After about thirty minutes Susanne got up and stretched.
“I want to try,” Kennette said nervously. “You can always tear it out, right?”
Eleanor disappeared and came back with a scrap of muslin and a small piece of leftover batting. She cut the muslin in half and made a quilt sandwich.
“A practice quilt,” she said.
She put it down in front of another sewing machine, and Kennette, with Susanne’s hands on top of hers, started making quilt designs on the practice piece.
“This is really fun.” Kennette smiled. “Who knew it was so easy?”
“She’s like this in class too,” I said to Natalie. “She learns things in two seconds.”
“What are you doing sitting there?” Susanne noticed me watching Kennette quilt.
“I’m done with my straight line.” I held up my quilt to show her.
“Well then you need to do the holly.”
“I’m not Kennette,” I said. “No practice quilt is going to get me ready in five minutes.”
“Not a problem, dear. You let me help you,” Bernie said. She took my place at the machine and in twenty minutes had sewn a continuous line of holly leaves without once looking up.
“My quilt is finished,” I said, and then I knew I was wrong. “Except for the binding.”
“And the label. The label is crucial,” Maggie pointed out.
Though I knew there were several ways to finish the edges of a quilt, I went for the one that I’d seen most often. Known as a French binding, it’s really a long strip of fabric that is folded in half lengthwise, sewn to the front of the quilt, and then folded over the raw edge to the back. It puts two layers of fabric at the edge of the quilt, which, I was told, is the part of the quilt that gets the most wear.
I went to the cutting table and cut several two-and-a-quarter-inch-wide strips. With Carrie and Natalie reassigned to my team and helping, I sewed the strips together and then folded the newly formed long strip in half, lengthwise. After Carrie ironed the fold for me, I returned to the sewing machine. I sewed the raw edge of the binding to the raw edge of the quilt and then held up my really close-to-being-finished quilt.
“What now?”
“Hand sew the binding to the back,” Maggie said.
“But you’re on your own for that.” Carrie pointed to the clock.
It was, amazingly, nearly midnight. We had forgotten about the time, the killer, our love lives, and the rest of the world. We had, once again, gotten lost in quilting. And I was sad to see it come to an end.
And so, apparently, was Kennette. While I left my quilt to be finished after a good night’s sleep, Kennette opted to stay at the shop until she had quilted the rest of her drunkard’s path.
“This way I can write my secret messages.” She smiled.
“Maybe if we read the quilt, we’ll learn a thing or two,” Bernie leaned to me and whispered as we left Kennette behind.
“It may be our only choice,” I agreed.
I laughed as I said it, but I wasn’t sure I was kidding.
CHAPTER 29
“You look pretty.” Kennette walked into my room just as I finished dressing for my date with Jesse. It had taken me three tries, but I was very happy with the patterned red wrap dress and tan boots I was wearing.
Kennette walked to my closet, ruffled through it for a minute, and held out a blue cardigan. “Is it okay?”
“Anything you want,” I told her. “Do you have a hot date too?”
She laughed. “I wish. I’m going over to Susanne’s for dinner. I think her husband is out of town, and she and Maggie are going to grill me.”
“Grill you?”
“That’s what she said. She wants to know everything about me.”
“They did the same thing to me when I moved here,” I said, trying to laugh it off. I silently hoped that Maggie and Susanne would be as successful getting Kennette’s story as they had once been getting mine.
“Can someone help me with this bracelet?” Eleanor walked in the room wearing a new turquoise dress.
“You look . . . Wow,” I said.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” She was beaming. “Oliver and I are just going for dinner. I’m sure we won’t be too late.”
Kennette helped Eleanor put on her bracelet then stepped back for a look. “You both look gorgeous. Jesse and Oliver are very lucky.” She grabbed the blue cardigan and a green floral skirt and headed out of the room.
Eleanor and I just looked at each other. “We’re lucky too,” Eleanor said.
“Because we have dates? I never thought you would say such a thing,” I jokingly scolded her. “You were always so independent.”
“I don’t mean the men. We have each other. We have Kennette.” She smoothed her dress. “We look really nice.”
I laughed, and in the same moment I felt tears rushing to my eyes. “I hope he makes you happy because I love you and I want . . .” I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer.
Eleanor rushed over and hugged me. “What’s all this about? Honestly, such fuss over a new friend.”
We sat on my bed and held hands. “I’ve always been happy, Nell,” Eleanor said. “I’m just surprised that I enjoy Oliver’s company so much. I’m so used to Maggie and the girls that I forgot what it’s like to spend time alone with a man.”
“How do you like it?”
“I think I like it,” she said. “How do you like it?”
“You and Oliver?”
“Yes. I thought maybe you didn’t.”
“If he’s good to you then that’s enough.” Even as I was saying it, I wondered if it were true. “It’s just that you’re being so secretive.”
“I’m not being secretive,” she said defensively. Then she sighed. “Maybe I am. I don’t want you to think of me as a silly old woman.”
“That could never happen.”
Eleanor looked at me. “Fix your makeup,” she said. “Jesse doesn’t want to have dinner with a raccoon.”
“Our moment of sentimentality has come to an end, I take it.” I laughed.
Just as I spoke I heard the doorbell ring. Jesse wasn’t due for another half hour so I knew it had to be Oliver. Eleanor winked at me and left the room. I listened as my grandmother went down the stairs and opened the door. I heard them greet each other, and I heard Oliver spend a few minutes playing with Barney. When Eleanor left him to get her purse, I went down the stairs.
“Nell,” he said. “You look beautiful. I take it you have plans with Jesse.”
“He’s taking me to dinner.”
“Where? Do you know?”
“He didn’t tell me.”
“I’m taking your grandmother to a French restaurant near my home. It’s quite romantic, and the food is almost as good as hers.”
“Sounds lovely,” I said.
“Well . . .” Oliver seemed nervous. “Wherever you go, I know Jesse will be proud to show you off.”
“Thanks, Oliver.” I blushed a little at the compliment, but I only had a moment and I didn’t want to waste it. “I happened to walk into the gallery they’re putting together at school. I had a chance to take a long look at Lost. It’s amazing. Who was the model?”
“You are incurable,” he said, a smile creeping across his face. “Someone in England. Years and years ago.”
“Was her name Violet?”
Oliver blinked slowly but said nothing. Eleanor walked in with her coat and purse. Oliver took the coat from her and held it out. As she put her arms into the sleeves, he wrapped his arms around her.
“Turquoise is your color,” he said to her.
They walked out the door and I watched them through the window. They held hands on their way to the car. He opened the car door for her. He even leaned in to give her a quick kiss before closing the passenger door.
A half hour later the doorbell rang again. I checked myself in the mirror, suddenly very excited about our date.
“Hey.” Jesse walked into the
house. “I’m starved. Are you hungry?” He walked past me into the hallway.
“Yes, I guess.”
“Do you want Italian or Greek or what?”
“I don’t care.”
“Where’s your coat?”
I was getting annoyed. “I look nice, by the way.” I pointed to my dress.
“I told you that you look nice.”
“When?”
“A bunch of times.” Jesse paced impatiently.
“When?”
“I don’t know, Nell. The last time I saw you,” he said. “Can we go?”
I grabbed my coat, but my heart wasn’t in this date anymore.
Jesse stabbed at his salad, grunting the occasional answer to my questions. After a while I gave up and ate my dinner as if I were alone. The restaurant was filled with happy couples chatting and holding hands across the table. Some looked nervous, maybe on a first date or about to propose. Some looked comfortable, like parents finally out for a night alone. Everyone was engaged in conversation except Jesse and me. Anyone looking at us would have assumed we were headed for divorce.
When I finished my coffee, I’d had enough.
“Can you drop me off at the shop?” I asked.
Jesse finally looked at me. “Why?”
“You’re kidding, right? You clearly do not want to be here. I might as well salvage the evening somehow.”
He reached over and grabbed my hand. “I’m sorry. I should have canceled.”
I pulled my hand away. “That’s your answer? What’s going on with you?”
Jesse leaned in. “I had a bad day today and I’ve clearly been unable to shake it.”
“Is it Allie?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s fine. It’s the case. I lost a piece of evidence.”
“Not possible. You would never lose evidence.”
“Thanks, but I might as well have lost it. Days ago I asked Greg to bring the watch he found to the lab for DNA testing. When someone wears a watch, their cells can come off onto the band. I figured it was a long shot but what the hell.”
“He lost the watch? He was so excited about having found it at the crime scene.”
Jesse seemed to be struggling to keep his voice low. “He not only lost the watch, he turned the whole thing into a circus. I found out that, instead of securing it in an evidence bag and bringing it to the lab, he’s been carrying that damn watch in his pocket. Then after I chewed him out, he begged for a second chance and I was stupid enough to give it to him.”
I knew Greg had been carrying the watch and I hadn’t said anything to Jesse, which made me feel suddenly part of a conspiracy against him. But that might have led to a discussion about the photo, and I couldn’t risk Jesse being as angry at me as he clearly was at Greg.
“I’m sure it will be okay,” I said in a feeble and useless attempt to calm him down.
“He put the watch into an evidence bag, and it was supposed to take him twenty minutes to get to the lab, but when he wasn’t back in two hours, I called his cell. He told me that first he ran into Maggie, coming out of the library, and they had a nice chat. Then he gave Kennette a ride from the shop to your place. And then, and I’m not sure why exactly, he went over to the Morristown Police Station to see if they needed anything taken to the lab.”
“Did he take it out of the car when he was talking to all those people?”
“Take it out? He was showing off. He wanted everyone to know he was lead detective on the case.”
“He didn’t say that. Greg is maybe a little excited—”
“He told Powell that he was lead detective,” Jesse said. “I look like a complete idiot. I had to listen to Powell tell me how important it was that evidence get to the lab right away. Thank God I took the fingerprint evidence from Sandra’s apartment into the lab for identification.” Jesse threw his napkin on the table. “I’m trying to conduct a murder investigation and I’ve got Barney Fife on the force.”
The whole idea made me laugh a little, or it would have if Jesse hadn’t been sitting there and the watch hadn’t been a possible clue to the identity of the killer.
“Maybe we should call it a night,” I said.
Jesse nodded and paid the bill.
Once outside the restaurant Jesse and I stood awkwardly. I didn’t know whether to say good night or continue the date.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I think it every time I see you.”
“Eleanor isn’t the only one with a romantic boyfriend.” I smiled.
“What?”
“Never mind.” I leaned in and kissed him lightly.
As I backed away, Jesse grabbed my hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Trying to make the best of a bad evening,” he said, and he kissed me.
“We can’t stand here, in the street, kissing,” I said. “It will be all over town tomorrow.”
He backed away. “Sorry.”
I smiled. “I’m not complaining about the idea, just the location.”
I took his hand and walked over to Someday Quilts.
The windows were covered with quilts, but we left the lights out anyway and walked to the classroom at the back. I took an old sample quilt off a pile of others and laid it on the floor.
“Should we be doing this?” Jesse said as we sat on the quilt.
“Don’t you know by now that I’m always doing things I shouldn’t?”
Even in the darkness I could see him smile. I leaned in to kiss him, and as I did I felt a shiver from his right side.
Jesse pulled away. “I have the phone on vibrate.” He blushed. “Sorry.” As he took the call I waited on the quilt, feeling more foolish than romantic. I wondered if it would be possible to get back to that feeling or whether we should call it a night. When he hung up the phone, I knew the question was irrelevant.
“You have to go,” I said.
“Rain check?”
I nodded. I sat in the darkness for a long time after he left, my head swimming with pictures—Oliver and Eleanor, Lily’s body on the ground, Sandra in the river, Kennette’s encounter with Greg. It was exhausting to try to make sense of it all, but it was still easier to think about than my stalled romance with Jesse.
Then I got up and walked to the office, where I had stashed my nearly finished Christmas quilt. I sat in the shop and hand sewed the binding to the back of the quilt, being careful to miter each corner as I had been taught. Sometime after one in the morning, I sewed the last stitch into the binding and cut a piece of cream fabric. I ironed the fabric to some fusible webbing and then to the quilt.
Using a fabric marker, I wrote: “Nell Fitgerald’s First Quilt.”
Then I pinned the quilt to the announcement board at the front of the shop and stepped back. There it was—proof that I was a quilter.
And a reminder that anything, no matter how scary it seems at first, can be sorted out if you take it step-by-step. I just wasn’t sure if I was thinking about quilting, the murder investigation, or my relationship with Jesse.
CHAPTER 30
I tried to sneak into the house at about two in the morning. The problem was that Barney had positioned himself right by the door and I had to push my way in.
“What’s going on, sweetie?” I asked as I patted his head. “Shouldn’t you be asleep upstairs?” He looked up at me, his eyes sad and tired. “You should go up because Grandma will miss you. She doesn’t like to sleep without you.”
Unless she wasn’t here.
I walked up the stairs, with Barney close behind. I could see that her bedroom door was open.
“Grandma?” I said quietly. “Are you in there?”
There was no answer. I turned on the light. Her bed was empty. The bed was made, with a star quilt covering it and another folded up at the foot. The pillows were fluffed and a throw pillow sat in the middle. It was clear that Eleanor had not yet come home.
“I guess she’s having a good
time,” I told Barney. I turned off Eleanor’s light and headed toward my own bed. As I did I heard a sound coming from Kennette’s room. I crept closer and listened. The light was out but it was obvious that Kennette was awake. I could hear her crying inside.
I opened her door and turned on the light. Barney walked into the room and jumped up on Kennette’s bed. She buried her face in his fur and continued crying.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She sat up and wiped tears from her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. Something is wrong.” I sat down on her bed. “Did something happen at Susanne’s tonight?”
She shook her head. “Susanne made roast chicken with baby potatoes. And Maggie brought key lime pie for dessert.”
“That sounds nice,” I said. “Did someone say something to you?” I was slightly panicked because I knew Kennette had been lured to Susanne’s house to be pumped for information. Maybe they had pushed too far.
“They were so nice. We talked about everything, and Susanne showed me her quilts. Did you know that Susanne has won awards for her quilts and that she used to be a beauty queen?”
I nodded. “So you had a good time? Then what’s the problem?” “I just feel guilty because . . .” Kennette paused, then closed her mouth tight as if she was trying to stop herself from saying something. “I just really want to do something to pay you all back for everything.”
I put my arm around her while Barney put his paws on her lap. “Believe me, I know how overwhelming it can be when everyone is so kind. But you don’t have to pay anyone back.”
“I guess.”
She grabbed hold of the quilt on her bed and pulled it a little closer. Instead of the pinwheel quilt that had been covering the bed, Kennette was using her almost-finished drunkard’s path. She seemed to have finished the quilting but not the binding.
As Barney moved around on the bed, I noticed that she had, as planned, put secret messages in the quilt. She had sewn a name. As I made a slight move to get a better look, Kennette snapped the quilt over her. But it was too late. I’d seen the name she’d sewn into her first quilt: Oliver White.
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