Read Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) Online

Authors: Arlene Sachitano

Tags: #FIC022040/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths, #FIC022070/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Cozy

Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) (23 page)

BOOK: Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8)
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“You know, honey,” Beth said, “you’re right. I remember Avanell saying something about that at the time.”

Carla looked down at her plate and blushed.

“Marine was born here,” Beth continued, “but her family probably spoke French at home because of the grandparents.”

“Do you know how to get hold of the tutor?” Harriet asked Carla.

“I don’t, but I’m pretty sure she’s still going over to Marcel’s and Cookie’s to give the kids their homework assignments, so they probably have her number.”

Robin wrote “talk to tutor” on her paper.

Connie raised her hand.

“I’m taking Lainie home tonight, I can ask Cookie then. I’ll call the tutor and see what she has to say.”

“We should talk to whichever relatives show up for the memorial service, too,” Robin said and wrote each of the relatives’ names down.

Lauren scraped her nearly empty plate with her fork.

“It’s possible the mom or siblings will know of other friends. We need to be prepared to grill them, too.”

“Too bad you don’t know who her dealer is,” Jessica said with a smirk. “That’s where I’d be looking for leads.”

Harriet picked up her teacup.

“Marine hasn’t been in town long enough to be in the kind of trouble that gets you killed. And she did seem to be either out of money or genuinely trying to kick her habit.”

Lauren looked at her.

“So, you think someone killed Marine to send a message to…who? Her mother? Her brother? If her mother wouldn’t let her live with her, would she be swayed by someone threatening to kill her daughter and then carrying out the threat?”

“No, it doesn’t fit,” Harriet agreed. “Marine’s family
isn’t
much to work with, but it’s almost all we’ve got.”

Morse had been sitting quietly while the conversation ran on.

“If you talk to her family, and it sounds like you will, be very careful. These are not your average Foggy Point neighbors. If they talk to you, they’ll be trying to figure what’s in it for them. Using people is a way of life for that type of people.

“Don’t talk to them alone, stay in pairs. And don’t let any of them talk you into going anywhere with them away from the church. Not even the college sister. She may be what she appears—the one that got away., but she might still feel allegiance to her family. Just be careful. And if you find out anything at all, call the police. Either me or one of the other detectives.”

“Yes, Mama,” Lauren said with a salute.

“I’m serious,” Morse said.

“We’ll be careful,” Harriet assured her. “I hope you can understand that we can’t just sit and do nothing.”

Morse sighed. “Unfortunately, I do. I know I sound like a broken record with you ladies, but you’ve been very lucky so far.”

Harriet crumpled her napkin and dropped it on her plate.

“If we don’t do anything, Aiden will go to jail for a crime he didn’t commit. I can’t live with that.”

“I’ll do everything I can to prevent that from happening,” Morse said. “In the meantime, I’ve got to go back to the station to do some research on my cold case.”

Connie stood up, too.

“I’d better get Lainie back to Marcel’s. I’ll get Wendy ready, too.”

Carla picked up her plate and started gathering the others in a stack.

“Wendy isn’t going to be happy when she finds out Lainie isn’t coming to Connie’s with us.”

Aunt Beth packed her stitching back in the small bag and dropped it into her purse. She pushed back from the table.

“Okay, then, I guess I’ll see you all tomorrow at the funeral.”

Chapter 23

Saturday dawned clear and sunny. Harriet walked Scooter to the end of the driveway and back before breakfast. It was a long walk, given his small size, but he was going to be in the house for a longer than normal stretch, given the funeral, the church’s cookie-and-coffee reception and then the gathering at Jorge’s restaurant. She would take him on another long walk before they left for the service.

Sharon was in the kitchen when they got back in the house.

“Who are you going to talk to at the funeral?” she asked.

“I’m going to attempt to talk to all of them. You never know which one of us any one of them will relate to, so several of us will have a go at them.”

“I’ll try to listen to all of them,” Sharon said. “Since I’m not from here, people will likely ignore me. I’ll wear minimal makeup, and I didn’t bring black pants; but I have gray pants and a gray sweater. I’ve had lots of practice from my modeling years. No one ever wants the models to talk. We’re the classic example of ‘be seen but not heard.’”

“I can’t believe anyone ignores you when you walk in a room.”

“They notice, but in the way you notice a new piece of furniture. They look and then comment about you to someone else, like you’re deaf, and then you’re just part of the background.”

Harriet dispensed pet food to Fred and Scooter.

“Interesting. I’d never thought about it, but now that you mention it, you don’t hear models talk very often.”

Sharon smiled. “Watch, you’ll see.”

“We should probably get to the church a half-hour early. Meantime, I’ve got to put a client’s quilt on my big machine and get started stitching.”

“Would it bother you if I worked on my blocks while you’re doing that?”

Harriet smiled. “Not at all. I’ll enjoy the company.”

The Loose Threads gathered in the foyer of the Methodist church thirty minutes before the service was to begin. Beth entered carrying a large vase of flowers.

“Harriet, will you unload the rest of the flowers? I parked right in front.” She set her vase on a large table to the right of the double doors that opened into the sanctuary. Someone else had placed a sign-in book on the same table.

“Sure, how much have you got?”

“There are two big baskets that go on either side up front and a long flat piece that goes on the table in front of the choir area. And a small arrangement that goes by the piano.”

Lauren came over.

“I’ll help. I’m surprised they were able to rustle up the choir on such short notice.”

Beth turned to her. “It’s not the full choir. Several of the Small Stitches sing, so they volunteered. And Glynnis’s youngest daughter is a soloist, so she’s going to do a few songs. Mavis’s hairdresser plays piano, and he’s going to come from Angel Harbor,” She paused. “I think it’s going to be a nice service.”

Harriet didn’t know what to say to that. It would have helped Marine more if all these people had taken this much interest in her when she was alive. Still, she had to admit, if she’d known her before and knew she was involved in drugs, she would have thought twice before attempting to help her. She decided she’d have to reflect on that a little more when she was back at home.

Sharon helped carry flowers in, too, and when they brought them into the sanctuary, they found Jessica helping a woman Harriet didn’t know attach large black bows to the end of each pew.

Lauren moved up behind Harriet.

“Okay, the bows are a bit over the top, if you ask me.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about how much effort we’re putting out for Marine now that she’s dead. You wonder what would have happened if the same amount of attention had been paid to her when she was still alive.”

Jessica was close enough to hear the last comment.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference. Probably. When people are fighting an addiction, they have to want to change. Usually as a result of hitting bottom. Only when they themselves get so tired of being an addict that they’re willing to do the work will they get better.”

“Do you think she might have been trying to set Aiden up herself? Could she have been trying to do some sort of ‘if you don’t help me, I’ll kill myself’ scam?” Lauren asked Jessica.

“I suppose it’s possible.”

Harriet moved a couple of the flowers in the basket to the right of the podium.

“Aiden says he hadn’t talked to Marine. If she were going to do something like that, it seems like she would have talked to him.” She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them. “It’s just so impossible. Aiden is going to end up in jail for something he had nothing to do with, and we’re never going to know why.”

“Come on,” Lauren said and led the way back to the foyer. “We’ll figure it out. We’re missing something, but her family is going to reveal something to us that will get us on the right path.”

“They better.”

“Oh, my goodness,” Jessica said and pointed to the parking area through the front window, effectively cutting off Harriet’s negative spiral downward. “Lainie is coming to the funeral.”

Lauren looked out the window, too.

“That’s Michelle for you. She probably didn’t want to come alone, so she brought the kids—never mind how stressful it might be for them.”

Aunt Beth and Mavis came back into the foyer from the office hallway.

“Let’s go ahead in and save a couple of pews for the rest of our group.”

Mr. Max played “Just As I Am” on the piano when everyone was seated, and the service began. Pastor Hafer delivered a sermon around a passage from First Corinthians and led the group in prayer. Mr. Max played “Rock of Ages” and Glynnis’s daughter Trista sang “Amazing Grace” and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

Max finished with “When the Saints Go Marching In” and “Shall We Gather at the River?”

Given the circumstance, Glynnis decided asking the quilt group to do a eulogy would be insincere and asking her family would be too unpredictable. So, they left the speaking to Pastor Hafer and told the family remembrances could be done at the reception in the fellowship hall after the main service.

Marine’s family, followed by the quilters and then a group of church members who attended all funerals held at the church, left the sanctuary pew by pew. Francine was wearing the black dress the groups had paid for. The dress was a classic cut, but it was a little too tight through the hips and much too short. The overall effect was more barfly than grieving mother.

“I thought that went well, all things considered,” Lauren said as she and Harriet walked down the aisle. “Now the fun begins.”

“Can we postpone it for just a few minutes and swing by the ladies room?”

Jessica was behind them with Sharon.

“We’ll meet you downstairs in the cookie room. I want to get up close and personal with the family and see what we see.”

Lauren turned on the faucet at the sink and was washing her hands when Harriet came out of her stall and joined her.

“Do you want to work the family together?”

“I know that’s what Jane Morse said to do, but I’d rather take them one-on-one. I’m afraid they’ll become defensive if two of us gang up on them. If we stay in the same room, we should be okay.”

“I think you’re right. Just don’t go out of the fellowship hall.”

Harriet held her three fingers up beside her face.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Aunt Beth and Mavis were standing with Marine’s college-student sister by the coffee urn when Lauren and Harriet arrived. Glynnis was talking to Marine’s mother, so she was out of play for now. Harriet surveyed the room for the brother. He was on the opposite side of the room, eating cookies and scanning all around, much as she and Lauren were. He was clearly weighing options.

Their eyes met, and he set his plate of cookies down on the table.

“I got brother,” she said to Lauren and crossed the room. “Hi, my name is Harriet Truman,” she said when she’d reached her target. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“I know who you are. You’re that chick that sticks her nose in police business. I read about you in the paper.”

Harriet didn’t know what to say to that, so she kept her mouth shut.

The man stuck his hand out.

“I’m Jules, nice to meet you.” He had the same dark good looks as his sister but, like her, looked older than she knew him to be.

She shook his hand.

“Were you and your sister close?”

Jules laughed.

“Not how you’re probably thinking. I guess you know we weren’t your conventional family. We called each other when we needed something, but that’s about all. Foggy Point’s a small enough town that we shared the same ‘contacts,’ if you know what I mean.”

BOOK: Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8)
4.32Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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