She pulled into the visitors section of the parking lot and was relieved that the other spaces were empty.
"Hey, Lynn,” she said when she entered the small reception area. Foggy Point Fire Protection was not the type of business that hosted a lot of customers onsite, so their waiting room had an industrial quality to it, with gray indoor/outdoor carpeting and two groupings of molded plastic chairs arranged around a stern mannequin wearing the company's signature fire protection gear.
"Oh, hi, Harriet. Do you need to see Carlton?” Lynn asked. Carlton's lack of cooperation during the lead-up to the re-enactment had necessitated so many trips to his workplace Harriet had sworn she would never come here again, yet here she was for the second time in a week. “Did you find the man you were looking for?"
"Yes, I'd like to see Carlton, if he's in and no, I haven't found Mr. Jansen yet. By the way, has anyone else come by asking about my mystery man?"
"No, you're the only one's who's looked in those books in years. The way the economy's been, we haven't hired anyone in ages, so we haven't even added any new pictures."
"And you're sure no one else has asked to see the pictures or asked about anyone who used to work here?"
"Trust me. I'm here every day, eight to five. And on the rare occasion I leave my desk for lunch, I put the phones on automatic and lock the office. If someone called or came in, I'd know it."
"Okay, well, thanks,” Harriet said, and Lynn flipped a switch on her phone and announced Harriet's presence into her headset.
"He'll be right out,” she said.
Her phone rang, and she became engrossed with a customer placing a sizable order, or at least that's what it sounded like on Lynn's side of the conversation, which she was broadcasting to the whole room. She was obviously used to having the place to herself.
"Harriet,” Carlton boomed a few minutes later as he entered from the hallway. “Come in.” He held his arm out, gesturing for her to precede him back into the hallway. “What's up?” he asked.
Another man might have asked “How can I help you?” but it wasn't in Carlton's nature to think of others.
"Are you making a new product?” she asked him when they were both seated in his office, him behind and her in front of his desk.
"Well,” he said, and stopped twirling the pencil he'd been toying with. “Why do you ask?"
Good question, Harriet thought. “I heard someone say they thought you were going to start a new product line, and I wondered if that meant you would be hiring. I know someone who's looking for work.” It sounded lame even to her, but Carlton didn't seem to notice.
"Carlton, baby, let's get out of here,” Bebe said as she sauntered into the office. She was wearing a pale-pink tube top and dark blue denim skirt that was almost conservative, falling only six inches above her tanned knees. “We have lunch reservations at Bella Italia in Port Angeles."
"I didn't think they were open for lunch,” Harriet said.
"Oh, hi, Harriet,” Bebe said. “They aren't open to the public till four, but they're opening early for us.” She looked at the pink-faced, gold Juicy Couture charm watch on her left wrist. “Say bye, Carlton, we gotta go."
Carlton got up and grabbed his linen sport coat then plucked his car keys from a ceramic ashtray on his desk.
"Sorry, Harriet, I've got to run,” he said, and left through a back door to the outside.
"Don't worry, I'll show myself out,” Harriet said but didn't move. As long as she was here, she might as well have a look around.
She stood and glanced through the open door. Lynn was still sitting at her desk and talking on her headset. Harriet went around the desk and sat in Carlton's chair. There were stacks of papers and files on both sides of the center blotter. The first folder she opened contained a flyer from a company that supplied premium items with the company logo on them. A note clipped to the flyer instructed Carlton to pick his two favorite colors for the insulated cup holders the company would be handing out at the annual picnic.
The next folder contained his credit card bill and a stack of receipts that looked like they matched the charges. The third folder was the information she'd asked him for—a list of projects Gerald had worked on. She wasn't sure how it was going to help, but she took the list from the folder, folded it in half and tucked it into her sling.
A quick glance through the remaining files and papers revealed more of the same—busy work. The company managers obviously gave Carlton just enough to keep him busy the few hours he was in the office but kept him far away from the actual running of the business.
After another quick check into the hallway, she returned to Carlton's desk and tried the drawers. They were locked, all of them. She yanked on the handle of what should be a file drawer. Not only was the drawer locked but it appeared to have more than the usual flimsy device that was standard issue on most office furniture.
Carlton's bookshelves held a few titles on business subjects that appeared to have never had their spines cracked. The rest of the shelves were filled with framed pictures of Carlton and his parents, Carlton and Bebe, and Bebe standing by an array of pink cars and boats, wearing an assortment of pink nautical outfits.
Harriet took one last look around the office then stepped quietly into the hallway and left through the same back door Carlton and Bebe had used twenty minutes earlier.
* * * *
Aiden was standing on the porch to the vet hospital stretching his arms over his head then reaching down and touching his toes when Harriet drove past. She pulled into the next driveway she came to and turned around.
"Did you finish your surgeries?” she asked when she'd parked and gotten out of her car. He met her on the sidewalk.
"Yeah, I just finished. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"
"Sure,” she said. “I wanted to ask you something anyway."
"Let me tell them where I'm going,” he said with a nod back toward the clinic.
"I'll drive,” he said when he'd returned. “I can't believe you're safe tooling around with that thing on your arm."
"Lucky for me there's no traffic to speak of this time of day."
He helped her into the car and then drove them the dozen blocks to Annie's Coffee Shop on Ship Street. Harriet sat at a table while he ordered their drinks. He was still wearing blue surgical scrubs, and Harriet couldn't help but admire how well he filled them out.
"What are you staring at?” he asked when he came back and sat down opposite her at the dark wood table.
"I was just noting how well your scrubs fit,” she admitted.
"You do know what we wear under these, don't you?"
"You're going to make me blush if you keep talking like that."
Aiden twined his fingers in hers. “Is that a bad thing?” he said with a roguish smile.
She was saved from answering by the arrival of their drinks—Aiden's cafe Americano her tamer hot cocoa.
"I had an interesting morning,” she said when Annie had returned to the coffee bar. She recounted her talk with Carla and her visit to Foggy Point Fire Protection.
"I know you like Terry, but I still think there's something going on with him, and I think Carla's starting to suspect something, too. She didn't quite say it that way, but she knows something isn't right."
"I hate to say it, but I'm starting to wonder myself. I didn't want to say anything to Carla, but it seems weird to me he was at the house night and day for a couple of weeks and now all of a sudden he's only around in the morning. But he claims he's on vacation, and he says he hasn't found anything out about his dad. If that's true, what's he doing at night that's keeping him from seeing Carla?"
"That's what I was wondering. And I have an idea."
"Now I'm afraid."
"It's not dangerous or anything. I think we should follow him. Tonight."
"I knew I should be afraid. We aren't detectives. You're a quilter and I'm a vet—we don't follow people."
"But we could. I think Carla knows wh
ere he's staying. We follow him, and when we find out he joined a bowling league and is practicing his game every evening, we can tell Carla and then she won't be worried that she's done something wrong."
"What if we follow him and he goes to the docks and picks up a drug shipment? What then?"
She didn't say anything.
"Didn't think of that, did you? We might find out things we don't want to know."
"If he's a drug dealer or worse we do need to know that. It might break Carla's heart, but she needs to know if it's something like that."
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but okay, say we're going to follow Terry. Do you have any idea how to do that without being detected immediately?” he asked.
"I have a few ideas,” she said with a smile. She picked up her cup and took a sip.
"Since I did early surgery I can be off by four.” He took a drink from his cup.
"Carla invited me to dinner at your house tonight. She wants to do another practice dinner. I'll call her and see how early we can do it."
"Shall I pick you up on my way home?"
"No, my plan requires us each to have a car."
"You're starting to make me nervous."
"It's going to be fine. We're going to find out where Terry goes at night, and he'll be none the wiser."
Aiden glanced at his watch. “I better go. I need to make sure everybody woke up okay after their surgeries. I hate to leave you on your own when you're like this."
"I think I've just been insulted."
"You know what I mean. When you're trying to help one of your friends, you take risks—it scares me."
"I'm not taking any risks!"
Aiden tugged on the edge of her sling with his fingers. “Says the woman with the broken collar bone."
"I was not taking a risk when this happened. I was walking in a public park."
"Yeah, which just happens to be the scene of a crime."
"It was broad daylight,” Harriet argued, her voice rising slightly.
"I don't like to see you hurt,” he said softly and stood up.
She stood up, too, and leaned into him as he put his arm carefully around her shoulders.
"I won't get hurt again. You'll be with me, remember?"
He guided her past the dirty cup station and out to the car.
"I'm going to go back home and see what the Willis gang is up to,” she said as they drove back to the Animal Hospital.
"I hope they're keeping their hands to themselves."
"They've got bigger fish to fry. They're waiting for James to arrive."
"He's the lawyer?"
"Yeah, and unfortunately, it's not hard to imagine more than one reason Mavis could need one."
"She'll be alright. She's a tough old bird."
"Not this time. You haven't seen her like I have. She cried when she found that quilt in her house. Have you ever seen her cry?"
"I'm sure with you helping it will all be sorted out."
"I wish I had your confidence."
"See you tonight,” he said when she was once again behind the wheel of her car. He leaned in the open window and kissed her. She smiled when he started to pull away, and pulled him back for seconds before she raised her window and drove away.
* * * *
Aunt Beth was working on the long arm machine when Harriet came into the studio.
"Hi,” she said and then realized her aunt wasn't alone. A tall red-head Harriet didn't recognize was sitting at her computer. The presence of Harry and Ben on either side of the man meant that this had to be Mavis's second-to-oldest son, James the attorney.
"I hope you don't mind,” Aunt Beth said. “I told James it would be okay for him to use your computer."
"Sorry,” James said from behind the monitor. “Your wifi is password protected, so I couldn't use my laptop."
"It's no problem. If it will help your mom, use it all you need. Where is she, by the way?"
"She went to see that woman,” Harry said.
"Ilsa?” Harriet asked. “Why is she seeing Ilsa?"
"The woman called and wanted to talk about the funeral. They decided to meet with Pastor Hafer to help figure things out."
"So have you found out anything interesting yet?"
"It's really weird,” Ben said without looking up. James was furiously clicking the mouse.
"Mom might not be cheating the insurance company after all.” Harry offered.
"What do you mean?” Harriet put her purse down and went over.
"He means the company issuing the payment checks to our mom doesn't seem to exist.” James stood up and held out his hand. “I'm James, by the way. I'm assuming you're Harriet."
"I am,” Harriet said, and took his hand awkwardly in her left one. “Nice to meet you. Your mom is very proud of you."
"That's embarrassing,” James said. “Usually Mom just apologizes for the misdeeds of our youth."
"She quit including you in that when you passed the bar,” Harry said.
"So, tell me about the insurance payments,” Harriet said.
"Something very strange is going on,” James explained. “She is supposedly receiving widow's benefits from Dad's company insurance. I use the term supposedly because I can't find any record of the insurance company that's issuing the checks. As near as I can tell, the checks are being auto-drafted from a bank account. Gerry told me the name of the insurance carrier the company uses now, and they have no record of any type of payout to my mom."
"Where does that leave her?” Harriet asked.
"It could mean several things. It might simply mean we didn't find the insurance company. It's not unusual that a company the size of Foggy Point Fire might have changed insurance carriers more than once or twice in a twenty-year period. That being said, it is unusual that we couldn't find the company.
"Mom's checks are no help, as they don't have a company name, only a numerical ID. Even with her power of attorney, I got nowhere on the phone with the bank. They won't tell me who the account holder is. It's possible Foggy Point Fire chose to carry their own paper."
"So?” Harriet asked.
"It means they didn't have a policy through a company. They simply set aside a large pot of money that could be used if needed but otherwise belongs to the company. Remember, the company was pretty small back then. The rules change when you get bigger."
"So, now what?"
"I'm going to hire an investigator; I know a guy who specializes in this type of search. We can't begin to assess where Mom stands until we can talk to whatever entity has been providing the money."
"It's not like Mom was trying to defraud the insurance company,” Ben said. “She really thought Dad was dead."
"Unfortunately, as far as the law is concerned, ignorance isn't considered a valid argument in most proceedings."
"What about Social Security?” Harriet asked.
"I was in law school when Dad died.” James said. “Gerry worked at the company, but he had just started and the rest of the boys were still in school. Mom didn't talk to any of us about her financial situation. Mom says Carlton's dad Marvin advised her not to apply for Social Security for herself or the boys at that point. I'll have to do a little research to find out why he would have said that, but frankly, right now, I'm glad she didn't."
He leaned back in the chair and rubbed his hands over his face and then his head. “I haven't looked at the second wife and Dad's estate yet. That could be a real can of worms, given that his second marriage was in a foreign country.” He pulled a small notebook out of his shirt pocket and made a note. “I'll get someone to research that for me. If we're lucky, Mom's marriage will be the valid one."
"What a mess,” Harriet said.
"Dad must have known how this would wreck Mom's life,” Harry said. “Why would he just disappear?"
"Don't even go there,” James said. “Dad's dead. We may never know why he left. We need to concentrate on Mom."
"I agree we need to take care of Mom, but I n
eed to know who killed Dad and why,” Ben said.
The outside studio door opened, and Mavis entered. Harriet couldn't help but notice the new-looking black shirt-style jacket that had replaced her usual man's plaid flannel shirt. In her mind's eye, Harriet imagined Mavis in her back yard burning a pile of similar flannel shirts she had been wearing and carefully repairing for almost twenty years; her personal shrine to the husband she'd thought she'd lost.
"What was the old saying when you guys were all at home? Any time you see three Willis boys together in one place, trouble is sure to follow.” Mavis crossed the entry area and stood in front of her offspring.
"Mom, I'm injured,” James said with a hint of the boyish smile that had helped him charm his way out of trouble. Harriet wondered if he used it on juries.
"Yeah,” Harry added. “Cut us to the quick."
"We're trying to keep you out of jail, if you must know,” Ben said.
"And just how are you doing that?” Mavis asked, and poked a finger into his chest.
"Well, technically, I guess you could say I'm not, but I'm helping James."
"That's what I thought. He always has been able to get you to do his dirty work."
"Seriously, Mom,” James said. “We're trying to figure your widow's benefits out. If you can remember anything else about that time, it could help."
Mavis returned to the sitting area and settled in one of the wing-back chairs. Aunt Beth joined her, taking the chair opposite her friend.
"Your mom has thought about this all she can,” Beth said. “Your dad had just died then, and he's just died again now. Let her be until she can catch up with herself. Harry, you go put the water on for tea. Ben, put some of those chocolate chip cookies on the cooling rack on a plate and bring them in here."
"You made cookies while I was gone?” Harriet said, but no one was listening to her.
"James, take a break."
The attorney looked like he was going to protest, but one look at Aunt Beth changed his mind.
Quilt As You Go Page 14
