A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) (28 page)

“That was my plan, but I’m not sure it’s possible. Maybe I’ll just make a wall hanging from the panel and donate it at their next fundraiser. Then I can make something simpler for the shelter.”

“We should get some of whatever fabric Jo and Violet choose and take it to the shelter for the flower blocks Sarah’s going to do so they’ll all coordinate.”

“Good idea,” Harriet said and took another sip of her hot chocolate.

“I do have one every now and then, you know.”

“You know, I was thinking about Sarah. With Seth dead, I wonder how long she’ll be able to stay at the women’s shelter.”

Lauren picked at a thread on the edge of one of the quilt blocks.

“Having her stepdad trying to blame her for her stepbrother’s murder has to be some sort of mental abuse.”

“If that’s true,” Harriet said. “We’ve been told Howard is going to blame Sarah, but I’m not sure we have any evidence that he is.”

“Good point.”

“I say we worry about one thing at a time. Let’s go get Violet and Jo and see if we can figure out what Janice’s deal is.”

Lauren picked up her purse and messenger bag.

“Lead the way,” she said.

Harriet’s ruse to keep Janice from coming to the fabric store proved unnecessary. Violet and Jo were waiting alone in the lobby of the senior center, coats on and purses in hand, when she pulled into the pick-up/drop-off lane in front of the building.

“Are you two ready to go look at some fabric?” she asked when she joined them.

Violet smiled.

“Good morning, Harriet. I’m glad you decided we should go to the fabric store before lunch instead of after. I get sleepy after I eat.”

Jo scanned the lobby.

“Let’s get out of here before anyone sees us.”

“Is there a problem?” Harriet asked as she pressed the blue handicapped button next to the door. The double glass doors swung open.

“You can’t be too careful,” Jo told her. “You never know who might be watching.”

Lauren stood by the curb.

“That’s what I always say. Here, let me hold your purse while you get in.”

Harriet took Violet to the opposite side of the car and helped her in.

“Were there any repercussions after our last visit?” Harriet asked as she guided her car out of the senior center driveway.

“Pfft,” Jo scoffed. “Howard is so sure he’s smarter than everyone it doesn’t occur to him that someone could get past his defenses. He put an expensive pickproof lock on his office door and then carried the key around on a monogrammed ring in his pocket. Mickey made an impression with a bar of soap and had the key back in Howard’s pocket before he’d had a chance to miss it.”

“Speaking of Howard,” Harriet said, keeping her eyes on the road. “We’ve been doing a little research about Janice’s accident.”

“And you found out that Janice was investigating the death of Howard’s second wife,” Jo said before Harriet could continue.

“Was she?” Harriet shot back. “I was going to say he was driving the car when she had her accident.”

Lauren turned and looked at Jo in the back seat.

“We do find it a little curious that now she’s living at Howard’s facility. I’d like to know if we’re sure whose team she’s playing on.”

“Howard makes a big show of how guilty he feels,” Jo said. “He refers to the ‘terrible accident’ that put her in that chair and fawns over her. For her part, she doesn’t remember the accident or the time right before it. I tapped a few resources and did as much research as I dared do without raising suspicion, and here’s what I know.

“Janice was a pretty, young investigative journalist who showed up in Foggy Point for no known reason. It’s clear she entered into a personal relationship with Howard. What isn’t clear is if she was doing it to get information from him about his wife’s death or if she just succumbed to his charms. I’m sure, if he did have anything to do with Jill’s death, he wouldn’t be above using romance to throw her off the story.

Harriet made eye contact with Jo in the rearview mirror.

“I suppose she doesn’t talk about it.”

“She’d like to think she was working undercover, but she just doesn’t remember.”

“I never knew Janice back then,” Violet said sweetly. “But Howard’s wife Jill came to work at the hospital while I was a volunteer there. She was a nurse. I can’t remember if she was an RN or an LPN.” She thought for a moment then shook her head. “Well, that doesn’t matter. What I remember is that she was very accident-prone, if you know what I mean.”

Lauren turned to look at her.

“Just to be clear, why don’t you tell us what you mean?”

“Well, she ran into doorknobs and tripped on stairs—that sort of thing. Never at work, of course. She would come to work with a black eye or limping. I mean, really, how many people walk into a door more than once.”

Harriet glanced into the rearview mirror.

“Did you ask her about it?”

“Of course we did. You know how that goes, though. She made excuses and assured us we were wrong. She asked us not to make any trouble for her. It went unsaid that she was worried how much worse it might get if we did.”

“How did she die?” Harriet asked.

“We were told she committed suicide.”

“Except you don’t believe it?” Lauren said.

“What choice did we have but to believe it? I went to the hospital, and there was a sign at our station saying she’d died by her own hand and offering grief counseling to anyone who wanted it. They also had someone from the women’s shelter come talk to us about recognizing the signs of abuse and telling people what their options were if they were the one being abused, but it was locking the barn after the horse was stolen.”

The smile had left Violet’s face, and she sagged back into her seat when she was finished speaking.

Jo turned to her. “This would have been useful information to know before now.”

Tears filled Violet’s eyes, and Jo reached over and patted her hand.

“It’s okay. It wouldn’t have changed anything we’ve done so far.”

“Have you had any more thoughts about your fabric?” Harriet asked, ending the discussion about Howard and his dead wife.

The quilters at the senior center had decided to set their blocks on a green background, and Violet found a perfect fabric at Pins and Needles. Jo selected a yellow for the centers, and Harriet had Marjory cut enough of each for both the senior center and the women’s shelter and then had a yard and a half of each color cut for herself.

She wasn’t sure how well the memory care folks were going to be able to do their share of the blocks and wanted to be prepared in case the Loose Threads had to make extra blocks to be sure they could make a full-sized quilt.

“Are you sure you don’t mind driving to the Cafe on Smuggler’s Cove?” Jo asked when the women were back in the car. “I made us a reservation, but I could cancel if you don’t want to drive that far.”

Lauren held her hand up, her first and second fingers twined around each other.

“Harriet and Chef James are like this.”

Harriet turned in her seat and spoke to her back seat passengers.

“Don’t listen to her. I’m actually a substitute on his dog Cyrano’s support team. He is a racing wiener dog.”

Violet smiled. “Does that mean we’ll get chef’s specials for lunch?”

“I don’t know about that,” Harriet said and pulled her seatbelt on, “but anything he cooks is going to be fabulous.”

“Hey, Harriet,” James said as she followed Violet, Lauren and Jo into the restaurant. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have prepared something special.”

She pointed at a small sign standing on the maître’d’s desk.

“Looks like you did make something special.”

“Of course, but I’d have made something extra-special. “ James leaned in and gave her a quick hug.

“How’s the racer?”

He picked up four menus and signaled the women to follow him.

“I got this,” he said to his lunchtime hostess. “Cyrano is training hard and looking forward to his next set of qualifying races. I’ll tell him you asked.”

“Have the police figured out who vandalized your car?” Harriet asked.

“No. Not even a hint. Their best guess is random violence by disaffected youth.”

“Did you hear about the bombing at my house?”

“Are you kidding?” James stopped at a table with a view of the cove and pulled out chairs for Jo and Violet. “Everyone in Foggy Point is talking about it. I heard your car was safely in the garage. That’s good, at least.”

“Mine was totaled, thanks for asking,” Lauren said.