“Okay,” she said as she got into Tom’s borrowed truck, “we’re free to go. Jorge said they’ll be along in a few minutes.”
“So, we’re free till then?”
Harriet studied him for a long moment.
“Ye-e-es,” she said slowly. “May I ask why that matters?”
“Oh, we’re just taking a small detour.”
Harriet raised her left eyebrow.
“Relax, I’m not kidnapping you or anything. We can’t leave Foggy Point, remember?”
He guided the truck to the Strait of Juan de Fuca, taking numerous detours around downed trees and small slides before pulling into a wayside viewpoint, parking and getting out. Harriet followed him to a small stone enclosure. A brushed-steel sign was mounted flat to the back of the space and described the seabirds that frequented this point. A roughhewn bench spanned the covered space.
“Wait here,” Tom said and, when Harriet sat, jogged back to the truck then returned with one hand held behind his back.
“What’s going on?” Harriet started to stand.
“Relax,” he said, and she sank back onto the bench as he swept his hidden hand into view, presenting her with a bunch of flowers. At least, it resembled a bunch of flowers.
“What is this?” she asked as she took the cellophane-wrapped bouquet of holly that was brightened with what turned out to be carefully crafted origami flowers.
“I just thought you might need something to brighten your day,” he said with a smile. He sat down beside her.
“Did you make these?” She bent to sniff them out of habit and was surprised to find they smelled faintly of roses.
“Don’t sound so surprised. Mrs. R taught me how to make them the first day, in between card games. She has lots of craft supplies. She also provided the rosewater. She said her grandkids and great-grandkids have given her enough cologne to float an ocean liner.”
Harriet laughed.
“What? A guy can’t make paper flowers? It’s not that different from making architectural models. Paper is paper.”
“This is very unexpected…and very sweet,” she said and bent to smell them again.
She felt a gentle touch on her chin. She turned and as she did, Tom brushed his lips against hers. When she didn’t resist, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.
He broke contact and pulled back, using his fingers to brush her bangs away from her face. He searched her eyes with his.
“Are we okay?” he asked in a quiet voice.
Harriet’s cheeks had turned pink, and she could feel the heat all the way to her toes.
“We’re fine,” she said and smiled. Only a little twinge of guilt twisted her stomach.
Tom took her free hand and pulled her to her feet.
“We better get to the camp before your aunt sends a search party out after us.”
“You’re right—and, Tom…” She paused for a moment. “Thanks for bringing me here.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and walked her back to the truck.
“I designed that,” he said as he was turning the truck onto the road again.
“The bench thingy?”
“I believe the proper term is kiosk, but, yes, the bench thingy.”
“I’m impressed.”
“It was a long time ago, while I was still in college. We all had to submit designs for scenic wayside kiosks. I was lucky—mine was chosen to be implemented.”
“Now I’m really impressed.”
“It’s not like I saved the life of a tortured animal or anything.”
“Hey,” Harriet said and reached across the center console to touch his arm. “This isn’t a competition, and I certainly don’t choose my friends based on their work output.” She was quiet for a moment. “I do like your bench thingy, though.”
Tom glanced at her with a grin.
“I feel like I’m back in high school.”
“As you pointed out a few days ago, I don’t seem to have a committed relationship with anyone, so I’m free to have as many friends as I want. Can we just leave it at that?”
“As long as I get to see you, I’m fine with leaving things as they are,” he said. “For now.”
Chapter 16
Jorge’s truck was already parked near the restrooms when Tom pulled in. A blue Peterbilt truck sleeper was at the far side of the area. The couple, Harriet assumed.
Aunt Beth, Lauren and Connie stood in a half-circle near the tailgate while Jorge handed pans of food and bags of paper goods to the group from the bed of the truck.
“Did you get lost?” Aunt Beth asked.
“It’s my fault,” Tom explained. “I wanted to show Harriet a sample of my work, and we had to take a pretty long detour to get there.”
“Uh-huh,” Beth said. “We certainly didn’t see any of your work at your mother’s place.”
Harriet glared at her.
“Can we help you unload Tom’s truck?” Connie asked. “Come on, Lauren,” she added before Lauren could add her own comment about Harriet and Tom’s delay.
Joyce came out of the ladies restroom and smiled when she saw the group slowly making their way toward the trail behind the building.
“We brought you a hot meal.” Jorge raised his pan slightly.
“Oh, my,” Joyce said. “You are a welcome sight. We’ve been living off what Tom and Harriet brought, and we’re only eating two meals a day.”
“What would you have done if we hadn’t showed up?” Lauren asked.
“Lauren,” Harriet warned and glared at her.
“I’m just curious about how this all works. I’m self-employed—you never know what’s going to happen. I mean, I could end up down here with them. I need to know what preparations I should make. You know, just in case.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Did you tell the police what happened here?” Joyce asked Tom.
“We did,” Harriet answered. “They’ve got their own problems—all the detectives got stuck on the other side of the slide. We reported to the officer at the station, but he’s stuck downtown with another guy because the river overflowed the bridge right after we left. Anyway, without being able to access the station and with little communication, the police aren’t going to be any help anytime soon.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Joyce asked. “Should we bury him?”
“No!” Harriet and Lauren and Beth said at the same time.
“You can’t destroy the evidence,” Harriet added.
“I know it seems disrespectful,” Aunt Beth soothed her. “But the best thing for your friend is to figure out who killed him, and to do that the police need all the evidence they can get.”
“It doesn’t seem right to leave him lying there,” Joyce protested.
“Has anyone gone in to that stall in the restroom?” Harriet asked.
“We haven’t been using the men’s room at all, but you can see how it is. Anyone could go in if they wanted to. All they’d have to do is wait until everyone is asleep or in their own area.”
“Great,” Lauren said.
“My food is cooling,” Jorge reminded everyone.
“Oh, my, yes, let’s get the food to the group before it’s cold,” Joyce said. “I’ll call everyone while you set up. Could someone go across the parking lot and tap on the truck door?”
Tom turned and headed back. Jorge led the parade down the trail to the common area. He set his pan of burritos on the table then took the bag of paper goods from Connie. He pulled napkins and forks from the bag and set a stack of plates beside the burrito pan. Aunt Beth opened a quilted bag and drew out a carton of sour cream, two jars of salsa and a bottle of hot sauce.
“Sorry we didn’t have chips or cheese on hand,” she said.
“This looks wonderful,” Ronald said as he joined them.
“Thank you for doing this,” they heard Kate say to Tom.
“Thank the big guy,” Tom replied as they came into vie
w—accompanied by Marjory’s family.
“What…?” Lauren started to say.
“They came here to use the restrooms,” Tom told her as he came to stand by Harriet. “They were getting out of their car when I was coming back by with Kate and Owen. I told them they could have a burrito.”
Harriet looked at him, and he shrugged.
“I was feeling good and wanted to share the joy,” he said in a quiet voice only she could hear. Her cheeks reddened, but she didn’t say anything.
“As long as you’re here, I guess you can eat with us,” Beth said.
Harriet had seldom seen her aunt angry enough to deny food to hungry people, not that this particular situation had ever come up before.
Joyce returned, pushing and guiding Brandy to the table. Jorge removed the lid from the big pan and unwrapped two burritos onto a plate. He put a daub of sour cream and a splash of salsa beside them and handed the plate to Joyce. When she and Brandy were settled on a log by the fire, he prepared plates for the rest. Pat pushed Lisa up to the table, but she and Richard showed amazing restraint and went to the back of the line.
“Don’t be shy,” Jorge said and waved the group forward.
Ronald took a plate, then Owen and Kate. Joyce urged Richard and Pat to the table, and when they’d gotten their food, they went to the stump bench and started to sit down next to the truckers. Owen stood up and pulled Kate up with him, almost dumping her plate in the process.
Harriet watched the interplay between the two couples. Lisa and Pat seemed confused, but there was no mistaking the look of absolute hatred on Owen’s face as he glared at Richard. For his part, Richard studied his burrito, refusing to make eye contact with the other man.
“I forgot to lock the truck,” Owen said coldly, and they left the clearing.
Everyone was silent for a moment.
“These are delicious,” Joyce finally said. “Thank you so much for thinking of us.”
“Yes,” Pat said. “Ummm…thanks,” It seemed to pain the woman to say the word.
“Did you stay dry?” Aunt Beth asked Joyce. “During the storm and after?”
“I was up for most of the storm, so I got a little wet, in spite of my wet-weather clothes. Brandy stayed dry as a bone. And the quilts are wonderfully warm. Thank you all so much.”
“Step up,” Jorge announced. “I made enough for everyone.”
The Loose Threads and Tom helped themselves to burritos, and once they all had been served, Jorge fixed himself a plate and sat down with them.
“We thought we’d help you-all clean up the area while we’re here,” Tom said when they’d finished eating. Jorge poked at the remains of the fire, making a space between logs to feed the paper plates into the flames.
“We can definitely use the extra sets of hands,” Joyce said. “Everyone’s space has some amount of branches and debris that were blown in, and the trail has become a river of mud.”
“We brought some tools,” Tom said. “A couple of saws, some shovels, stuff like that.”
“I’ve got a wheelbarrow in my truck,” Jorge offered.
Joyce enlisted Harriet and Lauren, and they took the wheelbarrow into the woods to gather leaves and needles that could be used to recover the muddy trail. Tom and Jorge would take shovels and attempt to scrape the slurry from the top layer of the path, hoping to expose some of the buried rock beneath.
Ronald pulled a mop bucket and toilet brush from behind the log bench and stood up.
“I’ll go swab the ladies’ loo,” he announced and went down the trail toward the restrooms.
Connie and Aunt Beth began collecting errant branches from the common area, stacking them in a pile at Joyce’s direction.
When everyone had begun their tasks, Richard cleared his throat. When everyone ignored him, he went and stood in front of Joyce.
“What shall we do?” he asked.
Harriet and Lauren paused at the edge of the common area to observe the interchange.
“It looks like it’s hurting him to offer,” Lauren said with a smirk.
“I’m sure it is. Notice his wife and daughter aren’t joining him.”
The two women were, in fact, headed back toward the parking lot.
Harriet and Lauren filled their wheelbarrow several times, dumping the debris on the freshly cleared trail each time. The third time they returned, Tom stopped them before they could tilt it onto the trail.
“We’re going to see if we can shore up this muddy stretch with some of the sticks your aunt and Connie are stacking up,” he said.
“Maybe the ladies can take a small break while we find a saw and prepare our branches,” Jorge suggested.
Connie and Beth joined them in the common area. Joyce brought everyone bottled water from one of the two cases Tom had brought.
“The bathroom is sparkling clean,” Ronald said and collapsed onto the long bench next to Connie. His face was red from the exertion of walking back from the bathrooms. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you.”
“Here, have some water,” Harriet said and offered him a bottle. “Are you okay? I mean, do you need to see a doctor about your heart? We could give you a ride somewhere.”
“Thank you for your kindness, but I’m fine. Well, not fine, exactly, but I’m stable. I’m supposed to avoid stress, but as you can see, my life hasn’t cooperated with my doctor’s orders. In fact, I no longer have health insurance and, therefore, no doctor, so there is no one left to order my heart around.”
“I’m sure Joyce and the others don’t want you killing yourself just to keep the bathrooms clean,” Harriet told him.
“Of course we don’t,” Joyce agreed.
“Everyone is expected to do their share of the work around here—it won’t work any other way. Keeping the bathroom clean is the least rigorous task we have.”
Joyce looked exasperated but kept quiet.
“Maybe you could go at it a little slower,” Connie said.
“Go at what a little slower?” Tom asked as he and Jorge came back to the common area with Owen and Kate. Richard trailed them by a few feet, lingering out on the trail.
“Nothing,” Ronald said. “The ladies and I were just nattering on about our little society here.” He spread his arms wide, indicating the camp around him. “Did you come up with a saw?”
“As a matter of fact, we did,” Tom said. “We not only have the two crosscut saws I brought…” He held up two common-looking saws. “…but Owen here had a bow saw and not one but two folding pruning saws.”
Owen held up the smaller saws.
“We aim to please,” he said. “I had these in my truck in case we passed a good U-cut Christmas tree lot in the upcoming week or two.”
“Owen likes to put a tree on the back of the truck for the holidays,” Kate explained.
“Most drivers put a wreath on the front of their truck, I try to be original,” Owen said and looked at his feet. “Seems kind of trivial about now.”
“I think it sounds nice,” Aunt Beth said.
“We want to help with the cleanup,” Kate said.
Owen glanced toward the main trail, but Richard was no longer in sight.
“We need two teams of people,” Jorge said. “One group needs to cut some of the smaller branches into pieces to use for trail repair work, and the other needs to use the bigger saws to cut apart the larger limbs that are blocking the path.”
“I’ll be working on trail repair,” Tom said and took the bow saw and one pruning saw from Owen.
Harriet and Lauren stood up and crossed to stand beside him. Aunt Beth and Connie went with Jorge.
“I think Ronald needs to rest for a bit,” Joyce said after a long look studying the man.
“I agree,” Aunt Beth said. “There are more of us than we need for trail repair anyway.”
“Richard could take over our leaf-gathering,” Lauren suggested with a sly grin.
“We left the wheelbarrow down the path, just beyond Brandy’s sp
ot,” Harriet added, and put her hand up for a high-five when Joyce went to tell him. Lauren slapped her hand, and they turned to follow Tom back toward the parking lot.
“Señora Beth, Señora Connie, Señor Owen, would you care to join me behind the restrooms? I think that tree we all crawled over coming in here is our first opportunity.”
Owen passed his remaining pruning saw to Aunt Beth.
“Since you seem to have a full crew, I think I’ll go try to repair my truck heater again. I thought of another trick that might work until we can get downtown and get a replacement unit,” he said.
Tom handed Harriet a retractable tape measure and the pruning saw when they reached the pavement.
“Cut pieces of branch in two-foot lengths. To the degree possible, have the whole length be the same diameter—between one and two inches. I realize the branches are not straight, but do the best you can with them.”
Once the women started working and Tom had proclaimed them trained, he began cutting larger pieces.
“Do you and Owen come this way very often?” Harriet asked Kate as they held opposite ends of a long stick while Lauren sawed on it.
“This is my first time. I’ve only been riding in the truck with Owen for a few months.”
“It must be romantic,” Harriet said. “Going wherever the wind blows you.”
“Not really. You go where the work is, and sometimes you get stuck for days in some truck stop along the interstate, waiting for the next load to be ready.”
“That must wreak havoc with your holidays,” Lauren said.
“Except for the Christmas tree on the truck, we don’t really celebrate the holidays,” Kate admitted.
They worked in silence until they had used all the fallen branches in the immediate vicinity. Lauren straightened her back and stretched.
“I need a bathroom break,” she said and headed for the ladies’ room. A slow drizzle had begun to fall.
“I think I’ll join you,” Harriet said. She’d planned to talk to Lauren about another approach to the Halloween discussion.
An inhuman scream pierced the quiet of the park.
The Quilt Before the Storm Page 13