Quilt by Association

by Arlene Sachitano

  "How's the quilt coming?” Harriet asked.

  "It's coming. Of course, I keep stopping and looking out the window, but otherwise I'm moving along."

  "I wish we could help,” Mavis said.

  "You are helping—keeping Harriet safe."

  Harriet and Mavis shared a guilty smile then said their goodbyes to Aunt Beth.

  "How about we let you rest a while and then decide about dinner,” Mavis suggested.

  "I hate to admit it, but I think I could use a little rest."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 37

  Mavis was asleep in the padded rocker in Aunt Beth's living room, her feet up on a tapestry-covered hassock, when Harriet shifted slightly and the edge of a cushion poked her sore kidney. She'd been napping on the sofa but awoke with a start at the sudden pain. She scooted carefully into a sitting position and reached for her aunt's netbook.

  A few keystrokes woke the computer and returned her to the search she'd been working on. She quietly worked while her friend napped.

  "Oh, my gosh,” she said out loud. Mavis woke with a start. “I'm sorry,” Harriet said when she realized she'd awakened her.

  "What happened?” Mavis asked then noticed the computer.

  "I think I've found something about Iloai. I've been looking at missing children listings and websites related to the South Pacific. I found something on a missing person bulletin board. The timeline works, and the description could be Iloai."

  "Let me see,” Mavis said. She shook her pant legs straight and shifted her weight back and forth, restoring the circulation to her feet, then moved over next to Harriet.

  The computer screen showed a grainy family photo; two adults and five children were grouped in front of a palm tree. One of the children looked to be around the right age, but the photo was too blurry to tell if it could be Iloai.

  Harriet shifted to the next screen. It was a bulletin board posting asking for any information on a three-year-old girl who had disappeared from an early childhood education program in American Samoa.

  "Well, you're right. It could be her. Or not, unfortunately,” Mavis said thoughtfully.

  "I think I'll call Lauren."

  "Good idea—and see if she's eaten yet. Maybe she'd like to eat with us."

  Harriet called, and with only a few pithy remarks, Lauren agreed to come have a look at what they'd found and to stay for dinner.

  "If it's okay with you, I think I'll go look over what Beth has in her freezer and see if I can put together a home-cooked meal for us,” Mavis said. “I like Jorge's food as well as the next person, but I always eat more than I should. I can put his goodies in the freezer, and you and Beth could have them tomorrow."

  She got up and went to the small but efficient kitchen. She returned a few minutes later.

  "I called Beth, and she has a meat loaf in the freezer and I can make mashed potatoes and gravy, but that will take an hour to bake, or I can thaw some chicken in the microwave and then sauté it with some vegetables and we can put it on rice."

  "Since my aunt undoubtedly has a selection of those precut, pre-cleaned veggie bags, the chicken would probably be the easiest. She has an electric rice cooker, too, doesn't she?"

  "She does, indeed,” Mavis replied. “Do you need anything else before I get started?"

  She brought Harriet a glass of water then went back to the kitchen to prepare their meal. Lauren arrived a few minutes later.

  "Door's open,” Harriet called at the knock on the front door.

  "Show me what you've got,” she said without preamble.

  Harriet refreshed the screen and turned it toward her, and she read in silence for a few moments.

  "I don't know, Harriet. The dates do fit, but this picture could be anyone."

  "But you agree it could be Iloai?"

  "It could. Let me see if I can sharpen this up a little.” She e-mailed the picture to herself then pulled her own full-sized laptop from her shoulder bag. She turned it on and booted it up.

  "Do you know the password to your aunt's wireless?” she asked Harriet.

  "Quiltbag,” Mavis called out from the kitchen.

  Harriet and Lauren were silent for a moment, and then both burst out laughing as Lauren keyed in the code. Her fingers flew over the keys then stopped. She stared at the screen and chewed on her bottom lip. She tapped a few more keys then turned her computer toward Harriet.

  "This is as good as I can get it without additional software that I don't have on my laptop. I don't think we'll need to do that, though."

  Harriet looked. Lauren was right. The sharper image showed a child that could be a twin to Iloai.

  "Wow,” she said. “This definitely complicates things."

  "Makes you wonder exactly what Joseph's been up to all these years, doesn't it?” Lauren said.

  "It makes me wonder how we're going to break the news to DeAnn and her family."

  "Easy,” Lauren said. “We're not going to break anything to anybody. That's not our job."

  "We can't just sit on this,” Harriet argued.

  "It must be a real burden running the whole world,” Lauren said.

  "Are you suggesting we ignore this?"

  "Of course not, I'm not heartless. I just have my ego in check."

  "So?"

  "So, we show this to the detective. Someone needs to verify it, and then someone needs to arrest our buddy Joseph."

  "It's so hard to believe Joseph could do that to DeAnn and then come around asking the Loose Threads to make quilts for him a week later."

  "Hello! It's the baby he did something to. DeAnn's known the kid for...what? A week? The poor kid got ripped from what looks like a large loving family, and who knows when that actually happened."

  "I thought we agreed the dates matched between the family's missing child report and DeAnn's adoption."

  "Those dates match, but according to the internet, these child theft scams usually involve some sort of school or healthcare deception. The family thinks their child is going to a larger clinic for some bogus health problem, or going for special evaluation or schooling in a larger city. They have every expectation their child will return in a few days or a few weeks, if not months. By the time the family realizes their child is actually missing, a lot of time has passed and the trail is cold."

  "Are you ladies ready for an appetizer?” Mavis asked from the kitchen, and before Harriet or Lauren could answer, she brought a plate that held small slices of smoked Gouda cheese, water crackers and a small bunch of grapes.

  "This should hold you until dinner's ready, which shouldn't be too much longer. If Aiden calls, tell him I've got enough for him, too."

  Aiden did call just as they were sitting down to eat. He assured Harriet he could be there before they had their napkins unfolded. Mavis dished up a plate for him and put it in the oven to keep warm, but he arrived before the women were half through with their meal.

  "Things are pretty calm over at your place,” he said to Harriet when he was seated at the table. “Your aunt was going to leave a half-hour after I did. The police figure Joseph will wait until he thinks ‘Harriet’ is alone."

  "Is this where the party is?” Aunt Beth asked as she let herself in the front door a short while later. “I was booted off the quilting machine for the night by Harriet's clone."

  "I told them the police are trying to sweeten the trap for Joseph,” Aiden said. “If he's bought the clone act, he needs to think she's alone."

  "The real action's been over here, anyway,” Lauren said. She proceeded to explain what she and Harriet had uncovered about DeAnn's new daughter.

  "That's bizarre,” Aunt Beth said when Lauren had finished the story.

  Aiden pulled Aunt Beth's step stool from its place in her broom closet and unfolded it next to Harriet's chair.

  "Slide around here and put your bad foot up on this. If we're going to sit out here, you need to keep your ankle elevated."

  "Does anyone else thin
k it's weird that we have two baby dramas going on at the same time in one small town?” Harriet asked when she was settled. “Frankly, the odds of having two murders and two baby situations at the same time have to be astronomical."

  "You've been a one-woman crime wave since you moved back to Foggy Point,” Lauren offered. Mavis glared at her until she looked away. “You can't tell me it hasn't crossed anyone else's mind,” she muttered without looking up.

  "Beth and I had the same conversation the day before yesterday,” Mavis said referring to Harriet's comment. “You're right—the chances of adoption fraud, a baby con and two murders happening at the same time and not being connected are pretty small. The problem is, no matter how we rearranged what we knew, we couldn't get the dots to connect."

  "There has to be a connection between Neelie, Rodney and Joseph, but what it is—or was—is anyone's guess,” Harriet said. “I heard her arguing on the phone with someone when she was staying at Aiden's, but after I met Rodney, I assumed it was him. I suppose it could have been Joseph."

  "I can look him up on the internet and see what I can find out about him,” Lauren offered. “It'll take a little while, though."

  "If Neelie was in foster care here, I suppose it's possible she and Joseph knew each other before she turned eighteen,” Harriet said.

  "She would have been underage when they had whatever relationship they had,” Aiden pointed out.

  "That's creepy,” Harriet said.

  "Anyone want tea or coffee?” Aunt Beth asked.

  Everyone stated their preference and retreated to the living room except Mavis, who was clearing the table and loading the dishwasher while Beth made coffee and the beverages.

  "So, Iloai really was stolen?” Aiden said when he finished looking at Lauren's sharpened photo. “Wow."

  Harriet's phone rang, and she struggled to twist around and reach it off the end table. Aiden picked it up and held it out to her.

  "Hello,” she said after she'd keyed it on. She listened in silence. “Okay, thanks,” she said. “Sure, we'll be up.” She ended the call and looked at her assembled friends.

  "They caught Joseph,” she said.

  "What?” Aunt Beth said. “Who was that?"

  "It was Detective Morse. She didn't have time to talk, but she wanted us to know Joseph is in custody and it's safe to return to my house. As they expected, he approached the studio a short while after you all left, and they apparently grabbed him without incident."

  "What a relief,” Mavis said. “Now we can concentrate on getting our quilts done."

  "Did he say anything?” Aiden asked.

  "If he did, she didn't tell me. She said she'd call back in a couple of hours if we were still going to be up. I told her we would be."

  "I'm going back over to the studio, then,” Beth said. “Phyl's quilt isn't difficult, but time is getting short. I can get another hour or two in while we wait for Jane to call."

  "I'm coming, too,” Harriet said.

  "No, you're not,” chorused Mavis, Beth and Aiden.

  "You still have to rest,” Aunt Beth said. “You don't need to be moving home in the middle of the night."

  "Eight o'clock. That's the middle of the night?"

  Aunt Beth picked up her bag and left, ending Harriet's protests.

  "I better get going, too.” Lauren said, and stood up. “By the way, I didn't get anywhere with Neelie Obote."

  "Oh, I almost forgot,” Harriet said. “I have a better name for her."

  "Oh, great—and you were going to tell me when?"

  "Hey, we just found out this afternoon."

  "Things like that I need to know right away. That could have saved me hours of searching."

  "I'm sorry. Do you want to know her name or not?"

  "Fine,” Lauren said then listened in relative silence as Mavis and Harriet related the information they'd learned about Nancy Lou Freeman.

  "Let me see what I can do with this,” she said. “Thanks for dinner."

  "How are the dogs doing?” Harriet asked Aiden when they were alone in the living room.

  "I think we're finally turning the corner on most of them—physically, anyway. Now we begin the process of trying to figure out who is mentally well enough to be adopted and who will need socialization."

  He was describing the process he went through trying to decide if a rescue dog was ready to be adopted when the doorbell sounded. Aiden got up and opened the door, letting Detective Jane Morse in.

  "I hope you don't mind my coming by,” she said. “I know I said I would call, but I had to come right by here on my way home, so I thought I'd stop."

  "Would you care for some tea or coffee?” Mavis asked from the kitchen door.

  "Tea sounds good,” said Detective Morse. Her medium-length brown hair was swept back from her face and probably had covered her ears at the start of her day. Now, one ear poked out between drooping strands, dark smudges shadowed her eyes and her lipstick had worn off. It was clear she had put in a long, hard day.

  Aiden's cell phone rang. He spoke in low tones for a moment then ended the call.

  "I'm sorry, but I have to go. That was one of the techs at the clinic. One of my patients chewed her stitches out. I need to go sew her back up."

  "Harriet will be going to bed early,” Mavis said as she brought a plate of ginger cookies from the kitchen and set them in front of the detective.

  Aiden looked at Harriet, and they both smiled.

  "I'll pick you up tomorrow around ten,” he said.

  Mavis raised her eyebrows at Harriet as Aiden turned and left.

  "I know you and my aunt think my sprained ankle and bruised kidney rendered me mentally incompetent, and I do appreciate everything you're doing for me, but I made arrangements to go to breakfast with Aiden in the morning."

  "No one said you couldn't,” Mavis said and returned to the kitchen.

  "I don't mean to sound like a broken record,” Morse said, “but can you think of any reason why Joseph Marston would be so determined to talk to you?"

  "I'm sorry,” Harriet said. “I've given it a lot of thought, and I keep coming up empty. I barely know the man. I did go to his house, but I didn't see anything, I didn't hear anything. I'd never been there before the night I was attacked."

  "Maybe you saw something and don't realize it,” she suggested.

  "I can't imagine what it could be."

  "Anything could be significant,” Morse said, “even if it doesn't seem like it right now."

  "What did Joseph say when he was arrested?” Harriet asked.

  Jane Morse paused while Mavis brought her a cup of tea on a saucer that held two sugar cubes and a teaspoon as well as the cup.

  "Joseph isn't saying anything,” she said.

  "That says something in itself, doesn't it?” Mavis asked.

  "No, I mean he isn't saying anything—not asking for a lawyer, not proclaiming his innocence, not asking to use the bathroom. He's being evaluated, but I think he's had some sort of breakdown."

  "Is there any chance we have it backwards?” Harriet asked.

  "What do you mean?” Morse asked.

  "What if Rodney is the bad guy here? Maybe he came to collect Neelie, and she didn't want to go, so he killed her. Neelie might have turned to Joseph for help when she realized Rodney had followed her to town. Rodney saw her talking to Joseph and decided he had to eliminate him, too. Maybe he went to Joseph's to kill him, and Joseph somehow got the upper hand and killed Rodney instead. Then he freaked out and ran."

  "That's a nice theory, but do you have real evidence to support it?” Morse asked.

  "A week ago Friday, we had a shower for our friend DeAnn. Neelie was staying at Aiden's house at that point. She left during the shower, supposedly to buy baby formula. I later learned she was seen during that time having lunch with a guy who matched Joseph's description. I don't know what they were talking about, but it proves they knew each other."

  "We also know Rodney was probably Neel
ie's pimp,” Mavis added.

  "You ladies have certainly been busy,” Detective Morse said. “What else have you learned about the players in this case that you haven't told me?"

  Harriet and Mavis gave her a quick rundown of the call from Jasmine and their visit with Neelie's foster mother.

  "Even if Neelie and Joseph knew each other, it's still a big leap to him trying to help her escape Rodney Miller and killing him in the process."

  "In any case, it should be safe for me to go back to my house, shouldn't it?” Harriet asked.

  "I wish I could say an unqualified yes, but until we can interview Marston, I'm afraid we just don't know. I'd feel better if we knew why he was so desperate to talk to you."

  "We may never know that, though, right?” Harriet persisted.

  "Unfortunately, that is a real possibility, given the state of things. With Neelie Obote and Rodney Miller both dead and Joseph Marston unwilling or unable to speak, we don't have a lot to go on. Of course, we'll question everyone who knew them again and see if we can uncover anything new, but for now we wait to see if Joseph comes back from wherever he's gone."

  "Can we do anything to help?” Mavis asked.

  "I can't think of anything,” Morse said. “We don't know why Marston would have attacked Harriet, but we don't have any evidence that anyone else was involved, and with him in custody, it would seem the immediate threat is over."

  "Hopefully, life can return to normal around here,” Mavis said. “We have a dog adoption fundraiser to put on."

  "I heard about that. Do you have any more of the quilts here?"

  "The ones we have are at my studio,” Harriet said. “You're welcome to drop by and see them if you want. I should have them all by Monday afternoon. We have to hang them at the community center so the judges can decide which one will be chosen to be the raffle quilt. We'll sell tickets on that one for the next six months or so, but the rest will be auctioned next Saturday at the benefit dinner."

  "I'll try to get over there,” Morse said. “And thanks for cooperating.” She drained the remains of her tea and stood up.

  "Here, I'll take your cup.” Mavis did so then escorted her to the front door. “So, you were playing nice,” she said to Harriet when the detective was gone.