The Quilt Before the Storm

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The Quilt Before the Storm Page 19

by Arlene Sachitano


  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” Jane said. “My job is to find out who killed your husband and bring him or her to justice. Sometimes that means I have to ask questions that make people uncomfortable. I mean no offense.”

  “I’m sure no offense is taken,” Aunt Beth said. “Pat, Detective Morse is staying here with us until the water recedes. She’s not here as a police officer tonight.”

  “May I fix you something to drink?” Jorge asked. “We have coffee, tea and hot chocolate as well as sodas and water.”

  He took drink orders and went back to the kitchen accompanied by Tom.

  “Will you be holding a memorial service?” Harriet asked Pat.

  “I haven’t thought about that yet.” Tears started coursing down her cheeks. “I wish Marjory was here,” she said. “She’d know what to do.”

  “Should of thought about that before she sold her sister down the river,” Lauren whispered to Harriet.

  “Is there anything we can do for you?” Mavis asked. “Can we call anyone for you? We have access to a satellite phone.”

  “There isn’t anyone to call,” Pat sobbed. “Richard and Lisa are all I have, and now Marjory won’t talk to us, either.”

  “That’s on you, Mother,” Lisa said, speaking for the first time since she’d arrived. “I told you and Daddy you should have told Aunt Marjory the truth and thrown yourself on her mercy, but no, you had to try to be all tricky and cheat her out of Gramma’s money.”

  An awkward silence followed.

  “I’m so sorry,” Pat said finally, looking at Lisa. “I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Would you like to talk about it?” Aunt Beth said softly.

  “I can’t,” Pat said, looking at each of them in turn. She started crying again. Her normally pink cheeks were turning a purple-red. Harriet was thankful Jorge and Tom were lingering in the kitchen and Jane had chosen to join them there.

  “Mom,” Lisa said, raising her voice. “These people might be able to help us fix things with Aunt Marjory. Come on—it’s our only chance.”

  “It might help,” Mavis coaxed.

  Pat continued crying. Harriet held out a box of tissues, and she took several, blowing her nose noisily. She shuddered and took a deep breath.

  “Richard was about to go to jail,” she said finally.

  Harriet looked at her aunt, but Beth was waiting patiently for Pat to continue. Lauren made the circular motion with her forefinger that meant “get on with it.” She kept her hand beside her leg so only Harriet could see it.

  “If we could come up with more money, Richard could buy back time,” Pat finally continued.

  “What?” Lauren sounded confused.

  “It’s because of the kind of crime,” Lisa explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “Dad took other people’s money. He pled guilty to avoid a trial, and the feds said if he could pay any of it back, they would reduce his time.”

  “So if I rob a bank, but they get the money back, I do less time?” Lauren asked.

  Harriet swatted at her and put a finger to her lips, motioning for her to hush.

  “Was he trying to get other people to give him money?” she asked Pat.

  “No! He wanted to get my inheritance from Marjory, and then we were going to leave.”

  “Mom,” Lisa said. “Tell the truth.”

  Pat went through her sighing and sagging and crying and nose-blowing again.

  “Richard was trying to get my inheritance, but Lisa and I were going to tell Marjory what he was doing and beg for her mercy. We were planning on sending Richard to the store, and then while he was gone, I was going to ask Marjory if Lisa and I could live with her. Richard sold the house, our house, to buy time. He had it sold before he even talked to me about it.”

  “How could he do that?” Harriet asked. “He didn’t forge your signature, did he?”

  “No, it turns out I was never on the title.”

  Mavis gave a little gasp.

  “When he started making money,” Pat continued, “he bought a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood for me and Lisa, as a surprise. He said he was going to have my name put on the title after he gave it to me, but we got busy moving and then somehow never got around to it. He already had it sold before he told me about going to jail. He’d been hoping he could raise enough money that he wouldn’t have to do any time, but that was foolishness. He could have sold ten houses, and he still couldn’t have paid all the money back.”

  “Was he embezzling from his company?” Harriet asked.

  “Worse,” Lisa said.

  “What could be worse than that?” Lauren asked.

  “It was investment fraud,” Pat said.

  “Like a Ponzi scheme?” Mavis asked.

  “Exactly like that,” Pat said. “This is so embarrassing.” She put her hands over her face.

  Mavis went over and put her arms around the sobbing woman.

  “You’ll get through this,” she soothed. “You don’t have to solve it all right now. Let’s let it rest for tonight. We’ll eat a nice dinner, and then everyone can get a good night’s sleep, and you can start making a plan tomorrow.”

  “I’ll show you where the bathroom is. You two can freshen up,” Aunt Beth said and led them past the half-bath and on upstairs to the main bathroom.

  “I call Harriet,” Lauren stated when Aunt Beth came back down alone.

  “What?” Harriet said.

  “I call you—as a roommate. Someone has to give up their room when your aunt invites those two to stay here. It’s probably going to be me, so I choose you to double up with. Don’t worry—there are two more air mattresses upstairs. You have the biggest room, the chimney passes through your bedroom wall, so your room is the warmest and you have your own bathroom so I don’t have to share with those two.”

  Harriet looked at Aunt Beth.

  “We can’t make her go back to the shelter given the shape she’s in,” her aunt said.

  “She could be the murderer,” Harriet protested. “For all we know, she just bought herself a big insurance pay-out.”

  Aunt Beth’s shoulders sagged.

  “Didn’t think of that, did you?”

  “She had no reason to kill the other guy,” Mavis said.

  “She might be a copycat killer,” argued Lauren. “Someone else killed Duane, and Pat decided to go for the insurance money by killing Richard and making it look like the first guy did it.”

  “Sounds a little far-fetched,” Mavis said.

  “I hope so,” Harriet said.

  “Everyone ready for dinner?” Jorge asked as he came into the living room. “We’ve got burgers and fries ready in the kitchen. Everyone can come fill their plates.”

  Pat and Lisa came back downstairs and joined everyone in the kitchen. Jorge was a master of presentation. He had cut tree-shaped slices of cheddar cheese using one of Harriet’s cookie cutters and placed them on the burgers. Detective Morse had cooked the semi-frozen French fries in two large iron skillets. Tom had put together a plate of sliced tomato, lettuce, and pickles and set out ketchup and mustard.

  “Oh, this looks lovely,” Pat said as she assembled her burger on her plate.

  “We haven’t had a normal meal in days,” Lisa said.

  “Eat your fill, chiquita,” Jorge said. “We have plenty.”

  Pat and Lisa filled their plates first, followed by Mavis and Beth. When they were safely in the dining room, Harriet filled the detective in on what had been revealed.

  “I’d be surprised if it turns out Pat killed her husband, but you never know,” Morse said. “I wish we knew more about the first vic.”

  “I might have something,” Harriet said, and explained about Duane’s cell phone.

  “Given the circumstances, I’m going to overlook the fact that you tampered with evidence, including removing it from the scene. Next time a murder happens anywhere in this county, stay away from it. Can you promise me that?”

  Harriet retrieved the phone and handed
it to Morse.

  “I promise, never again,” she said.

  “I believe you mean that—at the moment, anyway. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you’re probably right about the other campers destroying evidence. If you hadn’t taken the phone when you spotted it, who knows where it would be now.”

  “The young alcoholic at the camp had taken Duane’s quilt at some point,” Harriet said. “And someone else had taken one of the spare quilts we’d given Joyce and covered Duane’s body with it. When Tom and I were there, right after they found Duane, they all claimed they either hadn’t been in the men’s room or they had only taken a quick look, but clearly someone covered Duane. I can’t imagine him taking a spare quilt when he had his own new one in his usual sleeping space.”

  “We better join the group before they come looking for us,” Lauren suggested. Harriet, Tom and Jane followed her to the dining room.

  Dinner was a strained affair. Harriet racked her brain for a topic that didn’t relate to the house Pat no longer had, the money that had evaporated or Pat’s murdered husband.

  “Pat, do you quilt like your sister?” she finally asked.

  “No, that was always Marjory’s thing. I tried when we were young, but my efforts were never as good as hers. My points weren’t sharp enough, my stitches weren’t small enough, my color combinations weren’t as pleasing…” She sighed.

  Pat sighed a lot, Harriet noticed. She really had the long-suffering routine down.

  “Mom knits really well, though,” Lisa said when the silence had stretched to the breaking point.

  “What sort of things do you knit?” Mavis asked.

  It turned out Lisa was telling the truth. A lively discussion of knitting ensued, with Pat pulling an intricate green lace scarf from her purse as a show-and-tell.

  Tom and Jorge took the dogs out for a walk while Jane Morse and Harriet cleared the table and began washing the dishes.

  “What do you know about the trucker couple?” Morse asked. “I interviewed them at the church today, but they didn’t have much to say. I was a little surprised.”

  “Why?”

  “They seem pretty sharp, and yet, they ate and slept with the homeless folk for several days without seeing or hearing anything? I find that hard to believe. It makes me wonder what they’re hiding.”

  “I can answer that,” Harriet said. “They may have other secrets as well, but the big one is that they are homeless themselves. Kate was embarrassed and didn’t want anyone to know. They lost all their money, their business and their house in a Ponzi scheme, which considering this evening’s revelation might move them to the top of the suspect list in Richard’s death.”

  “Did they say who their fund manager was?”

  “I certainly would have told you if she’d said anything like that. I figured it was a coincidence that both Kate and Pat had lost all their money. Kate said they lived in Sequim when they had their business.”

  “I’m definitely going to be talking to them again tomorrow,” Morse said.

  “Kate was with Lauren, Tom and I in the parking lot when Richard was killed. Owen was working on their truck. I suppose he could have circled around the camp and approached from the back side. And that still leaves Duane. Isn’t it more likely the same person killed both of them?”

  “Maybe there’s a connection between Duane and Richard we haven’t discovered yet,” Morse said.

  “But Pat said they were coming to Foggy Point to try to get Marjory’s money. She and Lisa didn’t say anything about meeting a homeless man or anyone else.”

  “Sounds like Richard kept a lot of secrets from those two. He may have seen an opportunity to take care of business with Duane and collect money from Marjory at the same time.”

  “They made such a mess of trying to get Marjory’s money it’s hard to believe he could have carried off Duane’s killing without leaving a shred of evidence behind.”

  “And yet he defrauded how many people out of how much money?” Morse asked.

  “Point taken.”

  Tom came into the kitchen from the garage, a wet Curly held in one hand, her leash in the other.

  “I was starting to think you were trying to avoid me,” he said.

  Detective Morse excused herself with a wink at Harriet and went into the bathroom, giving them a little privacy.

  “Jane and I were just washing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. Besides, it was getting a little crowded in there.”

  “I know what you mean. It’s a struggle to come up with things to talk about that don’t set Pat off on a crying jag.” He took Harriet’s hand and pulled her toward him as he spoke.

  “I appreciate the fact that you’re here.”

  “I wish we could be alone, but I’ll take what I can get, even if I have to dangle off your roof to get it.”

  “Thank you for fixing my gutter,” Harriet could feel the heat in her face. “How can I ever repay you?”

  “I’m sure we’ll think of something.” He leaned in for a quick kiss. “But not while you have a house full of people, and anyway, I need to go back to the Renfros to check on them. By the way, I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, but I heard on the truck radio when I was driving over here that they expect the Muckleshoot to go down below bridge level overnight. You want to go for a ride in the morning and check it out?”

  “What time?”

  “Eight?” he suggested and kissed her again.

  “I’d love to go,” she said with a smile.

  Tom took his jacket from the kitchen closet and left through the studio.

  “I came to see if you two had drowned in the soapy water,” Lauren said.

  Jane came back into the kitchen as if on cue.

  “And I’m supposed to make a pot of decaf coffee,” Lauren added.

  She handed the empty coffee pot to Jane to fill with water while she filled the percolator basket with coffee grounds.

  “Good thing your aunt saved this old relic,” she said as she put the assembled percolator on the stove burner and turned the gas on, lighting it with a match. “Before you ask, your aunt did, indeed, ask Pat and Lisa to join our slumber party, and Jorge is leaving after coffee to take Pat to fetch their car from the church parking lot.”

  “I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had enough group drama for one day.” Harriet said. “Let’s deliver the coffee then get Lauren’s bed set up in the dormitory formerly known as my bedroom. My aunt and Mavis can get Pat and Lisa settled.”

  Chapter 22

  “Harriet had both coffee and hot water ready when Tom arrived the next morning.

  “I wasn’t sure if you wanted coffee or tea,” she said.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said and handed her a warm foil-wrapped package.

  “You didn’t, either.” She smiled.

  “I think we both know I didn’t. Mrs. Renfro sent this coffee cake over for you and your guests.”

  “We wouldn’t want to offend Mrs. Renfro.”

  She unwrapped one end of the package and sliced two pieces from the loaf then rewrapped it before putting the cake on paper napkins. Tom poured himself a cup of coffee from the percolator and sat down at the kitchen table while Harriet prepared her tea.

  “Where are your aunt and Mavis? I can’t believe either one of them sleeps in,” he said.

  “They left just before you got here. Jorge also heard about the bridge and is anxious to get to his restaurant.”

  “Where does he live, anyway?”

  “He has property somewhere that he’s been building a house on for years, but he lives in an apartment over the restaurant. Aunt Beth and Mavis are going to help him clean out his refrigerators.”

  “They probably were happy for the opportunity to get out of here,” Tom said. “Not that you aren’t a gracious hostess or anything.”

  “I’m sure they were, for a lot of reasons. They’re being very supportive of Pat and Lisa, but I know it’s taking a toll on them. Pl
us, this whole storm thing is hard on everyone. And all of us are used to living by ourselves. We spend a lot of time together, but that’s not the same as living together twenty-four-seven.” Harriet sipped her tea.

  “On the other hand, I, for one, feel a little better knowing none of you are living alone right now with a murderer running loose in the community.”

  “I’m hoping the return of Detective Morse will take care of that. She’s out detecting as we speak.”

  “Has she had a breakthrough in the case?”

  “If she has, she didn’t tell me about it. It would help if we knew what the connection was between Duane and Richard. Assuming there is one.”

  “Have you asked Joyce or Ronald or Brandy?”

  “Now that you mention it, no. When Duane died, we were focused on making sure Ronald wasn’t having a heart attack.”

  “And then when Richard died, Brandy was hysterical, so again we didn’t talk about the deaths, I never talked to any of the homeless people about it, did you?”

  “Let’s go check out Marjory’s shop and, assuming we’re going to have to clean the basement out, we can go get Joyce and Ronald to help us. It would be natural to talk about what happened, don’t you think?”

  “Do you have the key?” Tom asked.

  “No, we’ll have to go by Aiden’s and get the key from Carla. She might even want to come help us. Let me go call her.”

  Carla answered on the first ring, and Harriet explained her plan. Carla jumped at the chance and volunteered to bring the key and meet them at the shop in half an hour.

  “Mr. R. has a ham radio set in his basement,” Tom said as they made the short drive to town. Harriet had suggested taking her car, which held eight people and had four-wheel drive. “He’s been communicating with the outside world. He said the governor has arranged for emergency supplies to be brought in by helicopter this afternoon. I guess they’re bringing cases of bottled water and canned food. And he said they’re working on a patch to reconnect the power at the slide.”

  “That would be so nice. We haven’t had it as bad as some people, but still, I miss my power.”

 

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