Chapter 23
Harriet's hand was caught in the drive chain of the conveyor belt at Foggy Point Fire Protection, and she was being dragged toward two giant rollers that compressed two layers of fiber into one. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She thrashed from side to side, but the belt kept moving. She awoke tangled in her sheets with Fred biting the knuckles of her good hand.
"Stop that,” she said and batted him away. “I left food in your dish last night after you were sawing logs, so at the very least, you've eaten that. I'll just bet at least one Willis boy has fed you, too."
She got up, showered and dressed, and went down to find her kitchen empty. She ate a bowl of cereal and fed Fred again before grabbing her purse and heading for the door to her studio. Aunt Beth arrived as she unlocked the door to the outside.
"Good morning. I hope I'm not being presumptuous, but since we still don't have any jobs pressing, I thought I'd work on my own quilt again."
"It's your machine."
"I gave it to you, though, and I'm trying to honor that."
"Oh, Auntie, what's mine is yours, literally.” Harriet smiled and gave her aunt a one-armed hug.
"So, where are you off to?” Beth asked. “You checking up on Carla and Aiden?"
"I guess you talked to Mavis."
"We had tea this morning. She said things went well with the family dinner."
"Yeah, it seemed to, after everyone got over the initial shock of finding out Gerald/Gerard had a daughter."
"Mavis said Carla called for Aiden at the end."
"She did. I've thought about this, and I think what bothers me is not that he goes to her, but more the way he does it."
"You need to tell him that,” Aunt Beth said.
"This gets back to the same old problem. I'm just not sure I want to ‘train’ someone ... another someone. Look how that turned out.” She was trying to leave Steve and his lies in the past, and she truly believed she was doing better, but it still sneaked up on her now and then.
"He's not a dog,” Aunt Beth said. “Any relationship requires communication by both parties. He's not a mind reader, and for that matter, neither are you. If you need him to act different before he goes to help someone else you need to tell him. Your uncle Hank and I were learning things about each other right up till the end."
"Well, in any case, Aiden's at work, so I'm not going to visit him. I thought I'd go talk to Carlton and see if he can tell me who Gerard/Gerald was working with twenty years ago and who is still around. Marit told me her father came back because a man was doing something bad and he could stop him. It has to relate to something that was going on twenty years or more ago. Our only other clue is the postcard he had Gerry send to the post office box about the chemical use."
"Don't forget what you saw from Miller Hill,” Aunt Beth reminded. “That has to fit into the picture."
"I think it's obvious the chemicals are being used to make something other than firemen's turnouts. And Carla's friend Terry has something to do with it. I just don't know what."
"Whatever is going on, someone cares enough about it to kill Gerald to keep it secret,” Aunt Beth said. “And you be careful, missy. Whoever killed Gerald is serious about protecting their business."
"I'm not doing anything dangerous, I promise. I'm going to talk to Carlton. I may go by Pins and Needles and see if Carla's there on my way home."
"I'll probably go by the church later and see if Jenny and DeAnn need any help arranging the flowers. The Dutch people are all in the business, so they called home last night and apparently have arranged for a lot of flowers to arrive this afternoon."
"I'll have my cell phone on if you need any help,” Harriet said and left.
July through September were among the warmest months in Foggy Point, but they also are the months when morning fog returns, and such was the case as Harriet drove down her driveway and headed for Foggy Point Fire Protection. Wisps of white mist clung to the Muckleshoot River and curled toward the roadway as she drove to the factory.
Lynn was in her customary place at the reception desk when Harriet came into the lobby.
"Is the big man in?” Harriet asked.
"Yeah. Want me to see if he's receiving this morning?"
"Please."
But before Lynn could carry out her offer, Carlton emerged from his office.
"Hi, Harriet,” he said “What can I do you for?"
"Gerald's funeral is going to be tomorrow at the Methodist Church. We're trying to get the word out, so I thought I'd come by and see if there are any people here that knew him and might want to be notified.” She mentally patted herself on the back for her brilliant ruse.
"I can post a notice in the lunchroom,” Carlton offered.
"I was hoping to be a little more pro-active than that. You know—I thought I could personally invite them."
"I'm sure they appreciate your concern, but that's what we have Human Resources for. They handle this type of thing. Lynn, have HR call Pastor Hafer at the Methodist Church and get the details. Thanks again for stopping by, Harriet.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the entrance.
Harriet planted her feet before he could get her out the door.
"A couple of us went up to Miller Hill Park the other night to get mineral water,” she said. “We realized we were looking down on your factory."
Carlton didn't say anything.
"I didn't think you ran a night shift,” she said finally.
"We don't."
"Someone was working. The lights were on, and a big door was open on the side toward the end of the building."
"We rent that section to an outside company for warehouse space. Maybe they were shuffling their goods around. That wouldn't be a shock, if you think about it. Now, I've got to get back to work. It was nice seeing you, and thanks for the information about Gerald's funeral. We'll be sure and let anyone who plans on attending have the time off."
He turned his head at the sound of a door opening somewhere down the hall. Bebe appeared dressed in a bright-pink flower print mini-dress.
"Gosh, Harriet, are you here again? Seems like every time I turn around you're here bothering Carlton."
Harriet could feel her shoulders tensing, and it hurt. “I was telling Carlton about the funeral arrangements for Gerald. I thought since Gerald had worked with Carlton's dad for so long, he'd want to know."
"So what did that have to do with what's going on in our warehouse? That's what you were talking about when I came in, wasn't it?"
"Darling, it's okay. Harriet was at Miller Hill Park the other night and noticed the lights, that's all."
Bebe gave Harriet a mother-lioness-protecting-her-cub look then pivoted on her pink spike heel and went back down the hall.
"Don't mind Bebe,” Carlton said. “She's helping me manage my stress."
Harriet had no choice but to leave. She wasn't sure what else she could ask if he wouldn't acknowledge the basic fact that people were doing work at night. She got in her car and drove back to downtown Foggy Point.
* * * *
Marjory was at the cutting table when Harriet walked into Pins and Needles.
"Did you come for a look at the new Christmas fabric I just got in?” she asked. “Connie beat you to it if you were hoping to be the first."
"I haven't given Christmas a thought yet. It's still summer."
"Exactly. Summer is when you should be thinking about those Christmas projects, especially if you plan on making bed quilts."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt to look."
"That's my girl,” Marjory said with a smile. “Can I get you a cup of tea?"
Harriet smiled back and nodded then continued on into the small classroom, where Marjory had set up a temporary display of all the new fabric. She'd arranged the bolts of material around the room, draping lengths from some across chair backs while others were stacked on tables against the wall. All of them were placed for easy access and
viewing. Once they went onto the shelves with all the other bolts of fabric, only their edge would show, like books on a shelf.
An hour passed before Harriet even thought to ask where Carla was.
"She asked if she could rearrange her schedule today. She said she was worried about her friend Terry and was going to look for him.” She checked her wristwatch. “She should be here in just a bit."
"Did she say where she was going to look?"
"She was going to check his hotel room and then drive up to Miller Hill Park and see if he was there."
"Why can't she just stay home and wait for him to resurface?” Harriet asked.
"Maybe she's been watching her mentor a little too close. Or maybe she wants you to know how your aunt feels."
"In any case,” Harriet said, not ready to admit Marjory may be onto something, “I think I'll go by Aiden's on my way home and see if she's back."
She tried to pick up four bolts of Christmas fabric with her one arm but could only manage two.
"Here, let me help you,” Marjory said. “How much do you want?"
"I think I'll have two yards of each.” She didn't have a plan for the fabric, but with two yards of each she should be able to do something. “And maybe I better have a yard of the cream-colored print that goes with them.” Harriet was trying to adhere to an article she'd read that pointed out most quilters didn't have enough light-colored fabrics in their stash and should therefore make it a point to pick up a neutral light color with every purchase, whether they needed it at the time or not.
Marjory unrolled several rotations'-worth of fabric off the first bolt and smoothed it out on her cutting table, measuring and moving it until she had two yards of the maroon-and-gray tree print to her right. She made a small cut on the fold of the fabric to mark the two-yard point then slid that point to the middle of her cutting mat and used her plexiglas ruler and rotary tool to cut the fabric in a straight line.
"You were here twenty years ago when Mavis's husband disappeared, weren't you?” Harriet asked.
"I've lived in Foggy Point my whole life, so yes, I was here when Gerald Willis died—the first time. I didn't own the store, of course, but I was around."
"Can you think of anyone who worked with Gerald back then and is still around now?"
Marjory thought for a moment. “You know, I can't. Remember, Foggy Point Fire Protection wasn't called that, and it was much smaller. Let me think again.” She tapped her forefinger against her upper lip. “You know, my brother worked there around then. What I remember is that there was a big layoff. I remember it because the unemployment in Washington State had been improving for a number of years and was at one of its lower points, so it was weird that Carlton's dad laid off almost the whole work force.
"My brother found another job within a week. I think most of the other people did, too. FPFP actually had trouble a few months later when they started making the fireman's turnouts. They had a big job fair in the middle of town. I even worked for them for a few years. They offered signing bonuses and everything, but my brother didn't trust Carlton's dad and refused to come back."
"That's weird,” Harriet said.
"Well, that's the Brewsters for you—or haven't you noticed that Carlton's not the sharpest knife in the rack? His dad wasn't as slow as Carlton, but he was always strange."
Harriet paid for her purchases and headed for Aiden's house to check up on Carla. She could see the road to Mavis's cottage coming up on her right, and in a last-minute move, she turned.
Mavis's powder blue Town Car was parked in front, and she opened the front door before Harriet could knock.
"Your asters are beautiful,” Harriet said, referring to the lavender daisy-shaped flowers that covered two large plants in the flowerbeds on either side of the path leading to the cottage porch.
"Yes, they are, but I'm sure you didn't come to admire my asters. Are you staying for tea?” She held the door open, and Harriet stepped into the cozy living room.
"No, I was just at Pins and Needles, and Marjory said Carla took some time off to search for Terry. I thought I'd go by Aiden's and see if she's back."
Mavis waited patiently for her to say more.
"I swung by Carlton's office before I went to the quilt store. He insists nothing is going on at night other than warehouse work. I tried to get him to tell me who still works there that worked there during Gerald's time. He was kind of evasive, but it was hard to tell if he was trying to avoid telling me or if he was just being Carlton."
"I lost touch with those people after Gerald die—” She stopped and corrected herself. “...disappeared."
"Marjory said they had a layoff around the time Gerald left."
"Yeah, but that wasn't unusual back in those days. Until they started making the fireman's turnouts, things were real up and down. Products came and went, and the work force came and went with them."
"This is so frustrating,” Harriet said. “I feel like we're so close to knowing what happened. If only we could figure out how the pieces fit together. Actually, that's why I stopped by. I was hoping you'd let me borrow the mystery square and Gerald's quilt. I'd like to get as many of the Threads together as we can on short notice. If everyone could look at the mystery square, it might jog a memory or create a connection or something."
Mavis went into her sewing room and returned with the quilt and the square.
"Do you need a bag?” she asked. “I tried to pin the magic square to the quilt, but my pin bent."
"This is fine,” Harriet said and took the two pieces.
"You want me to start calling people?"
"I don't want to impose on your time."
"I need the distraction. Everyone is busy working on the funeral, and I'm just sitting here stewing. Where do you want to meet?"
"Tico's, if it's okay with Jorge."
"You go check on Carla, and I'll call around and let you know what people say."
"Thanks.” She gave Mavis a one-armed hug.
"Thank you, honey. You're the one doing me a favor, figuring this thing out."
Harriet went to her car hoping she wasn't going to disappoint her friend.
Aiden's mother had left him her house and her collection of cars. It had been one of her few indulgences, apart from quilting fabric. The stately Victorian had a matching carriage house that had been turned into a five-car garage complete with servant's quarters on the second floor.
Carla didn't own a car of her own, and Aiden had been happy to share his fleet with her. It was anyone's guess which one she was driving today.
Harriet pulled around to the back of the house, as she generally came and went through the back porch door when she visited. There were no other cars visible, but she parked and went up to the door anyway, looking around the groomed back yard and the landscaped grounds leading to the woods beyond. She was reminded again of just how isolated the house was.
She heard the crunch of gravel behind her and was relieved to see a familiar Mercedes sedan pull in behind her car.
"Hi, Harriet,” Carla said as she got out. “Aiden's at work."
"Actually, I came to see you."
"What's up?” She went around to the passenger side and got Wendy out of her car seat in the back.
"I heard you went to look for Terry this morning."
"I did,” Carla said.
"And you took Wendy with you?” Harriet asked without thinking about how it would sound.
"No, I didn't take Wendy.” Carla's face burned red.
"I'm sorry,” Harriet said. “Of course you didn't."
"I took her to the drop-in day care at the Methodist Church."
"Did you find Terry?"
"No,” Carla's shoulders drooped. “His car wasn't at his motel, and it wasn't at Miller Hill Park either."
"Well,” Harriet said, trying to brighten her voice. “We know he's good at sneaking around. A whole group of us were following him, and four of us followed him all the way into the park, and he st
ill was able to get the drop on us. He could very well be right here in town and doing just fine."
"He's not trying to hide from me on purpose, though,” Carla said defensively. “He told me he was taking Wendy and me to breakfast. And he wanted to take Wendy to toddler time at the library. He wouldn't have made all those plans if he didn't want to see me anymore."
Let's hope not, Harriet thought. “Did he say anything about what he was doing?"
Wendy ran to the grassy back yard and plopped down on her rear end, laughing as she did so. Carla followed and handed her a brightly colored plush chicken. The toy made a cackling noise in response to the motion, which caused Wendy to giggle.
"He hasn't told me anything except that he's trying to find people who knew his dad. He said he was meeting a guy the other night. And he went to the library, but mostly he doesn't like to talk about it."
"Assuming he's not a big jerk—and at this point we don't have any evidence that he is—I'm starting to get worried."
Carla's eyes opened wide, and she sucked in her breath, but she didn't say anything.
"We're trying to get the Loose Threads together this afternoon to talk about things. Can you come?"
"What time?"
"Mavis was going to start calling people while I came here to check up on you,” Harriet said. “She said she'd call and tell me the time when she had one."
"Do you want some lemonade?” Carla asked. “I made some from scratch this morning. Maybe Mavis will call while we're drinking it."
"Okay,” Harriet said. “Tell me everything you saw at Terry's motel."
Carla picked up Wendy and swung her onto her hip, then led the way into the kitchen. She poured lemonade for herself and Harriet and poured apple juice into Wendy's sippy-cup. The toddled insisted on sitting on a “big-girl” chair at the kitchen table instead of her high chair, and Carla indulged her.
Harriet made Carla retrace her steps over and over again, but the only significant observation she made was the absence of Terry's car. He wasn't at his motel.
Carla had gotten up to refill their glasses when Harriet's cell phone rang. Mavis had arranged a meeting of most of the Loose Threads at Tico's Tacos at four that afternoon.
Quilt As You Go Page 20
