The Quilt Before the Storm

by Arlene Sachitano

  “You definitely need to tell the detective.”

  “If we do that, she’ll take us in for questioning. She may even hold us for a few days, insuring that we’ll miss our next load, and then we’ll have to get our lawyer involved, which will cost us even more of the money we no longer have,” Kate argued. “Please.”

  “We just want someone to know that Richard has a lot of enemies besides us and to point the police in the right direction,” Owen said.

  “I’m really not comfortable with this,” Harriet admitted.

  “But you won’t tell anyone until we’re out of town, will you?” Kate’s tone was pleading.

  “I can’t make any promises.”

  “I guess we’ll just have to trust you to do the right thing.” Owen took his wife’s hand and led her back to the truck.

  Harriet reached into her car to get her purse and noticed Ronald had left his coat when they’d dropped him at the church shelter. She picked it up and brought it into the house, laying it over the back of a kitchen chair.

  “So, what was that all about?” Lauren asked.

  “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  Harriet was trying to decide how much, if any, of what Kate and Owen had told her to share when the kitchen lights blazed to life and the clocks on the stove, microwave, and electric coffeemaker all began blinking.

  “Oh, Thank you God,” Lauren said.

  Harriet could hear the television blaring upstairs and the clock radio in her room beeping rhythmically.

  “Help me reset stuff,” she said to Lauren.

  “I’ll start at the top.” Lauren headed for the stairs.

  Harriet flipped light switches and set the clocks in the kitchen before moving to the dining and living rooms. The dishwasher started filling with water. She reached over and twisted the dial to the off position.

  “I gave an open invitation to everyone who helped clean things up at the quilt store to come for dinner two hours after the power came back on,” she called.

  “Have fun with that,” Lauren called back.

  “Oh, come on, roomie. You’re not going to bail on me now, are you?”

  “I’ve got to go check out my place. I think I turned everything off, but I want to make sure the heat comes back on.”

  “What if I go with you, and we stop by Jorge’s to talk to Aunt Beth and Mavis about dinner then go to the store if we need to.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes as she came back downstairs.

  “Okay, fine, but you owe me.” She picked up Carter and tucked him into her sweatshirt.

  Mavis, Aunt Beth and Jorge were sitting at one of the tables in Tico’s Tacos when Lauren and Harriet came arrived.

  “How did your clean-up project go?” Harriet asked.

  “Jorge’s fresh produce was pretty ugly, but otherwise, his refrigerators weren’t too bad,” Aunt Beth reported. “We’re fortunate, I guess, that our storms come during the coldest part of the year.”

  “It was about forty-five degrees in here until the power came on,” Mavis said. “The refrigerators have to be about the same.”

  “So, how do we all feel about a party?” Harriet asked.

  “Oh, honey,” Aunt Beth said. “I’m ready to take Curly and go back to my little house.”

  “Too late,” Lauren said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Harriet invited everyone over to her house for dinner two hours after the power came back on, which by my calculations was twenty minutes ago.” She smirked at Harriet.

  “Everyone who?” Mavis asked.

  “Just Joyce and Brandy and Ronald,” Harriet said.

  “And Tom and Pat and Lisa,” Lauren added. “And I assume Detective Morse, since she’s got to come back to get her stuff anyway.”

  “Well, if you’re going to do that then we should call Robin and Connie and Carla to see if they want to come over, too.”

  “What do you want to cook?” Jorge asked.

  “I’ve got some frozen chicken breasts I’m sure need to be used,” Mavis offered.

  “Me, too,” Aunt Beth said. “We hit the same sale last week at the supermarket.”

  “I’ve got plenty of potatoes,” Jorge said. “We could do mashed potatoes and gravy and fried chicken.”

  “I’ve got green beans in my freezer,” Harriet said.

  “And we can make some baking powder biscuits,” Mavis said thoughtfully. “I think I’ve got some canned cherries at my place, too. We could throw together a couple of pies.”

  “We better get moving if we’re going to do all that in an hour and a half,” Lauren advised.

  “We can call the others from here,” Jorge said. “I tried my cell phone, but they aren’t working yet. I suppose they’ll have to reset circuits or something.”

  “Lauren and I are going to her house, and then we can go by the homeless camp to pick up Joyce and Brandy,” Harriet said. “We won’t be able to get Ronald, because we’re in Lauren’s car.”

  “We can go pick him up,” Jorge volunteered.

  Joyce was waiting in the common area at the camp. She had her arm looped through Brandy’s, and the younger woman was struggling to get free.

  “Let me go,” she said, still sounding inebriated. “I need Duane’s money. We need to buy some brandy.”

  “Duane didn’t have any money, and we are certainly not going to buy you any brandy in any case,” Joyce said.

  “Come on,” Harriet said and went to her other side, putting her arm through Brandy’s and hauling her to her feet. We’ve got hot food, bright lights and a fully functioning furnace. And if you two want, you’re welcome to use the showers at my place.”

  “Do you have bubble bath?” Brandy asked as Joyce turned her around and pushed her toward the parking lot. Brandy dragged her feet.

  “Yes, I have bubble bath,” Harriet said.

  Brandy straightened her jacket and pulled her arms free.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll go anywhere for a bubble bath.”

  Jorge arrived with Mavis, Aunt Beth and Ronald just as Harriet pulled into the garage with her guests.

  “Come on,” she said to Brandy. “I’ll show you where the bathtub is.” She led her up the stairs and opened the door to the bathroom. “Let me get you some towels. If you want, I can run your clothes through the washer and dryer while you soak.”

  Brandy gave her the first genuine smile she’d seen on the girl.

  “Let me get you a bathrobe,” Harriet offered.

  She opened the bathroom closet and pulled out a white velour robe with the name of an expensive hotel embroidered on the chest. “Here’s the shampoo and bubble bath, and there’s a hair dryer under the sink.”

  Brandy stared at the robe, almost as if she were afraid to touch it.

  “Here, take it, it won’t bite.”

  “I’ve seen people on TV wearing these kinds of robes, but I didn’t think they were real.”

  “What can I say, I’ve traveled a lot. Set your clothes outside the door, and I’ll pick them up in a few minutes and put them in the wash.”

  She went into her room and waited until Brandy had slid her bundle out into the hall and she heard the splash of water filling the tub.

  Jane Morse had joined the group while Harriet was upstairs.

  “I came to pick up my overnight things.”

  “You have to stay for dinner,” Harriet said. “We’re having a power’s-back celebration.”

  Morse scanned the room, her eyes resting briefly on Joyce and then Ronald and Pat and Lisa in turn.

  “Sure, I’d love to,” she said.

  “I called Carla,” Aunt Beth told them. “She and Wendy will be over as soon as she lays out the dinner she prepared for Michelle and Aiden. She said they weren’t home.”

  “Aiden’s probably at the clinic, but it’s hard to imagine where Michelle went,” Harriet said.

  “I heard there was a party going on,” Tom said as
he entered the crowded kitchen.

  “You came to the right place,” Jorge told him. “Now I’m going to put you to work. There are some folding chairs along the wall in the garage. Can you bring them into the dining room?”

  “Harriet, can you bring one of your folding tables from the studio and set it up in the dining room?” Aunt Beth asked. “Move the main table toward the window and you’ll have space.”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to help.” Lauren raised her eyebrows and grinned. “You know you were going to ask me anyway.”

  Ronald and Joyce were sitting in the dining room when Harriet backed in carrying her end of the table.

  “What’s this I hear about Duane giving Brandy money?” Ronald asked in a hushed tone.

  Harriet cleared her throat loudly. He jumped up,

  “Here, let me help you with that.” He took her end of the table. “We really appreciate you inviting us to your home,” he added as he unfolded the table legs and locked them into position.

  More people arrived, and Harriet and Aunt Beth directed the setup while Jorge and Mavis cooked.

  “I think we’re ready to eat,” Jorge said finally, and Harriet carried the announcement to the living room, studio and front entry, encouraging people to assemble in the dining room.

  “Where’s Brandy?” Joyce asked, her brow furrowed.

  “Surely, she’s not still in the bathtub,” Connie said.

  “I’ll go check,” Harriet said and went to the garage to get Brandy’s clothes from the dryer. She headed upstairs but found the bathroom door open and the light off. The used towels were neatly folded on the edge of the tub.

  A quick door-to-door check turned up Brandy—asleep on Harriet’s bed. Her hair was splayed on the pillow, the robe demurely covering all but her hands and feet. She looked so innocent and peaceful, Harriet decided to let her be. She set the clean clothes on the end of the bed.

  “Brandy decided to take a nap in lieu of dinner,” she reported when she rejoined the group.

  “Is she okay?” Joyce asked.

  “She looks fine,” Harriet said. “She’s just sleeping.”

  “This is delicious,” Tom said. “My compliments to the chef.”

  Everyone raised their glass and clinked it with whomever they could reach. People ate and drank and made idle conversation until the main dinner was through.

  “The pies aren’t quite cool enough,” Mavis announced. “Perhaps we can have coffee and tea, and I’ll put them in the garage to cool.”

  Harriet lingered in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher and putting food in the refrigerator. Lauren and Tom drifted in to help.

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren said as she set Carter on the floor next to the heater vent. “I couldn’t stomach Pat playing the grieving widow any longer.”

  “I’m sure she is grieving,” Harriet said. “Just because she was awful to her sister doesn’t mean she didn’t love her jerk of a husband.”

  “Whoa, when did you decide Richard was a jerk?” Lauren asked. “He was a jerk, but you’re usually the last one to call a spade a spade.”

  “When Kate and Owen told me they were actually homeless. The truck they’re driving belongs to a relative. They lost everything in a Ponzi scheme, and Richard was the guy who sucked them into it.”

  “Don’t you think that’s something I need to know about,” Detective Morse said. No one had heard her come into the kitchen.

  “I haven’t had a chance to say anything about it to anyone until now.” Harriet said. “And might I point out that our cell phones still don’t work? In point of fact, I was asked not to share that information, and I told Owen and Kate I couldn’t promise that.”

  “Where are they, anyway?” Lauren asked.

  “They said they just wanted to get out of town. I suppose they’re parked somewhere near the slide. They swore they had nothing to do with Richard’s death. And they didn’t really want to cross paths with Pat and Lisa.”

  “At least they’re telling the same story,” Tom said. “They all agree Richard was a con man.”

  “That doesn’t help us figure out if Owen killed Richard,” Detective Morse said. “It just corroborates the fact they had good reason to kill him.”

  “You’re welcome to spend the night again, if you want,” Harriet told her.

  “I may take you up on that,” Jane said. “Let’s see how long everyone else stays. I better go mingle some more, see what else someone might have forgotten to tell me.”

  She turned and left the kitchen.

  “Hey,” Lauren said, “I’ve got three bars of power on my phone.”

  “I’m going to go check on Brandy,” Harriet said when she had the dishwasher as full as possible.

  Brandy was no longer on Harriet’s bed. The robe was puddled on the floor, and her fingerless gloves lay on the rumpled bed. Harriet noticed the list of numbers she’d copied from Duane’s phone sitting on her nightstand. She picked it up along with the phone charger and took them downstairs.

  “I guess she got up,” Harriet said. “She must have come down when we were in the dining room.”

  “That’s weird,” Lauren said. “How could she have gotten past us?”

  “There are fifteen or twenty people here,” Tom said. “And cleaned up she probably doesn’t look the same.”

  “Whatever,” Lauren said.

  “I’ll go back out and find her in a minute,” Harriet said. “But now that we have phone service again, I want to try some of these numbers I copied off of Duane’s phone. They looked like phone numbers, let’s see if they are.”

  She plugged her cell phone into the outlet by the kitchen table then dialed the first set of numbers. An answering machine picked up, but it only identified that she’d reached the number she’d dialed.

  “It’s a telephone number, anyway,” she said and began dialing the next one. She pressed the speaker button on her phone.

  “You have some nerve calling here,” shouted a man’s voice when the signal connected. “If I find you before the police do, you’re a dead man.”

  Harriet tried to interrupt, but the connection went dead.

  “You need to tell Detective Morse,” Tom said.

  “I gave her the phone almost as soon as I found it. They’ve probably already called all these numbers and his contacts with their sat-phone.”

  “Try the next one,” Lauren said. “Someone semi-normal is bound to answer one of these.”

  The next number had a “no longer in service” message.

  “Okay, one more, and then I’m going to go look for Brandy.”

  She dialed, and the sound of the ring was echoed from somewhere in the kitchen. She flipped off the speakerphone, and there was no doubt—a phone was ringing in the kitchen.

  Tom and Lauren went for Ronald’s coat at the same time. Lauren got there first, pulling a ringing cell phone from the side pocket. She looked at the screen and confirmed that, indeed, it was Harriet’s phone that was calling Ronald.

  “So much for Ronald’s claim that he’d never met Duane before.” Harriet said. “I don’t know what this list is, but Ronald’s on it, which has to mean they knew each other before they started living in the homeless camp.”

  “Or maybe they charged their phones when they went to town and exchanged contact information,” Lauren said.

  “I’m with Harriet,” Tom said. “Why would they pay a cell phone bill if they couldn’t afford a roof over their head?”

  “Yeah, I always thought that whole fancy-tent routine was a little suspicious, too.” Lauren said.

  “Let’s go find Ronald and ask him,” Harriet suggested.

  She got up and went into the dining room, followed by Tom and Lauren. Ronald was nowhere in evidence. Tom checked the living room while Lauren went to the studio.

  “I didn’t see him anywhere,” Lauren said. “And ditto for Brandy.”

  Tom approached them and spoke quietly.

  “Neither one of them is in the living roo
m, but Connie’s husband said he heard Ronald asking Joyce about Brandy’s insistence that Duane had money hidden in the forest. He said Ronald left the room shortly after that.”

  “You don’t suppose Ronald took Brandy to look for the money, do you?” Harriet asked.

  “Considering how long a walk it would be, I’d say that’s a no,” Lauren said.

  “We need to tell Morse,” Harriet said.

  “Tell me what?” Morse said. “Do you have more information you’ve failed to report?”

  “No, we just noticed that Brandy and Ronald are both missing,” Harriet told her.

  “Yeah, right after someone heard Ronald asking Joyce about the hidden money Brandy keeps saying Duane had,” Lauren added.

  “Hidden money? What hidden money?”

  “We don’t know if there is any hidden money, but Brandy insisted Duane gave her money from a stash he had hidden,” Harriet explained. “And Joyce did say Brandy tends to wander in the woods.”

  “They don’t have a car,” Tom said.

  “But they are both missing,” Harriet countered.

  “I can go check in the park, but it’s a big place,” Morse said and pulled out her phone. “I’ll see if any other officers can help.”

  She dialed, spoke briefly then dialed another number, repeating the story.

  “The patrol officers are dealing with an injury accident downtown,” she said.

  “Do you want us to go with you?” Harriet asked.

  “No, you stay here with your guests. If Brandy and Ronald are on foot, I should catch up to them pretty quickly.”

  “Okay,” Harriet said. “You have my number, and our cell phones are working again, so let us know when you find out anything.”

  Detective Morse put on her all-weather coat, grabbed her purse and went out into the night. She came storming back in, moments later. She was talking on her cell phone as she entered the kitchen.

  “They took my car!” she shouted. “My lousy fire station Jeep. Gone.” She threw her purse onto a kitchen chair, punched a button on her phone and shoved it into her pants pocket.

  “I could drive you,” Harriet offered.

  Morse raked her fingers through her hair as she paced across the kitchen. She stopped and stared at the ceiling, taking a deep breath then letting it out in a rush.