Quilter's Knot Read online

  "Where have you been?"

  "My brother saw the police arrive and heard them mention my name. He came and found me. I stayed at his place. Don't waste any time worrying about ratting me out—I won't be there again—but I need to know. Have you found out who killed Selestina?"

  "So far, everything I've found says you did it,” Harriet said and sat down on her bed opposite Lauren. “And for what it's worth, I don't think it's a wise move hiding from the police."

  "Yeah, that's easy for you to say. You're not the one being framed. Innocent people go to jail all the time."

  "So far, all I've found is a lot of contradictory information. Selestina's son at the very least has the knowledge to prepare the poison that killed her, and he freely admits he's trying to change the direction of the business, but it's not obvious he needed to kill his mother to do that. We did find the quilt counterfeiting operation thanks to a tip from your brother, but so far that hasn't gone anywhere. I don't know what else to tell you."

  "You need to get cracking. I can't stay hidden forever. Someone wanted the old bat dead. You're supposed to be the big crime solver—figure it out."

  "Wait a minute! I never claimed to be able to solve crimes."

  "You figured out who killed Avanell, and if you can do it for her, you can do it for me. Besides—"

  "I know,” Harriet cut her off. “I owe you."

  Lauren gave her a smug smile. “Yes, you do, so get to work. Now, I've got to go get some clothes and get out of here before someone wakes up and sees me."

  She jumped up and swept out of the room. Harriet flopped back on her bed and put her hands on her forehead.

  "What am I going to do?” she asked the ceiling.

  No answers were forthcoming, so she got up, pulled her gray sweatshirt on over her jeans and green T-shirt, grabbed her wallet and went downstairs.

  The kitchenette was dark, and she didn't want to turn on the lights and chance waking one of the early risers, so she went on out to the porch. She never tired of the forest that surrounded the Tree House. The smell of damp earth and pine needles was calming. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was about to sit on the porch swing when she heard a rustle in the bushes.

  Harriet quietly stepped down the stairs and around the side of the Tree House toward the restroom building. She could hear voices coming from the trail, and quickly slid behind a large rhododendron.

  "That was a really foolish move,” a low voice whispered.

  "I had to do something, didn't I?” Both people were whispering, and she couldn't identify either one.

  "You need to decide whose team you're on, and if it's not mine, we have a problem. And you know how I feel about problems."

  Harriet wiggled around, but the foliage was too thick for her to see anything. She felt her bush move as someone pushed past it and went on down the trail. She held her breath and a few seconds later, heard footsteps crunching the gravel on the trail going in the opposite direction. She waited what she estimated to be five minutes then crept back to the porch.

  Aiden arrived just as she started to sit on the swing for a second time.

  "Did you see anyone on the path or in the parking lot?” she asked.

  "No, should I have?"

  She quickly recounted the conversation she'd overheard.

  "Oooh, so it's a conspiracy,” he said and pulled her into his arms. “I've missed you.” He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her against his chest.

  "You have a funny way of showing it,” she complained, but slid her arms around his waist.

  "Hey, I defended your honor, what more do you want?"

  "You mean when you clocked some poor guy in the jaw just because he touched me?"

  "Some poor guy who might have killed his own mother."

  "Well, there is that,” She looked up into his white-blue eyes, barely suppressing a laugh.

  Aiden's face grew serious. “I should have hit him harder. If he did kill his mother, he's probably the one who ran me off the road and tried to burn you and Carla alive."

  "That's a big if,” Harriet said and let go of him. “Come on, you promised coffee, and it's cold out here."

  He leaned in and kissed her lightly, sending shivers all the way to her toes, then turned and led the way up the path to the parking area. She sighed and followed. No matter how she fought it, he did make her heart go pitty-pat.

  "Guess who was in my room when I got back from my shower,” she said when they were both buckled into their seats in the nondescript rental car.

  "Don't even say Tom Bainbridge."

  "Lauren,” she replied.

  "Isn't she staying in the Tree House?” Aiden pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Angel Harbor.

  "She was until she went on the lam."

  He turned and looked at her.

  "Hey, watch the road. One accident this week is enough,” she said.

  "Are you serious? Lauren is hiding from the police?"

  "They're looking for her, and she didn't come home last night. She said she stayed at her brother's, but she won't be there anymore. And before you say anything, yes, I told her she was being foolish and she should turn herself in. She said innocent people go to jail all the time. I have to admit I couldn't argue with that."

  "This is getting crazy,” he said as he pulled into a parking space in front of a cedar-sided building overlooking the harbor.

  "You know what's really crazy?” Harriet said when they had both ordered their drinks, switching to cocoa at the last minute, and were settled on a worn purple sofa that faced a window overlooking the water. “What's crazy is that I've been spending a lot of time with Carla this week."

  "If you think that's crazy you need to get out more,” Aiden said with a smile.

  Harriet gave him a playful punch on his shoulder. “If you would let me finish."

  "Please, continue."

  "Carla's been working at the quilt store for a couple of months now, and attending the single mothers quilt group for longer than that, but somehow, none of us picked up the fact that she's living with her baby in a borrowed van."

  "How can that be? Foggy Point has a homeless shelter—my mom donated a lot of money to it. And I'm pretty sure there's a women's shelter, too."

  "She told me herself, so I'm sure it's true. She's not battered, so she probably doesn't qualify for the women's shelter, and frankly, if I were faced with taking a baby to the homeless shelter, I'd probably choose a car myself. She said she takes the baby to a free daycare program. She begged me not to say anything, but I can't stop thinking of her and that baby parked on the street at night."

  "That's really harsh."

  "I've been toying with the idea of asking her to move into Aunt Beth's place with me. It's certainly big enough."

  He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

  "Has anyone ever told you, you have a really good heart?"

  Harriet leaned her head against him. It felt good. “I just feel so bad for her. When we were in the basement of that workshop, she was telling me how her mother used to lock her in closets to keep the mom's boyfriend from hurting her. And she was just so matter-of-fact about it, like it was the most normal thing in the world. And I could hear in her voice that she really believed her mom was protecting her. It wasn't in her reality that her mom had anything to do with the abuser being there in the first place."

  "Did you bring home birds that fell out of nests when you were a little girl?” he asked.

  "Yeah, right,” she said. “I brought home a stray kitten one time, and the head mistress took it from me and made me scrub my hands with a brush."

  "That's terrible.” He gave her a squeeze.

  "It is what it is, and compared to Carla, I had no problems at all."

  The waitress brought two mugs of steaming hot cocoa topped with generous dollops of whipped cream and set them on the scarred wooden table in front of the sofa.

  "Thanks,” Harriet told her with a
smile.

  "Can we forget all these other people and talk about us?” Aiden asked.

  She picked up her cup and sipped.

  "I'll take that as a yes,” he said. “I'd like to propose that we start over when we get back to Foggy Point."

  She started to protest, but he pressed a finger to her lips.

  "Let me finish before some other disaster interferes. A couple of weeks ago, I said I wanted to take you out, and then I no-showed. I know that was bad form, but we really were slammed with that contaminated pet food crisis. Then, when we got here, Cammi was fooling with my phone and erased your message. Maybe on purpose, maybe not, but in any case I never got it. Hitting Tom, I still stand by. He's a jerk."

  He paused, and Harriet seized her chance.

  "I agreed to go out to dinner. We're both adults, you don't owe me anything. You got busy. It happens."

  Aiden held her gaze. “You don't believe this is just a casual thing any more than I do,” he said.

  "I won't deny I find you attractive, but I'm also a lot older than you. A fact I've made very clear was an issue for me."

  "If I were ten years older than you, no one would give it a second thought, especially you."

  "You don't know that,” she objected, but in her heart she knew he was right.

  "Let me prove you wrong,” he pleaded.

  Harriet sipped her cocoa.

  "I gave you a chance a few weeks ago, and no matter how good your excuses, you were a no-show, which proves my point that, at your age, you need to concentrate on your career. I understand that."

  "Are you trying to tell me that if someone brought you a batch of quilting that had to be done in a short time for some reason, that you wouldn't cancel a date?"

  "I would, but the difference is I would call and tell you about it up front."

  "Point taken,” he said and hung his head. Strands of black hair fell over his eyes. “I'm sorry."

  He was right, she thought, she did feel the connection. And if she were truthful with herself, she'd acknowledge that he had bruised her fragile ego when he no-showed for their date and then called Jorge instead of her.

  She took another sip of her drink. “I suppose we could try again when we get back to Foggy Point. This time you have to pick me up at home."

  "Wild horses won't be able to stop me,” he said with a dazzling smile. He took her cup from her hands and set it on the table and then pulled her onto his lap. He gently took her face in his hands and kissed her. The waitress winked at her, and gave her a thumbs-up.

  For once, Harriet didn't care if she was making a spectacle of herself. She ran her fingers through his thick hair, twining them in the long strands.

  Aiden broke contact first. “Whew,” he said. “We better quit while we still can. Besides, I have an idea."

  "You mean you were thinking of something else just now? Way to stroke my ego."

  "I didn't say I thought of it just then—believe me, I was only thinking of one thing, and it wasn't Carla's living situation."

  "What's your idea for Carla?” She picked up her cup again.

  "I've been living in my apartment over the clinic since I've been back in Foggy Point, but I did inherit my mom's house on the hill. I've been toying with the idea of moving back there, but it's a really big house and I'd have to have help to take care of it. My mom's housekeeper was old, and when Mom died, Rose retired."

  "So, what does that have to do with Carla and her baby?"

  "I was thinking maybe Carla could be my housekeeper. She wouldn't have to do all the work herself—Mom had people that did all the windows and she had a gardener. Carla could make sure the jobs got done. She and her baby could have a couple of rooms, and there would still be space to spare."

  "That's a generous idea, but what if she doesn't know how to do the job?"

  "How bad could she be? Besides, I'll bet she's pretty resourceful if she's been living on the streets. And she can't be any worse at it than I'd be."

  "You can be a sweet guy when you want to be,” she said and gave him a quick kiss before standing up. “This has been fun, but we need to get back, don't we?"

  "Unfortunately, we do.” Aiden drained his cup, picked up hers and carried both to the counter.

  "You young men are so evolved,” she said with a laugh when he returned.

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Never mind,” she said with a smile.

  * * * *

  The trip back to the Tree House parking lot was spent planning Carla's move to Aiden's house.

  "I'll have to stay in the apartment until the clinic finds another tenant,” Aiden explained. “They like to have someone live on-site, since there are often overnight patients. Usually, it's one of the vet techs, but it was available when I came home so it was convenient for me. It'll probably take a couple of months to find someone, which will give Carla some time to settle in at my mom's house."

  "This is so great,” Harriet said with delight. “Thank you so much for helping her."

  "Anything for you.” He pulled into the parking lot then leaned over and brushed his lips over hers. “There's more where that came from,” he said. “When can I prove it to you?"

  "I'm not sure what the dinner plan is tonight, and then there's the whole Lauren thing. Can we talk later?"

  "Sure, as long as you promise you're not giving me the brush-off."

  She rested her hand on his thigh. “I promise, I'm not brushing you off.” She opened the door and got out.

  Aiden leaned toward the open door. “I'll talk to you later."

  "I'll look forward to it,” she said and turned and headed toward the path.

  "Harriet?” someone called from the direction of the path. “Is that you?” Nancy from the office appeared around a curve in the path. “I was just coming to find you,” she said. “I have a message for you.” She held out a pink phone message slip that was folded in half and held shut with a piece of tape. “This note was on my desk when I came in this morning. There was a sticky note attached that asked me to deliver this to you as soon as I got in. So, here."

  She thrust the note at Harriet then spun and walked back down the path, disappearing around the curve.

  The note tore slightly as Harriet pulled it open. I've got important information, meet me at my office as soon as you get this, the note read. It was signed “Tom."

  She went back to the parking area then down the road until she came to the next car park. If she had guessed correctly, this one would have a path that led to Pavilion A. She took a longer forested path and eventually came to a clearing that revealed the ceramics building. Perfect, she thought.

  The door to the pavilion was unlocked, and she pulled it open. The display pedestals that had held the pottery bowls off to the right on her previous visit had been removed, and a series of narrow shelves sat parallel to each other down the middle of the space. She had to stop and reorient herself. She counted the doorways, but still wasn't sure she choosing the one that led to Tom's office.

  The door was slightly ajar, and she pushed it open.

  "Tom? Are you here?"

  She froze at the scene in front of her. Papers covered every surface. The file cabinet drawers had all been pulled open, and as a result it had tipped forward. The table was on its side. Books had been pulled from the shelves and lay face-down open on the floor. Paper clips and rubber bands were strewn among the papers, and the wastebasket that had held the shredding had been dumped and the contents spread across the carpet.

  "Geez Louise,” Harriet whispered, but whatever else she might have said was cut off by a strong arm wrapping around her neck from behind.

  Pulled backward into someone larger and stronger, she kicked backward hard, connecting with a shin. When the arm loosened slightly, she dropped to the floor and rolled forward, coming to back to her feet in one motion to find herself face-to-face with Tom Bainbridge. At least they would have been face-to-face except that he was hunched over rubbing his shin. />
  "I think you broke my leg,” he gasped.

  "Why did you grab me?” she demanded, and stepped forward, righting a chair for him to sit on.

  "Stay back,” he ordered, and pulled the chair toward him. He sat down and pulled his cell phone from his pocket and started to dial.

  "Who are you calling?"

  "The police—who do you think?"

  "Wait. You don't think I did this, do you?” Her face was hot.

  "I've been patient with your snooping. I really have. But this is too much. I don't know who you think you are or what you think you're doing, but you've crossed the line here."

  Harriet grabbed for the phone, but he stretched his arm out, holding it as far behind him as he could.

  "Look,” she said, and pulled the pink note from her pocket. “You asked me to meet you here.” Anger blazed in her eyes. “I came because you asked me to. The door was open, so I came in and this is what I found.” She gestured to indicate the chaos.

  "I didn't ask you to meet me here. I got a text message that you had information about my mother and to meet you here."

  "Let me see the message."

  He pulled back his arm and pressed keys to bring up the message screen.

  "That's not my phone number,” she said. She pulled her own phone out of her pocket and quickly pushed the buttons to display her number. “Look.” She held it out. “I've never seen that number."

  "Okay, now I really am calling the police.” He dialed nine-one-one and quickly described the situation. “They'll be right here."

  "Sorry about your shin,” she said with a small smile.

  He rubbed it. “You have a heck of a kick. Where did you learn that?"

  "I used to live in Oakland. With the crime rate there it seemed prudent to take a women's self-defense course."

  "You must have been their top student."

  Harriet shrugged and smiled again.

  * * * *

  "Miss Truman,” Detective Ruiz said from the doorway a few minutes later. “Why am I not surprised to see you here?” Two uniformed officers stepped past him and into the room.

  "I don't know,” she said. “Why is a detective responding to a simple break-in?"