Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8)

by Arlene Sachitano

  A carved cherry bed was centered on the short wall, with matching nightstands on either side. A lamp and a clock were on the near stand; this was clearly the side of the bed Aiden slept on. A stack of leather-bound journals sat in front of the clock. Harriet picked up the top book from the stack with her gloved hand and flipped it open. She recognized the handwriting. It was less mature but definitely Aiden’s.

  She took the first two books and sat down on the edge of the bed to read. He had chronicled his troubles with Marine. When she’d skimmed the first two, she reached for the rest of the stack and paged through them, slowing down when she reached the section where he talked about Marine’s scheme to convince the whole town he was her baby-daddy.

  Aunt Beth came into the bedroom.

  “We’ve been through everything, but other than the yearbook, there isn’t anything here. Have you found something?”

  Harriet looked up from the journal.

  “Oh, yeah.” She ran her gloved finger down the page in front of her, stopping when she found the place. “‘She’s ruining my life,’” she read. “’I wish she was dead’.” She shut the book. “I think we’ve found what Michelle was talking about.” She looked at the wall of books.

  “What are you looking for?” her aunt asked when Harriet stood up to get a closer look.

  “Aiden numbered his journals. The ones by the bed are from the middle of a series. I’m just wondering where the rest of them are. I don’t see any similar volumes in here.”

  “Maybe he brought them down from the attic,” Mavis said from the doorway. “His mother always kept her old pictures up there. Maybe his journals were up there, too.”

  Connie joined them.

  “I’m not comfortable removing anything the police might be looking for from the house, but I don’t have a problem with returning these journals to the box they came from in the attic, if we find that box.”

  Harriet went back toward the hallway.

  “Let’s go find that box.”

  It took a half-hour and several sneezing fits before they found two boxes marked “Aiden’s Journals.”

  “Hallelujah,” Harriet exclaimed. She folded the flaps back on the first box and could see the space the journals in Aiden’s bedroom had occupied. “I’m a little surprised he put these back under so many others.”

  Connie looked up from a box she was returning to the industrial storage shelves that had been erected in one of the gable niches.

  “Maybe he got them out when he heard who was coming to stay with Michelle. He could have planned on destroying them, but he hasn’t been home to do it.”

  “I suppose,” Harriet mused. “If we all agree, I’m going to go down and get them. I think we should put them back in with the other journals and then bury them deep.”

  “Would it be too obvious if we moved them over to this section where all the old clothes are?” Mavis asked.

  Harriet paused at the top of the stairs.

  “It can’t hurt. Just remember to keep your hands covered when you move the boxes.”

  Beth pulled her sleeve back and looked at her watch.

  “We better wrap it up here. We’ve been here almost an hour and a half. How long did Michelle say she’d be gone?”

  “She said two or three hours,” Connie answered.

  “I’d like to check out the room Marine was staying in,” Harriet told them.

  “Do you know which one it is?” Connie asked.

  “I know Michelle and the kids stay at the other end of this floor,” Harriet said. “Let’s see if her room is down there.”

  They made their way down the hallway, across the landing that looked down on the entry hall, and into the opposite wing.

  “Let’s each try a door,” Harriet suggested.

  Mavis opened the third door down on the left.

  “Jackpot. There’s no mistaking this ratty fur-collared coat.” She entered the room, followed by Harriet.

  Harriet turned slowly in a circle then stepped over to a fake leather hobo bag sitting on a wooden chair by the door. She reached into the bag and stirred the clothing around, verifying there was nothing else inside.

  “This is really sad. She was supposed to be staying for a week or more, and there are only two changes of clothes here—no undies and no night clothes.” She went to the closet and opened the door. “Nothing in here, either.”

  Mavis crossed the room to the desk.

  “She actually did a little work on her quilt block.” She held the piece up and showed it to Harriet.

  “Are you ladies finding anything?” Beth asked from the doorway.

  “Not really,” Harriet said. “I want to check one more thing, though.”

  She went to the bed and shoved her gloved hand and forearm between the mattress and box spring, sweeping it along the length of the bed, stopping when her hand encountered something. She slowly pulled her arm back out, clutching a worn black leather zip case in her hand.

  “What have we there?” Aunt Beth asked.

  Harriet unzipped the case and separated the two halves.

  “This is interesting. I’m not well versed on my illegal drugs, but there are two syringes, a small spoon and two cellophane packages with crumbly whitish stuff inside.”

  Mavis stepped over to take a closer look.

  “Looks like heroin to me.”

  Beth laughed. “Based on your vast knowledge of illicit drugs?”

  “Hey, I watch the crime channel. They always pull these little bags from the suspect’s pocket.”

  Harriet zipped the case back up and returned it to its hiding place.

  “Does anyone else find it weird that Marine seemed desperate for drugs when she came to class and ended up at Aiden’s with what we guess is animal medicine in her arm, but she had a supply of some drug she could have been using the whole time?”

  “That is a little strange,” Beth said.

  “Maybe Michelle didn’t leave her alone long enough for her to use her own supply,” Connie suggested.

  “I’m guessing addicts are pretty adept at getting away to use their drugs,” Harriet said.

  Aunt Beth glanced at her watch again.

  “We better get going.”

  Harriet guided her car into the parking lot of the Steaming Cup coffee shop. She had called Lauren from Aiden’s driveway to give her the update, and Lauren confessed she and Jessica were having a hot cocoa nightcap and invited Harriet and her coconspirators to join them.

  “That makes no sense,” Jessica said when Harriet and the other Threads had their hot drinks and were seated in upholstered chairs and a sofa in front of the coffee shop’s gas fireplace. “Marine was definitely hurting when we saw her at the church. She needed her drugs. Why would she leave home without them?”

  Harriet stirred the whipped cream into her hot chocolate.

  “Could she have been so impaired she didn’t remember she’d stashed drugs under her mattress?”

  “Anything’s possible,” Jessica told her. “I’ve been around addicts, but I’m certainly no expert. My training was aimed more at their soul than their body.”

  Lauren slid her tablet from her bag and woke it up.

  “I think we need to change our focus. We’re concentrating too much on Aiden.”

  Harriet felt her cheeks flush.

  “He is the one sitting in jail.”

  “Calm down, I get it. I’m just saying, since we already know he didn’t do it, maybe we should be concentrating more on who else wanted Marine dead. As near as I can tell, her mom is still somewhere in the area. From all her address changes, I’m pretty sure she does a lot of couch surfing. Or maybe she’s just had a lot of live-in boyfriends with the men having the living quarters. Michelle mentioned a new husband, but all the marriage records I’ve found have a matching divorce or annulment.”

  “Does Marine have any other family?” Jessica asked.

  “Funny you should ask.” Lauren tapped the screen. “She has no full sibl
ings, but she has at least four halves.”

  “Have you found where they live?” Connie asked.

  “Her elder brother is currently incarcerated on federal drug charges. Her next brother has an arrest record but is not jailed at this time. I don’t know where he is, but his arrests were all in this area, so chances are he’s around. The third is a half-sister. She is currently a student on scholarship at University of Washington.” Lauren chuckled. “You guys are going to love this. Marine’s youngest sibling is really a young sibling.” She looked briefly at the ceiling, her lips moving silently. “She is currently eight years old.”

  “Do they share the same father?” Aunt Beth asked.

  “No. Marine doesn’t have a father listed on her birth certificate. Her mom was fifteen when she had Marine, so she was probably thirty-six when she had this last one.”

  “So, we can eliminate the one in jail,” Harriet said.

  “Unless he has friends on the outside,” Mavis said.

  “Okay,” Harriet continued, “the older of the two brothers would have to have help from someone on the outside. And we can eliminate the eight-year-old. The sister in college is probably less likely, so that leaves us Mom and the second half-sib.”

  Lauren drained the last chocolate from her mug.

  “I have some other resources I can tap tomorrow. Unless they’re in witness protection, I should be able to locate both of them.”

  “Do we know if Marine had a boyfriend or even a john?” Aunt Beth asked.

  “Good point,” Harriet said. She looked at Lauren. “Did you check to see if Marine has a record?”

  “No, but I can do that.” She tapped in a note.

  Jessica swirled the chocolate sludge in the bottom of her cup.

  “I should have thought of that. Female addicts often turn to prostitution to pay for their drugs.”

  Aunt Beth crumpled her napkin and picked up her mug.

  “We probably aren’t going to be able to come up with answers tonight, and we have class early in the morning.”

  “Beth’s right,” Connie agreed and stood up, followed by the rest of the group.

  “We’ll see you at the church in the morning,” Harriet said to Lauren and Jessica. “Thanks for all the information.”

  “No problem,” Lauren said, and they went to their respective cars and headed for home.

  Chapter 18

  Blue skies greeted the quilters as they made their way up to the church entrance from the lower parking lot. Sharon had refused Harriet’s offer to drop her by the door, since it wasn’t raining. Lauren and Jessica were approaching from the left as Mavis climbed out of Aunt Beth’s silver Beetle, parked in the row ahead of them.

  Harriet had to look twice before she could be sure the woman with Lauren was, in fact, her roommate.

  “Jessica? Is that you?”

  She wore a dark-blue A-line skirt that stopped several inches south of her knees. A white blouse with a Peter Pan collar was topped by a cardigan sweater in the same shade of blue as her skirt. Her hair was now a mousy brown.

  Jessica twirled around.

  “You like? This is my ‘I’m going to church’ outfit—or really, going to the church charity office outfit. Of course, we all know God doesn’t care what we wear, but I’ve found that most people are more willing to open their purse strings for a good cause if the ex-nun asking for donations looks more nun than ex. It seemed appropriate for knocking on doors in Foggy Point.”

  “What happened to your hair?” Aunt Beth asked when they had joined her and Mavis.

  Jessica twirled a lock of her now longer hair.

  “It’s a wig.”

  Mavis circled her.

  “It really looks natural.”

  “It’s the color mine used to be. The trick with wigs is to stick to hair colors that match your skin tone. That, and be willing to spend a little money. Not millions, but you can’t buy it from a discount store.”

  “Good to know,” Lauren said as she turned and led the way to the church.

  The Loose Threads gathered around the breakfast buffet in the basement reception room a few minutes later. Chocolate croissants were stacked next to cinnamon rolls and blueberry mini-muffins. Slices of coffee cake were arranged next to a bowl of cut melon and berries. A large pitcher of orange juice sat next to carafes of coffee and tea.

  Lauren bit into a croissant, and warm chocolate oozed out onto her fingers. She groaned as she licked the escaped filling.

  “Boy, they’re upping the ante foodwise.”

  Glynnis Miller joined them.

  “We thought we should provide a little extra comfort food, given the announcement we’re going to be making.”

  Aunt Beth showed her a flowered metal can with a hinged lid.

  “We’re going to take up a collection for her family to pay for funeral expenses.”

  “Oh, good. The Small Stitches were talking about doing something similar. I’ll include that in the announcement each teacher will read to their morning class. Can we put the can in the program office? We have someone in there all the time in case students have problems with anything.”

  “Sounds good,” Mavis said.

  Sharon poured herself a cup of coffee and stirred a package of artificial sweetener into it.

  “I’m going to go to my classroom so I can work a little more on my practice embroidery piece.”

  “See you in a few minutes,” Harriet said.

  Mavis and Aunt Beth went with Glynnis to the office, and Robin went with Carla to the restroom, leaving Lauren and Harriet standing by the food with Jessica.

  “It’s a good thing we’ve only got two days left,” Harriet said. “I’m going to have to go on a celery-and-water diet to make up for all the calories we’ve been consuming.”

  Lauren picked up a mini-muffin.

  “You and me both.”

  “Speaking of the event ending,” Jessica said, “this may not be the best time to mention it, but I may not get another opportunity to see you without your roommate.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Harriet said.

  “It may be nothing. In case it is something, you should know.”

  Harriet looked at Lauren, who shrugged. So, she didn’t know whatever it was, either.

  “When you were all having your meeting, I went upstairs for a while to check on Sharon. I didn’t find her in the TV room because, as it turned out, she was in the bathroom. I didn’t know that at first, so I started opening doors, and the first one I tried was obviously her bedroom. I know I shouldn’t have snooped, but I admit I’m nosey.”

  Harriet realized she was hunching her shoulders up around her ears and forced herself to relax.

  “What did you find?”

  “There was this photo album lying on her open suitcase. Of course I had to look. I thought maybe it was pictures of her past glory as a model.”

  “Spit it out, girl,” Lauren prompted.

  “It was pictures of her with Harriet’s husband.”

  Harriet relaxed. “That’s because Sharon and her husband Rick and a couple of other friends grew up with Steve in Oakland. They went to the same schools and remained friends till Steve died.”

  “Uh, okay. I’m sure they were all friends, but these looked like they were friends with benefits.” Jessica reached over and put her hand on Harriet’s arm. “I’m not trying to be mean, but did you know that Sharon and your husband had been that close in the past?”

  Harriet shook her head.

  “I think it’s a little strange this woman brings a book with dozens of pictures of her younger self in compromising positions with your husband. Clearly, it was before your marriage. I’m not saying there was an affair or anything. I’m just wondering why she has a book like that in your house all these years later.”

  “That is pretty weird,” Lauren said.

  Harriet shook her head slowly.

  “I don’t know what to say. I have no idea what to think.”

  “I
thought you should know,” Jessica said. “I mean, think about it. Someone framed your boyfriend. Maybe someone who thinks you took their boyfriend could be a candidate.”

  “Steve wasn’t seeing anyone when we started dating. He made a point of telling me that. I’m going to have think about whether that’s even possible.” Harriet ran her hand through her hair. “It’s all crazy.”

  “I’m not trying to trash your husband, but you know how people are in relationships. It might have been over for him, but not for her. As long as he wasn’t with someone, she might have had illusions they weren’t really broken up. That ended when you came on the scene.”

  “That was years ago, though,” Harriet protested. “Why wait until now?”

  “Who knows? I’m not saying she did anything for sure. I’m just saying it’s weird, and you guys can’t seem to think of anyone else who’d want to set your boyfriend up.”

  “She’s got a point,” Lauren said. “We can at least tell the Threads about it next time we meet.”

  “I still want to see where Marine’s mom and half-brother were during the critical time period. I think they’re a better bet than my roommate,” Harriet said.

  “Just watch yourself around Sharon,” Jessica told her. “We better get to class.”

  “Want me to drive you to the jail during lunch?” Lauren asked Harriet.

  Harriet headed for the stairs up to the classrooms.

  “Sure. I’ll meet you out front as soon as they let us out.”

  Harriet and Lauren weren’t the only people meeting in the church foyer when the morning session was over. Connie was waiting by the door for Jesssica; Beth and Mavis had set up a table and put their money box, along with a sign saying the donations were for the funeral expenses of their recently deceased classmate. Several quilters dropped bills into the box on their way through.

  “Have you checked with the jail to see what their visiting hours are?” Lauren asked Harriet.

  “No.”

  “I think they can receive visitors on Saturday. Not that we care, but the rest of the alphabet gets their visits on Sunday.”

  Harriet felt frustration wash over her. She knew seeing Aiden in person wouldn’t change anything, but somehow it would make her feel better.