The 12 Quilts of Christmas Read online

  “Do you think he likes his present?” Harriet asked when they were back in the kitchen.

  James put his hands on her shoulders and rubbed the tension from her neck as she poured juice into her glass.

  “I think ‘like it’ is an understatement. He’s hardly taken his hands off it since he opened it.”

  Harriet turned into his arms.

  “Did you notice he’s wearing his boots? I wouldn’t embarrass him by asking, but I wonder if he wore them to bed?”

  “I slept with my first baseball glove for about a week, I think.”

  “I don’t think I ever slept with anything, but I did sleep in the manger at boarding school one Christmas. I guess I was researching the whole Mary-and-Joseph thing. I didn’t think you really could sleep in a barn.”

  James laughed. “How did it go?”

  “Better than you might imagine. I curled up with our school milk cow. It was nice and warm. It was a little gross when she decided to lick my head, but otherwise, not bad.”

  “No wonder you dreamed you were sleeping in the horse barn. It wasn’t a dream, it was a memory.”

  Harriet was in the kitchen rinsing her cinnamon roll plate when the phone rang.

  “Merry Christmas,” she answered it.

  “Aren’t you just the cheery one,” Lauren said.

  “It’s Christmas, what’s not to be cheery about?”

  “Oh, you have no idea, but enough about me. I’m calling about Vern.”

  “Vern, like Outdoor Store Vern?”

  “Yes. When I got up this morning, there was a message on my phone from Vern. Unfortunately, it was garbled, like he was getting really poor reception. I have no idea what he might have wanted from me in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.”

  “I didn’t know you guys were friends.”

  “That’s my point. We’re not friends. I made him a quilt. I’ve shopped in his store. That’s it.”

  “That is mysterious.”

  “That’s all you have to say? ‘It’s mysterious?”

  “What were you looking for?”

  “I’m hoping you want to go with me to check on him.”

  “I have to be at my aunt’s in a couple of hours, and you don’t have anything but a garbled message as a starting point.”

  “Given what’s been happening downtown, I would feel better if we at least checked his store.”

  “By we, are you asking me to go with?”

  The phone was silent.

  Harriet sighed.

  “Let me see if James is okay with this.”

  “Call me back.”

  Harriet hung up and went back to the living room. Luke was still putting his computer through its paces while James looked on. She cleared her throat, and James looked up.

  “Could you two do without me for a half-hour or so?” She explained her phone call from Lauren. “I’m pretty sure Vern is at home, or with his family, and he probably pocket-dialed Lauren by accident; but she’s not going to relax and enjoy her day until we go by his shop and confirm it’s closed up tight.”

  James came over and took both her hands in his.

  “Do you promise that if you find anything but a closed-up dark shop you’ll drive away and call Detective Morse on your way home?”

  “Of course, but that’s not going to happen. We’re going to meet out front, admire Lauren’s quilt in the window, get back in our cars, and return to our holiday celebrations.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?” Luke asked without looking away from his computer screen.

  Harriet smiled. “That’s really sweet of you, but there’s no need for you guys to spoil your Christmas because of Lauren’s paranoia. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  James followed her to the kitchen, where she collected her down jacket and wool scarf. He reached into the closet and got her purse from its hook and handed it to her. He kissed her.

  “Promise me you’ll be careful.”

  “Don’t worry.”

  CHAPTER 29

  “How’s your Christmas going so far?” Harriet asked as she slid into the passenger seat of Lauren’s car.

  Lauren put the car in gear and headed down the driveway then toward downtown Foggy Point.

  “Any year I can stay out of the line of fire between my parents and my brother, it’s good. And before you ask, they have long-term issues which will probably never be solved. I count it as a win that we’ve finally reached the point we can spend the holidays together. How about you?”

  “James’s dad is trying hard to win Luke over, and it’s working. He gave him cowboy boots for Christmas, and they were a big hit.”

  “Nice. How does James feel about that?”

  “He’s good. He wants his dad and Luke to bond. And he understands his dad will probably never get over his rejection of a pro baseball career.”

  “On the subject at hand. I really do hope I’m taking you on a wild goose chase. It’s just weird for him to call me.”

  “I’m sure you’ve considered the possibility of a pocket call.”

  “I have, but I rejected that because of the timing. I could buy a pocket call at three in the afternoon, but not in the middle of the night.”

  The streets of Foggy Point were empty, and Lauren was able to park in front of The Outdoor Store. She peered in the big front window where her quilt was displayed while Harriet went to the door and pressed the tab on the handle.

  “Uh-oh,” she said and turned to look at Lauren.

  “Uh-oh what?”

  “Ummm, the door isn’t locked.”

  “So, he’s open for business.” Lauren started to push past her, but Harriet grabbed her arm.

  “I promised James we’d call Morse if the shop was anything but locked up tight.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “No, I’m not. Three people are dead. Two of them in this very downtown. And I’ve had my own encounter with whoever is doing all this, and it’s an experience I don’t want to repeat.”

  Lauren gave a dramatic sigh and pulled her phone from her pocket. She dialed Morse’s private number and had a brief conversation before ending the call.

  “She’ll be here in a few minutes. She agrees we shouldn’t go in.”

  “Did you expect anything else from her?”

  Lauren laughed.

  “I guess not.”

  Morse parked behind Lauren at the curb and got out, zipping her coat as she came to join them at the open door of the Outdoor Store.

  “Don’t you two ever take a day off?” she grumbled. “I left a perfectly good plate of eggs Benedict on the table.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lauren said. “I wanted to go in and check things out myself, but Harriet had promised James we’d call you if anything was out of place.”

  Morse shook her head.

  “Don’t even try to tell me this is James’ fault. So, what’s going on? Why do you think it’s anything but Vern forgetting to lock his door when he went home after what was probably his busiest day of the year.”

  Harriet shuffled her feet.

  “When you say it that way…”

  “I’m worried,” Lauren said. “Vern called me in the middle of the night, and when I answered, the line went dead. I’ve been trying to get hold of him ever since with no answer. Maybe it was a pocket dial, like Harriet thinks, but we came here to reassure ourselves and found the door unlocked.”

  Morse sighed.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. It is a coincidence, and I don’t like coincidences. Not that it’s an excuse, but at the PD we’ve all been on overtime trying to solve these murders; and so far, we aren’t getting anywhere.” She took her gun from its holster. “Wait here while I check it out.”

  She returned a few minutes later.

  “You can come in, but don’t touch anything.” She held the door open for them to enter. “His desk chair is tipped over, and the door to the basement is open, but I don’t know if that’s normal or not.” />
  Lauren looked toward the back of the store.

  “I’ve never seen it open before.”

  “Can we go down there?” Harriet asked.

  “I checked it out, but go ahead.”

  Harriet went across the store and down the stairs.

  “Vern, are you down here?” she called out, and then stood in the dark basement and listened.

  “Did you hear something?” Lauren asked, having followed Harriet down the stairs.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Vern?” Lauren called in a loud voice.

  There was a faint thumping noise.

  “Jane?” Harriet called up the stairs. “I think we may have something.”

  Lauren turned on the flashlight function on her phone and shone the light on the wall at the foot of the stairs.

  “Try the ceiling,” Harriet suggested.

  Lauren did as directed and found a string hanging from a socket on a ceiling beam. Harriet pulled the string and illuminated the cluttered room. Jane came down the stairs, and Harriet held her hand up before she could speak.

  “Vern!” Lauren called again.

  A faint thumping noise sounded. Shelving covered all the walls, and additional storage cabinets stood back-to-back in the middle of the room next to a large workbench. Dust coated every surface.

  “It sounds like its coming from the walls.”

  Morse scanned the room.

  “This can’t be all there is to the basement. The shop is huge, and the rest of the shops we’ve been in have full basements.”

  “Vern!” Harriet shouted, and then listened intently. Once again, they heard thumping in response.

  Harriet stepped toward the noise, facing a shelf full of paint cans. She ran her hands lightly along the two sides of the shelf.

  “What are you doing?” Lauren asked as she joined her in front of the shelf.

  “Look at the floor.”

  Morse had also come over, and bent down to examine the scrapes in the dust Harriet was pointing to. Harriet continued her examination of the shelf.

  “This shelf swings away from the wall. We just need to find the latching mechanism.”

  Her hand found a curved piece of metal on the back of the middle shelf. It was attached to a spring. She pulled, and at first nothing happened; but then something released, and the shelf moved ever so slightly. Morse grabbed the opposite edge of the unit and pulled it forward. A disheveled-looking Vern Jenkins tumbled out through the opening, nearly knocking her over.

  “Oh, thank heaven,” he gasped. “I’ve got to call my wife.”

  He bolted for the stairs before anyone could stop him. Morse followed him while Harriet and Lauren started through the opening behind the shelving, but then Harriet stepped back out and found a loose two-by-four segment. She wedged it in the opening in case the shelf decided to close on its own.

  “Look at this place,” Lauren exclaimed when Harriet had returned. She was standing behind a carved mahogany bar. A large mirror covered the wall behind the bar, with the rest of the walls covered in heavy drapes. Seating groups featuring Art-Deco sofas and chairs, and stylized tables were scattered about the room.

  “It’s a blind pig.” Harriet moved to the bar, where a used plate and cup sat beside a half-full glass of amber liquid.

  “A blind what?”

  “It’s a speakeasy. Or it was during Prohibition. Look at the furniture. Classic nineteen-twenties.”

  “It’s like a museum.”

  “When alcohol became legal again, they didn’t need it anymore. This building used to be a pancake house when I was growing up. I’ll bet it was a bar before that.”

  “Someone knew about this room.”

  Vern came back downstairs and entered the hidden room.

  “Sorry about that. I had to call my wife. As I expected, she was by turns worried, relieved, and then angry at my unexplained absence. I called her last night to say I was locking up and heading home and then…” He gestured. “…all this happened.”

  “So, what did happen?” Harriet asked him.

  Vern ran a hand over his thinning hair.

  “As I told my wife, I was at the register at the back of the store, closing it out for the day, going through my closing-up process. I heard the doorbell chime and came around the counter, where I discovered a tall, thin figure dressed in black. He or she had on a black balaclava with full-face coverage. They held a little electronic contraption in their hand. It turned out to be a voice distortion thing.”

  He reached for the glass of liquid on the bar and took a sip. He gave them a sheepish grin and held the glass up.

  “One of the perks of owning a former speakeasy. Anyway—and I’m saying ‘he’ only for simplicity, as I truly have no idea of the gender here—he pulled an ugly little gun from a pocket and gestured at me with it, indicating I should go downstairs. We came down, and when he saw a length of rope on one of the shelves, he said, ‘Perfect, you’ll be another hanging’.

  “I said, ‘This rope is too old. If I’m going to hang, I don’t want it to break halfway through.’ I indicated I had a new coil of rope on the back shelf. He gestured for me to go get it, and as you can guess, I opened the speakeasy door and slid inside, locking it behind me. I just barely made it inside in time, and I guess I slammed the door hard, jamming the lock.”

  Morse was scribbling in her little notebook. She looked up at Vern when he’d finished speaking.

  “That must have frustrated your would-be assailant.”

  Vern smiled.

  “I could hear him pounding on the shelves, but that door was built to keep the Untouchables out. A skinny person in a balaclava wasn’t going to be able to break it.”

  Harriet shook her head.

  “You were really lucky” She paused, studying the floor. “Did anything about your assailant seem familiar? I know the voice was distorted, but was there anything?”

  Vern thought a moment.

  “I had a lot of time to think while I was locked in here. There was something familiar about the figure. I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

  Morse ran a hand through her close-cropped hair. She looked like she’d aged years in the last few weeks.

  “Do you have anywhere you can go away from Foggy Point? I don’t want to scare you, but I think whoever tried to kill you won’t give up. Our department doesn’t have the means to maintain a safe house to protect you and your wife, so your option is either the Foggy Point Motel or the jail.”

  Lauren chuckled. “Choose the jail.”

  Vern thought for a moment.

  “Our daughter lives in Portland. They’re at her in-laws today, then they were going to come here. We could go there instead. Would that work?”

  “Yes. We’ll provide transportation. Call your wife and ask her to throw a few things together for both of you. I’ll have an unmarked pick her up and bring her to the station. We need to take your statement, then someone will take you to your daughter’s. We’ll talk to the Portland police and get them to keep an eye on you.”

  “Will that be safe?” Harriet asked Morse while Vern stood at the top of the stairs calling Mrs. Vern.

  Morse shook her head.

  “I wish I could do better for them, but I do think our killer is centered on Foggy Point. I don’t think he or she is going to go far. And no, I have no reason to think that other than a feeling. I am going to ask Portland to have an officer stay outside their house.”

  “Will they do that?” Harriet asked.

  “All I can do is ask.”

  Harriet stared at Morse, not sure if this was the right time for what she was going to say next.

  “What?” Morse finally said.

  “This is a little anticlimactic after all this, but in the spirit of full disclosure…”

  “For crying out loud, spit it out while there is still some hope of me getting home before dinner.”

  “There’s a gray sedan that seems to be following me around. I haven’t
said anything because they don’t seem to be doing anything else.”

  “Yet,” Morse said, anger in her voice. “They aren’t doing anything else yet.” She shook her head, turned her back on them, and went to her car, driving off a moment later.

  “That went well,” Lauren said with a grin.

  CHAPTER 30

  James met Harriet in the kitchen when she returned.

  “Is Vern okay?”

  She shrugged out of her coat, and James hung it in the closet with her scarf and purse.

  “He is. He had a bit of a rough night, but lucky for him his store came with a speakeasy hidden in the basement. One with a strong lock.”

  “Really?”

  “I’ll tell you all about it later. How’s Luke doing?”

  James pulled her into his arms.

  “Judging by how long he’s been talking to the charming Miss Emily, I’d say he’s doing just fine.”

  “So, you guys didn’t miss me?”

  He kissed her.

  “We were counting the seconds until your return.” He laughed. “Or at least I was.”

  She smiled. This marriage thing was okay.

  He took her hand and led her into the living room.

  “Do you have time to sit and have a cup of tea or cocoa before we have to get ready to go to Beth’s?”

  Harriet glanced at the grandfather clock across the room.

  “I would love a cup of cocoa.”

  “I will be right back.”

  She sat in a wing-back chair next to the fireplace. Luke was curled up on the end of the leather Chesterfield sofa, two dogs tangled in the afghan at his feet and the cat peering over his shoulder from the back of the sofa. Fred appeared to be reading along with Luke as he studied his new book on horse care. He looked up as Harriet sat down.

  “How was Vern? James said you went to check on him.”

  “It turns out he’s fine, if a little worse for the wear. He spent the night locked in an old speakeasy that’s hidden in the basement of his shop.”

  “What’s a speakeasy?”

  “Back in the days when alcohol was illegal, people created secret bars and sold bootleg liquor. Vern discovered there was one in his basement that’s been pretty much untouched since Prohibition.”