A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) (6 page)

“Hit pause,” Harriet told Lauren an hour-and-a-half later when her phone rang. “Hello? Connie, is that you? I can’t hear you very well…Yes, Aunt Beth is here with me. Lauren, too.” She listened a few moments before assuring Connie they would be right there.

“Where are we going?” Lauren asked.

“To the hospital,” Harriet said as she turned off the television and gathered the empty tea mugs. “Plan B just presented itself. Connie went to drop off a hot dinner for her daughter-in-law, who is working night shift in the ER, and guess who she ran into in the triage area?”

She led the way downstairs and grabbed her purse and coat.

“Let me guess,” Lauren said as she put on her own coat and slung her messenger bag over her head and settled it onto her shoulder.

“Sarah,” Aunt Beth said and followed them to the garage. “How bad is it?”

“She was sitting in the triage area as opposed to coming in on a stretcher, so it didn’t sound life-threatening. Connie said there were a few other people there, but said we should hurry anyway.”

“Have you ever gone to the emergency room and gotten out in less that four hours?” Lauren asked.

“No, but there’s a first time for everything, and it will take us a good thirty minutes to get there,” Harriet said as she turned on the ignition.

“Stop talking and get driving, then.”

“Mavis and I just saw her…” Aunt Beth glanced at her watch. “…not four hours ago.”

“It probably doesn’t take much time for someone to fly into a rage and inflict a lot of damage,” Harriet suggested, turning onto the street.

“I think this is a case of ‘be careful what you wish for,’” Lauren said.

Harriet turned to stare at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Eyes on the road, missy,” Lauren shot back. “What I mean is, we couldn’t think of a plan B; now we don’t need to. If this doesn’t convince Sarah to make a change, nothing will.”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t her first trip to the ER,” Aunt Beth said. “If it didn’t convince her the first time she went, she may not be willing to listen to us now.”

“That will depend on how badly she’s hurt,” Harriet said.

“We aren’t going to know that till we get there,” Aunt Beth said and stared into the dark outside the car window.

They were silent until Harriet guided her car into the hospital parking lot.

“Let’s go find out what’s going on,” she said.

Aunt Beth pointed to a car two rows over.

“Isn’t that Connie’s car?”

“Looks like,” Lauren said. “If she’s still here, Sarah must be, too.”

“We’re here to see Sarah Ness,” Harriet told the woman at the reception counter.

“We’re out in the waiting area,” Lauren said into her cell phone at the same time. She touched the face of her phone, ending the call, and turned to Harriet and Aunt Beth. “Connie will be out to get us in a minute.”

Harriet mouthed a thank-you to the receptionist, who was fielding another call, then followed Lauren to a row of plastic chairs in the middle of the room.

“Over here,” Connie called to them from one of the two doors that led to the interior of the hospital. She held it open as they filed into the hall beyond.

“She’s having another x-ray, but we can wait in her cubicle.”

“How bad is it?” Harriet asked once they were all crowded into Sarah’s space.

“Her eye socket may be cracked or broken, and her right arm has a bad enough break that she’s going to need surgery. If nothing’s broken on her face, her eye will certainly have to be stitched up. They’re trying to get a plastic surgeon here tonight to look at it.”

“That sounds awful,” Beth said, her face pale.

“I don’t suppose we can just kidnap her,” Lauren suggested.

“That would make us like her abuser,” Harriet said. “Sure, we’d be kinder and gentler, but we’d be making decisions for her she should be making herself.”

Lauren stood up and rocked from her toes to heels and back again.

“But she’s not taking care of her own safety,” she argued.

“We might need Robin,” Harriet said and pulled her cell phone from her purse. “I think I’ll give her a heads-up, and she can decide if she needs to join this little party. I’m going to step outside to make the call.”

She returned a few minutes later. Sarah wasn’t back yet.

“Robin says to let her know what Sarah says. The only way anyone can intervene is if Sarah’s declared incompetent, which is a long court process, or if we observe her in imminent danger, in which case we can call nine-one-one.”

“That’s not very helpful,” Lauren said.

“Unfortunately, it’s the law,” Harriet told her.

The curtain at the end of the cubicle was swept aside, and Sarah entered, riding in a wheelchair pushed by a young woman dressed in pink scrubs. A clip-on badge said the woman’s name was “Taylor Morgan, RN.”

“You all can’t be in here,” she said. “Two of you can stay, if Ms. Ness wants you to.”

Connie took Lauren by the arm.

“Come on, let’s go find some coffee.”

“If you go back to the reception desk and take the left-hand door, you’ll be in a hallway that leads to a family waiting room. There are vending machines, and the coffee one isn’t half bad,” Taylor told them with a practiced smile. She ducked out of the room, returning a moment later with a second wheeled stool, which she slid to Harriet. “I’ll let you three talk while I go check with the doctor.”

She gave Harriet a silent but telling look before turning and leaving them alone.

“Can you tell us what happened to you?” Aunt Beth asked.

“I told that nurse. I was out on the porch at the cabin. It was raining, and I slipped and fell down the steps.” A tear slid from Sarah’s swollen eye.

“Sarah,” Harriet said in a soft voice, “things won’t get better if you just ignore them. And next time you might not be as lucky as you were today. You’re hurt, but you’re still alive. I’m afraid for you.”

“You don’t care. None of you do. My family’s mad at me. He’s all I have.” Tears were now flowing freely.

“Honey,” Aunt Beth said and got up, crossing the small space and crouching in front of Sarah’s chair. She took Sarah’s good hand in hers. “We
all
care about you. That’s why everyone has tried to get you to come to quilting, or come to coffee with us. That’s why we’re here. We want to help you. You need to let us in.”

“We’re going to be married,” Sarah said with a sob. She took her hand from Aunt Beth’s and raised her ring finger, displaying a small solitaire diamond.

“You can’t be serious,” Harriet said before she could stop herself.

“See, you don’t understand.” She let her hand drop to her lap.

Harriet wheeled her stool next to her aunt. Beth slid onto it, smiling at her niece as she did. Harriet crouched down in her aunt’s place.

“I’m not judging you,” she said. “I just hate seeing you like this. You have to be in tremendous pain.”

Sarah looked down at her hands.

“Aiden is working on a project at the women’s shelter—making a pet enclosure so people can bring their animals with them. He asked the Threads to make quilts for the pets,” Harriet continued. “Robin and Lauren and I went to tour the shelter. We decided to make quilts for the women, too. It’s a safe place you could go. I know they have room.” She hoped she was telling the truth. “You could take Rachel with you when Aiden’s building is finished.”

“The location is kept secret from the outside world.” Aunt Beth took up the story. “No one could come there unless they’d been cleared, and no one who’s related to the residents is allowed in except for their minor children.”

“But we’re engaged,” Sarah blubbered.

“Honey, if he loved you, he wouldn’t do this to you.” Aunt Beth reached out and retook Sarah’s uninjured hand in both of hers. “Can you at least think about it? Maybe talk to the women who run the place?”

“Where are you going to go when you’re released from here?” Harriet asked.

“Home.” Sarah sniffed. “To the cabin.”

“With your fiancé?” Aunt Beth asked.

“He stays in an apartment at the senior center during the week. He gets paid extra to sleep there and take care of any problems that the night staff can’t handle.”

“So, he won’t be back until Saturday?” Harriet asked.

Sarah nodded, her black hair falling into her face.

“Connie mentioned you’d be having surgery. I assume that will be tonight or tomorrow,” Harriet continued. “That means you wouldn’t be released until at least tomorrow night or even the day after. I can bring you an application for the shelter before you leave here. Then, if everything goes well, you could move there before the weekend.”

Sarah sighed. “How can I leave him?” she moaned. “Who will do his laundry? He’s helpless when it comes to taking care of himself.”

“He’s a big boy,” Aunt Beth said. “And he can’t go on hurting you like this.”

“He doesn’t mean to hurt me,” Sarah whined. “It’s my fault. I knew he didn’t like spaghetti. I didn’t know he was coming for dinner, but I should have known he might. Some nights he does come home, and I know he hates spaghetti.”

“Sarah,” Harriet said as gently as she could, “this isn’t about spaghetti. You don’t break someone’s arm because they made spaghetti for dinner.”

“But I should have known,” she protested.

“Honey,” Beth shook her hand gently to get her attention. “Look at me. This is not about what you did or didn’t cook for dinner. It’s about power. Right now, he has all the power. It’s time for you to take some back.

“A man who loves a woman would never break her arm—not for any reason. I know this is hard, but there are plenty of nice men out there, men who will love you just like you are. You don’t need to settle for this guy.”

Sarah sighed, and it sounded to Harriet like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders.

“It’s so much more complicated than that,” she said finally.

“Will you at least consider what we’ve said?” Harriet asked.

Sarah was quiet for so long, she was afraid she wasn’t going to answer.

“Okay,” she finally said.

“Can we bring you anything?” Aunt Beth asked. “Pajamas or toiletries?”