The Quilt Before the Storm

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The Quilt Before the Storm Page 22

by Arlene Sachitano


  “Okay, but you don’t get out of the car,” she ordered. “This complicates things,” she said, more to herself than to Harriet. “They’ll make it to the park ahead of us. After that, it’s anyone’s guess where they go.”

  “I got the impression Brandy usually went farther down the trail from the homeless camp.” Harriet said.

  “Do you have any idea how many hundreds of acres of forest that park has?” Morse shot back.

  “I guess not.” Harriet got her purse and keys and put on her jacket.

  “I call shotgun,” Lauren said.

  Morse rolled her eyes.

  “I suppose you’re coming along, too,” she said and looked at Tom.

  “Only if you want me to,” he replied.

  “Good, you’re staying here,” Morse said. “Let’s go.”

  Lauren grabbed her jacket and wallet.

  “Take care of Carter,” she yelled back to Tom as she went into the garage.

  “I might be able to narrow down our search area,” Harriet said as she backed out. She handed her phone to Lauren. “Call Aiden.”

  Lauren keyed her way to Harriet’s favorites list and touched Aiden’s name on the screen. She handed the phone back.

  “I need your help,” Harriet said when he answered. “You said you ran on every trail in Foggy Point when you were on the cross-country team in high school…Can you think of a particular trail in Fogg Park, near the homeless camp, that would lend itself to hiding cash?…I realize it’s not much to go on…Okay, we’ll see you there.”

  “Please tell me he’s not joining us,” Detective Morse said.

  “He said there’s a place that isn’t too far beyond the homeless camp. There was a student-run drug operation when he was in high school. They hid their inventory in a small cave off one of the trails. He said the group was broken up and the kids sent off to jail. He said it was easier to show us then to try to describe it.”

  “Oh, great.” Morse sank lower into her seat.

  “There’s the jeep,” Harriet said as she turned her car into Fogg Park. Aiden guided his vintage Bronco in right behind her.

  “That was quick,” Lauren said.

  “You two stay here,” Detective Morse said as Harriet and Lauren got out of the car.

  “What’s going on?” Aiden said.

  “Two of the homeless people disappeared, and we think the guy was forcing the girl to lead him to a stash of money that may or may not exist and was or wasn’t stashed in the woods by the homeless man who was killed during the storm,” Harriet said in a rush.

  “What?”

  “Let’s just go look for the people,” Detective Morse said.

  Aiden started down the trail at a ground-eating pace; Morse struggled to keep up. Harriet and Lauren went to the common area of the camp.

  “Do you think Ronald killed Duane?” Lauren asked her.

  “I don’t know. It could just be that he wants Duane’s money—if there is money.”

  “But they had some sort of connection,” Lauren argued.

  “You’d think if they knew each other, Ronald would have known about the money.”

  “I suppose Brandy could be messed up enough to have imagined it all,” Lauren mused.

  “Let’s go check out Brandy’s space again,” Harriet said and pulled a small flashlight from her purse. “Who knows what else she has hidden in there.”

  She led the way down the trail.

  “What was that?” Lauren asked as they reached Brandy’s space.

  “What was what?” Harriet asked.

  “Shhh,” Lauren said.

  The two women stopped, and Harriet strained to hear what Lauren was talking about.

  “If I had a drink, I know I could find it,” Brandy said in her customary slur.

  The sound of a slap echoed through the woods.

  “I’ll give you a drink, alright,” Ronald boomed. “You show me where Duane hid his money, and you can drown in it, for all I care.”

  “It’s hard to see in the dark,” Brandy whimpered.

  Harriet shone her light around the young woman’s campsite, stopping at one place where the branches that formed the backdrop of her sleeping area were broken in a regular pattern.

  “Look,” she said to Lauren. “It looks like there might be a trail through here.”

  They pushed their way through the brush, following the direction of the broken branches, and soon found themselves on a cleared trail that was above and parallel to a wider trail.

  “That must be a branch of the main trail,” Lauren whispered.

  They heard the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping flesh.

  “Come on,” Harriet said then stopped suddenly and pointed.

  They were directly above Ronald and Brandy—and Ronald’s gun. He poked the young woman in the ribs with the barrel.

  “Okay, okay,” Brandy cried. “It’s ahead. You have to move that log to the side.”

  “Oh, young lady, you don’t think I’m going to fall for such a simple ruse, do you? As soon as I bend over to move the log, you either hit me in the head or take off down the trail.”

  “No, I wouldn’t lie to you, really. I promise,” Brandy whined.

  “Let her go,” Detective Morse said. She and Aiden had appeared from a side trail. Morse was holding a nasty-looking black gun in her hand.

  “It seems we have a standoff,” Ronald said. “Take another step closer, and I shoot the girl. Walking in the woods is not a crime, so you see, you really have no business here.”

  “If you’re not doing anything wrong, let the girl go.” Morse said in a level voice.

  “I think we both know I can’t do that.” He pointed the gun at Brandy’s head. “Now, step back and put your gun down, or this ends very badly for my young friend.”

  Morse backed up and slowly set her gun on the trail in front of her.

  Ronald had his back to Harriet and Lauren. Detective Morse was focused on Ronald. Aiden looked up and caught Harriet’s eye. He remained motionless, giving no indication that he’d seen anything.

  Harriet backed up slightly, pushing Lauren backward until they were out of sight of either group below.

  “What are you doing?” Lauren whispered.

  “Morse doesn’t have any backup coming,” Harriet whispered back. “Even if we left here undetected—where would we go? Who would we call?”

  “So, what’s the plan, Ace?”

  Harriet looked around.

  “We could hit him with rocks,” she suggested.

  “And he could shoot Brandy as a result.”

  “He’s likely to do that anyway. He’s got nothing to lose. And Aiden spotted us. He can distract Ronald, and we can hit him with a rock.”

  “Are you nuts?”

  “Maybe,” Harriet whispered. “But if we use a big enough rock, we don’t have to be very accurate.”

  “We both know you have no backup,” Ronald said to Detective Morse. “And I’m thinking the fact you showed up at this exact location means you have some reason to believe this is, in fact, where Duane hid his money. I’ve been patient with you, but frankly I’m getting cold. So, what’s it going to be? Will I shoot you all? Or will you move this log for me and fetch the money?”

  Morse looked at Aiden.

  “We better move the log,” she said.

  Harriet gestured at a large rock that was at the side of the trail. It took both of them to pick it up. They shuffled into position directly above Ronald.

  Harriet looked at Aiden; he gave the slightest of nods.

  On three, she mouthed.

  They swung their rock back, forward, back again then launched it over the bank and onto Ronald.

  Aiden sprang forward as the rock crashed into Ronald’s back, forcing him to his knees. The gun fell from his hand, and Aiden kicked it toward Detective Morse as he attempted to haul Ronald to his feet. Ronald’s face had gone white.

  “His heart medicine is in his pocket,” Harriet said.


  Aiden fished in Ronald’s pockets until he found the pills. He opened the tube with one hand and tipped one out. He pushed it between Ronald’s lips, but Ronald promptly spat it out. Aiden pulled out another one then pinched Ronald’s nose closed before pushing the second one between his lips.

  Ronald gasped, and the pill disappeared.

  “You’re not taking the easy way out,” Aiden said and pulled him to his feet.

  Detective Morse took a pair of handcuffs from her belt and secured them around Ronald’s wrists.

  Harriet and Lauren backtracked through Brandy’s sleeping space then down the trail into the woods, making several turns based on where they now knew the rest were.

  “That was a risky move,” Morse said after she had finished reciting the Miranda warning to Ronald. “You’re very lucky it worked out.”

  “I think you’re the lucky one,” Aiden told her.

  Harriet felt the weight on her heart lift a little.

  “This guy could have shot us all.”

  “And would have,” Ronald said, puffing his chest out.

  “Did I mention…” Morse asked, looking at Ronald, “…you have the right to remain silent? I suggest you exercise that right.”

  “You want me to move the log?” Aiden asked.

  Morse sighed a world-weary sigh.

  “Given the resources I have at the moment, there’s little chance I can secure this crime scene, so yes, go ahead and move the log and see what’s behind it.”

  “I can help,” Brandy offered.

  “I think you’ve helped enough for one night,” Detective Morse said.

  “I need a drink,” Brandy mumbled.

  Aiden swung the log toward the clearing and pulled out several large dried fir boughs; his torso disappeared into the hillside. He backed out a moment later, a bulky leather messenger bag in his hands.

  “Jackpot,” he said and handed the bag to Morse.

  Jane Morse opened the bag’s flap. The bag was stuffed with stacks of bills. Harriet couldn’t see what the denomination was, but there was a lot of money in the bag, in any case.

  “Harriet, could you drop us at the jail, please?” Detective Morse asked. “I want Darcy to process my vehicle as part of the crime scene.”

  “Sure, but what about Brandy?”

  “She’s home, isn’t she?”

  “Oooh, that’s cold,” Lauren said.

  “How about I take you and this guy,” Aiden said, “and Harriet can take Brandy and Lauren back to wherever they were before this all started.”

  “That works,” Morse said.

  Harriet and Lauren told their story to the group gathered in Harriet’s dining room at least four times before Aunt Beth finally said, “Enough.”

  “I think it’s time to have that pie now,” Mavis said.

  “I’ll get the dishes,” Harriet said.

  “You’ll do no such thing, chiquita.” Jorge followed Mavis into the kitchen.

  “Here, take this little rat,” Tom said and plopped the freshly walked Carter into Lauren’s lap. “He whined the whole time you were gone.”

  “That’s a fact,” Connie said.

  “Well, I’m back, and as soon as we have our pie, we’re going back to our house. We’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

  Mavis and Jorge served cherry pie to everyone then helped themselves to pieces. Then, one by one, the dinner guests left, with Tom giving Brandy and Joyce a ride back to the homeless camp before heading back to the Renfros’.

  Chapter 24

  Two days later, Robin called with the news everyone had been waiting for. The highway out of Foggy Point was open again—only one lane, and there were frequent delays to allow the dump trucks that were hauling the tons of soil and rock to get through, but open.

  With weekends and power outages, Marjory’s seventy-two-hour hold had turned into one hundred and twenty-eight hours, not including the two extra days she spent in a motel because of the slide, but at long last she was coming home. Aunt Beth called the Loose Threads to convey the message she had secured Marjory’s permission to bring the fabric down from the attic. All the Threads who were in town agreed to meet at nine o’clock to start working.

  “It’ll take Robin two hours to get there, and then two hours back plus a little if they stop for coffee,” Aunt Beth said as she and Harriet got out of her silver Beetle. “We should be able to get a real good start before she gets back.”

  “Hey,” Carla said when they came through the shop door. Wendy was perched on her hip.

  “Rod will be here in a few minutes,” Connie said. Rod was the official grandfather to every small child he knew, and Wendy was not immune to his charm. “He plans on wheeling her around to look at storm damage downtown. You did bring the stroller, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, yes,” Carla said. “Wendy’s looking forward to it.”

  “Did you ever have a chance to check on Sarah?” Harriet asked Connie.

  “We went to the house where she’s staying, but she only cracked the door open. I couldn’t see her very well, and she insisted she was fine, but she didn’t sound fine.”

  “I wonder what that means.”

  “I’m not sure what else to do. I asked her if she needed anything, but she said no.” Connie was clearly worried.

  Harriet couldn’t think of anything short of an all-out intervention, and she wasn’t ready to suggest that option.

  The rest of the group arrived and divided up the tasks involved in reversing the process they’d done a few short days before.

  “Harriet and I will take the stairs,” Lauren said.

  “I can do the cart again,” Carla said.

  Aunt Beth, Mavis and Connie set the fabric back on the shelves, neatly tucking the raw edges under before sliding the bolts side-by-side into the metal uprights that kept them from tipping over.

  “Have you talked to Aiden since the Ronald takedown?” Lauren asked Harriet.

  “No, but then, I didn’t expect to.”

  “Really?”

  “Okay, so maybe I thought he’d call, but he didn’t.”

  “Carla!” Lauren yelled down the stairs when she saw the cart through the opening in the attic floor. “Have you heard any more conversations between Aiden and his sister?”

  “She took off the other night. She was gone when I got back from the power’s-on party.”

  “Wow,” Harriet said. “Did you hear anything before that?”

  “They had a fight, but all I heard was Aiden saying he didn’t know who to trust anymore. She started using language that wasn’t appropriate for Wendy’s little ears, so I had to turn the intercom down, and by the time I got Wendy doing something in the other room and came back, their fight was over, or they had moved out of range.”

  “He’ll settle down once he’s had a few days without her,” Aunt Beth said from down below. She’d come up beside Carla. “If I know that boy, he’ll do his own research. He’ll find out the truth. He’s an emotional one at first—that’s what makes him such a good veterinarian—but he’s also very analytical. He won’t do anything without checking his facts, and then Michelle will be out on her ear.”

  “I hope so,” Harriet said.

  “Why don’t you gals come on down for a break? Mavis went down the street to pick up doughnuts.” She looked at her watch. “Marjory should be getting here pretty soon, anyway.”

  “How’s it looking down there?” Lauren asked.

  “Come see for yourself. There’s still work to be done, but it’s taking shape.”

  The Threads assembled in the larger classroom, each with their favorite hot beverage in front of them.

  “Can anyone join this party?” Jane Morse said as she came into the room. “I ran into Mavis at the bakery, and she invited me to stop by for doughnuts. The shop’s looking better.”

  “Marjory’s lucky the water stayed in the basement,” Connie said.

  “She’s lucky to have a group of friends like you.”

>   Mavis came in with the doughnuts, which cut off all thought of conversation while everyone made their selections and took their first sugary bites.

  Finally, Morse sat back in her chair.

  “I hate to admit this, but given our extreme conditions and our unusual situation, I couldn’t have taken Ronald into custody without your help. Thank you.”

  “That was all Harriet and Lauren,” Connie said.

  “I know, but as usual, you all played a role along the way.”

  “Cut to the chase,” Lauren prompted. “We’ve got more fabric to put away.”

  Morse smiled. “I was going to give you a lecture on how you shouldn’t involve yourselves in police business, but I suppose it won’t do any good, and in any case, as I said, you did play a role, so I suppose you deserve to know what happened.”

  “Ronald is the campground killer, right,” Lauren said.

  “It does appear that way. Of course, he needs to be tried by a jury of his peers,” Morse reminded her.

  “The question is why,” Mavis said.

  “You know part of it,” Morse continued. “Pat Reigert told you her husband Richard was in trouble, headed for jail.”

  “She said something about trying to buy back time,” Harriet said.

  “He was one of three men involved in a Ponzi scheme. Ronald was one partner, and Duane was the third.”

  “Duane?” Aunt Beth sounded shocked. “He seemed like such a nice man.”

  “In the end, he was the only one with a shred of conscience. He wanted out, and the other two said no. They, of course, were living on the money people were investing in good faith, all the while mailing their victims monthly statements showing amazing gains.”

  “Don’t those investors ever stop and wonder why their fund is doing so much better than everyone else’s?” Harriet asked.

  “There are two kinds of people who fall for Ponzi schemes—the very greedy and the very naive.” Morse said.

  “So, how did Duane end up in a homeless camp?” Harriet asked.

  “All evidence points to the fact that Duane wanted out and he was trying to give back as much money as he could. That list on his phone was the people he was sending money to. It’s going to take months to sort out all the details, but we think he tricked the tricksters.”

 

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