Patchwork Connections

by Carol Dean Jones

  “And his parole officer just might cut him some slack.” Charles said, smiling as he thought about how far out on a limb Blackburn had gone for Greyson.

  “What about that guy Tony?” Martha asked cautiously. “He’ll be locked up, right?”

  “He’ll be in the prison hospital for a day or two and then charged,” Amanda responded. “Montana will probably wait to see what happens to him here. He’s jumped parole there, but we have him on assault, false imprisonment, possibly kidnapping. They’ll put a retainer on him, so he’ll be sent back to them when we’re through with him. The guy won’t see the light of day for many years,” she added with a chuckle as she walked back toward the motel room. “You folks wait there.”

  Once the prisoners were taken away, Amanda walked her partner to his car, and they talked for a few minutes before he drove off. She then returned to her car. Martha was leaning against Charles, and he had a protective arm around her shoulder. “Put your seat belts on, folks. We’re headed home.”

  As she drove, Amanda leaned her head back to speak to Martha. “It looks like he brought you here sometime on Thursday. I’m glad you were still here in town, but what was he waiting for?”

  “He asked me if I had any money. That’s when I got the idea. I told him Mom has lots of money and that we should wait until she gets back from Chicago. I convinced him she would give us as much as we wanted.” Charles looked surprised that she would involve her mother, but Martha, sensing his concern, added, “I was worried about bringing her into it, but I was sure you two would be involved by then. I knew you would figure out what was happening. I was taking a chance, but this guy was a loose cannon, and I didn’t want him to leave the city with me.”

  “Good thinking, gal. Good thinking.”

  “How did you find me?”

  “Your stalker saw the guy grab you in front of your house.”

  “My stalker?” Martha responded looking confused.

  Charles told her about Jillian Fitzgerald. “Alan’s wife?” she exclaimed with disbelief. “Why in the world would she be stalking me?”

  “The green-eyed monster. She was obsessively jealous of you and Alan. She was sure you two were having an affair, and she followed you incessantly, determined to catch you.”

  “Why would she think that?”

  “Well, she was right about one thing. He was having an affair. And if she hadn’t spent all her time following you, she might have actually caught him with the right person.” He looked at her with a sly look as if he knew something she just might like to know.

  “And who might that be?” she asked coyly, willing to play his game now that she was safe and on her way home.

  “Your pretty blond administrative assistant!”

  “Sheila?”

  “You bet. And guess who’s been feeding Alan’s wife with all the false information about Alan and you?”

  “Sheila?”

  “Right again! And she even gave Jillian the key to your house so she could look for proof of the nonexistent affair!”

  “I wonder …” Martha began.

  “I know what you are wondering, and you are partially right! Now, she wasn’t the actual corporate mole. She’s not that smart. The mole was some computer jerk in Davis’ lab, but our little blond friend, Sheila, was feeding information to him as well.”

  “Why would she do all this?”

  “Your mother suspects that Sheila’s in love with Alan and was doing everything she could to discredit you and break up his marriage,” Charles explained.

  Amanda, in the front seat, was listening to the entire conversation and smiling. “Your mom is one smart puppy!”

  Chapter 37

  “They’re here,” Sarah shouted, rushing out the front door. She had been elated since Charles called her from the motel to tell her Martha was safe. She spoke to her daughter briefly, but their sobs of joy were so intense that they could barely understand one another.

  “Wait! Put your coat on,” Sophie called after her. “It’s freezing out there!” Tim grabbed Sarah’s coat and quickly followed her toward the squad car. Charles hopped out and ran around the car to open the door for Martha. Amanda got out and smiled at Sarah who was hurrying toward the car with Tim right behind her trying to help her on with her coat as she walked.

  “Slow down,” he said. “I can’t get your arm in!”

  “Mama!” Martha cried out. She ran into her mother’s arms and they both laughed and cried simultaneously.

  “You’re safe,” Sarah whispered in her daughter’s ear. “You’re safe now!”

  As the group walked toward the house, Sophie appeared at the door wiping her hands on the apron Sarah had loaned her. “Get in this house before you all freeze,” she demanded, looking stern despite the tears that had welled up in her eyes. She reached out and gently patted Martha’s shoulder.

  “Welcome home, honey.” She said. “Come on in and curl up in one of your mother’s quilts. I’ll fix you a nice cup of hot cocoa.” As always, Sophie was ready with her usual solution to life’s stresses—food. She had baked two enormous apple tarts while they were waiting for Charles and Martha. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the kitchen. The teapot was threatening to whistle at any moment, and warmed milk for cocoa was steaming on the stove.

  Amanda seemed to be hesitant about following them into the house, but Sarah called to her, “Come on in, Amanda. You’re part of this reunion.”

  “Thank you, Sarah,” she responded somewhat reticently. As she got closer to Sarah, she added softly, “I hate to say this, but I need to get some information from Martha. Do you mind if I take her aside for just a few minutes? Then I can call my partner at the station with these last few details. He offered to do the paperwork so I could be here with you folks.

  “Absolutely. Let’s get that out of the way first. Why don’t you use the guest room. There’re several chairs in there and the futon in case Martha wants to lay down.” Turning to Martha who already had a quilt around her shoulders, Sarah said, “Amanda needs to talk with you for a few minutes. You two can use the guest room.”

  Martha smiled weakly, dreading having to go over the details, but she knew it was necessary. “I’ll be right there,” she called to Amanda, stopping first to hug Charles and whisper, “Thank you, Charles. You’re the best.”

  “I love you, sweetie. Now, go take care of business so we can all relax.”

  Once Martha finished talking with Amanda and relaxed for a while with her family and friends, Sarah asked her if she wanted to go home. She was afraid that all the commotion was too much for her. “I’ll take you home if you would rather be there. You must be exhausted,” Sarah said, hoping Martha would refuse the offer.

  “I’m exhausted, that’s for sure. But, I’m also very relaxed. I really don’t want to be alone just yet.”

  “Do you want me to stay with you for a day or two?” Sarah asked. “I could …”

  Martha interrupted her mother saying, “I would love to just stay here for a few days if it’s okay with you. I feel so safe here.”

  Sarah grinned and sat down next to Martha on the couch, slipping her arm around her daughter’s shoulder. “I would love to have you stay here with me for as long as you want to stay!” She looked at Charles, and he knew she was overjoyed at the idea of having her daughter home with her.

  Later that afternoon, the doorbell rang and Jennifer walked in followed by Jason carrying little Alaina. “I need to give my sister a hug,” Jason said handing the baby to Sarah.

  A few minutes later, the doorbell rang again. This time, a young boy stood there holding a pile of pizza boxes. Charles hurried to the door and handed the boy some bills. “Dinner is served,” he announced, heading for the kitchen with his pizza boxes.

  Holding her granddaughter close to her heart, Sarah looked around the room. She had her entire family and her most precious friends all in one room. After a few long days of worried desperation, she felt nothing but love and joy.
/>
  * * * * *

  Later that evening, Sarah walked out of the kitchen wearing a mischievous smile. Charles was right behind her with a bottle of red wine in one hand and white in the other. “Who’s ready for a refill?” he asked with the grin of a proud Cheshire cat spread across his face.

  He turned toward Sarah and asked, “Shall we?” She nodded.

  Turning to the group, Sarah announced, “We’d like for all our friends and family to join us on New Year’s Eve for a gala party.” She hesitated for a moment, and then added, “We’ll be celebrating the New Year at the community center with music and dancing, a catered dinner, champagne, and,” Sarah added with a happy glow, “… a midnight wedding!”

  The cheer that went up in the room could be heard up and down the block.

  MEMORIES OF HOME

  The Friday Night Quilters loved the idea of making an Amish quilt for Ruth. This 61˝ × 72¼˝ quilt, with its combination of black and solids, is a classic example of the Amish style.

  MATERIALS

  Assorted solid colors: To total 4½ yards

  Black: 3¼ yards (⅞ yard for blocks, ½ yard for inner border, 1¼ yards for outer border, ⅝ yard for binding)

  Middle border: ⅓ yard

  Backing: 3⅞ yards

  Batting: 69˝ × 80˝

  Project Instructions

  Seam allowances are ¼˝. WOF = width of fabric.

  MAKE THE BLOCKS

  1. For 1 block, cut 6 strips 2⅜˝ × 6˝, 3 strips each from a light and a dark fabric. (For multiple same-color blocks, see Step 5.)

  2. Sew together 2 strip sets of 3 strips each, alternating light and dark: 1 set of light-dark-light strips and another set of dark-light-dark strips. Press toward the dark.

  3. Cut the strip sets into 2⅜˝ sections.

  4. Sew together 3 sections, matching the light to the dark and nesting the seams. Press.

  5. Follow Steps 1–4 to make the number of blocks you need for any colorway. For example, 5 green/pink blocks multiplied by 6˝ requires 30˝-long strips. Make a total of 80 blocks in any color combinations you want.

  Make Nine-Patch blocks.

  MAKE THE BORDERS

  1. For the inner border: Cut 6 strips 2⅜˝ × WOF. Join the strips end to end. Press. Subcut 2 strips 2⅜˝ × 56¾˝ for the sides and 2 strips 2⅜˝ × 49¼˝ for the top and bottom.

  2. For the middle border: Cut 6 strips 1⅝˝ × WOF. Join the strips end to end. Press. Subcut 2 strips 1⅝˝ × 60½˝ for the sides and 2 strips 1⅝˝ × 51½˝ for the top and bottom.

  3. For the outer border: Cut 7 strips 5½˝ × WOF. Join the strips end to end. Press. Subcut 2 strips 5½˝ × 62¾˝ for the sides and 2 strips 5½˝ × 61½˝ for the top and bottom.

  ASSEMBLE AND FINISH THE QUILT

  1. Sew 8 blocks together into a row. Press. Make 10 rows.

  2. Sew the rows together. Press.

  3. Sew the inner borders to each side. Press. Sew the inner borders to the top and bottom. Press.

  4. Sew the middle borders to each side. Press. Sew the middle borders to the top and bottom. Press.

  5. Sew the outer borders to each side. Press. Sew the outer borders to the top and bottom. Press.

  6. Layer the pieced top with batting and backing. Quilt and bind as desired.

  Turn the page for a preview of the next book in A Quilting Cozy series.

  Preview of Stitched Together

  It was drizzling the day they arrived in Paris. Charles held the umbrella, and Sarah gripped his arm, snuggling against him as they walked. “I’m glad we waited until now,” she said, looking up at her husband of four months with a twinkle in her eye.

  Charles wrapped his arm around her and pulled her even closer. “I’m just glad we’re finally here.” They’d been planning their honeymoon for several months but had decided to wait for warm weather. They were married during one of the worst snowstorms the Midwest had seen for years and decided it was no time to be at the mercy of the airlines.

  It was early spring and, despite the light rain, Sarah found Paris to be breathtaking.

  Earlier that day, they had taken a cab from the airport to their hotel in Montmartre. The driver offered to give them a quick sightseeing tour through the downtown area and past the Louvre; along the way, he pointed out popular shops, the museums, and bridges crossing the Seine to the Left Bank.

  Their hotel was situated above the city, halfway up the hill leading to the Sacré-Coeur. From their fifth-floor window, Sarah could look out over the rooftops of the city. “What an awesome view,” she exclaimed when Charles joined her at the window. Their room was spacious and comfortably decorated, although they knew they probably wouldn’t spend much time there considering all the sightseeing they had planned.

  Sarah picked up a brochure that described several nearby restaurants and cafés, along with a list of things to do in Paris and a street map. But after scanning the brochure, she realized that ten days might not be enough time to see all the things they hoped to see.

  After getting settled and freshened up, they left the hotel on foot. Glancing down at the map she was carrying, Sarah commented, “Paris is much smaller than I realized. I think we can walk to most things.”

  “It’s not quite that small, but we can use the metro and cabs,” he responded. “How about grabbing some lunch?” Charles asked cheerfully as he picked up the pace.

  “Hey! I’m taking three steps for every one of yours,” she teased. “Slow down!”

  “Sorry,” he responded, pulling her close and attempting to adapt to her pace.

  “And,” she added, “I don’t think one grabs lunch in Paris. I believe the French have developed the art of savoring their meals.”

  They stopped at a café up the street from their hotel and were led to a small round table near the window. Charles reached across the table and took her hand. “Are you happy?”

  “Ecstatic!” Sarah giggled with the excitement of a child at a theme park. “But I’m trying to act my age,” she added, attempting to present a demeanor more in keeping with her years. Seventy years old and a blushing bride, she thought. Her face became flushed at the thought.

  It had been twenty years since her husband, Jonathan, had died, and she had become accustomed to her life as a widow. A few years ago, she had retired and moved to a retirement community, Cunningham Village, where she made friends, learned to quilt, and was enjoying her independence. And then she met Charles.

  Charles was a detective, retired from the local police department. A serious stroke brought him to Cunningham Village, where he spent many months in their rehab center before settling into one of their apartments that offered assisted living. He no longer needed special services and was totally independent when he met Sarah, but he had decided to continue living in the community. He fell in love with Sarah the day they met.

  In fact, Charles would tell you he fell in love with her long before that. He was the police officer who notified Sarah that her husband had suffered a fatal accident on the job. Charles never forgot this lovely, gentle woman, but she had been too grief-stricken to be aware of him back then.

  “Look!” Sarah exclaimed, pointing toward the sky. “It’s stopped raining, and I think the sun’s coming out.”

  “What would you like to do today?” Charles asked as the waitress was serving their drinks.

  “I’d like to walk. I want to get to know Paris, and there’s no better way! Let’s start with the Sacré-Coeur.” Handing him the map she added, “It’s only a short walk from here, and it overlooks the city.”

  “It’s a short walk, all uphill,” Charles responded with a chuckle.

  “But then it’s downhill coming back,” she replied with a reassuring twinkle in her eye.

  The young waitress arrived with their lunches and refilled their wine glasses from the decanter of chardonnay that had been placed between them. Charles had ordered Provençal slow-roasted pork and pommes frites, which he later learned was a very fancy way of saying frenc
h fries. Sarah, wanting to experience something new, ordered a goat cheese salad served with raspberry honey dressing and a French baguette. “No escargot?” Charles asked teasingly.

  “Not yet, but I’ll get there before the week is over.” The couple enjoyed a relaxed meal, savoring the food and enjoying the atmosphere.

  “Are you ready to climb the hill?” she asked as they left the café.

  “Ready and able,” he responded, pulling the map out of his breast pocket. “I think we should head up past that cemetery and pick up Rue de la Bonne. It looks like that street goes right up to the Basilica.” As they walked along the cobblestone sidewalk, signs confirmed that they had chosen well. Suddenly the narrow cobblestone road took a left turn and opened up at the foot of the Sacré-Coeur Basilica, which loomed high above them.

  “Magnificent!” Sarah gasped, not prepared for the splendor of the architecture. As they climbed the multitude of steps up to the portico, they both became very quiet, respecting the sacredness of their surroundings. Once inside, they sat in the opulent sanctuary and held hands without speaking. Sarah had tears in her eyes as they walked to the marble steps leading up to the dome.

  Looking out over Paris, Sarah revised her earlier statement. “I guess it’s not as small as I thought it was,” she said, gazing over the mass of rooftops spreading out in all directions. “Is that the Seine I see over there, just beyond the Eiffel Tower?” she asked, pointing toward what appeared to be water snaking through the city.

  “Yes, and I want to spend our last night in Paris drifting down the Seine on a romantic dinner cruise,” Charles said, pulling her close to him.

  Sarah nodded enthusiastically adding, “And I want to walk across the bridges in the rain like they do in the movies!”

  Charles laughed. “And I’ll sing and dance with a cane and a top hat!”

  By the time they returned to their hotel room, neither was interested in walking over a bridge or anywhere else. Their feet hurt from their new shoes, and Charles’ arthritis in his right hip was causing him discomfort. They had dinner sent up to their room, and they stretched out on the bed watching The Expendables, with Arnold Schwarzenegger speaking French. Charles seemed to be enjoying it. As Sarah turned over and closed her eyes, she muttered, “You owe me one chick flick.”