A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) Page 18

  “That’s too bad. At least Seth isn’t going to get the chance to kill her. She should be thankful for that.”

  “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t see it that way. In spite of everything, she still loves the guy.”

  “That’s really sick.”

  Harriet picked up the now-cold cup of tea she’d been drinking when Joshua had been there.

  “Joshua thinks Howard Pratt killed his mother.”

  “He could just be paranoid, or lying.”

  She sat down at the table opposite him.

  “So, given all we know, who do you think killed Seth?”

  Aiden leaned back, closed his eyes and ran both hands through his hair. After a moment, he blew his breath out.

  “If you had asked me that question a year ago, I’d have said it must have been a stranger, because what upstanding citizen of Foggy Point could kill their own flesh and blood. After my uncle killed my mother, and my sister did…what my sister did, I was questioning whether I could trust myself around my loved ones.”

  Harriet started to protest, but he raised his hand to silence her.

  “I’ve spent hours of my recent therapy talking to my counselor about the subject, and I accept that my uncle and my sister are responsible for their own actions. I even believe our bloodline isn’t cursed—at least, most of the time.”

  He gave her the crooked smile that melted her heart every time she saw it. She reached across the table and took his hand.

  “To answer your question, I don’t know. Howard is an obnoxious self-promoter, and it seems like he’s got half of Foggy Point in his pocket. On the other hand, he always talked about Seth like he was the anointed one. I assumed he was grooming him to take over the empire. It doesn’t make sense that he would send him off to school so he could become his resident pharmacist and then turn around and kill him. Besides, shooting someone doesn’t seem like Howard’s style.”

  Harriet gave him a wry smile.

  “And what, pray tell, is Howard’s style?”

  Aiden smiled back.

  “Oh, I don’t know. If we believe he killed his former wife—poison. Or maybe in a car accident, if we believe those rumors. He just seems way too sneaky to do something as straightforward as shooting someone himself.”

  “If not Howard, then who else?”

  “Clearly, the psychopath brother has to be a candidate, but you know, it’s still possible it’s someone we don’t know.”

  “I suppose, but if you believe all the true crime shows, you’re more likely to be killed by one of your loved ones.”

  Scooter came over and put his front paws on Aiden’s leg. He scooped the dog up with one hand and deposited him absently onto his lap.

  “By all accounts, there wasn’t much love to be had in that family.”

  “I just had a thought,” Harriet said. “With the three wives we know about and the mix of half- and step-siblings, I wonder if there’s an additional wife or kids we don’t know about. There may be people who have either been driven away or escaped.

  “I need to go check on Sarah again anyway. Maybe, if she’s stronger, I can see if she knows. If Seth has always been the favored son, maybe there’s a resentful sibling out there.”

  “I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one.”

  “Have you got a better idea?”

  He pressed his lips together.

  “Hmmm, nothing really comes to mind, other than maybe letting the police handle this one.”

  “And let Howard railroad Sarah?”

  “You don’t even know he’s doing that. I mean, I’m sure the folks at the senior center are wonderful people, but they’re not the police, either. It might all be in their collective imagination.”

  “You’re right. I need to talk to Detective Morse.”

  Aiden closed his eyes as if struggling for strength.

  “You are impossible.”

  Harriet grinned. “Yeah, but that’s why you like me.”

  Harriet went directly to the big room in the back of Tico’s Tacos. Aunt Beth had called to say she’d rounded up as many of the Loose Threads as she could, and that Jorge was fixing a special dinner for the group.

  “Is that garlic bread I smell?” she asked her aunt.

  Beth was already seated at the big table.

  “Jorge had a craving for Italian food tonight, so he made us spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “You ladies are my trial,” Jorge said as he came into the room with an antipasto platter arranged with slices of hard salami, cheese, and marinated artichoke hearts, sun-dried tomatoes and olives. “Depending on your reaction, I’m thinking I might have an international cuisine night once a month.”

  “I vote yes,” Lauren said as she arrived. “We need a little more variety in this town.” She turned to Harriet. “Do you have time to stitch on my quilt for the shelter? I finished the top this afternoon. Hopefully, they’re not expecting fine art. This one’s fairly simple.”

  “Simple and done is what they need,” Aunt Beth told her. “I’m sure anything you made is going to look nice enough.”

  Lauren smiled at her.

  “I guess.”

  “Do I smell—” DeAnn started.

  “Garlic bread,” Harriet finished for her. “Jorge’s experimenting on us.”

  DeAnn sat down opposite Harriet and her aunt.

  “Sounds good to me, I’m starving. I worked on my quilt for the shelter while the boys were at school and Kissa was at her play group. I think she looks forward to seeing Wendy there.”

  “It’s wonderful that she’s adjusted so well since you adopted her,” Beth said.

  Mavis and Connie came in, followed a few minutes later by Carla and then Robin. When the last two were seated at the table and Jorge had placed pitchers of iced tea and water on the table, Beth picked her flip chart up and set it in front of her place.

  “Let’s get started before Jorge starts delivering food.”

  Harriet stood up beside her aunt.

  “It’ll be easier if I just make notes on the chart of what I’ve learned this afternoon.” She flipped pages until she came to a blank. She wrote Howard, Joshua and then a question mark across the top. Then, she wrote what Aiden told her Hannah had said about Joshua under his name and what Joshua had said about his stepdad under Howard’s. Under the question mark, she wrote “possible other wives and children.”

  Lauren pointed to the last column.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “When I was talking to Aiden today it occurred to me that, with the three wives and tangled collection of children and stepchildren Howard has had, it’s possible there are more.”

  Lauren thought about that for a moment.

  “I suppose that’s possible, but given the ages of the children we know about, and the fact that he was married to all their mothers when they were born, it would be hard for him to have squeezed anyone else in. I’ll dig around on the Internet and see what I can find.”

  Robin tilted her chair back.

  “So, Joshua thinks Howard did it, and Hannah thinks it was Joshua. I wonder who Sarah suspects.”

  Mavis took a sip of her tea.

  “Another way to look at it is who was abusing whom. Howard abused Joshua, may have killed his second wife, and, at the very least, has Sarah’s mother cowed, but he’s probably abusing her as well. Seth was abusing Sarah. I wonder if Howard was also beating Sarah.”

  “I’ll ask Aiden to pay attention to Hannah and see if he thinks she’s being abused. From what Georgia at the shelter told us, domestic violence tends to spread in a family.”

  Lauren pulled out her smartphone and keyed the notepad app.

  “I think I’ll do a little digging and see what happened to Seth’s mother. No one has mentioned her. It would be interesting to see if she’s dead or alive.”

  Carla twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

  “If Seth’s mother is dead under suspicious circumstances, would that move How
ard to the top of the list?”

  “Diós mio,” Connie said. “If she’s dead, too, it could make Howard a serial killer.”

  “Let’s stick with what we know for sure,” Robin cautioned.

  Harriet rested her elbow on the table and her chin on her fist.

  “We’re missing something here, something big. We’ve got all sorts of clues indicating that Howard is a bad guy. If we believe Joshua—and I have to say what Lauren and I saw makes me inclined to believe him—Howard is cutting the drugs prescribed for the residents of the senior center then selling the excess on the Internet. Joshua says he’s defrauding Medicare and Medicaid, also.

  “Janice was investigating him for the murder of his second wife, and we’ve heard it suggested that Seth’s mother was his first wife and she, too, died under mysterious circumstances. What we haven’t heard is any real reason Howard would want Seth dead.”

  Lauren tapped the fingers of her right hand on the table.

  “You know, to a lesser degree, the same could be said about Joshua. We’ve heard he’s a psychopath and that he is, at the very least, on probation for some unspecified crime. He says he hates Howard and believes the man killed his mom—but again, no Seth tie-in.”

  “Hannah did say Joshua resented Seth for being the favored son.” Harriet reminded her.

  Lauren gave her a sarcastic look.

  “Really? So he kills his brother because he got better toys when they were growing up?”

  Aunt Beth smiled. “She’s right, honey. That’s not much of a motive for murder.”

  Harriet sat down as Jorge entered, setting baskets of garlic bread at each end of the table. She picked up a piece of the bread and used it to point at the flip chart.

  “We need to find information—different information. We’ve established that Howard is probably a criminal, so we don’t need more corroborating evidence of that. Same with Joshua. We need a motive for one of them or, failing that, someone else to commit murder.” She bit into her bread.

  “What about Janice?” DeAnn asked. “Could she be more than she seems?”

  Lauren laughed. “Anyone could be. Janice could be lying about her memory loss. She could have been lying about her investigation of Howard. We could pick a name out of a hat.”

  Harriet accepted a glass of water from Jorge’s waitress and took a sip.

  “Maybe we’re going about this wrong. Maybe what we need is more information about Seth. Why would anyone want him dead?”

  “What are you thinking, honey?” Aunt Beth asked.

  “We need to talk to Sarah again and maybe Joshua and Hannah. Maybe one of them would have an idea why he’d be a target. We’ve established he was abusive to Sarah, and that gives her a motive, but we need to find out who else might have wanted him dead.”

  “I could go talk to Sarah’s mother,” Beth offered. “Maybe I can get her to go out to tea. I may have to offer more bibs or lap quilts or something, but I think she’ll go for it. Connie, maybe you can go with me, since you’ve had interactions with her, too. She probably won’t confess if she killed him herself, but maybe she can tell us if Seth had conflicts with anyone else.”

  “Good idea,” Mavis said. “My son went to school with the medical examiner’s little brother. I could go see what she can tell me about Howard’s first and second wives’ deaths. I know that doesn’t tell us anything about motives for killing Seth, but it could help us sort out who is lying to us and who isn’t.”

  Robin wrote a note about the medical examiner at the bottom of the flip chart page.

  “I think anything we can learn can’t hurt,” she said as she wrote.

  Lauren pulled a stylus from the back of her smartphone case and tapped the face of her phone.

  “I’m going to get some of my geek buddies working on Joshua and his criminal troubles. There’s something fishy going on there.”

  Jorge had been making trips between the kitchen and the private dining room, carrying a big bowl of salad one time and a dish of grated Parmesan the next. He finally brought a large platter of spaghetti and meatballs and set it on the table.

  “Has everyone got what they want to drink?” He looked around the table. The women nodded in assent. “I’d like to say one thing, and then I’ll keep my mouth shut.” He paused to see if anyone objected then continued. “You need to talk to Detective Morse about your suspicions and let her handle it. It’s her job. She’s probably already interviewed the mother. Now, please enjoy your dinner.”

  Beth smiled at him.

  “Can you sit and eat with us?”

  “I think I can join you for a few minutes, if the rest of the group agrees.”

  “Of course we want you,” Robin said. “We need someone to help keep us grounded—and if I keep eating here, I’ll be grounded in more ways than one.”

  Jorge smiled as he pulled out a chair and sat down beside Aunt Beth.

  “Let’s eat,” he said

  Chapter 20

  “Words can’t express how happy I am to have a car again,” Aunt Beth told Harriet and Mavis as she slid into a chair at Harriet’s kitchen table. “Would you like to come out and look at it?”

  Lauren came in from Harriet’s studio.

  “I’m sure it’s the most wonderful car ever made, but can we have some coffee first?”

  “Of course. Have a seat—she doesn’t really expect anyone here is going to pass up our coffee and muffins to look at her new car. I brewed yours when I heard you drive up.”

  Beth poured a dollop of half-and-half into her cup and stirred it.

  “I still can’t get used to the fact that my current car costs more than my first house, and I don’t even have a luxury car.”

  Mavis took a muffin from a platter in the middle of the table and peeled the paper off before setting in on the small plate in front of her and then passed the plate to Lauren.

  “I try not to think about it.”

  Lauren took a muffin and removed its paper. She blew across the top of her coffee mug and finally took a sip.

  “This is surprisingly good,” she said and set her cup down. “I wouldn’t have guessed your new pod machine would be as good as your old Mr. Coffee.”

  She took another sip.

  “It’s taken a few days, but one of my guys has finally taken a peek at Joshua’s criminal record. Or, I should say, lack of record.”

  “What are you talking about?” Harriet asked.

  “The guys had to do some digging, but the only thing on Joshua Pratt’s record is a footnote that he participated in a scared-straight program at the Foggy Point Police Department. It was a really special program.”

  “Let me guess,” Harriet interrupted. “There was only one participant.”

  “Give the girl a Kewpie doll. There is no record of anyone else ever taking part in any program like that. For that matter, Foggy Point PD has never done anything of the sort before or since.”

  Aunt Beth broke off a bite of muffin and popped it in her mouth.

  “So, the rumors about Howard Pratt having half the town in his back pocket are no exaggeration.”

  “That’s so evil,” Harriet said in amazement. “He’s had Joshua wearing an ankle bracelet tracking his every move for years.”

  Lauren took a muffin from the platter.

  “I’m not saying I believe this, but just to play devils’ advocate, maybe it’s like that serial killer show on TV. If Joshua is a psychopath, maybe Howard is doing him a favor. By making him think his every move is being watched, Joshua won’t kill animals, much less move on to people.”

  Harriet sipped her coffee and studied Lauren.

  “You’re serious? You think Howard is the good guy here?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m just saying maybe he’s the lesser of two evils.”

  “None of this helps us narrow down our suspect list,” Mavis observed. “I’ve got an appointment with the medical examiner tomorrow, so I can’t add anything at this point.”

&nbs
p; Beth took another bite of her muffin and chewed.

  “I have nothing new yet, either. I’m taking some bibs to Sarah’s mother this afternoon, so hopefully, I can learn something.”

  Harriet tapped her spoon on the table beside her cup.

  “I still say we’re missing something.” A knock on the studio door interrupted her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Detective Morse stood on the porch, a folded quilt top clutched to her chest.

  “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting. Do you have a minute, or should I come back later?”

  “No, come in. My aunt and Mavis and Lauren are just here having coffee. Do you have time to join us?”

  “That sounds great. Can I show you my project first?

  “I’ve been working on this quilt for my niece’s wedding this summer, and then they decided to save some money and elope. They get back from their honeymoon next week, and my stepsister is throwing together a reception.”

  She set her quilt top on Harriet’s large cutting table and turned back the corner. She had made a traditional double-wedding-ring pattern in pastel colors.

  “I was hoping you might be able to quilt it for me. I realize this is short notice, and I completely understand if you can’t do it.” She stopped talking and looked hopefully at Harriet.

  “What were you thinking for a stitch pattern?”

  “I was thinking whatever you can do in time for the reception.”

  Harriet spread the top flatter on the table, unfolding more of the fabric as she did.

  “If you had a choice, what would you want?”

  “Something simple—I’d like them to actually be able to use it. I don’t want it so dense it won’t drape.”

  “This is your lucky day. I finally finished the show quilt I’ve been working on for what seems like forever. I’ve had that thing on and off my machine at least four times. The woman kept changing her mind and adding more stitching, and the sad thing is, it still probably doesn’t have enough stitch density to win in a major show. So, yes, as long as we can keep it simple, I can do your quilt.”

  “Oh, thank you. Do you still have that wide muslin available?” Morse meant the extra-wide fabric that was sold in off-white cotton and other basic finishes for the purpose of providing a seam-free back for large quilts.