Quilt As Desired (22 page)

"He's not my boyfriend.” He could be the reason I'm here, she added to herself.

"If he's not your boyfriend, he should be,” she said. “He hasn't left your side since you've been here. That's not easy to find in a man.” She wrote some numbers on Harriet's chart and left again.

Harriet knew all about men who left. But the nurse was wrong. She didn't need a boyfriend, especially one who kept showing up without an excuse.

She lay in her bed and listened to the rhythmic rise and fall of Aiden's breath. She must have dozed off again, because the next time she looked at the window bright light was streaming in.

"Welcome back,” Aiden said. He was sitting in the wheeled chair beside her bed again. He held a cup of something steaming in his right hand. He swept the hair off her forehead with his left hand, his fingers trailing along the side of her face. “How do you feel?"

She moved her head away from his hand. The area of the lump was still tender, but no nausea greeted her movement.

"Better,” she said. “What happened to me?” she asked for a second time. “This time I want the long version."

"I'd like to hear that one, too,” Officer Nguyen said from the door. “I stopped by to question you last night, but you were...” He paused. “...busy."

Harriet moaned. She didn't remember much about last night, but she did know it had taken more than one dose of the anti-nausea drug before she had fallen into a drugged slumber.

"Let's start with Ms Truman's story. You can wait in the hall till I call you,” he said to Aiden. He pulled the visitor's chair up and sat down. His spicy cologne filled the room with its masculine scent.

Harriet recounted the events from the night before. She started with her arrival at Aunt Beth's house and ended with waking in the hospital.

"So, let's back up a little further,” Nguyen said. “It would seem that a lot of people knew you were staying with Ms Willis. Who knew you were going back to your house?"

She thought for a minute. “Mavis, of course. Lauren Sawyer—I was there to work on her quilt. Someone had damaged it at the show in Tacoma, and we were repairing it.” She closed her eyes. “Sarah Ness. I had just taken her quilt off the machine when...” She trailed off.

"When you were attacked?” Officer Nguyen suggested. “Was there anyone else?"

"Aiden Jalbert. Mavis called him when she couldn't get hold of me—wait. I told him at the memorial that I was going to be working on Lauren's project. Oh, and Harold Minter. I went to coffee with him after the memorial service.” And Misty, she thought. She'd told her she had fabric for her at home. Maybe Misty had decided to take her up on it.

"Can you think of anyone else?"

"The quilt group all rode to the memorial service together. It wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility that they talked about it on their way home."

"So, what do you have that someone wants bad enough to break into your home twice for?"

"If I knew that, I'd be the first to tell you. As near as I can tell, they didn't take anything when they trashed the place. They ruined a few quilts and messed up a bunch of stuff."

"Who would benefit if the quilts were damaged?"

"No one. Well, the other quilt groups in the show, I guess. Lauren, maybe. I just can't believe anyone wants to win the competition that bad. It's not like there's some big prize. It's mainly about bragging rights."

"Someone wanted something bad enough to come back for a second look.” He stood up. “Okay, Mr. Jalbert, you can come in now."

Aiden returned and sat in the visitor's chair. Officer Nguyen moved to the wide windowsill.

"Start with what you were doing before you went to Ms Truman's."

"I was at my apartment—I have a studio over the vet clinic on Main Street. I was picking up my dog. I'd left her in the outside kennel at the clinic while I was at my mom's funeral. I took Randy for a walk around the block and had just poured her some kibbles when my phone rang."

"Did you talk to anyone, see anyone?"

"Only the dog,” he said with a tight smile. “The phone rang, I put Randy back outside and went to check on Harriet. I passed the ambulance on my way up the hill. I'm sure your buddies told you what I did after I got to the house."

Officer Nguyen shut his notebook. “They did,” he said. “I'm sure we'll have more questions for you later, but this is enough for now.” He turned back to Harriet. “We'll have patrol cars swing by your house a couple of times a night, but I strongly recommend that you continue to stay with Ms Willis until we catch the guy that did this to you."

"Okay, everybody out,” a square-shouldered doctor with a thin sandy-colored ponytail said from the door. “How are you feeling this morning, young lady?"

Harriet tried to smile. “Better than when I came in."

"You were lucky your friend found you so quickly. Ether is nasty stuff. It's pretty easy to overdo it. And they apparently left you facedown. You weren't breathing too well when we got you. Luckily, it wears off with time, and we gave you a few things to help the process. You should have no lasting effects. You were fortunate you didn't hit the bump on your head again.

"You did pop a stitch, though, which probably happened when they were putting the oxygen mask on you. I'd like to go ahead and do a little repair on that, and then I think we can let you out of here."

A nurse came in, and the doctor did a more thorough check of her vital signs then repaired the wound on the back of her head.

He left, and Mavis came in, alone. Apparently, Aiden had gone without a backward glance.

"Oh, honey,” Mavis said. “I knew I shouldn't have let you go to your house alone."

"It's not your fault. I'm a big girl. Besides, it makes no sense that someone would come and drug me. How could you have anticipated that?"

"My mama radar was working overtime. I knew you shouldn't go there, and I went ahead and let you go alone. Your aunt Beth is gonna kill me."

"It's done and I'm fine, so how about we work on getting me out of here?"

Mavis held out a paper bag. “The police took your clothes as evidence. The nurse said I should bring you an outfit, or they would be sending you home in scrubs."

Harriet took the bag. She pulled out a new pair of jeans, a pink T-shirt and a purple sweatshirt. She could see packages of new socks and underwear in the bottom of the bag.

"What's this?” she asked.

"I wasn't about to go back to your house alone. I took a run to the Wal-Mart. You needed more clothes anyway."

Harriet appreciated the effort, but she vowed to go shopping somewhere else as soon as she was able. Her old clothes may have been loose and black, but they were designer label loose and black.

"You didn't need to go to so much trouble, but thank you."

She eased herself to the edge of the bed and stood up. She'd been to the bathroom with the nurse earlier and had learned after a few missteps that moving slow was the key. She slowly changed out of the hospital gown and, with a little help from Mavis, got dressed.

"Doctor wants to see you in a week,” the nurse said when she came with the requisite wheelchair. “And you need to take it easy for a few days. Try not to come in through the back door again,” she said with a smile.

Mavis was waiting in the Town Car when the young Hispanic attendant wheeled Harriet out.

"Nice ride,” he said with a smile that flashed a gold tooth.

"Yeah, isn't it?"

The young man set the brake and held Harriet's arm as she got out of the chair and into the car.

"Thanks,” she said and waved as they drove off. She lowered her window when they were underway. The air was heavy with the salty smell of open water, and she breathed deep. The moist air made her feel stronger.

"I'm taking you right home,” Mavis said.

"I need to go to Aunt Beth's."

"No way. We're going home and only home."

"I have to get Fred. I can't just leave him. Aiden locked him in the kitchen. He's probably scared. It'll be fine. There are two of us, and the police are driving by often in case anyone comes back."

"We just get the cat, and then we go home,” Mavis insisted.

Harriet didn't argue. She had every intention of looking around her studio—there had to be more to the break-in. Whatever someone wanted, they wanted it bad enough to come back twice. And they weren't afraid to hurt her to get it.

She didn't want it to be Aiden, but once again he was Johnny on the spot when she was hurt. And he had no alibi for the time before she was found.

Mavis pulled up the hill and into the circular driveway.

"In and out,” she ordered. “And we stick together."

They got out of the car, and Mavis pulled a key from her purse and unlocked the door. It swung open, and she stood frozen on the threshold.

"Will you look at that?” she said and pointed.

A fluffy pile of shredded batting and slivers of multicolored cotton fabric sat on the floor by the cutting table. The predominant fabric color was red.

"What is—or, rather, was—it?"

Harriet stepped around her and knelt down by the heap. She picked up a handful and ran it through her fingers. She repeated the action twice more.

"I think it used to be Lauren's quilt."

Harriet grabbed Fred and his travel cage, his dishes and his bag of food. Mavis all but walked in the heels of her shoes, which made the task take twice as long as it might have.

They were back at the cottage before they dared speak about what they'd seen.

"Lauren is going to have kittens when she hears the news,” Mavis said. “In fact, I don't think you should tell her in person."

"I have to tell her. Her quilt was in my possession when it got ruined."

"But when it was damaged in the first place, you weren't there. In fact, if we hadn't arrived at the show when we did, it probably would have been destroyed on Monday."

"I just don't get it. What could anyone gain by destroying Lauren's quilt?"

"The real question is who would be willing to kill you to destroy Lauren's quilt?"

The kettle Mavis had put on to heat whistled, and she got up and poured hot water into their waiting mugs. She set the mugs on the table and was putting homemade gingersnaps on a plate when the phone rang. She handed the cookies to Harriet and searched for the cordless phone. She found it on the table beside her chair in the living room and answered just as the caller hung up.

"Dial star-six-nine,” Harriet suggested.

She did, and Harriet could hear the phone on the other end ringing.

"Hello?"

Mavis listened, said a few uh-huh's and finished with “We'll be there."

"Aren't you just the clever girl,” she said to Harriet when she keyed the phone off and returned it to its base. “That was Jenny. She said the Loose Threads want to meet tomorrow to deal with the project bags from Avanell's. What she didn't say is that they all want a first-hand account of what happened to you. I hope it's okay that I said you'd come."

"If we're going to be joined at the hip, I guess I don't have a choice,” Harriet said. She realized she sounded like a petulant teenager, but she was tired and feeling boxed in.

"I can call her back if you're not up to it,” Mavis said, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.

"I'm sorry, it's not you. It's my life. Aunt Beth was right—I was hiding in Oakland. But I thought I came here to help her. Then I find out I'm really here to take over her business and start my life again. I was even starting to believe it could work when all hell broke loose. I'm living like a fugitive, afraid of I don't know what. My life in California might not have been perfect, but I was safe and free."

"Honey, life is never predictable. You can lock yourself away in an apartment in California with only a cat to talk to, but that's not living. I'm not saying getting hit on the head is normal, either, but that could have happened just as easy in California as here. In fact, it's probably less uncommon there.” Mavis came over to her chair and rubbed her back like she would a child. “The police are going to get this sorted out and you'll be back at your aunt Beth's in no time. You've lived in Foggy Point before. You know it's a good place."

Yeah, she knew what a great place it was. That's why she had so many friends from her previous time here. Still, a small part of Harriet wanted to believe her, but it was hard to see how it was going to happen. As near as she could tell, whoever had trashed her studio, hit her on the head, drugged her and ruined Lauren's quilt was getting away scot-free, and neither she nor the police had any idea what was going on or why. And she didn't even want to think about Avanell's death. She was trying to convince herself her troubles were unrelated to that; but deep down, she didn't really believe it.

"It might be good for you to talk to the Loose Threads. Maybe they can see a connection with the quilt and your studio and Avanell's death that we don't."

"I suppose,” Harriet conceded. “You're right about one thing."

"What's that?"

"We aren't getting it. Whatever
it
is."

Harriet hadn't believed the doctor when he predicted how much better she would feel by the next morning, but she had to admit he'd been right. She wasn't ready to run a marathon, but the world no longer spun with her every movement, and her stomach had stabilized.

She opened her bedroom door to the smell of eggs cooking. Mavis had prepared scrambled eggs with Laughing Cow cheese and chopped chives. It was accompanied by toasted English muffins dripping with butter and homemade blackberry jam. The two women washed it down with steaming mugs of English Breakfast tea.

"You're looking better this morning, honey,” Mavis said when they were finished.

"I do feel as though I might live, which is a definite improvement over yesterday."

"If you want to change your mind about facing the Loose Threads, you say the word and I'll call in our regrets and we can spend the day here."

"No, I need to face Lauren, and I do think you're right about talking to the group and seeing if they have any fresh ideas. And, as much as I like you, I think we'll drive each other nuts if we just sit here all day and night."