Quilt As Desired (14 page)

"You're bad."

They drove to Mama T's, picked up the pizza and returned to the house, limiting their conversation to a generic discussion of how much Foggy Point had changed since they'd each last lived there, avoiding any mention of Avanell or her finances.

The quilters worked another three hours after their pizza feast. They filled bags with the sorted fabric and agreed there was at least another days'-worth of work left.

"Can everyone come back tomorrow?” Mavis asked.

Connie said she could come after church. Harriet, Jenny, Mavis and DeAnn agreed to meet at nine. Robin's mother-in-law was coming for the day so she had to pass, but she said she'd track down Lauren and find out why she was a no-show. If possible, she'd line her up for the next day.

Mavis and Harriet got into the Town Car and headed down the hill.

"We made a fair amount of progress today,” Mavis said.

"Yeah, it makes me want to go home and do some stash-thinning."

"I know what you mean, except I'm too tired to do anything but put my feet up and veg in front of the tube."

"I hear you. Those stairs to the third floor were killer."

"Not so killer you didn't go up there with Aiden more than once."

Harriet's face turned pink. “Purely a coincidence."

"I saw the way he looks at you with those big blue eyes of his. He's definitely smitten."

"He's a child. Well, practically."

"He's not that young. And you're not that old. And don't you try and tell me you haven't given it a thought."

She felt her face transition from pink to flaming red. “So I can appreciate a good-looking guy. A too-young good-looking guy. I'm sure he sees me as a big sister."

"Listen, missy, I raised five sons, and believe me—Aiden does not look at you like he does his sister."

"Well, certainly not how he looks at his sister right now,” Harriet conceded. “I overheard them arguing when we were leaving, and she was pretty harsh."

"They usually get along well enough. Avanell's death has got them both out of kilter.” She shook her head. “I can't say as I blame them for acting out a little. It must be an awful thing to have your momma murdered."

"Did Avanell ever talk about her business?"

"Oh, she'd say something once in a while. If a new product made a big splash or sometimes if her employees were fighting she might ask the group their opinion when we sat around stitching."

"Had she said anything lately?"

"No, she hadn't.” Mavis paused. “Something's been wrong for a while, though."

"In what way?” Harriet asked.

"Nothing you could really put your finger on. Just small stuff. She wasn't buying fabric. I know—with a stash like we just saw she could have gone years without buying fabric, but until lately, she didn't. She usually bought pretty regular. And her car. She always said her car was her one vanity item. She bought a new Mercedes sedan every year. Except this year. This is the first year she skipped since George died."

"Do you know why?"

"I assumed she must be having money problems, but she never did say."

Harriet knew all about families who kept secrets.

Fred was pacing in the kitchen when Harriet entered from the studio.

"Did you eat all the food I left in your dish already?” She picked up his empty dish and poured a carefully measured half-cup of kibble into it. She glanced at the clock on the stove—it was ten after five. Pins and Needles stayed open until six on Saturday night.

She grabbed her purse from the chair by the door; the studio was in good enough shape she could afford to skip a night. A hand-piecing project would be just what the doctor ordered, and she'd seen a new cat print series that would make a nice kitty quilt for Fred. He had adopted a green wool-upholstered chair in her bedroom and was leaving a covering of cat fur in his wake. If they were going to be here for a while, it would need some protection. There was a movie rental store at the bottom of the hill, too; her Saturday night was shaping up nicely.

"I'll be back in a few,” she yelled to Fred, who didn't look up from his dish.

She went out into the damp early-evening air, got into her car and drove into downtown Foggy Point.

The bell on the door to Pins and Needles jingled as she crossed the threshold.

"Be right with you,” Marjory called from behind a row of fabric bolts. “Oh, hi, Harriet,” she said as Harriet rounded the end of the display.

Carla Salter stood beside Marjory, studying her tattered canvas shoes.

"Meet my newest employee, Carla Salter. She's going to start working for me a few hours on the weekends."

"We met the other night,” Harriet said. “How are you doing, Carla?"

Carla mumbled a reply, but Harriet couldn't make out what she'd said.

"I've got the studio pretty much back together, so I thought I'd take a night off and start a hand-piecing project. I saw some cat fabric you were unpacking when I was here on Tuesday. I thought I might make a small quilt for my cat Fred."

"Carla can show you where we put that,” Marjory said. “You know which fabric she's talking about?"

"The Makower UK cats?"

"Yes,” Harriet said.

"Over here."

Carla led her two rows over to a section that had several lines of stylized animal fabrics.

"Thanks.” Harriet pulled several bolts off the shelf.

Carla had moved back a few steps but was still in the aisle.

"What do you think of these?” Harriet asked her.

"I like the blue-and-brown one,” she said, so quietly Harriet almost didn't hear her.

"I do, too. What do you think about the orange for accent fabric? Is it too much?"

"Depends on your cat. If it's got a strong personality it probably would like the orange. If it's the kind that sleeps all day the off-white would probably be better.” She spoke a little louder this time.

"Fred is definitely a strong personality, so orange it is."

"Do you want me to take these to the counter for you?"

"Yes, thanks. I'm going to look around a little more."

Carla's eyes widened and her cheeks turned red.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you."

"No, it's fine. You are doing fine. By the way, did you ever find your friend the other night?” Harriet asked, trying to distract her from her distress. Doing a customer service job had to be a big stretch for her.

Carla twisted her hands in the hem of her faded blue T-shirt.

"She never showed,” she said then looked up. “I'm getting really worried. I got Jason from work to drive me by her place on Friday, but it doesn't look like she's been there."

"Does she have family she might be staying with?"

"She doesn't talk to her family.” Carla paused. “She's had problems they can't understand."

Or maybe they understand all too well, Harriet thought. “What kind of problems?"

Carla was silent, and Harriet was afraid she'd overstepped the boundary of their tenuous relationship. She turned back to the fabric bolts.

"She has problems in her head,” Carla finally said in a soft voice. “That's why I'm so worried about her. She needs to take her medicine. As long as she does it real regular she's fine. Miz Avanell helped her with her medicine. She just got some last week, but I don't think she took it with her when they fired her. It was in her toolbox, and Tony didn't let her take her toolbox when she left. I tried to find it on Friday, and it was gone already."

"Maybe she got a new prescription from the pharmacy,” Harriet suggested.

"She doesn't have money, and the thing is, when she's late taking her pill she starts getting weird ideas. And she starts thinking she don't need to take any medicine anymore. Then she gets hyper and—I'm just worried about her. She's a good person, really. She can't help the way she is."

"Well, she's lucky to have a friend like you to worry about her."

Carla's cheeks turned a deeper red, and she busied herself picking up the bolts of fabric.

"These'll be at the front,” she said, and carried them to the cutting table.

Marjory cut the fabric and sent Harriet on her way with promises to see her the next day at Avanell's. Harriet continued down the block, turned the corner and walked another block to Foggy Point Video.

"DeAnn?"

"Oh, hi, Harriet."

"Do you work here? Of course you do. Why else would you be behind the counter? I'm sorry."

"Harriet, it's okay. Why would you know where I work? My family owns this place. I work here part-time."

"I'm sorry. I must seem like a fool. I'm still getting used to being back in Foggy Point. I'm not used to seeing people I know running every other business I go into."

"Well, it has its good points and its bad points. Here everyone knows everyone else's business. Most of the time, anyway—and we protect our own,” DeeAnn added.

"What are people saying about Avanell's murder?"

"So far, no one seems to know much. Tony, the supervisor, fired a girl who had worked there for a while a few days ago, and now she's missing along with the contents of the safe. The police are working on that theory, but I haven't heard anything more."

"So, they think this girl killed Avanell and then robbed the place? Or Avanell caught her in the act? Does that seem possible?"

"It's the only thing they've got, according to my cousin who works in the sheriff's department."

"It's just so sad. Avanell and my aunt Beth were friends for as long as I can remember."

"The community is going to miss Avanell, too. She was a generous benefactor for a lot of civic projects around here."

"Had she donated much lately?” Harriet asked.

"Hmmm. You know, now that you mention it, I don't think she has been involved this year. Of course, we haven't had anything big going on, either. I'm the secretary of the Foggy Point Business Association. Avanell made a substantial donation to the skate park and playground equipment project two years ago. And of course, there are the scholarships, but then I guess she set those up when George died. Why do you ask?"

"I just wondered. My aunt seemed to think she was worried about something, and you know money is always one of those things people worry about."

"I can't imagine Avanell having to think about money. In our business association meetings she seemed pretty sharp where that was concerned. For our projects, she was always getting suppliers to sell us materials at cost, and she got the skate park ramps donated outright. I can't imagine she would be different in her own business."

"It must have been something else, then,” Harriet said, deciding she had learned all DeeAnn could tell her. “I'm starting a new hand-piecing project tonight and was hoping to find a good movie to watch while I do. Something light and fluffy."

She had developed an embarrassing addiction to romance movies. She always cried at the happy endings.

"Follow me.” DeAnn led her in the direction of a sign that read Romantic Comedy.

A half-hour later, Harriet had two comedies and a historical romance in her bag and a week to watch them in.

Dusk had turned into dark while she was in the video store. She knew Foggy Point was safer than Oakland, but she still hurried up the deserted block toward her car.

As she turned the corner she heard a shuffling noise behind her. She sped up, and the sound turned into the distinct rapping of boot heels on pavement. The footsteps sped up as well.

"Hey,” Aiden called. “Wait up.” A strange-looking dog danced around his feet. “Randy, sit,” he said, and the little dog obeyed.

"Aiden,” she said in relief. “You scared me to death."

"I'm sorry. I saw your car parked up by Pins and Needles, and I was on my way to the Rice Bowl when I saw you go into the video store. Randy and I were waiting for you to come out, but she got distracted by a rat back there,” He pointed to a narrow alley. “And you got by us."

"What did you want?"

"I was going to offer a deal I hoped you couldn't refuse."

"I'm listening,” she said, and reminded herself again that Sarah was right, Aiden was way too young for her to be having heart palpitations over.

"Okay.” He nervously rubbed his well-muscled left arm with his right hand. “How about I buy dinner, and then we go back to your place and watch your movies,” he said in a rush.

"You don't even know what movies I have in here,” she said as she held up the bag.

"I don't care. If you like them, I'll like them."

"You mean to tell me you want to sit through an educational video on women and menopause? You
are
an evolved young man."

"Very funny. I think we both know that isn't what you have in there. For one thing, you're not old enough."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. My brother Marcel told me you were one class ahead of him in high school. And I do know my mammalian biology. By the way, he had a crush on you back then."

"I was, and I knew that."

"But you were a mysterious older woman who wouldn't give him the time of day?"

"He was a Star Trek geek who went around making secret hand gestures and speaking Klingon to his friends."

"I'd like to think you were saving yourself for his charming younger brother."

"Listen to what you're saying. When I was in high school you were in second grade."

He closed the distance between them, and her breath caught in her throat as he gazed deep into her eyes.

"I'm not in second grade anymore."

He cupped her chin in his hand and brushed his mouth lightly over hers. The touch of his lips shocked her to her core, but she didn't break away.

"You're definitely old enough,” she said when they separated.

"Do I get to come watch movies, then?"

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea,” she said and absently rubbed a finger across her lips.

"If I promise to behave myself?” he asked. “Unless you don't want me to, that is."

"I have a feeling I'm going to live to regret this, but okay. You buy dinner, I'll show movies and we'll see what Fred thinks of Randy."

Dinner turned out to be fast food Chinese take-out. Harriet dropped Aiden and Randy at his apartment so he could get his car then went on up the hill. She carried dinner into the kitchen.