The 12 Quilts of Christmas

by Arlene Sachitano

  “Good to know,” Harriet said. She looked over at Luke, who was midway through his third cupcake—a chocolate brownie number with strawberry filling, strawberry frosting dribbled with chocolate, and with a chocolate-dipped strawberry on top.

  “We heard an interesting argument from out back when we first got here,” Harriet said in a quiet voice.

  “Do tell,” Lauren encouraged her.

  Harriet repeated what they’d heard.

  “Given today’s events the ‘Yeah, but you didn’t kill anyone’ caught my attention.”

  “Could you tell if one of them was Sunny?”

  Harriet looked at Luke. He shrugged.

  “I think the one who said ’It doesn’t matter that it isn’t me, they have pictures’ could have been Sunny.”

  “Do you think we should tell…” Lauren stopped mid-sentence and put both hands up. “Wait, didn’t we just discuss how Daniel’s murder was none of our business and we were going to stay out of it?”

  “If it turns out Daniel was murdered, Morse would want to know we heard someone talking about someone being accused of killing someone,” Harriet argued.

  Lauren shook her head.

  “First, that’s a big if. Second, we have no idea who they were talking about, and third, all you heard is someone didn’t kill someone. I’m not sure how any of that helps Morse.”

  “I suppose,” Harriet said, and sipped her chocolate.

  The string of Christmas bells on the door jingled as Connie came into the shop.

  “Are we having a Loose Threads meeting?” she asked.

  Lauren laughed.

  “Your quilt is making everyone cupcake-hungry.”

  “It’s been great for business,” Sunny said from the counter. “I think your whole quilt group has been in, plus a lot of other people. And we can use all the sales we can get.”

  “Isn’t Christmas usually a pretty good time, business-wise?” Lauren asked her.

  Sunny’s expression darkened.

  “You would think so,” she said.

  Connie went over to peruse the cupcakes.

  “What can I get you?” Sunny asked.

  “I would like a dulce de leche and a peppermint chocolate,” she said. “And a small coffee.” She slid another chair from a nearby table and joined them, then leaned forward and gestured with her hand for Lauren and Harriet to do likewise.

  “Does anyone else find this whole business-is-bad story that we’ve heard from several shops to be a little strange?” she asked in a quiet voice. “I talked to Marjorie, and she said business at the quilt store is up twenty percent over last year. Beth got a similar story from Serena at the kitchen store.”

  “James says the restaurant is up, also,” Harriet said in the same tone.

  The doorbell jingled again, and Chris Baker from Keystroke Computers came in. He was a lanky blond who looked like he could use a good meal.

  “Are you following me?” Lauren asked him with a grin.

  “You did mention you were stopping here. Once you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about…” He paused for dramatic effect. “…cupcakes,” he finished with a laugh. “Besides, I needed to deliver Sunny’s laptop.” He held up an older model Sony Viao.

  “Did it get a virus?” Lauren guessed.

  “No, just came in for a routine check-up. It takes a lot of TLC to keep these older models alive.” He looked over what was left of their cupcakes.

  “You guys have any recommendations?”

  “Anything chocolate,” Luke said

  “Works for me,” Chris said, and strolled to the counter.

  CHAPTER 11

  Harriet shivered when the cold air hit her shower-damp hair as she got in her car the following day. She’d run two extra miles that morning in hopes the extra endorphins would protect her from whatever it was her aunt wanted to discuss with her. They’d just seen each other two days ago at the Loose Threads meeting, and everything had been fine then.

  Aunt Beth had called the previous night after dinner and asked to meet at the Steaming Cup—a more formal invitation than the usual “Let’s go to coffee” invite Harriet was used to. It was made all the more ominous by the public setting—her aunt usually preferred grocery-store coffee prepared in a home coffeemaker.

  Beth was alone at a two-person table when Harriet arrived. Possibilities streaked through her mind as she ordered her latte and watched while the barista prepared it. Could her aunt have contracted a terrible disease? Surely, if that were the case, she would have mentioned symptoms or doctor appointments before this. Had she and Jorge had a falling out? Again, Harriet couldn’t imagine that happening with no warning; they’d been fine two days ago.

  She sucked in her breath. Her parents. Something had happened to her parents. But would her aunt ask her to meet in a public place for that sort of news?

  The barista pushed her latte across the counter. Time to face the music.

  “I hope you don’t mind meeting here,” Beth said as Harriet set her cup on the table and shrugged out of her coat. “Connie and Mavis wanted to meet for coffee after we’re done. You’re welcome to stay on when they get here.”

  Harriet relaxed a little at that announcement. Maybe the location wasn’t strategic.

  “What did you want to talk about?”

  Beth took a deep breath.

  “Jorge and I were talking about Christmas last night. I mean Christmas Day. If you remember, last year, Julio went to his girlfriend’s parents’ house. Well, this year they are coming to Foggy Point.”

  “I’ve only met him once or twice, but he seemed like a nice guy,” Harriet said carefully, wondering what Jorge’s son’s holiday plans had to do with her..

  “He’s very nice,” Beth said and smiled briefly.

  Harriet sipped her latte in silence, waiting for her aunt to continue. Beth reached across the table and took her hand.

  “You’re making me nervous,” Harriet said.

  “I don’t mean to. I just don’t want you to get upset.”

  “For crying out loud, would you just say whatever it is you’re trying to say.”

  “Jorge wants to invite Aiden to dinner.”

  Harriet got a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Having her ex-boyfriend at her first Christmas dinner with her new husband and newer foster son seemed like a recipe for disaster. Especially given Aiden’s refusal to accept Harriet and James’s relationship.

  Beth held up her other hand.

  “If it’s too upsetting, I’ll tell Jorge, and we won’t try to combine our families. He’s been like a father to Aiden since his father died, and Julio is Aiden’s best friend.”

  Harriet leaned back in her chair and stared at the ceiling.

  “Why does this have to be so hard? Most people break up with their boyfriend and never have to see him again. I can’t seem to get away from Aiden.”

  “That’s small town living at its finest.”

  Harriet sighed.

  “I don’t want you to have to be apart from Jorge. That’s not fair. James and Luke and I can do Christmas dinner at our house, and then have dinner the next night or any other night with you and Jorge.”

  Beth frowned. Clearly, this wasn’t the outcome she’d hoped for. She sat in silence.

  “It’s not a problem for me,” Harriet said. “But I won’t have any of our relationship drama go on around Luke.”

  “I can have Jorge talk to Aiden. Explain about the boy.”

  “Do that, but I can’t make any promises until I talk to James and Luke. If they aren’t up for it, we won’t be able to come.”

  Beth brightened.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

  “You two look serious,” Connie said as she approached. Beth and Harriet had been so engrossed they hadn’t noticed the arrival of the others. “Shall we move to the big table?”

  Beth and Harriet stood up and followed her to the bigger space. Mavis joined them a moment later.

&n
bsp; “Is everyone ready for the holiday?” she asked as she hung her coat on the back of her chair and sat down.

  Beth gave Harriet a long look before answering.

  “We’re getting there. Julio is bringing his girlfriend home for Christmas, and although he hasn’t said as much, Jorge thinks Julio is going to propose over the holiday.”

  “That’s exciting!” Connie said. “He must be pretty sure of the answer if he’s willing to do it with an audience.”

  “They’ve been dating seriously for several years, so I think it will be fine,” Beth told them. “Jorge is the one I’m not so sure about. He wants everything to be perfect. He’s recarpeting his living room and having all the family pictures on his photo wall reframed. Now he’s talking about painting pretty much the whole house.”

  “Wow,” said Harriet. “Does he have time for all that?”

  Beth gave a small laugh.

  “Not really. Aiden volunteered to help him paint, but I’m trying to get him to scale back his plan. Maybe concentrate on the dining room and living room where everyone will be gathering.”

  Mavis sipped her coffee and set her cup down.

  “Good luck with that.”

  DeAnn came in, and Beth waved to her when she glanced their way after ordering her drink.

  “Can anyone join this party?” she asked, drink and a cookie in hand.

  Connie pulled out a chair for her.

  “I just got back from Melnyk’s,” DeAnn continued. “I had an extra one of those Russian-doll blocks left over from the quilt, so I made him a pillow. He told me someone tried to break into the gallery last night. He thinks they tried to jimmy the lock, but he has that ornate door handle-and-lock set, and apparently, they couldn’t get it open, so they broke one of the panes of glass to reach inside.

  “He said nothing was taken or even disturbed as near as he can tell, so he thinks something or someone scared them off before they got far enough to trip the motion detectors—his security system didn’t send an alarm. He did allow for the fact they may have disabled his alarm. He’s having his security people come out and see what they can tell him.”

  Harriet leaned forward.

  “That’s interesting, given Daniel Muhler’s sudden demise. And their two businesses being almost next door to each other.”

  DeAnn took a bite of her cookie thoughtfully.

  “Didn’t Daniel commit suicide?”

  “I think the jury may still be out on that one,” Harriet said.

  “Do you know something?” Beth asked her.

  “Nothing official, but the way he was hanging didn’t look right to me. Not that I’m an expert on these matters, but the stool that was tipped over under him didn’t look like it was tall enough for him to have stepped off it. But I could be totally wrong.”

  The group was so focused on Harriet and what she was saying they hadn’t noticed Jane Morse approach their table.

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” she said to Harriet. “It’s going to be on the news tonight, so I guess I can tell you that Daniel Muhler’s death has been determined to be a homicide.”

  “I knew it didn’t look right.”

  “Is it okay if I join you for a minute?” Morse asked.

  “Oh, honey, you know you don’t have to ask,” Connie told her.

  Morse sat down with her latte and chocolate croissant.

  “Someone went to a lot of trouble to make it look like a suicide.” She turned to Harriet. “You were right about the stool. When you set it up right under him, his toes barely touched it.”

  “Did you hear what DeAnn said about the attempted break-in at Melnyk’s?” Harriet asked.

  Morse sipped her latte.

  “No, I didn’t. What happened?”

  DeAnn recounted what she’d learned from Valery Melnyk.

  “That’s interesting, especially given their proximity and the fact that both stores share an alley.”

  Harriet wiped her mouth on her napkin.

  “That’s what we were thinking.”

  Morse pulled her spiral notebook from her jacket pocket and made a note.

  “Anything else I need to know?”

  Harriet put her hand over her mouth as she thought.

  “Okay, whatever it is you’re trying to decide whether to tell me or not, the answer is yes, you need to tell me and let me decide if it’s important or not,” Morse prompted.

  Harriet dropped her hand.

  “This truly could be completely unrelated.”

  Morse sighed.

  “Okay, okay,” Harriet finally said. “It’s hard for me to imagine anyone cares, but Daniel had a drawer full of what Lauren says are antiretroviral drugs.”

  Morse made a note.

  “So, Daniel had AIDs?”

  “Or maybe he was HIV-positive. I don’t know. We just saw a bunch of drugs.”

  Beth picked up her spoon and twirled it in her fingers.

  “Could Daniel’s death be a hate crime?”

  Morse closed her notebook and returned it to her pocket.

  “It’s early yet. At this point, it could be anything.” She stood up. “And given that, I think I’ll go have a chat with Valery and see want I can learn from him.”

  “Can it wait until you finish your croissant?” Connie asked.

  Morse looked at her plate and sat back down.

  “I guess it’ll keep for a few more minutes.”

  Harriet had prearranged with Lauren to meet at the coffee shop after her aunt had had time for her announcement, and she arrived as Morse left. Jenny joined them a few minutes later.

  “I thought I might find you all here,” she said as she shrugged out of her coat. “Ignore the texts I sent a few of you. I had to come in to Rubie’s and take the quilt down so they could redo their window. After they saw the quilt, they decided they needed to upgrade their display. I have to go back in thirty or forty-five minutes and re-hang it. I told them they could handle it, but they were afraid they would ‘hurt’ it, so I agreed to come do it for them.”

  Lauren sipped her mocha.

  “Seriously?”

  Jenny smiled.

  “Remember, I put a lot of crystals on that baby. Since the back side was visible in the shop, I put crystals on the back side, too. They were afraid the crystals would tear the fabric when they folded the quilt.”

  “Want some help?” Harriet asked her.

  “Sure, that would be great. It’ll give you a chance to see the crystal work I did on the back. I was really torn about doing crystals at all. I’m with Connie—I kind of feel like the whole crystals-on-everything look has run its course. It just seemed to me that a quilt in a jewelry store should have a little bling.”

  Lauren glanced at her phone.

  “I’ve got time to come, too, if you want.”

  “Sure, the more the merrier,” Jenny said.

  The front window of Rubie’s Jewelry Store was finished and ready for the quilt to be hung when Harriet, Lauren, and Jenny arrived.

  “Anthony, this looks great,” Jenny said when she saw the new window design.

  The store owner, Anthony DeMarco, had created a winter forest effect with animals made from a white rhinestone fabric under stylized flocked Christmas trees. The central tree was decorated with diamond and amethyst jewelry.

  Anthony carefully handed Jenny her folded quilt. She, in turn, handed one corner to Harriet and held the other herself. Lauren caught the bottom edge as Jenny unfurled her creation.

  “Whoa,” Lauren exclaimed.

  Harriet gasped.

  “Jenny, this is fantastic. I wasn’t able to get close enough to the window on viewing night to see all the detail.”

  The quilt design used a variety of sizes of stars made from white-and-silver small-scale prints on varying shades of lavender background fabric. The back of the quilt was a medium purple with metallic silver flecks. Jenny’s liberal use of crystals on the front made the stars seem to twinkle. The back side resembled the night
sky.

  “You can see why I needed to redo my window,” Anthony said. “I had gone with traditional Christmas colors based on what Betty had told me.”

  Jenny slid the hanging rod into the quilt sleeve as she talked.

  “Unfortunately, with Betty’s fire, nothing was salvageable from her original quilt. I already had the fabric I used in this one in my stash, which saved time.”

  “I appreciate everything you’ve done,” Anthony said quickly. “And it really wasn’t any trouble to change the window design. Believe me, this window with your quilt will sell a lot of jewelry.”

  Jenny’s cheeks turned pink.

  “I was happy to do it.”

  “Well, we appreciate it.”

  The door opened, and Detective Morse stepped in, rubbing her hands to warm them.

  “Jenny, your quilt looks great. And I like the new window design.”

  Jenny dipped her head.

  “Thanks. Since Betty’s quilt was destroyed, I was able to start from scratch. I was just telling Anthony, I already had the fabric for this, so I was able to start cutting and sewing right away. I think it was harder for the people who had to pick up a project in process.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. Your quilt is spectacular, even more so given how quickly you had to make it,” Morse told her. She pulled her notebook from her pocket as she spoke. “Have you ladies noticed anyone coming in or out of Melnyk’s gallery while you’ve been standing here?”

  “I didn’t,” Lauren said. “I was focused on the quilt and the window.”

  Harriet shook her head.

  “Why? Is something going on over there?”

  Morse made a note.

  “I’m not sure. Someone called the station on the non-emergency line and said they’d gone in to pick up a painting, and Melnyk wasn’t there. The door was open, but no one was in the place. They thought it was odd, since they had an appointment. I guess they waited for thirty minutes, and when he still didn’t show, they called it in. Given recent events, I decided to check it out myself.”

  Anthony had gone to a glass display case at the back of the store to show a ring to a customer. Now, he locked the case and returned to the group.