The 12 Quilts of Christmas

by Arlene Sachitano

  Lauren stirred her tea. “Unless she’s in danger staying in Foggy Point.”

  Beth pulled a wool appliqué block from her bag.

  “Are you keeping the horse?”

  “James and Luke and I talked about it, and I think we are. I’d like to pay Jade, however. Becky is an expensive horse, and I’m not really comfortable taking her for free.

  “I wonder what has Jade so panicked she would abandon her horse, her business, and just leave,” Robin said.

  Harriet selected a Linzer cookie.

  “What I wonder is if Millie and Sunny are being threatened by whatever scared Jade out of town.”

  “And Daniel and Valery, too?” Lauren asked.

  “That would be a pretty big conspiracy, don’t you think?” Robin asked.

  Harriet chewed and swallowed a bite of her cookie.

  “On the other hand,” she said, “it’s a pretty big coincidence that two people are dead, one’s been driven out of town’ and two others are obviously having business problems and are being threatened. I mean, how can that all be random?”

  “Let’s not forget Vern. He seems to be having money problems, too,” Lauren added.

  Robin pulled a yellow legal tablet from her oversized bag.

  “I think we need to write this all down. Maybe it will make sense if we lay it all out.”

  Mavis stopped stitching on the Christmas ornament she was making.

  “Do I need to remind you all that Detective Morse and her colleagues at Foggy Point PD are quite capable of solving crime in this town without our help.”

  Robin went to the door and closed it. “Normally, I’d be the first one to agree with you.”

  “But?” Mavis asked.

  “But,” Robin continued, “it’s unusual for someone to give someone they barely know an expensive horse, and when you couple that with the information about Jade being a former drug user and dealer—”

  “If it’s true,” Connie interrupted.

  “Yes, assuming it’s true,” Robin agreed. “I think before Harriet accepts the admittedly unusual gift, we should see if we can learn a little bit more about what’s going on. It may be completely above board. On the other hand, Jade could be involved in the drug world more deeply than it appears on the surface, in which case, I’d like to confirm she legitimately owns the horse. I mean, we need to be sure there isn’t someone else in town who thinks they own it and maybe used it for collateral against their latest fix, not really intending to permanently give the animal away.”

  Harriet sipped her tea thoughtfully. “She seemed pretty torn up about the idea of losing the horse when I talked to her.”

  Robin sat back down.

  “Unfortunately, drug users can be very proficient liars if it means they can feed their habit.”

  Lauren pulled her tablet computer from her messenger bag. “I can see what I can find about our friend Jade.”

  DeAnn popped a thumbprint cookie into her mouth and ate it before speaking.

  “This is only slightly related, and I’m not sure what the rules are about things you learn at a trial when you’re a juror and the person on trial has gone to jail and then gotten out.”

  Robin twirled her pen in her fingers.

  “Jurors are allowed to talk about their trial as long as they stick to the truth. If you make stuff up, the usual rules about slander apply, but otherwise, you can tell all if you wish once the verdict is in.”

  DeAnn gave a sigh of relief.

  “A number of years ago, I was on the jury of a murder trial. In the end, we found the guy guilty of manslaughter. He had gotten in a fight with a drunk guy, completely started by the drunk, but he punched the victim, and the victim went down and hit his head and died.”

  “And?” Lauren prompted.

  “And the guy we sent to jail for six years now works at the knitting store.”

  Harriet leaned back in her chair. “Wow.”

  “Wow is right,” Mavis said.

  Carla plucked a shortbread cookie from Connie’s plate.

  “Is it possible that all the shopkeepers who are having trouble now are involved in a drug ring? Maybe they were all selling drugs and accidentally got into someone else’s territory or something like that?”

  “Or maybe they double-crossed their distributor,” DeAnn suggested.

  Robin made a note on her pad. “Anything’s possible.”

  Lauren stirred honey into her tea. “I thought you were going to say DeAnn’s been watching too much television.”

  Robin sighed. “You’d be amazed how many otherwise ordinary citizens get involved in crime. Especially drug crimes. Somehow, little old ladies on a fixed income get involved in distributing or selling drugs to make a little extra money, and because they don’t have a gun and their distributor doesn’t look like a street thug, they don’t think it’s a real crime. They disconnect from the effects the drug they’re handling have on the users.”

  Harriet set her cookie down.

  “So, you think Jade, Daniel, Valery, Sunny and Millie are involved in drugs?”

  “No, not for sure. I’m saying it’s a possibility. I represented a bunco group that was growing and distributing pot. Granted, they weren’t hardened criminals, but their activities were illegal, and it turned out they were all Master Gardeners and so successful their profits qualified them for hard time. And all of them were over sixty-five.”

  “Wow, hard time? Really?” Harriet said.

  “It was complicated. Some of them were snowbirds,” Robin explained.

  Carla looked confused.

  “They spent their winters in Arizona,” she continued. “They got involved in a bunco group there and got some of their friends there involved, so then they were trafficking drugs across interstate lines. It was a mess. And through it all, they couldn’t seem to grasp how much trouble they were in.”

  Mavis threaded a needle with green pearl cotton.

  “Let’s hope we don’t have anything like that going on.”

  Lauren pulled her stitching project from her bag—a mat for her mother to put their centerpiece on for Christmas dinner. She’d opted for a wool felt penny rug with small candy canes, fir trees, wrapped packages, and other Christmas symbols on black wool circles surrounding a plain oval center.

  “Whatever’s going on, it’s bad enough for two people to be dead and one driven out of town.”

  Harriet picked her cookie back up and took a bite.

  “I hate to say this,” she said when she’d finished chewing. “But what if Jade is the mastermind, and she left town after she killed two people.”

  “Let’s not go crazy here,” Robin cautioned her. “But having said that, I would like more evidence the whole horse thing is legitimate. Have your attorney check things out, you need to make sure she legally owns the horse before you accept it. And do you have any evidence her parents actually agree with her plan? That could be important if they are the actual owners.”

  “I know Lauren is looking on the internet for background on Jade, but if there is anything you can access about any drug arrests or other trouble that could be helpful. And please charge me. I don’t expect you to work for for free.”

  “This isn’t work,” Robin replied. “This is satisfying my curiosity.”

  Connie slid the cookie plate out of her own reach.

  “I hope you’ll let us all know what happens.”

  “I will,” Harriet answered for Robin.

  “Did you all leave me any cookies?” Jenny asked as she breezed into the room. “Sorry I’m late. The tooth cleaner person was running late today. What did I miss?”

  Robin caught her up on the speculations of the group while Carla moved the cookies to her end of the table. Harriet poured hot water into Jenny’s favorite mug and set it and the teabag basket in front of her.

  “Do you have any theories as to what’s going on? As long as we’re all making our guesses.”

  “I have more than a theory,” Jenny sa
id with a wicked smile.

  Lauren leaned forward.

  “Do tell.”

  “Sunny cracked.” Jenny paused as the Loose Threads all stopped eating and stitching to stare at her. “Connie told me what Harriet heard at the bakery last week. I went in this morning, and no one else was in the shop. Sunny was sitting at one of the tables holding a piece of paper and crying. I went over, and she tried to fold the paper, but I could see it and she gave up. The words were cut from magazines and glued to a page of copy paper. It said, ‘You are late. You now owe six hundred dollars. Pay by tomorrow or we go to the press’.

  “It took a little coaxing, but I convinced her she’d feel better if she let it all out. She said someone has been blackmailing her. When she was younger, she was part of a group of goth kids that hung out and played fantasy role-playing games. Two of their group members were involved in the murder of a child out in the forest. Sunny and the rest of the group were completely exonerated, but the blackmailer threatened to go to the press and claim insider knowledge implicating Sunny. She’s afraid it will ruin her. Of course, paying the increasing amounts to the blackmailer will ruin her, but she’s a single mother and doesn’t want her daughter to know about her past.”

  Connie picked up her cup of tea. “Poor Sunny.”

  “Does she have any idea why now?” Harriet asked. “I mean, hasn’t she had the shop here for a while?”

  “Six or seven years,” Beth answered.

  Jenny dunked her teabag up and down and removed it from her mug.

  “Sunny is pretty sure Millie is being blackmailed also. She tried to get her to talk about it, but Millie wouldn’t go there. The only thing she can think of is someone wanting to take over the downtown area for a development.”

  Lauren bit the leg off a gingerbread man and chewed thoughtfully.

  “Harriet and I thought of that, but it’s hard to imagine Foggy Point’s downtown generating enough income to interest a developer.”

  Harriet pulled the crazy-quilt ornament she was working on from her bag and set it on the table while she dug for her needle and thread.

  “I read about this sort of thing on the internet. The developer doesn’t make money on the shops—in fact, in some communities, they don’t even bother with the commercial spaces. They put in a lot of low-cost apartments over the shops. They get a tax break and other considerations as well as the rent.”

  Mavis set her stitching down and reached for another cookie.

  “Wow. So, we either have a drug ring or a real estate scam operating in our otherwise peaceful community.”

  “Or it could be something else entirely,” Harriet said.

  Robin scribbled another note on her tablet.

  “I have a friend at the courthouse who works in the building permit department. I can ask her if anyone new to town has been asking about permits for the downtown area. She and her co-workers usually have a good idea who is trying to do what, building-wise, in this county.”

  “I can check with Morse,” Harriet volunteered. “She might be willing to tell us if there has been an increase in drug activity lately.”

  Connie reached for the basket to make a second cup of tea.

  “On a lighter note, who has their Christmas shopping done?”

  Her query was met with groans all around the table.

  CHAPTER 19

  Harriet picked up the empty dinner dishes and stacked them before carrying them to the sink.

  “I hope you guys won’t think this is too corny, but since we’re getting our pictures taken with Santa this evening, I thought we could have them taken in matching sweaters.”

  James groaned.

  “Please tell me you didn’t. My mom used to make my sister and me wear these terrible matching Christmas sweaters for our holiday pictures. They had bells and bobbles and I don’t know what all hanging off them.”

  Luke looked up from his phone.

  “I want to see them. The pictures, that is.”

  “I’m sure my mother will be happy to show you. And don’t try to tell me you’re excited about being dressed up like a Christmas clown.”

  Luke’s face burned red.

  “Harriet wouldn’t do that to us? Would she?”

  James smiled and watched Harriet as she crossed to the stairs and picked up a shopping bag she’d left on the first step.

  “You better hope not.”

  Harriet opened the bag and handed the red sweaters to James and Luke and pulled out a green pullover for herself.

  “This isn’t bad,” Luke said.

  “Don’t sound so amazed,” Harriet said indignantly. She reached back into the bag.

  James tried to look inside, but she pulled it away.

  “You may have spoken too soon,” he warned Luke.

  “O, ye of little faith,” Harriet said, and pulled two dog sweaters from the bottom of the bag, one green and one red. “I figured the boys should be in our first Christmas together picture.”

  “What about Fred?” Luke asked.

  “As much as I like the idea, there are many problems with that. He hates clothes—don’t ask how I know that, just trust me. Then, there’s the problem of taking him downtown. I like my fingers too much to attempt that. He’s miserable to take to the vet; I can’t imagine taking him out in a crowd.”

  Luke reached down and petted the cat, who had appeared at the mention of his name.

  “Maybe we can put ink on his feet and let him walk on the matting for the picture.”

  James patted him on the back.

  “Not a bad idea. You’re kind of a clever kid, you know that?”

  Luke blushed.

  Harriet folded up her now-empty shopping bag.

  “Let’s get into our sweaters and round up the dogs.”

  “It’s a plan,” James said and led the way upstairs.

  A light snow was falling as James parked the car and Harriet and Luke put leashes on the two dogs. Today was the shortest day of the year—winter solstice—and at six o’clock it was already full dark. The white twinkle lights on the storefronts of Main Street lent a festive touch to the downtown area.

  Harriet picked Scooter up.

  “I’m going to carry him until we get to the photo booth. I don’t know how Cyrano does with the cold, but if Scooter’s feet get cold, he’ll start whining; and then there will be no hope of getting a good photo.”

  James patted Scooter’s head.

  “Cyrano is tough. He’ll be fine as long as he’s got his sweater on.”

  Harriet looked back at the dachshund just as Lauren bent down, petting him. Les was a few paces behind her.

  “Are you two here for Christmas pictures?” Harriet asked.

  Lauren rolled her eyes and gave a dramatic sigh.

  “Unfortunately, we are. Our mother has insisted on a twin picture every Christmas since we were born.”

  “And she buys us hideous matching outfits for the occasion,” Les added. Even his tenor voice was remarkably similar to Lauren’s husky contralto.

  James smiled.

  “Let’s see them, then.”

  The twins looked at each other and sighed again before flashing their coats open. Harriet and James tried to keep from laughing.

  Les’s sweater featured a traditional red-suited Santa complete with sack of presents over his shoulder, while Lauren’s featured a female elf in a green fur-trimmed dress holding a festively wrapped package.

  “I feel so much better,” James finally said.

  Lauren and Les busied themselves zipping their coats.

  “Can anyone come to this party?” Connie’s husband Rod asked as he, Connie, and Carla’s daughter Wendy joined them on the sidewalk. Connie wrapped Wendy’s scarf tighter around her neck.

  “Have you seen Carla?” she asked. “We’re supposed to meet her here.”

  Harriet shifted Scooter in her arms.

  “We just got here, and other than Lauren and her brother…”

  Lauren shoved he
r hands into her coat pockets.

  “We saw Jenny and her family earlier, but I think they were headed home.”

  Les glanced at his watch.

  “Can we get this over with?” he asked his sister. “I’m supposed to meet some friends in half an hour.”

  The group moved up the block to where the photographer had set up her camera on the sidewalk in front of Kitchen Kouture. The store had replaced its display of table covers with a queen-sized holiday quilt Aunt Beth had made several years ago. It had an off-white background with appliquéd images of gingerbread men, Santas, reindeer, and Christmas trees surrounding a center medallion that portrayed a side view of a winking Santa.

  They joined the waiting line of two families. Aunt Beth and Jorge were delivering small paper cups of Mexican hot chocolate advertising Tico’s Tacos. Harriet took one from the tray and looked at the logo on the cup.

  “Nice touch. Since you and Jorge are here, how would you like to be in a group photo with James, Luke and I?”

  Beth beamed.

  “Oh, honey, I think that sounds wonderful.”

  They posed for multiple pictures, some with Santa and some without. She stuffed Scooter inside her coat when they’d finished.

  “Do you guys mind if we walk up to Blood Moon and peek in the window? I’d like to see if the quilt is still there.”

  James put his arm around her shoulders.

  “If you think Scooter is warm enough, I’m game.”

  Luke picked Cyrano up.

  “We’re good.”

  The trio made their way up the block through the falling snow. Harriet sniffed and turned her head from side to side.

  “Do either of you smell smoke?”

  James tilted his head up and sniffed.

  “I do.”

  Luke pointed up the block.

  “There’s smoke is coming out of that building.”

  Harriet hurried up the block, unable to run because of the slick sidewalk.

  “That’s Blood Moon. Luke, call nine-one-one.”

  James matched her pace.

  “Don’t even think about going in.”

  “My quilt was on a stool just inside the window. If the fire isn’t too bad, I’d like to rescue it.”