A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery)

by Arlene Sachitano

  “Hannah? What are you doing?”

  “I’m putting an end to a nuisance. Two nuisances, really.”

  Joshua leaned into Harriet. His face was gray.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered without looking at her. His eyes were fixed on the gun in Hannah’s hand.

  Harriet looked at the shiny revolver and then at Joshua. The appliqué quilt she had seen at Sarah’s cabin was now draped across his lap. An irregular red stain blossomed in the white area between two blocks where it lay on his leg. Her eyes grew wide as she realized the stain was growing.

  Hannah waved the gun back and forth between Harriet and Joshua.

  “It’s just a flesh wound,” she said. “He wasn’t going to call you, so I had to give him some incentive. Besides, it’s nothing compared to what you’re going to do to him.”

  Harriet stared at her.

  “That’s right,” Hannah continued. “You and Joshua are going to have a shootout. He’s going to go nuts on you, and you’re going to shoot him.”

  “I don’t have a gun,” Harriet told her.

  “Of course you don’t. You’re too nice to carry a gun. I have one for you. You found it lying on the table here.” She bent and pulled a second gun from a backpack on the floor, keeping her weapon trained on Harriet the whole time. She backed up and set the second gun on the table.

  Harriet glanced at Joshua. His breathing was uneven. She turned back to Hannah.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “There you go with the questions. That’s exactly why I’m doing this. You are too nosy for your own good. Seth wasn’t your brother. How and why he was killed is none of your business. But you couldn’t leave it alone. You wouldn’t leave Sarah alone when she was at the senior center, and then you hid her. And my dad said you’ve been trying to damage his reputation, too. Now you have the residents of the senior center all riled up.”

  “You’re not making any sense. I didn’t hide Sarah, and the people at the senior center don’t need my help.”

  “I heard them call you today at the clinic. You were going there tonight to hear what they think they know about my dad.”

  “Hannah, listen to you. If your dad killed your mother, don’t you want to know that?”

  “My dad didn’t kill my mom. She killed herself and dragging it all up again isn’t going to change that. All those old people can do is hurt my dad’s reputation and cause people to not want to come to the senior center.”

  “Is that all that matters to you? How the business does? Don’t you even care about your own mother?”

  Hannah cocked the revolver she was holding.

  “Don’t you presume to tell me how to feel about my mother. You don’t know anything about it.”

  Harriet felt Joshua stiffen where his good leg was touching her.

  “How can you keep defending that monster?” he rasped at Hannah. “He beat our mother, he beat Sarah, and you know what he did to you. Even if our mother did kill herself, it was because of him. Her life was so miserable. Are you hearing me?”

  Hannah sighed. “I’m way beyond caring about anyone but me. Everyone in this family is screwed up. I’m a survivor. You never learned that lesson, big brother—or I should say big half-brother.

  “If Howard had been your real dad, you’d understand. We Pratts are practical. You do what you need to do to stay on top. Right now, what I need to do is clean up my mess. Dad said if I clean up my mess, I can go to veterinary school, and he’ll hire a pharmacist.

  “Don’t you see, Josh? If you had been a little more respectful, he probably would have let you be his drug guy.”

  Harriet looked at Joshua.

  “What’s she talking about? What mess is she cleaning up?”

  He shuddered.

  “Haven’t you figured it out? It took me a while, but I finally got there.” He took a deep breath. “I couldn’t understand why anyone would kill Seth. Howard needed him to keep his drug-cutting scam going, and he needed Seth to date Sarah to keep her in line until he could make his move to take the center from her, though I admit I didn’t realize the lengths to which he would go.

  “When Hannah told me Howard was making her go to pharmacy school, it became clear. He didn’t kill Seth or have anyone else do it. Why would he? So, who would kill Seth? Sarah had motive, but she was too in love with him so, no one.” He stopped talking and took a series of shallow breaths.

  “We’ve all been looking at the wrong victim,” Harriet said. “Seth wasn’t the intended victim. It was Sarah. With Sarah gone, her mom would inherit the senior center, and we all know what happens to Howard’s wives. It all makes sense.

  “Howard wanted Sarah dead, and whoever was trying to kill her hit Seth instead. Maybe the bullet deflected when it went through the window, or maybe Seth moved into the way at the last second. In any case, he took the bullet intended for Sarah.

  “I’m still confused, though,” she said and looked back to Hannah and the gun. All of a sudden it became clear. “You’re the shooter? Why?”

  “It took you long enough. Howard doesn’t like to involve outsiders in family business. I’ve been training with a rifle since I was twelve. I’m a medalist at that distance. I could have done it in my sleep.”

  She shook her head. “I’m still not sure exactly what went wrong.” She held the revolver up and sighted down its short barrel, reenacting her shot. “I had it all lined up, and then, just as I squeezed the trigger, Seth hit her with a roundhouse right and put himself right into the path of my bullet.” She sighed. “I’ll admit, I didn’t see that one coming.

  “I must have practiced that shot a hundred times. I’ve even practiced shooting in the dark.” She shook her head. “It should have been easy.”

  “You can’t possibly think you’re going to get away with this,” Harriet said.

  “You know, if you and your busybody friends had left Sarah alone, this would not be happening. Sarah’s pain pills were laced with poison while she was in the senior center after she broke her arm. If she’d cracked and taken even one, we wouldn’t be here.

  “We could have administered the poison another way, but you people were always there, bringing her food from the outside, taking bites from her tray and asking questions about everything that was happening in her room. Dad couldn’t risk having one of you die at the center along with her.”

  Harriet looked around the room to see what possibilities it held. Before she could formulate a plan, someone knocked on the door.

  “Hello?” Lauren called. “I know you’re in there. I can see your car, Harriet.”

  Hannah started for the door, but Lauren opened it and came in.

  “Well, well, well, what have we here?” she said as she sized up the situation.

  “What we have is a complication,” Hannah said, pointing the gun at her and motioning her to the couch with it. Lauren sat down on the near end of the couch, with Joshua between her and Harriet. She picked up the edge of the bloodstained quilt.

  “Isn’t this the quilt from Sarah’s cabin?”

  “Sarah made it for me,” Joshua said with a small gasp.

  Lauren turned to look at him, taking the opportunity to assess his condition.

  “Wait a minute, here. We’ve all seen Sarah’s handiwork, and it doesn’t look this good.”

  Joshua took a shallow wheezing breath.

  “No one is allowed to be better than Howard’s blood children. Hannah doesn’t even care about quilting, but when Sarah made me this quilt, Howard made her pay, and then he threw it in the garbage. I fished it out and took it up to the cabin. Seth didn’t say anything, because he had his own battles to fight.” Joshua sank back into the cushions on the couch. “It’s all so sick.”

  “Sarah didn’t really make it,” Hannah said. “He just wanted her to have made it for him. She bought it at a quilt show.”

  Joshua looked like he was going to argue, but he didn’t have the energy. Harriet looked at the bloodstain on the quil
t. It was growing at an alarming rate. If something didn’t happen, and soon, he was going to bleed to death.

  “Hannah,” she said, “give it up. Your plan isn’t going to work now that Lauren is here.”

  “I’d like to hear the plan,” Lauren said and looked at her.

  Harriet lifted the edge of the quilt and looked at Joshua’s leg.

  “If you want to have any hope of staging this as a shootout, we need to put a pressure bandage on his leg. Otherwise, he’s going to be dead before you even get started.”

  Lauren scooted a little closer to Joshua and took a look.

  “You should look at this,” she told Hannah. “It’s a mess. You’re going to have to clean up some of this blood on the sofa and floor, or it’s going to be very obvious what really happened here.”

  Hannah paced across the room to the kitchen. Harriet looked at Lauren and held the edge of the quilt up, raising her eyebrow as she did. Lauren gave her a nearly imperceptible nod.

  Hannah whirled and came back to the sofa.

  “Why did you have to come here, anyway?”

  Lauren smiled and shrugged.

  “Just curious, I guess.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess you know what curiosity did for the cat.” Hannah smirked. “Now, what am I going to do with you three?”

  She paced to the kitchen and back again, passing the revolver from one hand to the other and back again. Her face became redder as she paced.

  “If you let us get help for Joshua, we won’t call the police until we have him at the hospital. You can head for Canada and disappear,” Harriet suggested.

  Hannah bent to stare at her.

  “What kind of idiot do you think I am?” she screamed, drops of spit spraying Harriet’s face.

  Harriet and Lauren sprang up, each holding an edge of the quilt. They threw it over her head and torso and pulled it toward them, pulling her off her feet. Both brought their weight to bear against the thrashing woman.

  While they struggled to subdue Hannah, Joshua lurched to his feet and staggered to the kitchen table, picking up the second revolver as he slumped into a chair. He quickly popped the cylinder to the side, confirmed it was loaded and snapped it back into place.

  “Hannah, I’m holding a gun pointed at you,” he said. “Slide your gun out from under the quilt, or I swear I’ll shoot you.”

  The quilt-wrapped bundle struggled more at his words. Lauren balled her right fist and slugged the quilt.

  “Ouch, stop that,” said Hannah’s muffled voice.

  Lauren hit her again, hard. They heard a grunt.

  “You want more?”

  “Okay, okay, stop. And get off me, I can’t breathe.” The gun appeared from under the bundle. Harriet kicked it away.

  Harriet dialed 911 while Lauren picked up Hannah’s gun. Harriet looked at Joshua; his head was down on his arms.

  “Do you have something we can tie her up with?”

  He pointed to a drawer next to the small kitchen sink.

  “Duct tape,” he wheezed.

  Harriet noticed a second wound near his armpit. It didn’t appear to be bleeding as profusely as his leg, but it couldn’t have felt good.

  “Give me your hands,” she commanded Hannah when she’d pulled a strip of tape free from the roll. When the hands appeared, she made quick work of pulling them behind the girl and taping them together. She moved to Hannah’s feet and bound them tightly, too.

  “Give me your belt,” she told Lauren and, for once, her friend complied without argument.

  Joshua groaned when Harriet lifted his leg so she could slip the belt around his thigh.

  Lauren fished around in the kitchen and came up with a clean looking dish towel and a tray of ice. She handed Harriet the towel and found a baggie for the ice and then handed that to her friend, too.

  “I’m afraid that’s as good as we can do for now,” Harriet told Joshua when she had a tourniquet on his elevated leg and the towel and ice covering the second wound. She patted him on the shoulder. They all heard the sound of sirens in the distance.

  Lauren walked over to where Hannah lay on the floor. She poked the woman with her foot. “I take it we found our murderer?”

  “Ow,” Hannah complained.

  Harriet pressed her lips together and tried to smile.

  “We have, indeed.”

  “On the up side, I think Sarah’s better off without Seth, and she’s definitely not going to miss this viper,” Lauren said.

  Harriet did laugh at that.

  “Let’s not share that thought with anyone else, okay? Besides, Sarah’s still got to deal with Howard.”

  Lauren came to look at Joshua. She held his wrist and felt for his pulse.

  “Your pulse feels strong enough,” she told him. “Too bad we couldn’t have gotten something on Howard. Then Joshua and Sarah could truly be free.”

  Harriet was quiet. Lauren looked at her.

  “I know that look. You have an idea, don’t you?”

  “According to Jo, Janice has had some sort of memory breakthrough. She remembers what she had learned about Howard. Maybe about the accident, too.”

  “And?” Lauren prompted.

  “If Detective Morse is willing to go along with this, we could make sure Howard doesn’t find out about Hannah immediately, and that he does find out about the sudden retrieval of Janice’s lost memories. Maybe he’ll incriminate himself.”

  “That’ll never happen,” Lauren said. “Not the Howard part. Morse will never agree to it.”

  “Agree to what?” Morse asked as she came through the shed door just ahead of the paramedics. She stepped aside so they could pass. “What’s going on here?”

  Harriet went back to the couch and sat with a sigh. Lauren plopped down beside her. The adrenaline rush from subduing Hannah was beginning to catch up with Harriet, and she assumed the same thing was happening to Lauren.

  She took a slow deep breath.

  “Hannah is the one who killed Seth. She was actually trying to shoot Sarah. She says her father put her up to it.”

  Detective Morse started to speak, but Harriet held her hand up. She could see a uniformed officer getting Hannah to her feet and removing the duct tape, replacing it with metal handcuffs.

  “I got a call this afternoon from the senior center. Janice, the woman who was in the car accident with Howard years ago, was investigating him at the time. She’s just recovered her memories, and they want me to meet them at the senior center to hear what they have to say. You might be able to catch Howard in the act of trying to shut her up if he doesn’t know about Hannah by then.”

  “That’s assuming Howard did something wrong in the first place and also that he’ll come after the woman,” Morse said, but it was her turn to hold her hand up. She signaled the patrol officer to stop. He was moving Hannah toward the door but paused. “I need to think about this, but for the time being, let’s put the prisoner in an isolation cell as a Jane Doe. Call her a material witness and keep it off the radio. Don’t take the cuffs off, but put them in front and cover them with a coat.

  “Don’t turn your back on her. She’s to be considered extremely dangerous.” She made eye contact with Hannah. “Make no mistake, these officers have my permission to taze you, shoot you or whatever else they feel is necessary to keep you in custody.”

  “I want my attorney,” Hannah spat.

  “Until further notice, I’m going to assume you were the one who planted bombs on US soil. I’m going to consider that to be the act of a domestic terrorist until I have evidence to the contrary. That being the case, you have no rights. You can consider yourself lucky I’m not turning you over to the Feds until we sort this out.” She turned back to Joshua, who was now on a gurney, being attended to by three jumpsuited paramedics. “That silence order applies to you folks, too, patient included.”

  Joshua managed a weak smile as he was wheeled out.

  Morse punched numbers into her phone then spoke to someone in hushe
d tones before turning back to Harriet and Lauren.

  “He’ll have a police guard at the hospital, and the staff will keep his name off the records for now. Now, tell me everything you know about this woman and her memories.”

  Harriet filled Morse in on what Jo and Violet had told them as well as what Aunt Beth had dug up at the library. She ended by relating the memories her aunt, Mavis and Connie had from when the accident had happened.

  “We don’t have any evidence whether Howard killed any of his wives. By the way, there’s one more than we knew about, according to Hannah. It’s suspicious that at least two of them have died,” Harriet told her.

  “And we saw evidence in Howard’s office to back up the talk about him running some sort of drug-cutting scam,” Lauren added.

  Harriet stood up, wobbled a bit, steadied herself and went to the kitchen cabinet. She found glasses and filled them with water from the tap, giving one to Lauren then offering another to Morse before sitting and taking a long drink of her own.

  “I don’t know if you can believe anything Hannah says, but apparently, Howard or Elaine tried to poison Sarah while she was in the nursing wing of the senior center, before the shooting. They tampered with her medication.”

  “That makes more sense, actually,” Morse said. “I mean, shooting someone is messy. Poisoning someone who is already sick or injured gives you a lot better chance of getting away with it.”

  Harriet set her glass down on the end table.

  “I guess it’s a good thing Sarah’s paranoid. For once, it paid off.”

  “Okay, let’s go to the station and let me talk to my boss. If he’s good with it, we’ll set it up.”

  “I’m going to have to tell my aunt and Mavis something. I’m surprised they haven’t come here. I left Aunt Beth a message telling her I was meeting with Joshua.”

  “Call her and let her know you’re helping me with some research and that everything’s okay.” Morse looked at Lauren. “Do you have anyone who’s likely to pop out of the woodwork at an inopportune moment?”

  Lauren shook her head.

  “I’m good.”