“I asked when I was at the police station yesterday. Morse has been assigned to the cold case squad.”
“Foggy Point PD has a cold case squad?” Lauren asked.
“They didn’t until Morse was assigned to start one,” Robin explained. “She hasn’t been feeling the love from her fellow detectives since she’s solved the recent murders in town. Add that to her being female and not from here, and you get a bunch of jealous hometown boys who manipulated the situation to their advantage.”
Lauren dropped her phone into her bag.
“She’s on her way and is willing to trade info for whatever tasty treat she’s sure you have waiting for her.”
Mavis looked at Beth.
“What do we have in Harriet’s freezer?”
“We better go look.” Beth headed for the garage; Mavis followed.
Lauren laughed at the confused look that passed between Jessica and Sharon.
“This used to be Beth’s house. Since we meet here so much, she and Mavis and Connie keep a supply of cookies and other treats in the freezer.”
By the time Detective Jane Morse arrived, Connie was spreading cream cheese frosting on a pan of freshly thawed and warmed double chocolate brownies. Morse shrugged out of her coat and let it fall over the back of a chair.
“Before you ask me anything, let me make something clear. No matter how I feel about the other detectives in my department right now, I cannot and will not tell you anything that will compromise their investigation.”
Lauren started to speak, but Morse held her hand up to stop her.
“Let me finish. Anything that is in a public record or anything that I’ve observed that isn’t part of their investigation is fair game. I can also tell you how things will likely play out.”
Beth set a cup of tea at Morse’s place while Connie carried in the pan of brownies and Mavis brought a stack of saucers and fistful of napkins. Detective Morse waited until everyone had a brownie in front of them and she’d taken a bite from her own.
“I’m guessing the first thing you want to know is why Aiden was arrested.” She looked around the table as people nodded. “The medical examiner is classifying the cause of death as undetermined at the moment. He just got here from Seattle this morning.
“You all probably know this, but for those who don’t, our county has a coroner who is also the prosecuting attorney. She called her buddy the medical examiner from King County—he steps in when we have a situation that requires an autopsy. He’s taught our coroner to do a few basic tests. Based on those tests, she concluded Marine’s death was suspicious enough to call for an official autopsy.”
“Can you say what those tests were?” Harriet asked.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I do know that, when she’s attended deaths where I’ve been the primary, she tested algor mortis and checked for rigor mortis and livor mortis. Basically, body temperature, stiffness and blood pooling. These all are helpful in determining time of death and also whether the person died where they are found. I think we can assume one or more of those were not consistent with an overdose death in the time frame we’re talking about.”
She took another bite of her brownie while the group digested what she’d just told them. She followed it with a sip of tea.
“I also happened to see Darcy Lewis logging in evidence she’d collected at the scene. She had a packet of black hairs and what looked like a saliva sample. I can’t ask her, and she didn’t say anything, but she made sure I was able to see what she was checking in. And I heard one of the other crime scene techs say that the detectives asked them to lift fingerprints from every possible surface in that apartment.”
Harriet twisted her napkin into a rope and threaded it through her fingers. Her knuckles turned white, and Aunt Beth reached over and put one hand over hers.
“They can’t have DNA results from the saliva this quick, can they?”
“No. It’s theoretically possible to get it in twenty-four hours, but not in Foggy Point,” Morse agreed. “They probably did a new test they have that can tell them the blood type of the sample if it’s from a secretor. And eighty percent of us are secretors. That means our blood antigens are in all our body fluids.
“If their saliva sample was from a secretor, and the blood type matched Aiden, that may be one of the pieces of evidence they used to get their arrest warrant. Also, where and how much saliva they found would factor into the situation, and that I can’t tell you.”
Lauren sat back in her chair.
“So, if they found his hair and saliva on Marine’s body, it suggests he didn’t just see her sprawled in his living room and call the paramedics.”
“Of course he would have gone to see if she was alive and needed CPR,” Connie told Lauren and glared at her. “He would, wouldn’t he?”
“I didn’t say he did anything wrong,” Lauren shot back. “I’m just saying, if he didn’t tell them he did that, it could make them suspicious.”
Mavis passed the pan of brownies around the table again.
“Let’s not borrow trouble,” she said. “We can imagine all we want, but until we know something for sure, we’ll just make ourselves crazy.”
Harriet sighed and asked Detective Morse, “Can you tell us anything else?”
Morse drank tea and set her mug down.
“I don’t know anything else, but I can tell you he’s unlikely to be allowed bail.”
“But he has ties to our community,” Connie protested.
“And he lived and worked in Africa until last year,” Morse pointed out. “He has contacts in Uganda and who knows where else who might be willing to help him hide. He also has the financial resources to plan and execute an escape plan.”
Harriet swirled the tea remaining in her cup, studying the liquid before downing it.
“If he’s stuck inside, what can we do for him?”
Morse sighed thoughtfully.
“First of all, you need to see what his attorney is doing. If the attorney hires a private investigator, you need to let that person do their job. If Aiden’s defense team doesn’t object to your help, let them know if you do discover anything useful, and keep them informed of what you’re doing. If they don’t want your help, stay out of their way. I know you all get tired of hearing this, but you need to let the professionals do their jobs.
“Now, having said all that, I understand Aiden said he was trying to find a homeless person with an injured dog during the time period in question. Finding them would go a long way toward establishing his alibi.”
Jessica brought the teakettle of hot water from the kitchen and went around the table, refilling teacups.
“We went to the homeless camp for lunch, but they don’t know anyone who has a dog,” she told Morse.
“Not all of our homeless people live in the main camp, as I’m sure Joyce told you. If you want to help, canvass the neighborhoods near the park. See if anyone saw a man with a dog. You can also ask if they noticed Aiden’s car in the area,” Detective Morse suggested.
“Does anyone know who delivers mail in that area?” Aunt Beth asked.
Mavis pressed her lips together thoughtfully.
“I think Jim Park does. When my mail carrier takes a day off, Jim delivers my neighborhood. I think he said his normal area is toward the park. We were on the auction committee together. I can call him in the morning.”
Morse picked up her plate and mug and stood up.
“I better get going. Let me know if you learn anything, and if I hear anything I can share, I’ll let you know.”
Aunt Beth stood up and reached for the detective’s dishes.
“Here, I’ll take those. Thank you for coming and talking to us. We appreciate your support, and we do understand you’re in a delicate position.”
Morse put her coat on.
“The internal politics of the Foggy Point Police Department are what they are, and they will be difficult no matter what you ladies do or don’t do.”
Beth and Mavis walked her to the studio door.
“Okay,” Harriet said when she heard Morse’s car leaving, “we need to find out if Marine’s mother or other family still live in Foggy Point. Maybe they would know who her drug contact is.”
Aunt Beth came back and sat down at the table again.
“I hope you’re not suggesting we talk to a drug dealer.”
Harriet twirled a shred of her napkin.
“If she died of an overdose, don’t you think her dealer is the most likely to have provided the drugs?”
“Only if she died from street drugs,” Lauren answered. “I think we have to consider the possibility that the reason the cops arrested Aiden is because she died from an overdose of some sort of animal medicine. And before you get wound up, I don’t think Aiden killed Marine. I’m just thinking—if someone was trying to set Aiden up, they could have used something a vet would have.”
Robin wrote on her legal pad.
“So, you don’t think Marine broke into Aiden’s.”
“Do we need our flip chart?” Aunt Beth asked. “Never mind, we do need it. Is it still in the studio?”
Harriet nodded, and her aunt retrieved the flip chart and a handful of markers.
“What I’m hearing you say,” Beth said when she had the chart set up on one end of the table, a clean page facing the group, “is there are two possibilities to consider.” She drew a vertical line down the middle of the page. “First, Marine broke in and invited her drug dealer or other unknown person to meet her there.” She wrote “Marine invited someone” over one column. “Second, someone else broke in and lured Marine there for the purpose of killing her.” She wrote “Someone lured Marine” over the other column.
“I don’t think we can assume they planned on killing her in the second scenario,” Harriet said. “Maybe they wanted to blackmail Aiden and were going to ‘discover’ him there with her passed out on the sofa, but they overdid the drugs and killed her instead. From what I’ve heard about her family, it wouldn’t be impossible to think they might do something like that.”
Beth added a note in the second column.
Harriet put a hand over her mouth and stared at the chart.
“A lot of the medicines Aiden uses on dogs are the exact same as people use, just different doses.”
“What’s your point?” Lauren asked.
“My point is, they must have some other evidence against Aiden. We need to figure out what else they have.”
“Didn’t Morse say hair and saliva?” Robin pointed out.
Beth set her marking pen on the table and sat down.
“I would think finding Aiden’s hair on someone found on his sofa in his apartment wouldn’t be very strong as evidence goes.”
Mavis picked up her teaspoon and twirled it between her fingers.
“If he did do mouth-to-mouth, that would explain the saliva. They have to know that. There must have something else.”
Lauren sat up straight.
“Let’s cut to the chase. What are our assignments?”
Robin put the cap back on her pen and tucked it into her bag.
“We need to be careful. We don’t want to make things any worse for Aiden, and it sounds like Officer Nguyen has already warned Harriet to keep away from the investigation.”
Aunt Beth flipped to a new page of the chart and wrote “assignments” across the top.
“Since Marine was attending our quilt retreat when she died, I don’t think it would be out of order for the Loose Threads to reach out to her family.”
“Maybe we could take up a collection for her funeral expenses,” Carla suggested, speaking for the first time since the meeting started. “If her mom is like my mom, all you have to do is offer money, and you’ll have her attention.”
Beth wrote “collect money for funeral expenses” on the flip chart.
“Mavis and I can do that one,” she said as she wrote.
“I can go canvass the neighborhood for Aiden sightings,” Jessica volunteered. “I don’t mind going during our lunch break. I’ve got a protein bar I can eat for lunch.”
“If you want company, I’ll join you,” Connie told her.
“I’ll research Marine’s family on the Internet and see what I can find out,” Lauren said.
Beth wrote everyone’s tasks on the chart page.
Harriet pulled the pan of brownies toward her and cut one in half before removing it from the pan and taking a bite.
“I’m going to see if I can get in to visit Aiden, assuming he doesn’t get out on bail. I’d like to ask him directly if he did CPR on Marine, and if not, how he thinks his saliva ended up on her body.”
“I’ve got to go make sure my kids are getting to bed,” Robin told them. “I’ll call DeAnn in the morning and see if she can help find Marine’s family.” She looked at Lauren’s roommate. “DeAnn’s family owns a video store in town. A lot of people are still old school in Foggy Point,” she explained. “She can check their customer database and see if any of them rent movies.”
“If anyone comes up with anything, let Harriet know,” Mavis said.
Connie picked up two empty mugs.
“You go on ahead home,” she told Carla. “If I know Grandpa Rod, he’ll still be reading ‘one more story’ to Wendy when you get there. Tell him I’m going to help Harriet clean up.”
She and Aunt Beth went into the kitchen while the rest of the Threads gathered purses and coats and headed for the door.
Chapter 17
Mavis wiped the kitchen counter with a hand-knit dishcloth.
“Did you make this?” she asked Harriet and held the cotton square up.
“I did. I added strips of netting to the cotton yarn in the middle of it to give it scrubbing power.” She knew Mavis was well aware of the details of her knitting projects, but she appreciated the attempt to talk about anything else but Aiden.
Beth pushed the start button on the dishwasher and wiped her hands on a dishtowel.
“If you need anything or hear anything, you call. I don’t care what time of day or night it is.”
Harriet attempted a smile.
“Thanks, I will. I wonder—” She was interrupted by loud knocking on her studio door.
Connie looked at her.
“You want me to answer it?”
Harriet nodded, and Connie left, returning a moment later with Michelle Jalbert in tow.
“I need to talk to Harriet,” Michelle was saying as she followed Connie through the door.
“My day is complete,” Harriet said and slumped into one of her kitchen chairs. “What do you want, Michelle?”
“I’m going to ignore that, since I know you’re upset about my brother. Actually, that’s why I’m here. Two detectives just left Aiden’s house. They wanted me to give them permission to search the place. I told them it wasn’t my house, so I was unable to help them. They assured me they’d return in the morning with a warrant. I may be inactive right now due to my recent troubles, but I’m still an officer of the court, which limits what I’m able to do.”
She sat down opposite Harriet. Beth remained standing.
“What are you suggesting?” she asked.
“I’m going to take my laptop to the coffee shop where I know the cops take their breaks and be very visible. I left the kitchen door unlocked when I left. Since they have Aiden locked up, no one has a reason to stake out his house. I can’t say any more.” She stood up and looked at her watch. “I expect to be gone two or three hours.”
“Okay,” Harriet said.
Michelle turned and went back through the kitchen door. A moment later, they heard the outside door open and shut.
Aunt Beth looked at Mavis and Connie and then turned to Harriet.
“We’ll go with you.”
Harriet stood up.
“Are you sure you want to do that? What if we find incriminating evidence? Would you remove it? Would you stop me if I wanted to remove it?”
&nb
sp; Beth put her hand on Harriet’s arm. “I’ve known that boy since he was he was in knee pants,” she said. “There is no way he killed Marine or gave her drugs or anything else. There will be no evidence.”
“You’re right. We should go look, just to be sure there isn’t anything innocent that could be twisted into something else.” Harriet grabbed her purse and jacket from the closet. “I’ll drive.”
Aiden’s long driveway was dark and quiet as Harriet guided her car up the hill and around to the back of the large Victorian home that had belonged to his parents. True to her word, Michelle had left the door unlocked.
Harriet headed for the servants’ stairs that led from the kitchen to the second and third floors.
“Aiden’s bedroom and sitting room are on the second floor. I think we should start there.”
“Don’t touch anything,” Aunt Beth instructed the other three when they’d entered the first room. She held out a handful of one-size-fits-all plastic food handling gloves.
“These are from when I was helping Jorge package his homemade tortillas. I only have one for each of us. If you have to touch anything, do it with your glove hand.”
Connie took her glove and put it on.
“Good thinking.”
What had once been an upstairs parlor in the Victorian house had been modernized with a flat-screen TV, a gas fireplace inset, and black leather furniture. African masks and weavings adorned the walls.
Harriet sat on the sofa and picked a book up off the coffee table.
“This is the yearbook Michelle was looking at the other day. It has a picture of Marine and Aiden at the prom. Do you suppose this is what she wanted us to take away?”
“All the detectives have to do is go to the high school, and they can get a copy of the yearbook.” Connie told her.
“We need to keep looking, then. Michelle must have seen something she thinks we need to remove.” Harriet got up and went into the bedroom.
Dark wood bookshelves filled one long wall. She recognized the family albums from when his parents lived in France. He’d helped Lainie and Etienne with a family history project a few weeks before and had showed them the books.
Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) Page 11
