Patchwork Connections

by Carol Dean Jones

  Sarah had made minestrone and served it with sour dough rolls and a side salad. Halfway through lunch, Charles stood and said, “I think we need to make our afternoon just a little more festive. Let’s open a bottle of wine.” He headed for the refrigerator and removed a bottle of zinfandel. Martha noticed how comfortable he seemed in Sarah’s kitchen and wondered how much time he spent there.

  After lunch, they moved into the living room and Charles put a disk in the player. Instead of dancing, however, he sat down and asked Martha to tap her finger to the beat. He skipped to another melody and repeated the exercise, helping Martha listen to the music in a slightly different way. “You need to get beyond the melody and the words and listen to the beat.” He then held out his hand and led her through a simple fox-trot as they repeated, “slow-slow-quick-quick, slow-slow-quick-quick.” Martha felt stiff and anxious at first, but as Charles demonstrated the steps and expertly led her across the floor, she began to relax. She could feel his hand firmly guiding her, and she realized she was dancing with someone who knew what he was doing. She wondered whether Tim would be as skilled at leading, obviously an important component in dancing.

  Once she was comfortable with the fox-trot, they spent some time on the waltz, and he even included a slow underarm turn. Martha was surprised at how she was able to flow with the music once she relaxed. “I like this!” she exclaimed after the initial awkward period. The hardest part for her was to allow Charles to lead. She was accustomed to being in charge, and once she learned the steps, she automatically moved into her take-charge mode.

  “Relax and just let me lead,” he repeated gently.

  Charles was a patient teacher. Sarah watched from the sideline, feeling love for both of them and enjoying their interactions. How could I have been reluctant to accept this man’s proposal, she wondered as she watched him guide her daughter around the makeshift dance floor.

  They took several breaks and once Martha seemed comfortable with the steps, he demonstrated the cha-cha with Sarah, but it clearly frightened Martha to think Tim might expect her to be that skilled. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” Charles assured her. “Tim doesn’t strike me as a cha-cha kind of guy.” They all laughed as they pictured this hefty, bearded man lumbering around the dance floor in cha-cha mode!

  On her way home, Martha turned the car radio on, something she rarely did. She dialed away from the all-talk news station, which was the only button she had set, and stopped on a soft music station. She found herself smiling as she thought about the afternoon. I’ve missed so much, she admitted to herself reluctantly.

  She boldly parked in front of her house giving no thought to the black car. She pulled her mail from the box and went into the house but was surprised to feel a cold draft. Walking through the house toward the kitchen, she realized the back door was standing open. “How could that be?” she asked aloud. She closed and locked the door and tried to remember when she might have left it ajar, thinking that perhaps the wind had blown it open. Still troubled by it, she hung up her coat and checked around the first floor. Nothing was out of place. She went upstairs and gasped. Her dresser drawers were standing open and their contents strewn about.

  She immediately called Officer Holmes but was told it was her day off. Two officers were sent to her house, but they found no evidence of a break-in. “The door was left open or opened with a key,” one of the officers announced authoritatively. She assured him the door was not left open, and no one, to her knowledge, had a key. They dusted for fingerprints, but none was found. Nothing appeared to be missing. They questioned her about who might have been in her house, but it felt more like an interrogation, and she ultimately referred them to Officer Holmes. They seemed a bit disgruntled when they left, and she had the feeling they were suspicious of her for some reason.

  Once alone, Martha sat down on her bed and looked at her intimate apparel scattered around the room. Had someone been looking for something? Or just trying to frighten me? She felt alone. She knew she needed to talk with someone about the break-in and about the black car. But who? She had thought about talking with Alan about it, but something held her back. Then she thought about Tim, but he was leaving soon.

  She wondered if Officer Holmes would be willing to sit down with her over coffee and talk about it, but she doubted that the young woman would have the time. She thought about Charles’ and realized he was the perfect person to talk to, but she had been trying to keep her mother out of it. But perhaps that isn’t necessary. She’s a strong woman. Maybe I don’t need to protect her.

  She thought again about the break-in and the black car. Were they related? She didn’t know, but she suspected they were. Who is doing this? She realized her hands were trembling.

  Without giving it any more thought, she picked up the phone and dialed her mother quickly before she could change her mind. “Is Charles still there?” she asked.

  “Yes, honey. He’s here. Did you want to speak with him?”

  “No. I was wondering if the two of you could come right over. I need you both.” Her voice cracked on the word need, and her mother spotted it immediately.

  “Are you okay?” her mother asked apprehensively.

  “No, Mama, I’m not okay. I need you and Charles. Please come.”

  “Of course, we’ll come! We’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 22

  “Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” Sarah asked, distressed that Martha had kept this to herself. The three sat in Martha’s living room while she told them about the black car and the police’s theory that she was being stalked. Sarah added, “You could have been in danger. …”

  “She called us now, Sarah. Let’s go over all the details, and we’ll figure out a way to put an end to this,” Charles said reassuringly. “Now start from the beginning.”

  “I’m not sure where it began. I’d been feeling like someone was watching me … you know, that feeling that makes you look around, but then no one is there?” They both nodded but were eager for more of the story.

  “The first time I noticed the black car,” Martha continued, “was the night of Sophie’s party.”

  “We picked you up that night. You didn’t say a word. …” Sarah began, but Charles gave her a look that clearly suggested she stop talking.

  “I know. I’m sorry, but I really didn’t suspect anything until the next week when Tim and I went out to dinner. A black car seemed to be following us when we left the restaurant.”

  “Tim saw it?” Charles asked.

  “He saw it first, but he dismissed it when it didn’t follow us once he turned off the main road. I was pretty sure it was the same car, but I didn’t say anything to Tim.”

  After a short pause, Martha continued. “Then, let me see …” Martha hesitated, trying to reconstruct the order. “Yes! It was the next week that I saw the car pull up and stop a few doors up. Someone got out and stood behind the trees directly across the street.”

  “And you report …”

  “Mom, I did! I called the police. They came out and looked around, but he was already gone.”

  “I know some of the older guys at the precinct. Do you remember who came out?” Charles asked.

  “Two officers. One was a young woman, Officer Holmes.”

  “Amanda Holmes?” Sarah asked with surprise. “Amanda?”

  “Yes! I thought I recognized her name. You know her, don’t you?” Martha said, becoming animated for the first time that evening.

  “We both know her,” Sarah responded looking at Charles then back at Martha. “She’s the one that helped us find Caitlyn last year. What did she say?” Sarah was clearly relieved now that she knew Amanda was involved.

  “Well, the gist of it all is simply that no crime has been committed.”

  “This person can terrify you …?” Sarah began.

  Charles spoke up. “The car is on a public street. The police didn’t see him lurking around the house. He hasn’t approached her. …�
�� Turning to Martha he added, “He hasn’t, has he?”

  “We don’t even know this is a he,” she responded, “but no, he hasn’t approached me.”

  “Okay, go on.”

  “Well, then the car followed me home from Stitches one day. …”

  “Wait! I saw that car! I called you and you said …”

  “Mother, I know what I said. I lied and I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready to talk about it. I still wasn’t sure whether I was imagining it, and I sure didn’t want to worry you. Besides, he didn’t follow me all the way home.”

  “But Wait!” Sarah said abruptly, looking excited. “I saw the license plate when he pulled up behind you!”

  Martha and Charles both turned to Sarah astounded. “You saw the license?” Sarah reached for her purse and searched around until she located a scrap of paper. “Here it is, E6. …”

  “Is that all you saw?”

  “Yes, but it’s a beginning, right?”

  Martha looked deflated as she sat back down. “I saw that much myself. I called Officer Holmes and told her, but it wasn’t enough to go on. She said she would check it out, but she wasn’t encouraging.”

  The three sat quietly for a few minutes.

  “Anything else?” Charles asked.

  “Yes. I haven’t told you the worst part yet.” Martha led her mother and Charles up the stairs to her bedroom and let them go in first. She saw her mother put her hand to her heart as she looked at the disheveled room.

  “Oooh,” Sarah muttered as tears sprung to her eyes. “I’m so sorry,” she said, pulling her daughter into her arms.

  “Okay. Now a crime has been committed!” Charles announced authoritatively. “We need to call the police. …”

  “I have. Amanda wasn’t there, but they sent out two other officers.” She handed their cards to Charles. “They weren’t helpful. In fact, I’m not sure they even believed me. They couldn’t find evidence of a break-in.”

  “I don’t know these guys, but I’ll check it out.” Charles had been retired for six or seven years but still had friends on the force. In fact, he occasionally did work for his old lieutenant, Matthew Stokely. “I’ll call Matt tomorrow and see what I can find out.”

  Sarah started to pick up some of Martha’s clothing from the floor, but looked inquiringly at Charles. “Is it okay to move these?”

  “Yes, the police have already investigated as much as they’re going to. Go ahead. She needs her room.” Together the three got things back in order, Martha and Sarah folding clothes and Charles putting the drawers back in the dresser. “Is anything missing?” he asked Martha.

  “Not that I know of,” she said distractedly. Her mind had returned to wondering who might be doing this.

  An hour later, the three moved downstairs to the kitchen. Martha brewed tea while Sarah removed a package of cookies from the cupboard.

  “Those might be stale,” Martha said offhandedly.

  “We’ll dunk them if we need to,” Sarah responded. Looking directly into her daughter’s eyes, she added reassuringly, “We’ll do whatever we need to do.” This time Martha initiated the hug knowing her mother was no longer talking about the cookies.

  “Thank you,” she said gently.

  The three sat for over an hour while Martha caught them up on her suspicions about Derek Kettler and possibly Greyson.

  “I can check out this Greyson character. I’ll call Probation and Parole in Montana and see what I can find out about this guy. What’s the rest of this Greyson guy’s name?” Martha again explained about his hippie mother and “Greyson” being his only name while Charles stared at her incredulously.

  “Amazing,” he responded, shaking his head. Getting back to the issue, he added, “Also I’ll see if this Derek Kettler has a record.”

  “And I can talk to Amanda,” Sarah interjected. “She comes to our Friday night quilt sessions occasionally, and we’ve become good friends. She’ll be a good person to have on our team,” Sarah added clearly getting excited about having another mystery to solve.

  “Slow down,” Charles said, looking at her with that look she so resented.

  “Charles …?” she said with her eyebrows drawn high on her forehead.

  “We’ll talk later,” he said somewhat dismissively. Sarah frowned. Martha hoped she wasn’t responsible for stirring up problems between these two. Charles was very protective of her mother and her mother was very independent and resented his interference. She had told Martha she often felt smothered by him. I hope I haven’t caused trouble.

  “So,” Charles said changing the subject and looking at Martha. “Did you see the car any other time?”

  “Hmm. Well, I can’t be sure, but I think it’s been in the parking lot at work. A couple of times when I was leaving late, I thought I saw it, but it immediately took off. I couldn’t really see the car all that well.”

  “Anything else?”

  Martha hesitated. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being watched, but I can’t swear to it. It’s probably my imagination. I’ve been really tense about this and stuff that’s going on at the office. …”

  “What stuff?” Sarah asked abruptly turning her attention to the conversation between Martha and Charles. “What stuff?” she repeated.

  Martha signed deeply. “Okay. I guess I can tell you.” She told them the situation with the missing report that turned up in her desk and about the investigation that was going on. “They seem to think I have something to do with it.”

  “Are you being set up?” Charles asked pointedly. Martha looked surprised and didn’t answer right away.

  “I don’t know,” she finally said tentatively. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 23

  “Good Morning, Sheila.” Martha was rarely late for work and felt compelled to offer an explanation to her administrative aide. “My car wouldn’t start in the cold; it’s probably the battery.” She handed Sheila the business card from her mechanic and asked that she arrange for them to meet her there at noon.

  “No problem. I’ll call right away. Will you need a ride? I’d be happy to take you.”

  “Thanks, Sheila, but I already spoke with Alan. We have some reports to go over, and we can do that on the way.” Martha went into her office and started to close the door but turned and asked Sheila if there had been any messages.

  “Yes. You had a call from an Officer Holmes. I put the number on your desk. Is everything all right?” Sheila looked intrigued and was clearly eager to hear why Martha was being called by a police officer.

  “Oh, that’s Amanda. She’s a friend.” Martha paused and then added, hoping to downplay the importance of the call, “If she calls again, tell her I’ll call her later.” She didn’t want to become any more of an item on the rumor mill than she already was. She knew people were talking about the number of times she’d been interrogated.

  Once she got settled in her office, Martha picked up the phone, but instead of calling Amanda right away, she dialed Sheila’s desk. “Sheila, would you get Rhonda Phillips for me.” Rhonda had been a good friend and a tremendous support to her during her years in the east coast office. But, with the exception of the time Rhonda called her about the message from the attorney in Montana, the two friends had been out of touch for the last few years. Martha wasn’t sure it was appropriate to call on her at this point, but she had to know what the scuttlebutt was back east.

  “Martha, hi! I’ve been meaning to call you. What’s going on out there anyway?”

  “What do you mean?” Martha asked, hoping Rhonda would fill her in without her having to ask.

  “All of us underlings out here can only speculate. No one’s telling us a thing. We only know that corporate has sent out several investigators and our legal staff is going crazy. It looks like they are sealing up all the holes.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, what I heard was that Cordidyne’s major competitor just leaked Middletown’s negative test results to the press.”

/>   “What results? We’re still in the preliminary phase. We don’t have final results.”

  “Well, they made it sound final. They listed all the dangerous side effects. No one is ever going to buy this product if it even gets to the marketplace.”

  “Do they say where they are getting their information?”

  “They’re quoting your research word for word. I compared it with your last internal report. You have someone out there you can’t trust.”

  Martha sat back in her chair and pushed her hair out of her eyes. She was baffled by what Rhonda was saying. Who released this information?

  “What I heard,” Rhonda continued, “is that they’re tightening up security out there and continuing to investigate. They’re determined to find the leak. Is that your unit, Martha? Your name keeps coming up. I’ve been worried. …” she added as her voice trailed off.

  “I have final sign-off on it, but the work is being done in Davis’ lab. I’m following it, of course.” Alan and I are following it, she thought but didn’t say.

  After she hung up, she realized the back of her blouse was damp from a nervous sweat that had washed over her during the call. Alan? Alan was new to the corporation and where had he come from? He’d been hired by corporate, so she didn’t have his original paperwork. But, they are looking at me, not Alan.

  The trip back to her house at noon was tense and awkward. “Are you okay?” Alan asked.

  “I’m just worried about the car,” she responded. She had planned to tell Alan about the stalker and ask if he thought it could be related to the work they were doing, but now? Could she trust him? She had no idea. Did he know about the news release? Should she ask him? Her thoughts were muddled and confused. She remained quiet.

  Alan looked at her with what appeared to be honest concern. “Martha, relax. It’s probably just your battery. It’s been really cold and your car sits out.”

  How does he know my car sits out? When has he ever … but then she realized this isn’t the first time he has driven her home. During the first weeks he was with the company, he had offered to help on several occasions during the period she was trading in her old Chevy. “You’re probably right. It’s probably the battery. I should stop buying used cars.”