Quilt As You Go (25 page)

"I'm sorry,” he said. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her face up, then kissed her gently on the lips. “She's really upset about something, and I need to go see what's going on."

She put her good arm around his shoulder and leaned into him, twining her fingers through his silky hair. “Of course you do—go. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” She said this last with false enthusiasm and hoped he was distracted enough not to notice.

He stepped away.

"I'll call you tomorrow,” he said as he headed for the door. He glanced back at her, and she tried to convince herself it was a look of regret she saw on his face.

"Where's he going in such a hurry?” Mavis asked. Harriet hadn't noticed her enter the kitchen.

"Carla called. He said she was upset, so he had to go find out why."

"You do know she's not a threat, don't you?"

"That knowledge doesn't excuse his behavior,” Harriet complained and sat on a stool at the bar.

"That youthful lack of finesse is one of the things that attracts you to him, isn't it?"

Harriet didn't want to think about that, so she got up and started loading silverware into the dishwasher. She could justify the use of paper plates for a group dinner—they tended to start the bio-degrading process before dinner was over. Plastic silverware was a whole different thing, though. She imagined post-apocalyptic scenes with all living things gone and plastic forks sticking their tines skyward out of landfills everywhere, silent reminders of man's stay on earth. Because of this, she avoided them and opted to use her stainless flatware, even when the meal was eaten outside.

"I have to wonder what Carla's so upset about,” Mavis said, and Harriet realized she had missed out on the whole “spy on Terry” mission.

"Aiden didn't say, but my guess is it's something to do with her new friend, Terry."

"Why would she call Aiden about man troubles?"

"She's not having typical man troubles. Terry has proven to be a bit unreliable, which by itself might just mean he's a flake, but in reality, he's a man with an agenda. His claim that he's looking for people who knew his father doesn't ring true, especially in light of our recent discovery that he's sitting on a hill using binoculars to spy on Carlton's company."

"That doesn't sound like the usual genealogy search, does it?” Mavis said.

"No, I think he's investigating something else. It's not clear if the something else has to do with his father at all. He could be working for a person or persons unknown, or even an organization. He said he'd explain it all, and now he's playing hard to get."

"What do you mean?"

"He was supposed to meet Carla this morning for coffee, and he didn't show up. That alone makes me want to wring his neck. But if he's working for someone else, I'm sure his work, whatever it is, has to take priority over everything."

"Something else must have happened,” Mavis said and took over the dishwasher loading process. “Move over, it's going to take you all night, working with one hand. Our Carla gets resigned and dejected, but she's had too much experience with disappointment to become agitated over a missed date. And to call Aiden, she must have been real upset."

"I don't think so. They've become pretty close since she's been living there. You're right, though, she's not the hysterical type."

Mavis shut the dishwasher and turned it on. “Well, we aren't going to be able to figure it out until one of them tells us something, and that's not likely to be tonight.” She glanced at her narrow gold wristwatch. “Goodness, look at the time. I'm going to run my bunch out of here so you can get some rest. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your letting me use your house like this."

"After all the times you've helped me? Don't give it a second thought."

True to her word, Mavis went outside and encouraged her guests to call it a night.

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Harriet's hand was
caught in the drive chain of the conveyor belt at Foggy Point Fire Protection, and she was being dragged toward two giant rollers that compressed two layers of fiber into one. She tried to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth. She thrashed from side to side, but the belt kept moving. She awoke tangled in her sheets with Fred biting the knuckles of her good hand.

"Stop that,” she said and batted him away. “I left food in your dish last night after you were sawing logs, so at the very least, you've eaten that. I'll just bet at least one Willis boy has fed you, too."

She got up, showered and dressed, and went down to find her kitchen empty. She ate a bowl of cereal and fed Fred again before grabbing her purse and heading for the door to her studio. Aunt Beth arrived as she unlocked the door to the outside.

"Good morning. I hope I'm not being presumptuous, but since we still don't have any jobs pressing, I thought I'd work on my own quilt again."

"It's your machine."

"I gave it to you, though, and I'm trying to honor that."

"Oh, Auntie, what's mine is yours, literally.” Harriet smiled and gave her aunt a one-armed hug.

"So, where are you off to?” Beth asked. “You checking up on Carla and Aiden?"

"I guess you talked to Mavis."

"We had tea this morning. She said things went well with the family dinner."

"Yeah, it seemed to, after everyone got over the initial shock of finding out Gerald/Gerard had a daughter."

"Mavis said Carla called for Aiden at the end."

"She did. I've thought about this, and I think what bothers me is not that he goes to her, but more the way he does it."

"You need to tell him that,” Aunt Beth said.

"This gets back to the same old problem. I'm just not sure I want to ‘train’ someone ... another someone. Look how that turned out.” She was trying to leave Steve and his lies in the past, and she truly believed she was doing better, but it still sneaked up on her now and then.

"He's not a dog,” Aunt Beth said. “Any relationship requires communication by both parties. He's not a mind reader, and for that matter, neither are you. If you need him to act different before he goes to help someone else you need to tell him. Your uncle Hank and I were learning things about each other right up till the end."

"Well, in any case, Aiden's at work, so I'm not going to visit him. I thought I'd go talk to Carlton and see if he can tell me who Gerard/Gerald was working with twenty years ago and who is still around. Marit told me her father came back because a man was doing something bad and he could stop him. It has to relate to something that was going on twenty years or more ago. Our only other clue is the postcard he had Gerry send to the post office box about the chemical use."

"Don't forget what you saw from Miller Hill,” Aunt Beth reminded. “That has to fit into the picture."

"I think it's obvious the chemicals are being used to make something other than firemen's turnouts. And Carla's friend Terry has something to do with it. I just don't know what."

"Whatever is going on, someone cares enough about it to kill Gerald to keep it secret,” Aunt Beth said. “And you be careful, missy. Whoever killed Gerald is serious about protecting their business."

"I'm not doing anything dangerous, I promise. I'm going to talk to Carlton. I may go by Pins and Needles and see if Carla's there on my way home."

"I'll probably go by the church later and see if Jenny and DeAnn need any help arranging the flowers. The Dutch people are all in the business, so they called home last night and apparently have arranged for a lot of flowers to arrive this afternoon."

"I'll have my cell phone on if you need any help,” Harriet said and left.

July through September were among the warmest months in Foggy Point, but they also are the months when morning fog returns, and such was the case as Harriet drove down her driveway and headed for Foggy Point Fire Protection. Wisps of white mist clung to the Muckleshoot River and curled toward the roadway as she drove to the factory.

Lynn was in her customary place at the reception desk when Harriet came into the lobby.

"Is the big man in?” Harriet asked.

"Yeah. Want me to see if he's receiving this morning?"

"Please."

But before Lynn could carry out her offer, Carlton emerged from his office.

"Hi, Harriet,” he said “What can I do you for?"

"Gerald's funeral is going to be tomorrow at the Methodist Church. We're trying to get the word out, so I thought I'd come by and see if there are any people here that knew him and might want to be notified.” She mentally patted herself on the back for her brilliant ruse.

"I can post a notice in the lunchroom,” Carlton offered.

"I was hoping to be a little more pro-active than that. You know—I thought I could personally invite them."

"I'm sure they appreciate your concern, but that's what we have Human Resources for. They handle this type of thing. Lynn, have HR call Pastor Hafer at the Methodist Church and get the details. Thanks again for stopping by, Harriet.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her toward the entrance.

Harriet planted her feet before he could get her out the door.

"A couple of us went up to Miller Hill Park the other night to get mineral water,” she said. “We realized we were looking down on your factory."

Carlton didn't say anything.

"I didn't think you ran a night shift,” she said finally.

"We don't."

"
Someone
was working. The lights were on, and a big door was open on the side toward the end of the building."

"We rent that section to an outside company for warehouse space. Maybe they were shuffling their goods around. That wouldn't be a shock, if you think about it. Now, I've got to get back to work. It was nice seeing you, and thanks for the information about Gerald's funeral. We'll be sure and let anyone who plans on attending have the time off."

He turned his head at the sound of a door opening somewhere down the hall. Bebe appeared dressed in a bright-pink flower print mini-dress.

"Gosh, Harriet, are you here again? Seems like every time I turn around you're here bothering Carlton."

Harriet could feel her shoulders tensing, and it hurt. “I was telling Carlton about the funeral arrangements for Gerald. I thought since Gerald had worked with Carlton's dad for so long, he'd want to know."

"So what did that have to do with what's going on in our warehouse? That's what you were talking about when I came in, wasn't it?"

"Darling, it's okay. Harriet was at Miller Hill Park the other night and noticed the lights, that's all."

Bebe gave Harriet a mother-lioness-protecting-her-cub look then pivoted on her pink spike heel and went back down the hall.

"Don't mind Bebe,” Carlton said. “She's helping me manage my stress."

Harriet had no choice but to leave. She wasn't sure what else she could ask if he wouldn't acknowledge the basic fact that people were doing work at night. She got in her car and drove back to downtown Foggy Point.

Marjory was at the cutting table when Harriet walked into Pins and Needles.

"Did you come for a look at the new Christmas fabric I just got in?” she asked. “Connie beat you to it if you were hoping to be the first."

"I haven't given Christmas a thought yet. It's still summer."

"Exactly. Summer is when you should be thinking about those Christmas projects, especially if you plan on making bed quilts."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to look."

"That's my girl,” Marjory said with a smile. “Can I get you a cup of tea?"

Harriet smiled back and nodded then continued on into the small classroom, where Marjory had set up a temporary display of all the new fabric. She'd arranged the bolts of material around the room, draping lengths from some across chair backs while others were stacked on tables against the wall. All of them were placed for easy access and viewing. Once they went onto the shelves with all the other bolts of fabric, only their edge would show, like books on a shelf.

An hour passed before Harriet even thought to ask where Carla was.

"She asked if she could rearrange her schedule today. She said she was worried about her friend Terry and was going to look for him.” She checked her wristwatch. “She should be here in just a bit."

"Did she say where she was going to look?"

"She was going to check his hotel room and then drive up to Miller Hill Park and see if he was there."

"Why can't she just stay home and wait for him to resurface?” Harriet asked.

"Maybe she's been watching her mentor a little too close. Or maybe she wants you to know how your aunt feels."

"In any case,” Harriet said, not ready to admit Marjory may be onto something, “I think I'll go by Aiden's on my way home and see if she's back."

She tried to pick up four bolts of Christmas fabric with her one arm but could only manage two.

"Here, let me help you,” Marjory said. “How much do you want?"

"I think I'll have two yards of each.” She didn't have a plan for the fabric, but with two yards of each she should be able to do something. “And maybe I better have a yard of the cream-colored print that goes with them.” Harriet was trying to adhere to an article she'd read that pointed out most quilters didn't have enough light-colored fabrics in their stash and should therefore make it a point to pick up a neutral light color with every purchase, whether they needed it at the time or not.

Marjory unrolled several rotations'-worth of fabric off the first bolt and smoothed it out on her cutting table, measuring and moving it until she had two yards of the maroon-and-gray tree print to her right. She made a small cut on the fold of the fabric to mark the two-yard point then slid that point to the middle of her cutting mat and used her plexiglas ruler and rotary tool to cut the fabric in a straight line.

"You were here twenty years ago when Mavis's husband disappeared, weren't you?” Harriet asked.

"I've lived in Foggy Point my whole life, so yes, I was here when Gerald Willis died—the first time. I didn't own the store, of course, but I was around."