Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) (6 page)

Harriet laughed. “So, this…” She gestured at the table. “…was all a setup? Why didn’t you just tell me you need me to sign on?”

He had the good grace to blush.

“If I’d asked you right off the bat, you might not have gotten in the car. I know you have a weakness for chocolate.”

Harriet looked down at the cocoa he’d ordered for her without asking.

“Here I thought you were just an unassuming nice guy. I’m going to have to file this away for future reference. ‘James is more devious than he looks.’”

“Have I heard a yes in there yet? I brought along a box of my homemade truffles. Do I need to deploy them?”

“Yes, I’ll help you, and yes, you definitely need to deploy the truffles.”

James sat back in his chair.

“Boy, you are one tough negotiator.”

“Now, it’s your turn. I need some help with something.”

“Uh-oh. Am I going to have to pay the price for my manipulations?”

“This won’t be hard. You grew up in Foggy Point, right?”

“I’ve been here my whole life, except for the ten years when I went to culinary school and then my apprenticeship in New York.”

“What I’m going to ask you took place before that. Do you remember when a little girl named Amber Price disappeared? You would have been in your teens when it happened, I think.”

He stared out the window.

“I think I do remember that. Wasn’t there another girl who was found but couldn’t tell them what happened?”

“Yes, that’s the case. It turns out the one who survived is my friend DeAnn’s half-sister. According to DeAnn, her sister has had a lifelong obsession about it. She’s here in town for a fundraiser right now—she works for a non-profit that deals with missing and exploited child cases. She’s starting to ask our quilt group members to help her.”

“If the police couldn’t figure it out then, what are you supposed to do all this time later?”

Harriet took a sip of chocolate and set her mug down.

“You begin to see my problem. Since she’s DeAnn’s sister, I have to try. Lauren is digging on the Internet, and I said I’d ask around.”

James leaned toward her.

“Maybe I
can
help. My mom has a friend who lives in that neighborhood and has forever. I didn’t pay much attention at the time, but they talk about everything, so if there was any talk on the street, my mom probably knows.”

“Can you ask her?”

“It’ll be better if I hook you two up. If
I
ask, she’ll talk for thirty minutes, and I won’t remember it all, and half the stuff won’t even relate to the question at hand.”

“That would be great…I think.”

“So, what are you quilting on this week?” he asked her, changing the subject.

They discussed her stitching and his new menu items, and before she knew it, they were leaving for the race meeting.

Harriet was looking forward to a quiet evening of takeout and binge-watching a British mystery series on TV. The only decision was which cuisine it would be. She pulled a collection of menus from her kitchen drawer and spread them out on the countertop.

Fred rubbed against her ankle, and she reached down and scratched his ears.

“What do you vote? Do you want to lick up after Thai?” She looked at him for any indication of interest.

“I hope you’re talking to one of your pets,” Mavis said as she came in from the studio carrying a covered dish.

“Did we have a plan I don’t remember?” Harriet rocked back on her heels. “Please tell me this isn’t another intervention. Is Aunt Beth on her way? No offense, but I can’t do this again.”

Mavis’s shoulders sagged as she walked past Harriet to the stove, where she set her dish down.

“I can just leave this with you, then.” She started for the door.

“Wait. I’m sorry.” She stepped over and put her hand on Mavis’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “Let me take your coat. Come in.”

The older woman shrugged out of her light jacket and hung it in the coat closet.

“Maybe I am being too pushy. I saw your face the other day when you found out Aiden’s been calling Carla every week. I just thought…well…I thought you might not want to be alone on a Friday night.”

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I’m talked out when it comes to Aiden. I know it’s terrible, what his sister did to him. I know he has to recover, but once again, he’s choosing to do that alone, without me. I understand that, I really do. The whole year he and I have known each other, he’s had terrible things happen, and it’s all been done by people who supposedly love him.

“He and I met and fell in love, but it wasn’t enough. At every turn, he chose to shut me out. I know it’s probably selfish, but I want to come first. I want to put him first in my life, and I want him to put me first in his.”

“Oh, honey, that’s not selfish, that’s how it should be.”

They stood in silence for a long moment. Harriet looked over at the foil-covered dish.

“So, what did you bring?”

“It’s my famous chili-cheese-dog casserole. You should pop it in the oven for about fifteen or twenty minutes—it probably cooled a little on the drive over, and it’s best piping hot.”

“I’ll make us tea while it warms up. I was planning on binge-watching
Black Coat
tonight. The new season started three weeks ago, and I haven’t gotten to watch any of them yet. If you haven’t seen them I think I’d like some company.”

Mavis brightened. “Oh, honey, I haven’t—my cable’s been on the fritz, and they had to order me a new box. I’d love to stay and watch if you really don’t mind.”

“Say no more. It’s a small price to pay for dinner delivered to my door.”

“If you have a little lettuce, I can throw a salad together.”

“I can do you one better. I’ve got salad in a bag.”

Mavis smiled. “Perfect.”

Harriet was munching on an antacid when Mavis arrived the next morning. She slid the roll of tablets into her jeans pocket.

“Good morning, and thanks again for bringing dinner last night.”

“You don’t have to hide those Tums. I know I got it a little too spicy last night.”

“But it tasted so good.”

“It did, but hand ’em over. I could use one myself.”

Harriet laughed and did as she was told.

“How many blocks did you finish,” she asked.

Mavis pulled a stack of nine-patch blocks from her bag and set them on the kitchen counter.

“I finished ten.”

“As Lauren would say, ‘Aren’t you the overachiever’.”

“Well, honey, I knew you had to get back to machine stitching on your regular customers’ quilts, and Lauren has
her
day job, and Carla has that little girl and big house to take care of. I figured I’d take the pressure off the rest of you. Besides, it was nice to just stay home and sew.”

Lauren had joined them as Mavis was speaking.

“How very thoughtful of you. And perceptive. Harriet and I worked together, and even with Jane Morse pressing seams for us, we still only got ten done between us.”

Harriet looked out the kitchen window.

“Carla’s arriving. Let’s go to the studio. I’m dying to know if all our careful measuring resulted in blocks that are the same size.”

“How can you even question it?” Lauren asked.

“That would be ‘experience with our group’,” Harriet shot back.

Mavis shooed them through the connecting door and into the studio.

“You two behave yourselves, Carla’s about to walk in.”

Mavis opened the door to let their youngest member in. Carla’s black hair was pulled back from her face and braided.

“Oh, honey, your hair looks cute pulled back like that.”

Carla blushed.

“Wendy kept fighting me about putting her hair up or in barrettes or pretty much any way except hanging down. I finally realized she was trying to look like me. So, now I’m braiding my hair every day, and most days now she doesn’t argue about hers.”

“Well, whatever the reason, I like it.” Mavis told her.

Carla set her bag on the cutting table and pulled out a stack of blocks.

“I only got five blocks done,” she announced.”Our kitchen sink got all plugged up, and I ended up having to call the plumber last night. He brought his puppy with him, and Wendy played with it while he snaked our drain. She was so excited she didn’t go to sleep until ten. All she could do was talk about ‘puppy’.”

Harriet put her blocks on the table next to Carla’s.

“I only got five done, too, and my excuse isn’t nearly as fun as a puppy.”

Lauren pulled hers out.

“What she said.”

Mavis joined them at the cutting table.

“We’re in good shape. We only need thirteen more nine-patch blocks. With four of us here, we should be able to do that today and probably cut them all up, too.”

Harriet gathered the individual stacks of blocks and started piling them into a single group.

“Let’s not prolong the agony.” She lined up the edges. “Well, look at that.”

Lauren leaned in for a closer look, and then held her hand up to Carla for a high-five.

“Just like I said, they match perfectly.” She laughed.

Harriet smiled.

“Yeah, just like you said.”

Mavis selected two rotary cutters from a box on the work room shelf and handed them to Harriet and Lauren.

“Here, you two cut strips, and Carla and I will sew and press them.”

Harriet arched her spine and put a fist in her lower back. She and Lauren had cut all the basic strips and were now cutting the seamed units Carla and Mavis were making into rectangles.

“Anyone ready for a break? I have a box of lemon cookies and could make tea.”

Lauren stood her iron on its heel.

“Count me in.”

Carla got up from her sewing machine and arched backward at the waist. She paused and looked out the window.

“Who’s that?” She pointed to a blue car coming up the driveway.

Harriet came to her side and looked where she was pointing.

“I don’t recognize the car or the guy driving it, but that looks like De-Ann’s sister Molly in the passenger seat.”

Her guess was confirmed when Molly got out of the car and approached the door, followed by a slight, dark-haired man.

“I’ll go get the cookies,” Mavis said.

“Come on in,” Harriet said as she opened the door. “You remember Carla and Lauren.”

Molly raised her hand slightly and wiggled her fingers in acknowledgment and then stepped to the side, revealing her companion.

“This is my friend Stewart Jones. We crossed paths at the Foggy Point missing children’s office. I’m borrowing office space there until the fundraiser.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harriet said and then looked at Molly. “We were just taking a break from sewing on the donor quilts. Would you like to join us?”

Molly and Stewart agreed, so she led them to the kitchen, followed by Lauren and Carla. Mavis had pulled the kitchen table from its normal position against the wall so they could use all six chairs.

“So, what’s
your
interest in Amber Price,” Mavis asked Stewart when introductions were complete and the reason for the unannounced arrival explained.

“Well,” he said slowly, “she is, or was…would have been…my foster sister. Sandra Price was my foster mom until I aged out of the system, but I came to live with her after Amber had already disappeared. That family did so much for me, I guess my hope is if I can finally give them some kind of closure about Amber, it will in some small way pay them back for all the support and kindness and everything they’ve done for me.”

Molly cleared her throat.

“Speaking of Amber, the reason we came by is to see if you’ve had a chance to investigate.”

“I think you’re overestimating my powers as a detective,” Harriet protested. “Besides…” She glanced around the table at her friends. “…we’ve been spending our free time making the donor quilts for your fundraiser.”

“I’m sorry, I knew that. And I know I only asked you yesterday. I’m just so desperate for answers. I feel like this has been hanging over my head my whole life.” Tears filled her eyes, and Stewart Jones reached over and put his hand on hers.

“So, what do you do?” Mavis asked him, giving Molly a chance to compose herself.