Running Stitches

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Running Stitches Page 4

by Carol Dean Jones


  “I just don’t know, Sophie. I’m worried. He doesn’t know we talked to Charles and have a plan to help him. He has gone off on his own to find Caitlyn, and there’s no way to guess where he is or what he’s doing. He might’ve contacted Buck, but we don’t know Buck’s last name or how to find him.”

  “Buck?”

  “Caitlyn’s stepfather,” Sarah responded. “The man Catherine married instead of Andy.”

  “Ah yes. Maybe Charles could find him?” Sophie suggested.

  “I don’t know. Charles made it pretty clear he didn’t want to have any part of this until Andy was back in prison. We have to respect that.”

  “You’re right. Maybe we should talk to Amanda. Do you think we could trust her to help us?” Sophie asked.

  “Hmm. I don’t know. But it’s a thought,” Sarah said pensively. “Maybe we should wait another week; if we don’t hear from Andy by then, let’s think about sitting down with Amanda and telling her what we know. I’m curious about that quilt, too, and I wonder if I should be reporting it as a break-in. For some reason, I just don’t think that’s what it was. Who would come in and take just that quilt and nothing else? And who would know where it was kept? And who would know where the door key was hidden?”

  “Andy!” Sophie announced abruptly, her eyes wide open, and her eyebrows raised high on her forehead. “Andy would know all those things!”

  “ANDY? No! That’s not possible!” Sarah said emphatically. The two women remained quiet for a few seconds. Sarah began to frown and added, “But why would he take it when all he had to do was ask for it? And, for that matter, when would he have taken it?” Sarah asked searching Sophie’s face for an answer.

  “Maybe after we talked to him by the river. Or, maybe before that,” Sophie suggested.

  “Before?” Sarah gasped. “You mean he may have been in my house before he contacted me?”

  “He may have been in your house before we even knew he was out of prison!”

  Sarah was stunned and clearly shaken by the idea. She suddenly felt very vulnerable. “Can we trust Andy?”

  Sophie grimaced as she shook her head and quietly said, “I just don’t know anymore.”

  “We don’t have any concrete reason to suspect Andy of breaking into my house, but we do know that he needs our help. And I think the best help we can offer is for us to take over the job of looking for Caitlyn and for us to convince him to turn himself in. But we can’t do any of these things until we find him. We need Amanda’s help.”

  As they were getting up from the table, Sarah said, “Okay. It’s decided. We will contact Amanda next week and see if she’ll help us find him.”

  Once outside, they decided to walk up the street to the craft shop. “I’ve been wanting to find a little gift for Ruth. She does so much for her students, and her father is ill. I think she needs a little something special.”

  As they approached the shop, Sophie asked, “Why do you suppose they named this shop ‘Persnickety Place?’”

  “I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged. “Let’s ask.” They entered the shop and walked past a line of wind chimes that responded with clinks and clatters as the breeze hit them. To the left, Sophie spotted a room spilling over with Christmas items.

  “Oh look! My favorites!” she called to Sarah.

  “You go on in the Christmas room.” Sarah said. “I’m going to look for a little something for Ruth.” Walking farther into the shop, Sarah was overwhelmed by all the wonderful items. She saw quilts, jewelry, handbags, scarves, and all sorts of small fun items. “I could spend all afternoon in here,” she muttered to herself.

  “Feel free to do just that,” a woman was saying as she entered the room. “And when you finish, meet me out front for ice cream!”

  “Are you the owner?” Sarah asked.

  “Yes, this is my shop. I’m Bea. And you are...?”

  “I’m Sarah. I’m taking a quilting class up the street and have wanted to stop in. It’s a fascinating building. Do you know its history?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do. It was built in 1835 and was originally just a two-room log cabin. The original owners were very poor but were able to save up and build on to it in 1850 and, by 1870, they were able to add the upstairs. It passed through several hands until it finally got to me about twelve years ago.” She smiled and looked around the room with pride. Sarah could see that Bea had a special love for the building and her shop.

  While Sophie entertained herself in the Christmas room, Sarah and Bea relaxed in rocking chairs and continued to talk. Sarah enjoyed getting to know Bea and appreciated that Bea took the time to sit and visit with her.

  Calling to Sophie, Bea said, “Let me know if I can help you.” Then she added, “By the way, everything in that room is 50% off!”

  “Oh, Wonderful,” the voice from the Christmas room cried out.

  Sarah returned to her shopping and ultimately settled on a small bag which Ruth could carry in her purse or use for her small sewing items. Sophie came toward the cash register with an arm load of furry snowmen, sleigh bells, and sparkling tree decorations.

  As they were leaving the shop, Sophie stopped abruptly and demanded, “What about the ice cream?”

  They turned back to the shop and Bea scooped extra-large, delicious cones which they enjoyed leisurely while sitting in the shop’s outdoor gazebo.

  “Let’s not wait,” Sophie said suddenly. “We need to talk to Amanda today. I have a bad feeling about Andy.”

  Using Sarah’s cell phone, they called Officer Holmes from the gazebo. Amanda told them she was on her way out but could meet them the next morning. Sarah, wanting to keep the meeting informal, asked her to meet them on the north end of the park. That was only a few minutes from their house and Sophie would be able to walk there.

  The two friends walked back to the quilt shop where Sarah’s car was parked, picked up Sarah’s quilt supplies, and headed home, both feeling hopeful and apprehensive at the same time.

  Chapter 8

  The next morning, Sarah and Sophie walked over to the park. They found a table and sat down. The sun was warm on their faces. Squirrels were scampering up and down the trees, perhaps searching for last year’s hidden stash of nuts. A few minutes later, Amanda pulled up in a squad car and joined them.

  “Thank you for seeing us, Officer Holmes.”

  “No problem. What’s up?” Amanda was a lovely young woman, about 32 years old with short brown hair and deep brown eyes. She had joined the police department the previous year and was assigned to Detective Gabriel. Amanda had worked closely with Sarah and Sophie during the investigation that ultimately led to Andy’s arrest the previous year. Amanda was a quilter and Sarah felt they were becoming friends. “And call me Amanda,” the officer added with a smile.

  “Okay, Amanda,” Sarah began. “We’re really going out on a limb here. We hope we can trust you with what we’re going to tell you.”

  “I’ll do the best I can. I know how you gals feel about Andy and, to tell the truth, I found him to be a very gentle and caring guy myself. I find it hard to understand some of the things he does. Do you know why he ran off this time?”

  This time? During the fight with his brother, George had fallen back against the fireplace and died. Instead of facing an investigation which would probably have cleared him of any wrongdoing, Andy ran off to Florida, letting all his friends think he was dead. And now, worried about his daughter, he ran off from the prison farm. Even his drinking was a way of running away from his problems. “…and now his daughter is running…” Sarah said aloud.

  “What?” Amanda asked, puzzled by the comment.

  “Sorry. I was just thinking.”

  “Well, stop thinking,” Sophie demanded, “and start talking. We have this young lady’s attention.”

  Sarah told Amanda everything that Andy had told them about Catherine, Caitlyn, Buck, and why he took off from the prison. Sophie interjected at every turn which seemed to confuse Amanda more
than help her to understand the story. “What hobo camp?” Amanda asked at one point.

  “That isn’t important to the story, Amanda.” Turning to Sophie, she added, “Please, Sophie, let’s just give her the facts so she can help us decide where to go from here.”

  “I was just trying to help,” Sophie snorted. “And what about the quilt?”

  “What quilt?” Amanda asked, again looking perplexed.

  “No. Again, that isn’t our main concern right now. What we want to do is find Andy, and tell him that we will look for Caitlyn if he’ll turn himself in. That will work in his favor, right?”

  “Yes. As I told you before, if he turns himself in, I’ll recommend to the district attorney that he be given leniency because of turning himself in and because of his daughter.”

  “And that will help him, right?”

  “I can’t guarantee it, but the prison staff will vouch for his good behavior, and you two can testify about the daughter. It will certainly help his case if he comes in voluntarily and not in cuffs.”

  “So,” Sarah began. “We want to find Andy and we want to find Caitlyn. Where do you think we should start?”

  “Well,” Amanda began. “You suspect the girl might be on the streets in Hamilton. Has she been reported missing?”

  “I have no idea, but I doubt it,” Sarah responded.

  “Well, that’s something I can do. I’ll check with Hamilton Missing Persons and see if they’re looking for her. What’s her name?”

  “I don’t know. Andy just called her Caitlyn.”

  “Okay. I’ll find out and let you know. I can’t get involved with searching for her—that’s out of my jurisdiction. Now, Sarah, you need to understand that the police are looking for Andy. If they pick him up, there’s nothing I can do to help him. The best case scenario for him will be if he turns himself in voluntarily. If he agrees to do that, call me and I’ll help him through the system.”

  “Thank you, Amanda. We appreciate your candor and your help. We’ll talk to Andy and see if he’s willing to turn himself in if we promise to search for Caitlyn.”

  “How do you propose to do that?” Amanda asked.

  “I honestly don’t know, but Charles has offered to help us once Andy is back in jail. He refuses to have anything to do with it until then.”

  “I understand. Okay, ladies. Good luck to you and I’ll let you know if the Hamilton police department is looking for the girl.” Amanda walked back to the squad car and turned to wave as she got in.

  “Nice girl,” Sophie said. “I like her.” Turning to Sarah and looking worried, she added, “What’ve we gotten ourselves into?”

  “It’s okay, Sophie. We just need to chip away at the problems. First of all, we need to know Caitlyn’s and Buck’s last name. Andy would know, but until we hear from him, that’s no help.”

  “I think we should go to Evanston prison farm and talk to carrot top,” Sophie suggested.

  “His name is Bryce, but that’s all we know about him,” Sarah responded.

  “Do you suppose they’ll let us see him if we don’t even know his full name?”

  “I’ll call Amanda and see if she can get his name for us. He should be able to tell us how to get in touch with this Buck fellow and he might have some ideas about where the girl has gone.”

  The two women remained sitting in the park. “This police work is exhausting,” Sophie announced. “I don’t think I can walk home from here. Do you think your cutie pie would pick us up?”

  “I’ll give him a call. I think we can tell him about talking to Amanda. That doesn’t involve him.”

  “Do you think he could pick us up at that little shop? I could use an ice cream cone,” Sophie said timidly.

  “Of course, he will! We’ll even buy one for him.” Although much too tired to walk home, Sophie enthusiastically led the way across the park and up the street to the ice cream shop.

  * * *

  By the time Charles dropped Sarah off at home, she was feeling emotionally exhausted. Charles had pointed out to the women that they shouldn’t lean on Amanda for too much help and inside information as it could jeopardize her position in the department. Sarah hadn’t thought of that and resolved to leave Amanda out of their planning.

  From the time she first met Amanda, she couldn’t help but compare her to her own daughter, Martha. Amanda was upbeat, enthusiastic about her job, and seemed to love life. Martha, on the other hand, wore despair on her face. She rarely smiled, had no close friends that Sarah knew of and spent all of her time in the laboratory. She was a scientist doing work which she refused to discuss with Sarah; perhaps it was classified, or perhaps she just didn’t want to share it with her mother. At any rate, Sarah took an immediate liking to Amanda and hoped their friendship could continue to grow once all these crimes were out of the way.

  Sarah checked the answering machine, poured herself a glass of tea, and decided to soak in a deep bubble bath.

  Barney pushed the bathroom door open with his nose and looked at Sarah whose head was protruding from a mass of bubbles. “Woof?” Barney said questioningly.

  “I know, dear dog,” she said with a chuckle. “Why would anyone submerge them self in a tub of water voluntarily?” Barney curled up against the tub protectively and rested his head on his paws.

  Chapter 9

  “This is our fourth class and you gals are doing a great job!” Ruth was placing all the finished blocks on the design wall. Ruth looked particularly relaxed. Sarah suspected that she may have decided what she would do about her family. She didn’t want to intrude on her privacy, but decided she would hang around after class and see if Ruth wanted to talk.

  “I have mine right here,” Dottie said proudly as she searched through her tote bag and finally located the rumpled block.

  Ruth smiled and responded, “Thank you, Dottie. You did a lovely job. I like the colors you’ve chosen. Having the bear claws in two shades of brown and the background a pale green, it’s as if the bear is walking across a meadow. Good choices!” Dottie beamed with pride.

  “Which block are we doing today?”

  “Let’s do something a little different this week. Let’s do the wagon wheel. It will involve using a template to cut the spoke, machine piecing, and then hand appliquéing.”

  “And the significance of this block?” Kimberly asked.

  “I’m not really sure,” Ruth responded. “I haven’t seen much written about this block but it was certainly common during that period. Maybe it refers to how they’ll travel. Some people built their wagons with false bottoms to hide runaways. Or maybe it just meant ‘follow the wagon trails,’” she added shrugging. “We’ll probably never know, but it’s fun to speculate.”

  Ruth passed out the template for the spokes and told the class to choose their fabrics and begin cutting. Over the next two hours, everyone had their spokes cut out and stitched together in a ring. Ruth then showed them how to hand appliqué the ring to the background and then a circle to the center. Delores, a seasoned quilter, was the only one to make any progress on the appliqué, and Ruth realized this was too much for one class. “Work on this one at home and if you have any trouble just stop by the shop, and Katie or I will help you.”

  After the class, Sarah pulled a book from the rack and thumbed through it. “Are you considering your next project?” Katie asked.

  “I’ve been thinking about a quilt for my bed. I love florals, but I’m not sure what pattern I will use. Ruth joined them and pulled another book from the rack and flipped through it to a scrap quilt she thought Sarah might like. “It’s beautiful,” Sarah exclaimed. “But I don’t have many scraps yet!”

  “You haven’t been to the Friday night quilt group at all this month, and we miss you. Why don’t you and Barney come this Friday and I’ll put the word out that you need scrapes. If there’s one thing quilters have lots of, it’s scraps!”

  “Good idea, Ruth! Thanks. I’ve missed the group too.” Over the past year, th
e group had grown to about fifteen. The previous year they used Ruth’s machines, but since the group had grown, they just brought handwork and their projects for show and tell, as quilters call it. It was clear that most people came for the socializing and the support of other quilters. “Is it really okay to ask for scraps?” Sarah asked timidly.

  “Absolutely! Quilters love to share and are very generous people.”

  “I’m glad you’re still here,” Ruth added, lowering her voice so Katie wouldn’t hear. “I’ve decided what to do about my family, and I wanted to tell you since you were so kind to listen to my sniveling last week.”

  “Nonsense! If we can’t snivel with our friends, where can we snivel?”

  “Well, it helped me. Just getting the words out helped me to see what I need to do. I’m going to drive up to Ohio and knock on the door. I don’t know if they’ll see me, but I have to try.”

  “I think that’s a good plan.”

  “If they’re willing to see me, I’ll bring Katie next time. I don’t have any idea if my father is home or in the hospital. I suspect, if he’s home, the family will turn me away, but I’m prepared for that. Shunning is the Amish way of dealing with its members who go against the faith. I’ve grown up with it, and I understand it. I miss my family, but I understand.”

  “You’re a strong, brave woman, Ruth. I so admire you.” Sarah pulled Ruth into a warm hug.

  “You are a strong woman yourself, Sarah,” Ruth said as she returned the hug.

  “What’s with this?” Katie teased, entering the room. “If you two are so strong, how about helping me pick up the bolts of fabric scattered all over the shop.”

  * * *

  Sarah stopped at the community center on her way home. “Hi, Marjory,” Sarah called as she walked into the resource room. The resource room was located on the second floor of the center. The center, itself, looked like an old warehouse from the outside, but it had been gutted and rebuilt as a community center just a few blocks from Sarah’s house. The lobby was two stories high and contained tropical plants that nearly reached the skylights.

 

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