“Is that Carla’s vehicle?” Tom asked as he parked at the curb in front of Pins and Needles and handed Harriet her keys. He indicated an older Bronco. It was the car Aiden usually drove. A carseat was visible in the back.
“Yes, but I don’t see Carla.” She went to the store window and peered inside. It looked pretty much as they’d left it.
“Hey, Harriet.” Carla came down the sidewalk carrying a white paper bag in one hand and Wendy on her hip. “I was just picking up some day-old doughnuts from Annie’s They had them in the freezer but they’re starting to thaw so…anyway, it doesn’t matter, let’s go inside and see how the shop survived.”
A thorough inspection revealed a layer of mud in the basement but not much else. The water had come in through the street-level basement windows, bypassing the main floor. A few more inches, and things would have been very different.
“We’re going to go see if the people at the homeless camp want to help with cleanup,” Harriet told Carla.
“Wendy and I are going to drive back to Aiden’s and get a couple shovels and some buckets and stuff from the garden shed, then I’m going to drop her off at Robin’s.”
Harriet and Tom went to Fogg Park and explained their plan to Joyce. She agreed to come, but only if Brandy would come, too.
“This could be interesting,” Harriet said to Tom while Joyce was attempting to roust Brandy, but to everyone’s surprise, Brandy walked under her own power into the common area. She was holding a bottle of water in one hand and had a tattered-looking hobo-style purse slung over the opposite shoulder.
“This is as ready as I’m getting,” she said, her slur less obvious but still there.
“Let’s go, then,” Tom said. “We need to go by the church and check on Ronald. We can see if he’s recovered enough to be of any use, and we can also see if Kate and Owen are available to help.”
“Kate might, since it doesn’t involve being at the camp.”
Joyce and Brandy got into the second row of seats as Harriet again handed the keys to Tom.
“The trail repair you all did yesterday really helped,” Joyce said when they had their seatbelts buckled and were underway.
“I’m glad,” Harriet said. “I’m sure that mud is a real problem.”
“We’re used to it,” Joyce said. “It’s like this every winter.”
“I’ll have to find out what the park has to say about it,” Tom said, “but if they don’t object, I’ll come back when it dries out a little and see what can be done about putting a proper drain under that first section.”
“That sounds wonderful,” Joyce said.
“Duane could pay to have a paved highway put in,” Brandy said.
“Duane is dead, dear,” Joyce reminded her in a soothing tone and patted her hand.
“His money isn’t dead,” Brandy slurred and pulled her hand away. “It’s sure buried, though. I just need to find out where.”
“What are you talking about?” Harriet asked.
“I need a drink,” Brandy slurred, “that’s what I’m talking about.”
The women stayed in the car while Tom went into the church to check on Ronald. He was apparently feeling better—his color was improved and Harriet thought she detected a spring in his step as he followed Tom back to the car.
“You’re looking well,” she said when he was settled.
“I hate to seem like a wimp, but living indoors does seem to agree with me,” he said with a smile.
Carla was waiting in the store when they arrived. As promised, she’d brought shovels, buckets, rubber gloves, two mops and a new package of sponges.
“As I see it, there are two main tasks,” Harriet said. “First, scooping up mud and carrying it out, and then washing all the surfaces the first group removes mud from.”
She and Tom said they’d haul buckets, Ronald and Joyce took the shovels and Carla said she would wash floors. When Brandy didn’t volunteer for anything, Carla got in her face.
“Come on, Brandy,” she said, “look at me. You’re helping my daughter and me. Take a mop.”
To Harriet’s surprise, Brandy followed Carla’s orders without comment.
“I brought some bottled water,” Carla said nearly two hours later. “Anyone need a break?”
She didn’t have to ask twice. They hiked upstairs to the kitchen, and she brought out her bag of doughnuts. Harriet and Tom pulled chairs down from the tables in the classroom and, after a moment, were joined by Ronald. The older man took off his foul weather jacket and set it on the back of his chair. He wiped his brow.
“Whew, it’s hot working down there.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Harriet asked, searching his face for signs of illness.
“I’m fine,” he said, “just a little out of shape.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you making yourself sick helping us.”
“No, no, don’t worry, I know my limits and…” He patted his shirt pocket. “I have my medicine at hand if I need it. I never go anywhere without it.”
Tom had brought a plastic container of Mrs. R’s cookies with him. He opened it and set it on the table.
“I heard we may have power back today,” Ronald said as he sat down. “Have you two heard anything about when the slide might be cleared?”
“No,” Harriet answered. “All I heard about was the power. Why? Are you planning on leaving?”
He took a bite of cookie, chewing slowly.
“I’m afraid I am,” he said finally. “I’d hoped to live close enough to my daughter to be able to visit and maintain some sort of relationship, but I’m afraid my constitution isn’t up to outdoor living conditions. The young people who were here when I arrived encouraged me to join them in southern California. They said there’s a camp there that’s an easy walk to a soup kitchen, and the weather is mild year-round.”
“I’m sorry you don’t have better options here,” Harriet said.
“I had hopes it would have worked out differently. I put an application in to be a greeter at Wal-Mart, but it seems even they don’t want me.”
“Did you know Duane very well?” Harriet asked him.
“Not really. It was natural, us both being men of a certain age, that we would spend time together talking, but he wasn’t very forthcoming about his past. I could understand that. I didn’t want to relive my failures. Why would he?”
When Joyce didn’t come upstairs, Harriet excused herself and went down to see if everything was okay. She was halfway to the basement when she heard voices.
“Tell me the truth,” Joyce said. “Did you see Duane with money?”
“He had lots of money,” Brandy said, slurring the S.
“Why was he living with us in the camp if he had money?” Joyce persisted in a gentle tone. “That makes no sense. Remember what I told you about telling the truth?”
“He gave me money, but now he’s gone and I need more brandy. If I could just find the bag…”
Harriet went a few steps farther down, until she could see Brandy sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and her head resting on them.
“Don’t you go to sleep on me, Brandy,” Joyce commanded. She pinched her until the younger woman looked up, pulling her arm free in the process.
“Leave me alone.”
“I will when you tell me about Duane’s money.”
“Duane gave me money,” Brandy said. “Now he’s dead. Leave me alone.”
“Is everything okay here?” Harriet asked as she came down the last few steps.
“It’s fine,” Joyce said. “I was just trying to coax Brandy into coming upstairs to have some water.”
“I don’t want to go upstairs,” Brandy complained. “Just leave me alone.”
“Could you please bring some water bottles down here?”
Harriet went up and got two bottles of water, wrapped a half-dozen cookies in a napkin and brought it all downstairs. Neither Joyce nor Brandy was speaking, and neither thanked her w
hen she delivered the snack.
“That was weird,” she said when she was at the classroom table again.
“What?” Tom asked.
“When I was going down the stairs, I heard Brandy and Joyce arguing about Duane’s money.”
“Duane didn’t have any money,” Ronald said. “Why on earth would he be sleeping in the forest during a storm if he had the resources to be somewhere safer?”
“I don’t know,” Harriet said. “But that’s what they were arguing about.”
“Come on,” Tom said. “Let’s get this finished.”
“Would you like us to take you anywhere else while we’re in town?” Harriet asked Joyce as everyone helped load the tools back into Carla’s vehicle.
The group had removed the mud from the basement and washed the floor and walls with bleach. They decided to wait for Marjory’s input before bringing the inventory down from the attic.
“If it’s not too much trouble, could we stop by the post office?” Joyce asked.
“Sure,” Harriet said. “Anyone else?”
“The liquor store?” Brandy said, slurring the S on store.
“Got any money?” Ronald asked her.
She didn’t respond.
“Just the post office, then,” Ronald said. “I’ll go to the church shelter to get my things, but then I’ll be moving back to the park. If the power comes on, they’ll be closing the shelter in any case.”
“When the power comes back on, I’d like to have you all over for dinner at my house to thank you for all the work you’ve done,” Harriet said.
“That would be real nice,” Joyce said.
“I’m never one to turn down a meal,” Ronald agreed. “I’m sure Brandy would be happy to come, too.”
“I’ll come back for you in…let’s say…two hours after the power comes back on.”
“Our schedules are pretty flexible,” Joyce joked as Tom pulled away from the curb.
Chapter 23
“You want to go back by Jorge’s on the way home?” Tom asked when they had dropped their passengers at the church and the homeless camp.
“No, let’s let them have their space. What I’d really like to do is go see Scooter.”
Tom was silent for a few minutes.
“I take it Aiden will be there, too,” he said.
“It’s his place of work,” Harriet said. “But that’s not why I’m going there.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself? And be honest.”
“My relationship with Aiden is not at a good place,” Harriet began. “And it has nothing to do with my relationship with you. His sister is trying to con him out of his money.”
“And it’s up to you to solve that problem?” Tom asked.
“I’m his friend.”
“I suspect he and his sister have been dancing to this particular tune for a lot longer than the less than a year that you’ve known him.”
“But he’s more vulnerable since his mother died. His sister is playing on his grief.”
“So you’re going to take his mother’s place?” Tom asked.
“We’re through talking about my relationship with Aiden,” Harriet said, her face turning red with anger.
They made the rest of the drive back to Harriet’s in silence.
He parked in her driveway next to his car.
“I guess I’ll see you around, then,” he said and started to get out.
“Wait, Please.”
He sat back.
“I know I’m not explaining this right, but Aiden is in trouble. He’s angry with me, and I’m not the kind of person who can walk away mad. I need to have some sort of resolution. You knew I was in a relationship with him when you came back to town. I never kept that a secret.”
She started to go on, but he put a finger to her lips.
“You’re right, I’m pushing you, and I said I wouldn’t do that. I just hate to see you so torn up over Aiden—again. Can’t you see? Love doesn’t have to be hard. And I’m not trying to scare you with the L-word, and I’m not saying we’re there now or ever will be, but I like you and I think you like me, and I’d like to see where things might go. No stress, no drama.” When he finished talking, he moved his finger from her lips and kissed her gently.
“Go see your dog and his doctor. Resolve what you need to, and if the offer is still open, I’ll come back here for dinner when the power comes back on.”
With that, he got out of her car and into his own.
Harriet pounded her fist on the dashboard once he was out of sight.
“I do not need this,” she said to no one.
Unwilling to face Lauren, who had stayed home to keep an eye on things, much less Pat and Lisa, she got into the driver’s seat and headed down the driveway and on to the veterinary clinic. The hum of the generator greeted her as she got out.
No one was in evidence in either the waiting room or the adjoining office area.
“Anyone here?” she called. She let herself into the interior hallway and headed toward the socialization room. “Aiden?” she called out again, this time louder.
“Be there in a minute,” he called back.
Harriet went in and turned the heater on. True to his word, Aiden appeared with Scooter and his furry pad a few minutes later.
Aiden looked tired.
He sat down across the small room from her and held his hands out, warming them at the heater.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked when she could no longer stand the strained silence. “I want to talk without you saying anything until I’m finished. If you don’t like what I’m saying, when I’m done, you can get up and leave.”
He held his head in his hands then raked his fingers through his silky black hair.
“Go ahead,” he said finally.
“I know I shouldn’t be sticking my nose in your business, and I’m sorry for that. I just want to say that before I begin. I asked my aunt and Mavis about your mother and her past.”
Aiden stood up, and she could see he was about to argue. She held her hand up to silence him.
“Let me finish before you react,” she repeated quietly. “I asked my aunt and Mavis what had happened in your mother’s past that your sister could be using to try to manipulate you. They told me that she had killed a girl in France.”
Aiden’s face reddened, but he kept quiet.
“She killed a girl in an accident—a tragic, unavoidable accident. The young woman was trying to escape an abusive boyfriend and ran into the street in front of her. There was nothing she could have done. The visibility was poor, and the girl darted out.
“There were witnesses who supported your mother’s innocence, but that didn’t stop the family from dragging your mom through the French equivalent of a civil trial. It was officially declared a terrible, tragic accident.
“Your mother was devastated. Your parents decided to move to America to start over. They had you, and life went on. Your mom never forgot what had happened. That’s why she spent so much money and effort working with women’s charities.”
Harriet paused for a moment to let him absorb what she’d said.
“Carla told me your sister was working on some sort of cut-and-paste craft project in the nursery a few days ago. I’m wondering if she faked some kind of proof to convince you your mother was a murderer—but she wasn’t. Your uncle Bertie is a murderer—there’s no denying that fact—but your mother was not a killer. She was the victim of a tragic accident, just as surely as the girl who died was.”
Aiden sat in silence for a few minutes then left the room.
“I thought that went well,” Harriet said to the little dog in her lap. “He didn’t yell or grab my arm or cry, even. Well, okay, I didn’t really expect that last, but you never know. He’s going to go think about things, and when he’s calmed down, he’ll realize his sister is crazy and he shouldn’t listen to a word she says.”
She held Scooter for the rest of her allotted time, w
hich was up when a vet tech she didn’t know came to tell her the generator was about to go off again. She handed him the little dog after assuring Scooter he’d be coming home soon.
A familiar semi was parked in her driveway when she pulled into her garage, and she watched Kate and Owen approach in her rearview mirror.
“I hope you don’t mind us coming to visit,” Kate said.
“We won’t be long,” Owen added.
“Come on in,” Harriet said.
“I’d rather talk out here,” Kate said. “It looked like there were other people home, and what I have to say is for your ears only.”
“We don’t want to run into Richard Reigert’s wife or daughter. If I’m not mistaken, that’s their car in your driveway,” Owen explained.
“I have to say I noticed some animosity between you and Richard the other day.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
The door to the kitchen opened, and Lauren leaned out.
“Anyone want to come in for coffee?” she asked.
Harriet, Owen and Kate all glared at her.
“Sorry I asked,” she said and shut the door again.
“Look, we have enough problems to last a lifetime,” Owen said. “We don’t need any more, and it seems like Foggy Point has more than its share right now. We heard the electricity is about to be turned back on.”
“And they expect to get one lane of the highway open within the week,” Kate said.
“We’re going to leave as soon as we can get out,” Owen continued.
“That makes sense,” Harriet said.
“Look,” Kate told her, “when we talked at the church, I didn’t tell you the whole story, and I feel like I need to come clean before we leave town.”
“If you know something that relates to either of the murders, shouldn’t you be telling Detective Morse?”
“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone until we’re out of town,” Kate pleaded.
“Neither of us killed Duane or Richard,” Owen asserted. “But we do know Richard.”
“Richard Reigert was the man who convinced us to invest our money in the Ponzi scheme.” Kate said.
The Quilt Before the Storm Page 20