then she heard Aiden suck in his breath. Then he said, ‘So, it’s true. Our mother was a murderer.’
“She thinks he stormed out at that point. She heard the door slam, and then Michelle mumbled something, but Carla couldn’t make it out.”
“Wow,” said Lauren. “That’s a bombshell, all right.”
Harriet picked up her cookie and took a bite. For once, her aunt didn’t make a comment. Beth and Mavis were looking at each other.
“Clearly, there’s a story here,” Lauren observed.
“I suppose we’re going to have to tell them,” Mavis said to Beth.
“Tell us what?” Harriet asked, looking first at one then the other.
“Many years ago…” Aunt Beth began.
“…While they still lived in France…” Mavis added.
“…Aiden’s mother was involved in a car accident,” Beth continued. “It was dark and raining…”
“…The visibility was nonexistent…” Mavis said.
“…And a girl ran out into the street. She was running away from her controlling boyfriend and darted out in front of Avanell without warning.”
“The police didn’t cite her or anything,” Mavis noted.
“The girl suffered a fatal head injury but was not taken off life support for a long, agonizing month.”
“Diós mio,” Connie said. “I never knew.”
“Avanell was trying to put it behind her. That’s why they moved to America—to try to get a fresh start. But she was haunted by it,” Aunt Beth said.
Mavis took up the story.
“It didn’t help that the family sued Avanell in the French equivalent to our civil court. They were in total denial that their daughter was in an abusive relationship. The suit was found to be without merit, but they appealed and dragged things out for years—long after Avanell came here. She kept having to go back and relive it.”
“That’s horrible,” Harriet said.
“She felt terrible, even though there was nothing she could have done,” Beth said. “There were witnesses who testified at her various proceedings that she couldn’t have done anything. I think they were really the only thing that got her through it. That and Aiden—she had him after they came here, and with a new baby, she couldn’t dwell on things too much.”
“It’s also why she was always giving money to charities that provide services t
o troubled girls,” Mavis added.
“That’s a sad story, but what does that have to do with Aiden?” Lauren asked.
“Come on,” Harriet said. “You can imagine what Michelle is doing with this. She’s probably telling him that with both his mother and his uncle being killers, he’s doomed. That’s why she’s suggesting he go back to Africa. She’s probably telling him he needs to go to keep us all safe from him.”
“And since he’s not going to be here, why does he need a house or money,” Mavis finished the scenario for her.
“She’s a real piece of work, that girl,” Jorge said. “Her parents took her to counselors, you know. It just didn’t seem to help.”
“Poor Aiden,” Harriet said. “I’ve got to go see him tomorrow.”
“You better wear your armor,” Jorge said. “The boy is stubborn. If he believes what la diabla said, he will be hard to reason with.”
“Carla said she seemed to be showing him something,” Harriet reminded them.
“I wonder what it was.” Lauren said.
“She said something about Michelle doing a craft project in the nursery the other day,” Harriet remembered. “I’ll bet she phonied up something. She worked in the nursery because she knew Aiden had given use of the room over to Carla, so he wasn’t likely to happen on her creating the fake.”
“What a witch,” Lauren said.
“Always has been difficult,” Mavis concurred.
“We better get back to our house,” Rod announced. “We need to turn the generator on again to run the freezer and the water heater. What are the plans for tomorrow?”
“I’m going to the clinic to see Scooter and to try to talk some sense into Aiden,” Harriet said. “Then I’d like to go to back to the homeless camp and look around. There has to be something we’re missing.”
“Jorge and I told Reverend Hafer we would come manage lunch at the shelter to give him and his wife a break,” Beth said.
“Many people are willing to work for their food, but unfortunately, most don’t have experience in a commercial-sized kitchen,” Jorge added.
“Let us know if we can do anything to help,” Connie said.
“There is one thing,” Lauren said. “We haven’t heard from Sarah. She’s at her boyfriend’s place on Miller Hill.”
The Quilt Before the Storm Page 15
