Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) (20 page)

James smiled at Harriet.

A loud knock on the front door startled them and set Beth’s dog to barking.

“Everyone, stay where you are,” Jorge boomed from the kitchen. “I’ll get it.”

He wiped his hands on the dish towel he was carrying and took a moment to look through the peephole before opening the door.

“Detective Morse, come in,” he said and held the door open. He continued holding it open, blocking Brownie with his foot. “Connie is coming,” he explained.

“This isn’t a good time to talk about Amber’s disappearance,” Beth said to Morse.

“I’m not here about that. There was some sort of gang shooting down at the docks tonight, so the on-call detectives are all down there. I was called in to come interview you-all about the break-in and fire at Harriet’s.”

Harriet looked at her hopefully.

“Have you been to my house?”

“I did swing by and take a look.”

Connie came in, dropped her purse and jacket and crossed the room to pull Harriet into an awkward hug.

“
Diós mio!
Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Harriet said in a voice muffled by the fact her face was buried in Connie’s shoulder.

Connie released her grip and studied her closely.

“You weren’t hurt by the fire?”

“It was just a wastebasket,” Morse answered for her. “Harriet wasn’t home, and her friend James seems to have arrived right after it was set.” Morse looked at James, with one eyebrow raised in a questioning arch.

“I was bringing truffles,” he stammered. “And the door was open.” His face turned red.

“Lauren and I were just getting home from Seattle…” Harriet volunteered then paused. “Wait a minute.” She looked at James. “You said my door was open? How did someone get past my burglar alarm?”

He shrugged. “It was open, and the alarm wasn’t going off when I got there.”

Jorge brought in a cup of tea for Morse. He took her jacket and hung it on the coat closet doorknob and handed her a napkin. He carefully set it on the coffee table then went to the dining area and brought chairs for Morse and Connie; everyone sat down.

Morse sipped her tea.

“This is wonderful,” she told Jorge then returned her attention to Harriet. “I haven’t talked to Darcy and her crew yet, but I noticed one of them was taking pictures of your security system keypad. Some of the keys had black powder on them. This is just a guess, but I think whoever broke in sprayed your keypad with graphite or some other fine dark powder to see which four keys had fingerprints on them. No one ever touches the keys that aren’t part of their code,” she explained.

“The bad guys rapidly cycle through all the combinations using those four keys,” she continued. “They may even have some info as to the most frequently used four-digit codes as a starting point. At any rate, most systems give you at least a minute to enter the code, and you can enter a lot of combinations in that amount of time.”

Harriet ran her hand through her hair.

“What I don’t get is why damage my machine? If they’re trying to run me out of town, the arson attempt sort of makes sense, but why attack the machine?”

Morse leaned back in her chair.

“I think the whole machine/fire thing was an afterthought.”

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

“When they let you back in your house, you can check around your desk, but I think your office area was the real target. Someone dug in your files and left some on the floor, and the hard drive on your computer is missing.”

Lauren looked at Harriet.

“You signed up for the back-up service I recommended, right?”

“I did.”

“Whew.” Lauren blew her breath out in a rush. “All you need is a new drive, and we can call all your information back, good as new.”

“I’d like to have a look when you do that. If you don’t mind, that is,” Morse said.

“I hope they’re ready to be disappointed,” Harriet said with a grim smile. “I didn’t have anything related to Molly’s issues on my computer.”

Lauren laughed.

“Little did they know, they should have purse-snatched Robin’s bag.”

Morse looked at her, confused.

“She makes notes on legal tablets at our meetings,” Harriet explained.

Connie sipped her tea.

“Do you think we need to warn Robin that something might happen?”

Morse pulled a small notebook and pen from her pocket and made a note.

“I doubt most people know who is in your group, and even then, they wouldn’t know who takes notes. Just in case, though, I think I’ll ask for increased patrols in all of your neighborhoods.”

Jorge reappeared from the kitchen with the tea kettle.

“Anyone need a refill?”

Beth smiled up at him, and he topped off her cup.

“Are you sure this has to do with Molly?” he asked when he got to Morse.

“I don’t think we’re sure of anything, but I don’t happen to believe in coincidence. Molly comes to town and asks Harriet and the rest of the Loose Threads to help her solve her mystery from twenty years ago, and then she gets murdered.” Morse raised her eyebrows. “If Beth’s accident and Harriet’s break-in aren’t a result of that, I’ll be amazed. No, I’ll be shocked. Both of those events are related to Molly now and Amber Price in the past. We just don’t know how yet.”

Connie stiffened her back.

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

Morse laughed.

“I feel like a broken record. You all need to do nothing. Finish your quilts, go to the benefit, and let us take care of the bad guys.”

“What if we’re making a quilt for the bad guy?” Lauren asked.

“Just stay away from him and everyone else related to this case. We’ll have plainclothes policemen at the award ceremony, just in case.”

Harriet sighed.

“Can I go home?”

Morse sipped her tea, and then pressed her lips together firmly.

“You should plan on staying somewhere else tonight,” she finally said. “The fire department has an arson investigation crew there along with the usual criminalist team. You can call the PD in the morning to be sure they’ve released the scene before you go home.”

Harriet’s shoulders sagged.

“You can come stay with me,” Mavis offered. “Your dog is already there, and I have a kitty pan and litter from when I took care of Fred when you and Beth went to that quilt show in Arizona.”

“Thanks, that would be great,” Harriet agreed.

Connie stood up and started gathering her things.

“Shall we meet for coffee in the morning before we go to the church to get the quilt frame out and set up?”

Lauren slipped her messenger bag over her shoulder.

“Sounds good to me. And, Harriet…” She leaned forward to make eye contact. “I have a couple of spare new hard drives on my shelf. I can bring you one and install it whenever you get your house back. The police probably won’t take your computer, since it’s the hard drive that’s missing.”

“That would be great.”

“No problem. I also keep spare power supplies, if that ever comes up.”

“Good to know,” Mavis said.

James stood and held out a hand to help Harriet.

“We should get going, too.”

Her mouth twitched into a weak smile as she took his hand and rose.

“I guess we’re lucky Jenny still has the third quilt top.” She looked around for her purse, but James found it first and handed it to her. “I’ll see you all in the morning.”

“I can call Jenny and Carla,” Aunt Beth said.

Jorge started gathering cups and napkins from the table.

“You all go on ahead, I can get this.”

Beth smiled at him in gratitude as the rest left.

James turned to Harriet when they were both settled in the van’s front seat.

“Do we need to stop at the store before I take you on to Mavis’s house?”

Harriet tried to smile but failed.

“Sadly, I have toiletries at her house left over from the last time I had to stay someplace that wasn’t my own home.”

“You’ll have to tell me that story later.” He reached to pull her across the bench seat, scooping her into his arms. “Are you okay?”

She leaned her head against his chest.

“No, I’m not. I’ve had enough of Foggy Point. I’ve lived here a little over a year, and in that time, I’ve been whacked in the head, the leg and had my arm burned. My house has been broken into twice, and all my friends cars were bombed in my driveway. I’m done. As I was sitting there in my aunt’s house looking at her with her bum foot and injured arm, I realized this isn’t working for me. I may not have been completely happy in California, but never once was my physical being attacked, and my aunt was safe and sound.”

James hugged her closer and kissed the top of her head.

“You don’t know that your aunt’s trouble has anything to do with you, and, do you really think the rest of your friends wouldn’t be checking out Molly’s death if you weren’t here?”

“Lauren wasn’t involved in this sort of stuff until I came along, and the others might talk about it, but I’m the one who always takes action for the group.”

“But look how many people are in jail because you took action. What if they investigated without you, and they weren’t as good at it, and the criminals prevailed? What then? Your friends could be in worse trouble.”

“I know you’re trying to help, but I’m seriously thinking I need to leave town. My machine getting damaged is a sign. And now that I’ve made peace with Steve’s friends in California, there’s nothing to stop me. I could restart my long-arm quilting business there.”

James dropped his head.

“Just when we were getting to know each other. Can you at least stay until the police catch Molly’s killer? I don’t want to have to worry about whoever it is following you to California. Besides, maybe if we have more time to make out in your kitchen, you’ll change your mind and stay.”

“This isn’t a joke.”

“Who’s joking?”

James turned her in his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed away the protest she’d been going to make and slowly massaged her back with his hands.

“I’m not leaving until my aunt’s back on her feet, at any rate,” Harriet said with a sigh when they’d separated.

James kissed her again—one last, quick brush of lips together—and settled her in the seat beside him, reaching across her to pull down the center seat belt. Harriet smelled his unique blend of soap and lemon disinfectant and sighed. Things had been so clear when she was in her aunt’s house, staring at her aunt’s injury and trying to figure out if she needed to call her insurance man or a quilt machine rep. Besides, she reminded herself, she was done arranging her life around a man.

She watched him as he checked the mirrors and pulled out onto the road. He seemed so open—
seemed
being the operative word. One conclusion she’d come to during her late-night, sleepless self-analysis sessions was that the last two men she’d loved hadn’t liked to share the important issues in their lives. Choosing two in a row with the same characteristic wasn’t a conscious choice on her part, but it was definitely something she needed to be aware of; and she wasn’t sure what it said about her. Until she figured that out, she wasn’t ready to get involved with anyone.

James looked at her and smiled, testing her resolve.

Harriet sighed again and smiled back.

Mavis had arrived first and had the dogs out in her yard when Harriet and James got there. Harriet opened the side door on the van and crawled inside to find Fred.

“I’ll bet you’re ready to go inside,” she said when she’d pulled him from behind the big cooler.

“I’ll get your purse and coat,” James told her as she passed him with her armload of cat.

Mavis herded the dogs toward the door.

“Make sure the gate latch catches,” she instructed James before she followed Harriet indoors. “I’m warming milk for hot cocoa. You looked like you could use a little chocolate.”

Harriet gave her grateful glance.

“I could use something, that’s for sure.”

James set Harriet’s purse and fleece jacket on the kitchen table.

“I’m going to take off. I’m sure Cyrano’s wondering where his dinner is.”

Harriet walked him to the door.

“Thank you for everything. I can’t tell you how grateful I am that you came to my house when you did.”