Patchwork Connections

by Carol Dean Jones

  The tow truck was just pulling into her street when they arrived. Martha got out and waved to the driver; she then turned to Alan, thanking him for the ride and assuring him she would be fine. She wasn’t sure how she’d get back to work if the car didn’t start, but she didn’t want to keep up the facade with Alan. He shrugged and reluctantly drove off.

  As suspected, it was the battery, and within a couple of hours Martha was back in the office. She immediately closed her door and pulled out her schedule. She had missed a meeting with her own staff which Sheila had taken the initiative to cancel, knowing Martha would be out. She decided to take the time to call Officer Holmes.

  “Holmes,” the officer answered.

  “Officer Holmes, this is Martha Miller returning your call.”

  “I’m glad you called,” she responded enthusiastically. First of all, when I met with you a few weeks ago, I had no idea you were Sarah’s daughter. Sarah and I’ve become great quilting friends. She didn’t tell me a thing about your situation until today!”

  “That’s because she didn’t know. I just told her about it. Did she call you?”

  “Yes, and I’m glad she did. She filled me in on what happened recently. I pulled the reports and would like to come over and talk with you. When would be a good time for you?”

  Martha said she could be free whenever the officer wanted to come, and they decided on that evening after work. “Would it be okay to have mother and Charles there too?” Martha asked.

  “It’s fine with me as long as you can speak freely in front of them. I really need to know the entire story.”

  “That’s not a problem anymore, and I’m sorry now that I kept it from them for so long. They are being very supportive. …”

  “You can’t go wrong with those two on your side!” Amanda said laughing. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Chapter 24

  “So our children are dating, my Timmy and your Martha. What will that make us if they get married?” Sophie was sitting with Sarah in the café and biting into a cream-filled cherry Danish as she asked the question.

  “I guess we’d be in-laws of some sort, but that scenario is very unlikely. My Martha is quite down on men right now.”

  “Including my Timmy?” Sophie asked indignantly as she wiped the cream off her chin.

  “Well, maybe not your Timmy specifically, but the male species in general.”

  “How did the meeting with Amanda go?”

  “Charles and I mostly listened while Martha caught Amanda up on all the details about Greyson and Derek. Then she told her about this mess at her work, most of which I was unaware of.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “It’s not clear. Someone has leaked critical information to the press and they have been looking closely at Martha.”

  “Martha! Why Martha?”

  “There was something about a missing file, and last week they got in a tailspin when they discovered the $25,000 I had given her from my inheritance.”

  “What do they care?”

  “They didn’t believe her story about where it came from. Martha told me they’re looking for evidence that someone is being paid by a competitor. I had to go into a lawyer’s office and show proof of the transfer. They even wanted me to verify where I got the money!”

  “The nerve!” Sophie huffed as she broke off a piece of Sarah’s untouched Danish. “But what does all this have to do with the stalker?”

  “Amanda is just trying to identify anyone who might have a reason to be following Martha. She seems to think it might all be related.”

  “So, what are we going to do to get to the bottom of this mess?” Sophie asked, pushing her plate away and looking eager to get started playing detective.

  “Charles said that we are absolutely not to get involved in the investigation. He even got Amanda to side with him. They both said ‘leave this to the professionals!’”

  “Humph! So where do we start?” Sophie responded, totally ignoring Charles’ and Amanda’s restrictions.

  “I was thinking we could follow Derek. That way we can determine …”

  “You can determine what?” the deep voice approaching the table bellowed.

  “Oh! Hi, Charles. We weren’t expecting you.”

  “Obviously! So, what is it you plan to determine by following Derek?” Charles was frowning and clearly displeased. Not giving them a chance to explain, he continued, “Didn’t you listen to a word of what Amanda said? You two are to stay totally out of the investigation. Do you understand?”

  Charles immediately knew he had gone too far. Sarah was glaring at him, and Sophie’s feathers were clearly ruffled. “Now just a minute …” Sophie started to speak, but Sarah interrupted.

  “I will not be spoken to in that tone!” She stood and turned to Sophie, “Come on. We’re leaving.” With that, she headed straight to the door while Sophie flounced behind.

  “Did you pay the bill?” Sophie asked.

  “He wants to be the big man in charge? Well, he can pay the bill! Let’s go to your house and plan our strategy. Do you think Tim will help?”

  * * * * *

  “So, Tim, how is it that you never got married?” Tim and Martha had returned to Larochelle’s, the Italian restaurant that was quickly becoming their favorite dinner spot. It was a relief for Martha to get away from the company interrogators, Amanda’s questions, her family’s concerns, and especially the black car. She took a big sip of her wine and gazed at Tim, waiting for his response.

  “Just never got the chance, I guess. Woman are scarce along the pipeline,” then he added looking a little embarrassed, “at least the marrying kind if you know what I mean.”

  “No girlfriends even?” Martha asked, continuing to press the issue.

  Tim remained quiet at first but then sighed deeply. “Yes, there was this one girl. It was a long time ago, back when I was young. I was working the pipeline out of Fairbanks at the time, and Betsy did office work for the big shots.”

  “Tell me about her,” Martha said, eager to know more about his life.

  “She was born in Alaska. Her folks lived off the grid an hour or so south of Fairbanks by train. She and I hung out together for a couple of years enjoying the Fairbanks city life. I’d been pretty isolated up north in the construction camps before that.” He hesitated and took a sip of his wine.

  “What do you mean by ‘off the grid’?”

  “Off-gridders are those self-sufficient folks who decide to do it on their own. They move away from modern conveniences and live an isolated life off the land. Up in Alaska, some of the off-gridders build their cabins a mile or two from the train tracks.”

  “Why along the tracks?” Martha asked trying to picture life in such a remote place.

  “That’s so they can get around. There aren’t that many roads, and they’re often impassable in the winter. Off-gridders will walk or take snow machines out to the tracks. The Alaska Railroad passenger train will stop for them just like a bus would in the city. They ride up the tracks to the next town and get provisions or whatever and then catch the train back later that day.”

  “Anyway, we were together for a couple of years. A couple of times, I went with her to visit her folks. Once we stayed two weeks when her dad was sick. It’s a hard life for sure.”

  “That’s fascinating! Tell me what it was like out there.”

  “Well, they had a small cabin, just a couple of rooms. Solar panels and a wood stove. No electricity, of course. No plumbing. You’re really roughing it to live like that. Betsy seemed perfectly comfortable while we were there. I guess she grew up that way, but this ol’ city boy had some problems with it.” Martha liked the way he smiled from one side of his mouth when he talked.

  “How did her folks manage out there all those years? Did her dad work?”

  “He fished and hunted. They farmed in the summer and her mom canned food for the winter. We were there in the early fall, and they had the cold cellar full of canned foo
d and the smoke house was packed with meat.”

  The waiter stopped at their table and they ordered coffee and dessert. Martha would have been happy to split something, but Tim was a voracious eater, so she ordered her own dessert, knowing he could eat his and part of hers, as well.

  “I’m having trouble picturing how they got along without plumbing,” Martha said hesitantly. “I’m sure you can carry in water from a well, but what about …”

  “They have outhouses,” Tim responded, anticipating her question. “And that reminds me of a funny story! Betsy’s dad stepped out of their privy one night and stood face to face with a bear. He was lucky; the bear turned and took off. The next day her dad took his tools out back and yanked the door off the outhouse so he could always see what’s coming, and from that day on he carried a shotgun with him whenever he headed for the latrine.”

  “So there was no door for you either!” Martha said laughing.

  “Nope. I carried his ol’ shotgun too,” he said with a wide grin.

  “So what happened to you and Betsy?”

  Tim looked down and continued in a more serious tone. “That next winter, her dad died. Her mother was talking about moving down to Anchorage to live with her married daughter, but Betsy knew she didn’t want to leave the cabin. Betsy decided to quit her job and move into the cabin with her mother at least for a while.” He took a sip of his coffee and looked away without meeting Martha’s eyes. “She wanted me to go with her, but …”

  “You didn’t want to go?”

  “Mainly, I didn’t want to leave my job on the pipeline, but also the life of an off-gridder was just too tough for me. I like being around people, and I need those modern conveniences we enjoy! I guess I’m spoiled.”

  Martha thought with a smile that his definition of ‘modern conveniences’ after a life on America’s last frontier was probably much different from hers after a life in Manhattan.

  Tim continued, “It was hard telling her I wasn’t going with her. We’d been living together in a small apartment on the outskirts of Fairbanks, and I think she felt we’d be making a life together. Something about it just wasn’t right though. We were very different people. I wasn’t right for her any more than she was right for me.”

  Martha sat silently as he talked, not sure what to say but knowing it was a difficult story for him to tell.

  “I moved back into the barracks and shortly after that I was moved farther south along the pipeline. It just seemed better all around. She stayed on at the cabin, I understand, and eventually married a local guy who knew the ropes better than I did. I’m sure she’s doing just fine. She’s a tough lady.”

  Martha liked the kindness in his eyes when he talked about people. He had lived his entire adult life in isolated areas with limited contacts other than the pipeline workers, but he seemed to have developed a deep understanding of people. He’s a good man, she told herself later that night as she thought about their evening.

  As she was falling asleep, it occurred to her that the black car was never around when she was with Tim. Curious, she thought as she drifted off.

  Chapter 25

  “Sarah, I need your help!” The pleading voice coming out of Sarah’s answering machine hadn’t left a name, but Sarah was sure it was Ruth. She had just returned from taking Barney for a walk. She was cold and took the time to pour a hot cup of coffee before returning the call.

  “Hi, Ruth. Are you the person who needs my help?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Did I forget to leave my name? I’m sorry. I’m in such a dither!”

  “What’s going on, Ruth?”

  “My application has been approved, and I need to get packed up and ready to leave in three days!”

  “Packed up? Leave? Where are you going?”

  “Didn’t I tell you? I applied to be a vendor at the Midwest quilt show in Chicago. I’ve been on the waiting list and someone just cancelled. I really don’t want to miss this opportunity, but the show starts this Friday!”

  “That’s exciting, Ruth, but where do I fit in?”

  “I want you there with me!”

  Sarah had to sit down. This was no time for her to be away, what with Martha’s problems. But then, Charles had told her to stay out of the investigation, and it looked like being out of town would be the only way she could keep out of it. She and Sophie had already made tentative plans to get involved. She decided she would talk to Sophie and Martha about being away.

  “Ruth, give me a couple of hours, and I’ll call you with an answer. I’m just not sure. …”

  “Sarah, please …!” Ruth begged. “I really do need you. Anna can’t leave the baby, and with Katie in school, I don’t have anyone who knows the ropes. Please consider coming with me, all expenses paid and salary to boot! Please?”

  “Ruth, I promise I’ll give this serious thought. I just have to check out a couple of conflicts. I’ll call you before you close the shop this afternoon.”

  “Okay. I guess that’s all I can expect since I’m springing this on you at the last minute. When I didn’t hear from them, I just assumed I hadn’t been approved. Getting this at the last minute really threw me. Call me later.”

  Sarah returned the phone to its cradle and sat back down. She thought about how she had changed over the years. When she was younger, it had been easy to change gears, but as the years went by it became harder for her to make quick decisions and sudden changes in her plans.

  She was worried about Martha, but Amanda was investigating the stalker and Charles was contacting Greyson’s parole officer. Realistically, what could I be doing for her right now if I stayed in town? She and Sophie had talked about following Derek for a few days to see if they could catch him in Martha’s neighborhood, but Charles had been adamantly opposed to that. And, even if they decided to do it, it didn’t need to be done immediately. They could wait to see what Charles and Amanda learned.

  Sarah picked up the phone and dialed Sophie. “I need to talk. May I come over?”

  “I’ll put the kettle on.”

  Sarah grabbed the leash and surprised a sleeping Barney by immediately hooking it on his collar and announcing, “Let’s go, Sleepyhead.” Barney stood up and shook, getting his straggly fur relatively presentable. He then realized what was happening and wagged his tail eagerly. They hurried across the street and rang Sophie’s doorbell before the kettle had time to whistle.

  “How do you like my new doorbell?” Sophie asked as they came in from the cold. “Tim is mighty handy!” she added with a proud smile. “You know, he’s talking about retiring and moving back here.”

  Sarah looked surprised, wondering what affect that would have on Martha. “Soon?” she asked.

  “No. But maybe sometime this year.”

  “That would be wonderful, Sophie. I know you would love having him around.”

  Ignoring Sarah’s comment, Sophie placed two cups of tea on the table and asked, “So what’s this big emergency?”

  Sarah told her friend about Ruth’s dilemma and her own. “I’m just uncomfortable about leaving Martha right now. It was hard for her to tell me about her problems, and it just doesn’t seem right for me to turn around and leave town!”

  “Stop the dramatics!” Sophie said, waving her hand dismissively. “Martha’s a big girl. All you have to do is explain to her that you’ll be away for a few days. She’ll survive.”

  “But …”

  “No! Just because your girl decided after twenty years to take you into her confidence doesn’t mean she is permanently attached to your apron strings. Martha may need your emotional support, but your friend Ruth needs real help … help that you know how to give.”

  “That’s true, but …”

  “And you can still provide emotional support to your daughter. Call her. Call her every few hours if you need to. Just let her know you care. That’s really all she’s asking for. She doesn’t expect you to solve her problems.” Sophie was frowning and got up from the table, turning he
r back to Sarah.

  Sarah was stunned at the intensity of Sophie’s response. Usually Sophie was quick to joke about most things, and it surprised her to hear the seriousness in her voice.

  “What is it, Sophie? Are you upset with me about something?”

  “Not with you,” Sophie responded after a short hesitation. “Not with you. It just hurts me to see you missing out on something you want to do when Martha has been so hurtful to you over the years.”

  “Hurtful? I never thought of Martha as being particularly hurtful. I certainly wasn’t happy with her when she practically forced me to sell my home and move here, but I’m glad now because I have a whole new life now.” Sarah looked at Sophie and saw that tears were beginning to form in her eyes.

  “Sophie. Talk to me! What’s going on?”

  Sophie sat back down and pulled her apron up to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not you, and it’s probably not even Martha that’s bothering me. I just see the same thing with Timmy. He’s been essentially out of my life for thirty years and here he is back, acting as if nothing ever happened. Over the years, I’ve cried myself to sleep many nights missing my son and my husband. …” Her shoulders began to sag as she hid her face in her hands.

  Sarah wanted to say something comforting but knew there was nothing she could say to make it better. Both of their children had gone on with their lives and rightly so. They had been raised to be competent, productive adults, and that’s exactly what they were. She laid her hand on Sophie’s shoulder and gently rubbed soothingly. “Watching the next generation move on is never easy,” she said gently and then added, “but we both know that good parents never hang onto their children just to avoid being left behind.”

  Sarah wished she could give Sophie a comforting hug but knew how she felt about such displays of affection. “Soppy nonsense,” she had often said. To her surprise, Sophie stood and put her arms around Sarah giving her an awkward squeeze. “Thanks for listening,” she said softly, but straightening up suddenly adding, “Now where’s that chocolate cake?”