Stitched Together

by Carol Dean Jones

  When they returned from their walk, the phone was ringing.

  “Mrs. Parker, this is Cornelius Higginbottom calling.”

  “Cornelius, I’m surprised to hear from you. Please call me Sarah. We’re all friends, you know.”

  “I know. I was just brought up to be more formal than people are these days. Anyway, Sophie wanted me to call you. There’s been an accident.”

  Chapter 31

  Sarah was frantic as she drove to the hospital. Cornelius said that Sophie had fallen, but beyond that he didn’t give her any details, saying instead that she needed to come right away.

  Every possible disastrous scenario had gone through her mind. She arrived at the hospital within twenty minutes of Cornelius’s call and rushed to the information desk. “I’m here to see Sophie Ward. She was brought in earlier this evening.”

  The woman clicked here and there on her computer, sighed a few times, and finally said, “Ah, here she is. She hasn’t been admitted. You can find her in the Emergency Room. Are you family?”

  “Absolutely!” Sarah called over her shoulder as she ran up the hall toward the Emergency Room. She had been to the ER previously but only for minor things. She was shocked when she walked into the waiting room and was faced with total chaos. People were being wheeled in on gurneys and rushed through doors marked “Staff Only.” Nurses holding charts were taking down information from patients who were waiting to be treated.

  Sarah, trying not to panic, made her way to the desk and pleaded for attention. Finally a nurse turned her way saying, “May I help you?”

  “My friend, Sophie. Sophie Ward. Is she okay? What’s happened?” Her voice was shaking, but she tried to appear calm. “Is … is she alive?”

  “Sophie Ward?” The woman looked surprised. “Of course she’s alive. She has a bump on her head.” She then chuckled saying, “Quite a character, that Sophie Ward. Are you a relative?”

  “I’m a close friend. These people look seriously injured. Are you sure Sophie just has a bump on her head?”

  “Oh, your friend wasn’t involved in this accident,” the nurse said reassuringly. “This was a twenty-car pileup on the interstate. Mrs. Ward got here before that, and she’s already been seen by the doctor. She’s probably ready to go home, but let me check with the nurse.” She made a call and turned to Sarah, saying, “You can go on in. They’re keeping her for a while for observation; she may have had a mild concussion. Go through that door and ask the nurse to take you to her.”

  “Thank you so much,” Sarah said, looking relieved and wishing Cornelius hadn’t been so cryptic on the phone. He could have saved her a great deal of stress by simply telling her what had happened. She suddenly realized that she still didn’t know why Sophie had a bump on her head, but at least she’d been reassured that it wasn’t too serious.

  As she entered the treatment area, she saw Cornelius standing by one of the cubicles holding his hat and looking worried. The curtains were drawn.

  “What happened, Cornelius? You’ve had me really worried.”

  “Sorry. She said to call you and have you come right over. That’s what I did, and here you are.” He smiled, appearing to appreciate his competent handling of Sophie’s request.

  “Okay, Cornelius. But I still don’t know what happened. Sit down over here with me and tell me the whole story from the beginning.” It appeared she would have to walk him through it if she was ever going to get any details. “From the beginning,” she reiterated.

  “Well, I picked her up this morning around 8:30 or maybe closer to 9:00 …”

  “Not that far back, Higgy. May I call you Higgy?

  “You might as well,” he said, sighing. He was getting used to the loss of his real name.

  “Now start with the accident. What happened?”

  “Okay. We were at the restaurant. I was helping her up out of her chair. I was reaching for her cane—you know, the sparkly one with all the …”

  “Yes, Higgy. I know the one. What happened?”

  “Well, I was reaching for it when my hat fell off. It landed on the floor right where Sophie was getting ready to step. I screamed ‘Don’t step there!’ and she sort of—I don’t know—lost her balance? Anyway, she came tumbling down and hit her head on the table next to us. She landed on my hat …” he said as he held the hat out for Sarah to see the damage. “I tried to catch her, but I couldn’t. It took a bunch of us to get her up and get the hat and cane out from under her.”

  “How badly is she hurt? The nurse said something about a mild concussion?”

  “Yeah. They’re watching her now. They took some pictures of her head, scans I think.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” he asked, looking confused.

  “What were the results of the tests?” This is like pulling teeth, Sarah thought. She still didn’t know why Sophie wanted her to come in such a hurry.

  “She’s fine,” he finally responded.

  About that time, the curtain opened and two nurses came out shaking their heads. Sarah walked over and peeked in.

  “Get me out of here,” were Sophie’s only words when she saw Sarah. She then turned to Cornelius, who hovered by the door, and said firmly, “Out! We need to do girl talk.”

  Cornelius nodded and immediately withdrew from the cubicle.

  “Close the curtain,” Sophie said as soon as he was gone. After impatiently answering Sarah’s question, she said, “Just listen a minute. Dr. Waller said I can’t be alone for the next forty-eight hours. I need your help.”

  “Of course! I’ll stay with you Sophie. I’d be very happy to …”

  “Nope. That’s not the question.”

  “Okay, what is the question?”

  For one moment, Sarah thought she saw Sophie blush, but she had turned away and Sarah couldn’t be sure. “It’s just that … well … Higgy offered to stay with me. I didn’t know what to do, so I told him to call you.”

  “This is no problem, Sophie. You don’t need for Higgy to stay. I’ll be very happy to stay with you. I can come to your house, or you can come to mine …”

  “You’re missing the point. I want Higgy to take care of me. I just don’t know if he should.” She dropped her head, looking something between embarrassed and playful. “What should I do?”

  Sarah smiled, knowing just what Sophie was going through. These were the very issues she had struggled with for several years. “What does your heart tell you?” Sarah responded.

  “My heart tells me I really care about this silly galoot.”

  “And just because he’s taking care of you for a few days doesn’t mean you have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

  “True,” Sophie responded. “You think it’s okay then?”

  “I think whatever you decide to do is just fine. And remember, I’m right across the street if you need me.”

  “Thanks for coming over, kid. You’re a good friend,” she added with a giggle.

  She giggled, Sarah said to herself as she headed for the car. Sophie actually giggled! Will wonders never cease?

  Sarah didn’t get home until nearly midnight. John was waiting in the living room. “Thank goodness you’re home! I was worried about you.”

  “I’m sorry. I was so upset when I left, I didn’t think to leave you a note.” She told him what had happened and that Sophie was on her way home.

  “If they think it might be a concussion, she shouldn’t be alone.”

  “I know. I offered to stay with her, but she’s decided to accept Higgy’s offer of assistance.” She smiled at John and added, “I think she’s smitten.”

  “Good for her! You’re never too old for romance.”

  Sarah looked at this younger version of Charles and realized she had come to love him already. She didn’t know if it was simply because he was Charles’ son or because he was such a delightful mixture of intelligence, humor, and sensitivity. But whatever it was, she had grown to both care for and respect this young ma
n.

  Chapter 32

  “Ihope you didn’t mind going to Barney’s without us. Charles really felt it would be better,” Sarah said as she was sitting down in the living room with John. He had just returned from a late evening having a drink at Barney’s Bar & Grill and keeping an eye on Rick, the bartender, who had promised a signal if either of Max’s married girlfriends came in.

  “The blond came in not long after I got there,” John explained, “and Rick nodded to me as he poured her drink.”

  “How did you manage to strike up a conversation with her?”

  “Easy. I just sauntered up to the bar …”

  “You sauntered?” Sarah repeated with raised eyebrows.

  “Well, maybe it didn’t look that much like a saunter, but that’s what I had in mind. Anyway, as I approached, Rick came over and said, ‘Pumpkin, this is my friend John. He wants to talk with you.’ ”

  “Her name is Pumpkin?” Sarah said, again with raised eyebrows.

  “No, that’s just what she likes to be called. Her name is Gladys. She told me that she hates her name. She said it doesn’t fit her personality, and I think she’s probably right.”

  “Pumpkin fits better?” Sarah asked with a half smile.

  “Absolutely! And whoever told you she’s ditzy was right on. She asked why I wanted to talk to her, and I was fairly honest. I told her I was a friend of Max, and I was trying to find out who killed him. After I bought her second drink, I told her I was pretty sure it was somebody’s husband since he ran around with married women. She said I was probably right and that he was ‘a real snake,’ to use her words.”

  “Were you able to get around to asking about her husband?”

  “Didn’t need to. She volunteered that her husband was in prison for exactly that! He caught her with a guy and shot him ‘dead on the spot,’ as she put it.”

  “Well, that eliminates her husband. Could Pumpkin think of anyone else?”

  “She was willing to speculate and seemed to enjoy thinking about who might have killed him. Pumpkin didn’t seem to know there had been an arrest, and I didn’t tell her. She talked about the redhead. Hates her, probably because she was Pumpkin’s competition—at least the one she knew about. Rick said Max had a whole slew of women, but he didn’t know any other names.”

  “Does she know how to reach the redhead?”

  “She knew her name; it’s Kimberly, but she didn’t know how to find her. She said Kimberly hadn’t been in since Max’s death, and she wondered about that. I confirmed it with Rick. He didn’t realize it had been that long, but he said that was probably right. He hadn’t seen her in a while.”

  “So neither Rick nor the pumpkin has any idea how to find this Kimberly woman?”

  “They didn’t know, but Rick pulled some guy over to talk with us. He dated Kimberly for a while back before she was seeing Max. The guy wrote her address down for me.”

  “And?”

  “Well, it was too late to go by tonight, but I’ll give it a try tomorrow. It’s Saturday, and maybe she’ll be home.”

  “You look tired,” Sarah said, noticing the bags under his eyes.

  “I am. I’m going to hit the sack after I call Donna. It’s still early out there.”

  “John, thank you for all your help.”

  “I love him, too, Sarah. I just hope he’ll come to believe that someday.”

  “He already does. He understands completely. I hope the two of you can talk about it someday.”

  Nodding his agreement, he said, “Good night,” and gently kissed her on the cheek.

  * * * * *

  Sarah taught a four-hour hand-piecing class the next morning. Now that Ruth had the extra space for classrooms, she and Sarah were able to teach at the same time, and Saturday seemed to be the preferred time for most of their customers.

  Sarah was reluctant to be teaching with Charles alone and miserable, but there wasn’t a thing she could be doing for him right then and teaching kept her mind occupied. Her five students were all experienced with the needle and quickly picked up the techniques she demonstrated. They cut out, marked, and stitched several Dresden Plate blocks that she told them they could use to make a pillow or a small wallhanging.

  As soon as the class ended, Sarah pulled out her cell phone and dialed Sophie. Higgy answered the phone and explained with little or no detail that Sophie was indisposed at the moment. She left a message with him and moments later the phone rang.

  “Sophie! How are you feeling?”

  “Never better,” was her immediately reply. “We played scrabble until 3:00 a.m. This guy knows lots of words!”

  Too bad he doesn’t use some of them to improve his verses. “But you’re feeling fine?” she said, keeping her thoughts to herself.

  “Yes. We’re way past the required forty-eight hours, but we’ve been having a nice time. I think he’s going to stay on for a while.”

  Sarah hesitated but decided not to express an opinion. “Okay. I was just checking on you. I’m at the shop and on my way home. Do you need anything from the store?”

  “No. We’re going out later.” Then, in little more than a whisper, she added, “Can I come over later and talk?”

  “You sure can! I’d love that. Pop on over whenever you can. I’m going to work on my Asian quilt this afternoon and will be leaving to see Charles around 6:00.”

  “I’ll see you later,” Sophie said and hung up.

  I wonder what that’s all about. She didn’t want to appear overprotective, but she found herself worrying about Sophie. Sarah knew she had more than seventy years of experience in the world but not that much with men. She hadn’t dated since her husband of many years died in the nursing home after his decline into Alzheimer’s. She wondered what Sophie knew about this Cornelius Higginbottom. I’ll ask her this afternoon, she decided, and just hope she doesn’t think I’m intruding too much.

  When she got home, John was just pulling up to the curb. “Bad news,” he called to her. “They flew the coop.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked once they were inside.

  “The house was totally empty. I knocked, and when there was no answer, I looked in the windows. Nothing. A neighbor came over and told me they moved out suddenly without a word to anyone.”

  “They just abandoned their house?” Sarah asked, frowning.

  “The neighbor told me it’s a rental. The owner was out last week getting it ready to rent again. He said there was no forwarding address. They just left.”

  “What do you think?” Sarah asked.

  “They could be perfectly innocent folks who decided to move to another house or even another state. On the other hand, the husband could have murdered Max and disappeared, taking his wife along.”

  “Do you think …?”

  “Sarah, that’s total speculation. It wouldn’t be my first choice. I’m waiting for a report from Jackson.”

  “Who’s Jackson?” Sarah asked, frowning in an attempt to remember the name.

  “He’s the FBI agent I told you about who’s working up in the state capital. He agreed to look into the Licensing and Inspection Department and their connection to B&H Construction. If I had to, I’d put my money on them.”

  “How would Max’s death fit in with that scenario?”

  “My guess is that the department, or maybe just Rawlins, is on the take, and Max got wind of what was going on. He might have tried to put the squeeze on them and get a cut. Maybe he was just talking too much. Even that’s just speculation, of course.”

  “There’s something else that bothers me, John. It’s that young man, Donald Wasserman. There was definitely something off when Sophie and I talked with him. He seemed full of anger. He said something strange when we told him we were trying to discover who had killed Max Coleman. With dark, cold eyes, he said something like, ‘Who cares?’ ”

  “Sounds like something a thoughtless kid might say,” John responded.

  “Yes, but that was a rather col
d remark, considering he knew at that point that my husband was sitting in jail for the murder. He just seemed cold and angry.”

  “Are you thinking he had something to do with it?”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. I just think we shouldn’t totally discount him. Have you or Graham talked to him?”

  “Graham did. He told Graham the same thing he told you—that it was probably the husband of one of his girlfriends.” John took on a more serious look as he thought about it. “Pretty pat answer, actually,” he added. “Could have been to throw us off the scent. Okay, I agree. Wasserman needs more attention.”

  They had a quick lunch, and John left to meet Graham and compare notes. Graham had told Sarah that the prosecution didn’t seem to be in any hurry to go to trial and that was fine with him. “It just gives us more time to find the killer,” he had said.

  Sarah went into her quilting room, pulled her fabric off the shelf, and turned on her machine. “The hum always relaxes me,” she told Barney, who was glad to be allowed in the room that had recently been converted into a guest room.

  Chapter 33

  “Sar-rah,” Sophie called as she let herself in. “Are you here?”

  “Back here,” Sarah responded as Barney jumped up and galloped toward the front door.

  Sophie walked down the hall and past the kitchen to join Sarah in the sewing room. “Have a seat on the futon, Sophie. I need to finish this one seam.”

  “What are you working on?” Sophie hadn’t seen the Asian fabrics. When she reached the end of the seam, Sarah spread her finished blocks out for Sophie to see.

  “I love the Japanese kimonos. Why do the women wear white makeup?” Sophie asked.

  “They are geisha,” Sarah responded.

  “Geisha?” Sophie responded, looking surprised.

  Sarah laughed, knowing just what she was thinking. “Yes, I was surprised too, but a woman in the shop told me about the tradition.” She proceeded to tell Sophie the story of how the young girls are trained as professional entertainers and are highly respected for their skills in time-honored Japanese arts.

  She went on to show Sophie a picture of the finished quilt and then pulled out the wallhanging she had made from the scraps. “This is for our bedroom in the new house,” she said, pointing out the kimono-clad women sitting under a lush cherry tree, the koi, the cranes, and the pagoda.