Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) (13 page)

“I suppose they think I supplied her with the drugs. They don’t know yet what she OD’d on. If it turns out to be something we don’t stock, it will help, but that’s not proof I didn’t give her whatever it was.”

Mavis reached across Harriet and patted his hand.

“Oh, honey, is there anything we can do for you?”

Aiden attempted a laugh.

“Yeah. Find out how Marine got into my apartment and what she died from. Oh, and if you can, find the person who called and asked me to come take care of their dog.”

Mavis pulled her hand back.

“I’m sure this will all be cleared up by tomorrow. Speaking of which, I better go home so I can get ready for class. I’ve got to sort out my ribbons and threads now that I know what my block looks like.”

Connie stood up.

“I better go make sure Carla and Wendy get settled in. Aiden, you let Rod and me know if there’s anything we can do for you.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that.”

“Come on, mi’jo,” Jorge said. “Let’s get you to my place.” He looked at Beth. “Can you take my truck home? I’ll get it from you tomorrow. I’d like to ride with Aiden.” He dug keys from his pocket and handed them to her.

Harriet looked at her aunt with eyebrow raised once no one but the three of them was left at the big table. Beth blushed.

“Jorge and I were cooking at his house.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Harriet said with a wicked smile.

Lauren drained the dregs of her tea and set her mug on the table.

“What Harriet is trying to say is ‘good for you.’ Now, what are we going to do for Aiden?”

“We need to wait and see what the police have to say tomorrow,” Beth said.

Harriet shook her head.

“I’m with Lauren. I don’t trust the Foggy Point police. If they questioned Aiden for as long as they did, they aren’t thinking he’s an innocent bystander. We need to go to the homeless camp and talk to Joyce Elias. Nothing goes on at that camp she doesn’t know about. If someone had a dog, and it got hurt, she’ll be able to tell us.”

Lauren smiled. “Now you’re talking. When do you want to go?”

Aunt Beth stood and collected her empty mug and the half-empty plate of churros.

“We have enough time during lunch to drive over there. We could call in an order of sandwiches from the Sandwich Board during our morning break and pick them up on the way to the park.”

Harriet picked up several empty mugs.

“Works for me.” She turned and headed for the kitchen.

“I’m going up to collect my roommate,” Lauren told them and headed for the staircase.

“Your roommate is here,” Jessica said from the kitchen. “And count me in on the lunch adventure.” She looked from Lauren to Harriet. “I was already in the kitchen, and I heard you make the plan. I might be able to help—you never know. Homeless, drunks, addicts…those are my peeps.”

“I really appreciate your help,” Harriet said. She did appreciate all her friends’ help, but right now all she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and pull the covers over her head. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at class.”

Chapter 14

Harriet took the white shopping bag from the counter at the Sandwich Board and handed it to Lauren. She took the second bag herself, supporting the bottom with her free hand.

Lauren hefted her bag up and down.

“I guess your aunt thought we were going to be real hungry today.”

“She asked if the Sandwich Board would go halfsies with her on lunch for the homeless people. They agreed, so we’re delivering lunch to the whole camp.”

“That was generous.”

“Aunt Beth is like that. Besides, Mavis and Connie probably split the cost with her. I’ll ask. Am I hearing you offering to donate?”

Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I will if you will.”

Harriet led the way to the door.

“Aunt Beth will be happy we’re both giving to her favorite cause. She and Jorge have been regular volunteers at the camp since the big storm last winter. She keeps trying to talk Joyce into moving indoors. Joyce keeps politely telling her she’s happy outside.”

The rear passenger door to Harriet’s car swung open as they approached it.

“Here, let me take that,” Aunt Beth said from the middle row of seats. She leaned out and took the bag of food from Harriet. Lauren opened the opposite side door and climbed in with her sack.

“I hope Joyce can tell us who the dog owner is,” Harriet said as she guided her car back onto the road.

Lauren buckled her seat belt.

“I think we’re borrowing trouble. Marine obviously overdosed. That had nothing to do with Aiden, so what does it matter where he was yesterday morning?”

“I wish I had your confidence,” Harriet told her.

Jessica leaned forward from her perch in the third row of seats.

“I hate to be a pessimist, but I’ve been thinking about it, and if Marine was such an obvious OD, it doesn’t seem like they would have been so interested in whether Aiden had an alibi or not.”

Harriet tapped her fingers on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know why, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

It took a few minutes to get everyone out after they arrived in the parking lot at Fogg Park.

“The camp is down the trail behind the restrooms,” Harriet told Jessica. “I’ll go make sure they’re home.”

She returned a few minutes later followed by a petite white-haired woman wearing tidy blue jeans and a plaid flannel shirt topped by a dark-green fleece jacket who smiled when she saw Mavis and Beth.

“How nice to see you again,” she said, clasping Aunt Beth’s hand in greeting. She looked at Jessica and extended a hand to her. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Joyce Elias.”

There was a hint of the British Isles in her voice. The smile that creased her face was echoed in the lines around her bright blue eyes.

Lauren raised her white paper bag.

“We brought you lunch.”

“That’s so good of you, dear. Shall I go get the others?”

“We brought enough to feed a small army,” Lauren answered.

“You know where our dining room is,” Joyce said with a chuckle.

Indeed, they did. Most of the Loose Threads had spent time volunteering in one capacity or the other at the camp, helping clear away dropped branches after storms or spreading fresh bark mulch or gravel on the trails that would otherwise be slick with mud. The Threads also provided flannel rag quilts for the residents so they could stay warm in the winter.

Harriet led the way down the trail, stopping in a large clearing.

“Wow, did Tom Bainbridge make you a new table?”

The previous table had been a piece of plywood balanced on mismatched legs. The new one was large and sturdy, with shelves and two deep drawers with locks. It was painted a green that blended with the colors of the forest and looked to be waterproof, if the beaded liquid on the surface was any indication. Three matching benches were arrayed around the clearing.

“Tom has been a good friend to our camp,” Joyce told them. “Thanks to him, we have secure lockable boxes to keep our personal possessions in. He chained them to trees, so no one can haul them off without cutting the trees down. But enough about us. What is it that brings you to the camp today? Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate the food, but I can see you aren’t dressed for a work day.”

Several more camp residents edged into the clearing as Harriet and her aunt looked at each other. Finally Harriet spoke.

“I think you know. Aiden took a call from someone who said he lived at the camp here. The guy said his dog had been hit by a car and was gravely injured. Aiden came to help and couldn’t find them.”

Joyce looked thoughtful, staring at her feet for a moment.

“I did talk to Aiden. I told him no one has been here lately with a dog.”

“Jimmy,” one of the other camp residents grunted.

“It’s true enough that Jimmy has a dog, but Jimmy’s daughter took him away two weeks ago.” She turned to Harriet. “His girl takes him for a month once or twice a year; takes him to the doctor and dentist and such. He and his dog stay for a while, and then one day she’ll leave him alone and next thing you know, he and his dog are back here. It would be unlikely it was him, but I suppose it’s possible.”

Harriet was silent while Aunt Beth and Mavis unpacked the lunch bags. Joyce took her foil-wrapped sandwich and set it in her lap.

“What is it you aren’t telling me? Kind as you are, I know you didn’t come because you’re worried about a dog.”

“You’re right,” Harriet said. “Aiden came home from looking for the man and his dog and found a woman who seems to have committed suicide in the living room of the apartment over the vet clinic where he was staying while the quilters are in town.”

“And you’re thinking it would be good if he had an alibi,” Joyce concluded.

Harriet’s shoulders sagged.

“Something like that.”

Lauren swallowed the bite of sandwich she’d been chewing.

“They took him to the police station to make a statement, but they kept him there for hours. We’re thinking that can’t be good, and if we could rustle up some proof he wasn’t around the apartment, it would help.”

“We did see him yesterday when he asked us about the dog, but then he was gone for more than an hour before he came back by.”

Joyce let the implications settle before she continued.

“I’ll ask the rest when they get back from doing their laundry,” she promised and then visibly brightened. “Do you have time to tell me about this quilt event you’re all going to?”

Jessica stood up once the Loose Threads had, each in turn, given their rendition of their crazy quilt classes.

“This camp is amazing. When I was still a nun, I worked with a number of homeless people, but none of them lived in such a nice community.”

“We’ve gotten a lot of help from the people of Foggy Point,” Joyce said and smiled. “Your friends here have done a lot for us, making quilts and tarps and bringing us nutritious food. Their friend Tom is quite a handyman, as you can see from all our outdoor furniture.”

Harriet crumpled her empty sandwich wrapper.

“What you’re seeing is the difference between big city and small town homelessness.” She smiled at Joyce. “We consider Joyce and the other people here an integral part of our community.”

“Joyce does volunteer work at the grade school with the reading program,” Connie added.

“I’m able to do that because here I don’t have to worry about the security of my belongings, and Robin convinced the city to add a bus stop near us and give us free passes so we don’t have to spend so much time walking in the weather.”

“That’s amazing,” Jessica told her.

Mavis checked her watch and looked around; everyone had finished their sandwich.

“We should probably head back,” she announced.

Harriet stood up.

“I’ll swing back by tomorrow and see if you learned anything.”

“I’ll look forward to your visit,” Joyce said. “We’ll go to the other side of the park and talk to the people camping there, too. Since we don’t condone drug and alcohol use in our community, those people tend to stay on the other side of the forest from us. Rest assured, we’ll find out who called your young man if he’s anywhere around here.”

“That’s all I can ask,” Harriet told her. “Thanks.”

“And thank you all for the wonderful lunch.”

With that, the quilters went back up the trail to Harriet’s car for the drive back to their classes.

Harriet carefully arranged her three class blocks in a flat plastic box then began gathering piles of ribbon and thread and sorting them into small plastic bags. Connie was doing the same at the table to her left.

“I feel like there’s hope after today’s class,” Harriet said.

“Me, too.” Connie finished packing her bags and began helping Harriet. “Have you heard from Aiden?”

“He texted me this afternoon and wants to meet for coffee or dinner. I told him I’d have to check our schedule here first. I know there isn’t a planned event tonight, but at afternoon break, Aunt Beth was organizing something with some of the out-of-town people.”

Connie put her arm around Harriet’s shoulders.

“Querida, I think everyone will understand if you need to be with that boy. He must be a wreck. He’s such a tender soul. He was all teared up the other day when Rod and I saw him after an animal had died at the clinic. I know that girl gave him a lot of grief in the past, but it must have been just awful for him, finding her like that.”

“You’re right. Originally, I was planning to quilt with Lainie this afternoon, but Michelle had Marcel pick up her kids and sent the nanny and tutor away so Aiden didn’t have to deal with a house full of people. I’ll have to check with Cookie to see what they think is happening.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll call Marcel, and if they were planning on Lainie being with you, I’ll go get her and take her home with me. Carla and I can work with her.”

“Won’t she be going to whatever event Aunt Beth is cooking up?”

“She’s planning on staying home with Wendy tonight.”

Harriet felt some of the tension leave her shoulders.

“Thank you so much. I’ll feel better when I can talk to Aiden without everyone around and see how he’s really doing. Even though he didn’t have anything to do with that woman, I know him—I’d guarantee he’s blaming himself.”