Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) (19 page)

“What are you going to do when he comes home?”

“I’m living my life in the here and now, and if or when he comes home, we’ll see where we both are. Since his calls are few and far between, and the last few were reduced to talk about the weather, I’m not sure it’s going to be an issue.

“Anyway, it made me realize that, apart from his condition, Steve and I talked about everything. And after giving it a lot of thought, I think he was in such denial about his health that he didn’t think his not telling me was ever going to be a problem. I think he thought he was going to outlive his disease.”

The two women were silent until the horn sounded, letting everyone know it was time to return to their cars.

Night had fallen by the time Lauren turned onto Harriet’s hill.

“Did you see that?” She pointed out the windshield. “Blue flashing lights. Looks like they’re on your street.”

Harriet craned her neck to see up the hill from the side window, but they’d reached a section of the road that had mature trees and shrubs on both sides, obscuring the view.

“Something’s going on at your house,” Lauren said as she slowed to make the turn into the driveway.

She pointed, and Harriet could now clearly see two Foggy Point police cars parked behind a red fire truck. She threw her door open and jumped out before Lauren had fully stopped, causing her to slam on the brakes, and began running toward the house. She stopped when James grabbed her around the waist.

“Let me go,” she shouted.

“You can’t go up there right now. The fire is out, but they have to check before anyone is allowed back in.”

“Fire? My house was on fire?” She slumped, and he held her tighter, preventing her from falling to her knees.

“Fred is fine—he’s locked in my van. It’s okay,” he told her. “I got here just after the fire started, and I called nine-one-one and then got my car’s fire extinguisher out. I would have broken a window to get in, but the door was open. When I had the fire out, I looked for the dog, grabbed the cat and waited for the fire truck. Your dog is with you, right?”

Harriet took a deep breath.

“He’s with Mavis. What happened? Was it an electrical fire? Did I leave an iron on? I haven’t ironed anything today. Oh, no, Fred! Is he really okay?”

“Fred is fine. I’m no vet, but he was upstairs the whole time. I don’t think he even knows there was a fire.”

Tears streamed down her face.

“I want to see it.”

James handed her a kitchen towel, and she dabbed at her eyes.

“I don’t think they’re going to let you in yet. Let’s go sit in the van, and I’ll tell you what I know.” He led her to his catering vehicle and opened the side door. “Here, sit.”

He grabbed another towel and spread it out on the floor edge for her to sit on then dug around in a cooler behind her and came out with three chocolate brownies. Lauren joined them, and he scooted closer to Harriet to make a place for her to sit. When she was settled, he handed each of them a brownie before speaking.

“We’ll have to wait and see what the firemen say about what started the fire, but what I saw was a wastebasket sitting next to your big quilting machine with flames coming from it. I think there’s no doubt it was arson.” He looked down at his brownie.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Harriet asked. Fred came out from behind one of the big catering coolers that were permanent fixtures in the van; he head-butted her, and she set her brownie down and swept him into her arms, burying her face in his fur.

James hesitated before reaching behind her. He dug two bottles of water from a case and handed one to Lauren and another to Harriet before speaking.

“What aren’t you telling us,” she pressed.

“Someone did a number on your quilting machine. I don’t know how badly it’s hurt, but it looks like someone took a sledgehammer to it. The fire seemed like an afterthought, maybe an attempt to obscure evidence. The only thing the wastebasket was close to was the metal framework of your machine, and that was never going to catch on fire.”

She stood up, and he grabbed at her and she danced out of his reach.

“I have to go see how bad my machine is.”

Just then, Mavis drove up; Harriet waited as she got out and hurried over to them.

“Oh, honey, are you okay? Lauren called me, and I came as quickly as I could.” She pulled Harriet into a hug.

Lauren went over to the police car, chatted with the patrolman and came back.

“They called Darcy and the rest of her bunch to come process the scene.” Darcy Lewis was a quilter and sometime Loose Thread who worked for a tri-county criminalist team.

Mavis loosened her hug but kept an arm around Harriet. She looked at Lauren.

“So they’ve determined the fire was arson?”

James repeated what he’d seen.

“I asked the officer when you can get into your house,” Lauren continued, “and he said it wouldn’t be any time soon. He also said he could call you on your cell when they’re ready to talk to you.”

“In that case, I think we should go to Beth’s house and tell her what’s going on,” Mavis decided. “You know Jorge has a police scanner, and he’ll tell her, and she’ll be in a state until she sees for herself that you’re okay.”

Harriet turned to James.

“Can you come to my aunt’s? Fred’s not a great traveler, and I think he’ll do better if he can stay in the dark back of your van for the trip over there.”

“I’d be happy to be the kitty transport.”

Harriet gave him a weak smile and got into the passenger seat of the van while Lauren and Mavis returned to their own vehicles, and they all drove to Beth’s cottage.

The door to the cottage opened, and Jorge pulled Harriet inside.

“I thought I’d have to tie your aunt down to keep her from racing to your place the minute we heard on the scanner about the fire.”

“What happened?” Beth demanded when Harriet reached her recliner. “Is the house still standing? Are Fred and Scooter okay?” She started to get up, but Harriet kneeled beside the chair and took her hand.

“Scooter is at Mavis’s house, and Fred is outside in James’s van, and everyone is fine.” She turned her head to look for James, who was coming through the door behind Lauren. “James came by my house right after some-one set a wastebasket on fire. He had an extinguisher in his van and was able to put the fire out.”

“It was pure luck,” James added. “I went by Harriet’s to drop off another round of test truffles…” He trailed off.

“Sounds like it was a good thing you did,” Jorge said.

Mavis shrugged her coat off and dropped it on the back of the sofa.

“Shall I make tea?”

“I’ve got the kettle on already,” Jorge told her. “Here, sit down.”

He stood and pointed to the seat next to Beth he’d just vacated. Mavis smiled at him gratefully and sat down.

“Why would someone want to destroy Harriet’s quilting machine?” Lauren said thoughtfully as she joined Mavis.

“Do you really have to ask that question?” Jorge said from the kitchen.

“Wait a minute,” Beth said. “What happened to the quilt machine?”

“We’d already decided to stop investigating,” Harriet protested.

“What about the machine,” Beth demanded.

Harriet looked at her aunt.

“I haven’t seen it yet, but James has, and he said it’s destroyed.”

Lauren leaned back on the sofa.

“And yet there we were in Seattle,” Lauren continued the first discussion. “The casual observer would think we were still on the case.”

“So, somehow our seminary student was threatened by us going to Seattle and teleported from Spokane to burn my studio?” Harriet smirked. “I’d sooner believe a rival wanted to put me out of business.”

“Have you got a better explanation for someone breaking in and trying to destroy the place?”

“Blondie has a point,” Jorge said as he carried in a tray of teacups and set it on the coffee table. “No one knew you were bowing out of the mystery of Molly but yourselves.”

Aunt Beth smiled at him.

“He’s right. Our group hasn’t advertised the fact we were trying to help Molly, but we
have
been making inquiries. More important, Molly was so obsessed with her past she probably told anyone who would listen.”

James came to Harriet and took her free hand.

“Come, sit down.”

She got up, and he led her to the sofa then made her a cup of tea and handed it to her, wrapping his hands around hers briefly as he gave it to her. She took a sip, and he settled on the floor next to the her.

“Is there any possibility this isn’t related to Molly at all?” he asked. “I mean, the whole group has been looking into Molly’s past and now her murder, but only Beth and Harriet have been targeted. It doesn’t seem possible the two incidents aren’t related. Is it possible this is about something else and not about Molly at all?”

Harriet pressed her lips together, considering that thought. Beth started to speak then stopped and looked at her.

“I can’t imagine a reason anyone would have to target us,” she finally said. “I suppose it could have something to do with your parents given their stature as international scientists. It’s hard to believe bothering us would accomplish anything. They certainly wouldn’t come here to check on us if that’s what someone was hoping.”

That was an understatement, Harriet thought. If they hadn’t sent her to stay with Aunt Beth in between boarding schools when she was young, she’d have never known either one of them even knew Foggy Point existed. In fact, she wasn’t sure her father had ever been here. Her mother had left when she started college at the age of sixteen and had never looked back and never mentioned it.

“That would also mean there was a much larger conspiracy going on and I don’t believe that’s true. Unless something has changed, my parents aren’t involved in anything that would create that sort of enemies.”

Jorge set a steaming cup of tea on the table beside Beth’s chair.

“The boy has a point, though. It is odd that no one else has been harmed. Blondie has been with Harriet when she’s been talking to people, and she’s not been targeted.”

James turned to look up at Harriet.

“How rich are your parents?” Didn’t you say they’d invented something that had commercial value?” He continued. “Maybe there is a financial motive for someone to get at them through you two?”

Lauren smiled.

“Don’t you think they would kidnap them and hold them for ransom, if that were the case?”

“Maybe.” One corner of his mouth curled into a half-smile. “What if they don’t know how to find, or get in touch with the wealthy parents? When your mother didn’t come after Beth was injured, they upped the ante by trying to burn the house down.”

Harriet looked at her aunt and laughed. Beth tried to remain serious, but then she laughed, too.

“Anyone who knows anything about my sister and her husband would realize that nothing, and I mean nothing, would bring them back here.”

“They’d send their representative, a very scary woman who acts as secretary, travel agent and all-around girl Friday,” Harriet said, still chuckling.

Mavis cleared her throat.

“I don’t mean to take attention away from a serious situation, but it occurs to me we still have another quilt to finish before the benefit, and without your machine, we need to come up with a plan.”

Beth put her hand over her mouth.

“I didn’t even think of that.”

“Of course—you were worried about Harriet, but I’ve been thinking. It’s hard to stitch a quilt of that size on a home sewing machine, but the church has a quilting frame in their storage area. I know we only have a few days, but if everyone available could take shifts hand-quilting, I think we could get it done.”

“It could work,” Beth said. “I can help stitch. I’m sure we can figure out how to keep my foot up once I get there.”

“I’ll text the team,” Lauren told them and began tapping on her phone.

Once the rest of the Threads had been notified of the change in plan, Jorge got up to refill cups. Harriet leaned her head against the back of the sofa, lost in thought, while Lauren stared at her phone, willing the absentee Threads to reply to her texts. Beth and Mavis had each pulled hand-piecing projects from their ever-present canvas quilting bags and were stitching quietly.