Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9)

by Arlene Sachitano

  Lauren tapped her tablet awake and turned it toward Harriet and Jane. A photo of a large blond man in a plaid button-down shirt and tan chinos filled the screen.

  “And that would be?” Harriet asked.

  Lauren turned the pad back around.

  “None other than Joshua Phillips.”

  “Whoa! Molly’s abusive ex?” Harriet asked.

  “Didn’t I see an order of protection against him at the station?” Morse asked.

  Lauren sat down and slid her tablet into her bag. Harriet leaned back in her chair.

  “I see why you needed to tell someone,” she said.

  “I wonder if he got some kind of special release to attend the event,” Morse said thoughtfully. She pulled a small notebook from her purse and wrote a note. “I’ll see if he has friends in high places who might have helped him out a little.”

  “I thought you should know,” Lauren said.

  “For once I have to agree. I don’t like you guys digging around in police matters, but this time it seems like you found something we would have missed. I’m sure Mr. Phillips was counting on that.”

  Harriet stood up.

  “Want to stay and press seams for us?”

  Morse looked at her watch.

  “I can do that for an hour or so.”

  They carried their tea over to their workstations and began making squares for the quilts.

  Chapter 5

  In spite of spending the previous night stitching into the wee hours, Harriet got up early to go for a run.

  “You two behave yourselves while I’m gone,” she admonished Fred and Scooter, her cat and his canine protégé. Fred had spent the first few months of Scooter’s presence ignoring the small rescue dog Harriet had adopted, and then graduated to terrorizing him.

  It had been either a show of dominance by the cat or some sort of boot camp because the result had been a recent rash of team mischief. The cat opened cabinet doors and tossed things like protein bars down to the small dog, who then chewed the packages open so they could both eat the contents. She was contemplating the possibility of installing child-proof latches on the cabinets as she stepped outside and onto her driveway to stretch before her run.

  She was touching her toes when she heard the crunch of gravel. She looked up and saw a white late-model sedan approaching. The car stopped, and Molly Baker got out. She was wearing new-looking jeans and a purple hoodie.

  “I hope it’s not too early to come by,” she said.

  “I was about to go running.” Her intention should be obvious from how she was dressed and the fact she’d kept stretching, but she was hoping saying it would encourage Molly to keep it brief.

  Molly came over and stood opposite her.

  “I was talking to my sister last night, and she told me that you’ve solved a number of crimes in this area since you moved here.”

  Harriet was trying to think of an appropriate reply, but Molly held her hands up in a “hear me out” gesture.

  “I know you’re not a detective or anything—DeAnn told me. And she said you only investigated when it was someone you knew and the police were wrongly accusing them or something like that.”

  “That’s all true. I don’t want to be a detective, either. I’m a quilter. On a few occasions, when someone close to me has been threatened, I’ve asked a few questions and talked to a few people.”

  “And it resulted in the right person going to jail,” Molly stated. “That’s all I’m asking. The police say they’ve exhausted all evidence regarding Amber’s disappearance, and they all tell me to be happy I survived and to go out and do something wonderful with that gift.”

  Harriet spread her feet apart and bent to touch her ankle with the opposite hand.

  “That’s not bad advice.”

  “I can’t move forward until I know what happened. I mean, what if I did something to Amber. We were always climbing on trees and stuff. What if she fell and hit her head, and I got scared and hid her body.”

  Harriet straightened up and put her hands on Molly’s shoulders.

  “Molly, you were—what? Five years old? What five-year old could have pulled off that sophisticated of a plan? Besides, they probably searched with dogs. They would have found her. They found you miles away from where you were playing, in Fogg Park. You couldn’t have walked that distance.”

  “I suppose. It doesn’t ever go away, though.” She balled her hands into fists and pressed them into her temples. “I have to know what happened.”

  Harriet sighed. “I’m not sure what I can do that the police haven’t already done, but I suppose I can see what Lauren turns up and go on from there.”

  Molly blushed. “I guess Lauren told you I asked her for help, too.”

  “Foggy Point is a small town, and the Loose Threads don’t have many secrets from each other.”

  “I suppose not.”

  “Now, I really do have to go run.”

  “I’m sorry I kept you.”

  “No problem.”

  Molly got back in her rental car and drove away. Harriet looked at the sky and wondered what she’d just gotten herself into.

  Harriet couldn’t help but notice that her ten-pound weight loss made running up her hill a lot easier. She wanted to think she could keep it off, but her aunt’s Jekyll-and-Hyde behavior when it came to food would make that difficult. One minute Beth was admonishing her about her gluttonous eating habits and the next was bringing over her latest dessert concoction. She never knew which version of her aunt would walk through the door when they got together.

  Her phone interrupted her musings.

  “Hello?”

  “Can you go with me to a wiener dog race meeting?” asked James. “We could go for coffee and then the meeting. I’d come get you in about an hour.”

  Harriet did a quick mental review of her day’s schedule.

  “I can do that.”

  “See you in an hour.”

  She stared at her phone for a minute after the screen went dark. James’s sister was his usual partner in dog racing, but Harriet had subbed for her once before when she’d had to miss a race due to her child’s illness. It was curious he hadn’t mentioned what the problem was. She slid her phone into her pocket and walked the remainder of the way to her house.

  Harriet came outside and locked her studio door when James pulled into the driveway.

  “Thanks for coming with me on such short notice,” he said as she climbed into the passenger seat.

  “Is Maggie sick? Or one of the kids?”

  James hesitated before answering then blew out a breath through his teeth.

  “Something is going on with her, and I’m not sure what, but it isn’t good. She resigned from Team Cyrano. The whole wiener dog race thing was her idea in the first place. Now she doesn’t want to be away from home—at all.”

  “How are things with her husband?”

  “She won’t talk to me about him. But then again, she’s always been tight-lipped about her relationships. We’d only met her husband a few times when she announced they were getting married. I see her, and I see my niece, but we never see Dan.” He turned the car on.”Whatever’s going on, the net result is Team Cyrano is down a member.”

  Harriet looked at her hands. She had a feeling James wasn’t going to come out and say it, but he was clearly asking her to replace his sister on the race team.

  “How much of a time commitment would it be?”

  James smiled as he guided his brown BMW SUV toward the Steaming Cup.

  “The whole idea of the wiener dog races, besides having fun, is marketing,” he said when they were seated and had their drinks in front of them. “It gives the participants an inexpensive way to promote their businesses. You may have noticed the team shirts all have sponsor names on the back.

  “In our case, my restaurant is the sponsor. There are social events before race day, and our Northwest organizing committee is even talking about a sister-city type program betwe
en the towns that hold the qualifying races. Today’s meeting is for sponsors and teams to sign up and to discuss the first event. We don’t have to stay for the whole thing.”

  Harriet laughed. “So, this…” She gestured at the table. “…was all a setup? Why didn’t you just tell me you need me to sign on?”

  He had the good grace to blush.

  “If I’d asked you right off the bat, you might not have gotten in the car. I know you have a weakness for chocolate.”

  Harriet looked down at the cocoa he’d ordered for her without asking.

  “Here I thought you were just an unassuming nice guy. I’m going to have to file this away for future reference. ‘James is more devious than he looks.’”

  “Have I heard a yes in there yet? I brought along a box of my homemade truffles. Do I need to deploy them?”

  “Yes, I’ll help you, and yes, you definitely need to deploy the truffles.”

  James sat back in his chair.

  “Boy, you are one tough negotiator.”

  “Now, it’s your turn. I need some help with something.”

  “Uh-oh. Am I going to have to pay the price for my manipulations?”

  “This won’t be hard. You grew up in Foggy Point, right?”

  “I’ve been here my whole life, except for the ten years when I went to culinary school and then my apprenticeship in New York.”

  “What I’m going to ask you took place before that. Do you remember when a little girl named Amber Price disappeared? You would have been in your teens when it happened, I think.”

  He stared out the window.

  “I think I do remember that. Wasn’t there another girl who was found but couldn’t tell them what happened?”

  “Yes, that’s the case. It turns out the one who survived is my friend DeAnn’s half-sister. According to DeAnn, her sister has had a lifelong obsession about it. She’s here in town for a fundraiser right now—she works for a non-profit that deals with missing and exploited child cases. She’s starting to ask our quilt group members to help her.”

  “If the police couldn’t figure it out then, what are you supposed to do all this time later?”

  Harriet took a sip of chocolate and set her mug down.

  “You begin to see my problem. Since she’s DeAnn’s sister, I have to try. Lauren is digging on the Internet, and I said I’d ask around.”

  James leaned toward her.

  “Maybe I can help. My mom has a friend who lives in that neighborhood and has forever. I didn’t pay much attention at the time, but they talk about everything, so if there was any talk on the street, my mom probably knows.”

  “Can you ask her?”

  “It’ll be better if I hook you two up. If I ask, she’ll talk for thirty minutes, and I won’t remember it all, and half the stuff won’t even relate to the question at hand.”

  “That would be great…I think.”

  “So, what are you quilting on this week?” he asked her, changing the subject.

  They discussed her stitching and his new menu items, and before she knew it, they were leaving for the race meeting.

  Harriet was looking forward to a quiet evening of takeout and binge-watching a British mystery series on TV. The only decision was which cuisine it would be. She pulled a collection of menus from her kitchen drawer and spread them out on the countertop.

  Fred rubbed against her ankle, and she reached down and scratched his ears.

  “What do you vote? Do you want to lick up after Thai?” She looked at him for any indication of interest.

  “I hope you’re talking to one of your pets,” Mavis said as she came in from the studio carrying a covered dish.

  “Did we have a plan I don’t remember?” Harriet rocked back on her heels. “Please tell me this isn’t another intervention. Is Aunt Beth on her way? No offense, but I can’t do this again.”

  Mavis’s shoulders sagged as she walked past Harriet to the stove, where she set her dish down.

  “I can just leave this with you, then.” She started for the door.

  “Wait. I’m sorry.” She stepped over and put her hand on Mavis’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Let me take your coat. Come in.”

  The older woman shrugged out of her light jacket and hung it in the coat closet.

  “Maybe I am being too pushy. I saw your face the other day when you found out Aiden’s been calling Carla every week. I just thought…well…I thought you might not want to be alone on a Friday night.”

  “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I’m talked out when it comes to Aiden. I know it’s terrible, what his sister did to him. I know he has to recover, but once again, he’s choosing to do that alone, without me. I understand that, I really do. The whole year he and I have known each other, he’s had terrible things happen, and it’s all been done by people who supposedly love him.

  “He and I met and fell in love, but it wasn’t enough. At every turn, he chose to shut me out. I know it’s probably selfish, but I want to come first. I want to put him first in my life, and I want him to put me first in his.”

  “Oh, honey, that’s not selfish, that’s how it should be.”

  They stood in silence for a long moment. Harriet looked over at the foil-covered dish.

  “So, what did you bring?”

  “It’s my famous chili-cheese-dog casserole. You should pop it in the oven for about fifteen or twenty minutes—it probably cooled a little on the drive over, and it’s best piping hot.”

  “I’ll make us tea while it warms up. I was planning on binge-watching Black Coat tonight. The new season started three weeks ago, and I haven’t gotten to watch any of them yet. If you haven’t seen them I think I’d like some company.”

  Mavis brightened. “Oh, honey, I haven’t—my cable’s been on the fritz, and they had to order me a new box. I’d love to stay and watch if you really don’t mind.”

  “Say no more. It’s a small price to pay for dinner delivered to my door.”

  “If you have a little lettuce, I can throw a salad together.”

  “I can do you one better. I’ve got salad in a bag.”

  Mavis smiled. “Perfect.”

  Chapter 6

  Harriet was munching on an antacid when Mavis arrived the next morning. She slid the roll of tablets into her jeans pocket.

  “Good morning, and thanks again for bringing dinner last night.”

  “You don’t have to hide those Tums. I know I got it a little too spicy last night.”

  “But it tasted so good.”

  “It did, but hand ’em over. I could use one myself.”

  Harriet laughed and did as she was told.

  “How many blocks did you finish,” she asked.

  Mavis pulled a stack of nine-patch blocks from her bag and set them on the kitchen counter.

  “I finished ten.”

  “As Lauren would say, ‘Aren’t you the overachiever’.”

  “Well, honey, I knew you had to get back to machine stitching on your regular customers’ quilts, and Lauren has her day job, and Carla has that little girl and big house to take care of. I figured I’d take the pressure off the rest of you. Besides, it was nice to just stay home and sew.”

  Lauren had joined them as Mavis was speaking.

  “How very thoughtful of you. And perceptive. Harriet and I worked together, and even with Jane Morse pressing seams for us, we still only got ten done between us.”

  Harriet looked out the kitchen window.

  “Carla’s arriving. Let’s go to the studio. I’m dying to know if all our careful measuring resulted in blocks that are the same size.”

  “How can you even question it?” Lauren asked.

  “That would be ‘experience with our group’,” Harriet shot back.

  Mavis shooed them through the connecting door and into the studio.

  “You two behave yourselves, Carla’s about to walk in.”

  Mavis opened the door to let their youngest member in. Carla
’s black hair was pulled back from her face and braided.

  “Oh, honey, your hair looks cute pulled back like that.”

  Carla blushed.

  “Wendy kept fighting me about putting her hair up or in barrettes or pretty much any way except hanging down. I finally realized she was trying to look like me. So, now I’m braiding my hair every day, and most days now she doesn’t argue about hers.”

  “Well, whatever the reason, I like it.” Mavis told her.

  Carla set her bag on the cutting table and pulled out a stack of blocks.

  “I only got five blocks done,” she announced.”Our kitchen sink got all plugged up, and I ended up having to call the plumber last night. He brought his puppy with him, and Wendy played with it while he snaked our drain. She was so excited she didn’t go to sleep until ten. All she could do was talk about ‘puppy’.”

  Harriet put her blocks on the table next to Carla’s.

  “I only got five done, too, and my excuse isn’t nearly as fun as a puppy.”

  Lauren pulled hers out.

  “What she said.”

  Mavis joined them at the cutting table.

  “We’re in good shape. We only need thirteen more nine-patch blocks. With four of us here, we should be able to do that today and probably cut them all up, too.”

  Harriet gathered the individual stacks of blocks and started piling them into a single group.

  “Let’s not prolong the agony.” She lined up the edges. “Well, look at that.”

  Lauren leaned in for a closer look, and then held her hand up to Carla for a high-five.

  “Just like I said, they match perfectly.” She laughed.

  Harriet smiled.

  “Yeah, just like you said.”

  Mavis selected two rotary cutters from a box on the work room shelf and handed them to Harriet and Lauren.

  “Here, you two cut strips, and Carla and I will sew and press them.”

  Harriet arched her spine and put a fist in her lower back. She and Lauren had cut all the basic strips and were now cutting the seamed units Carla and Mavis were making into rectangles.

  “Anyone ready for a break? I have a box of lemon cookies and could make tea.”