Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) (31 page)

Aunt Beth looked up from packing her quilt bag.

“Just don’t stay out so late you’re too tired for tomorrow’s presentation.”

“Hey, I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Aunt Beth smiled.

“Well, then, you just act your age, and we’ll all be fine. Now, Mavis, why don’t you come have dinner with Jorge and me so you aren’t sitting home alone? He’s cooking Italian tonight.”

Harriet shook her head as she got up and headed for the door. She found it amazing that her aunt organized the lives of everyone around her so effortlessly.

James set a bowl of homemade chicken noodle soup in front of Harriet. He’d laid his kitchen table for two with a red gingham tablecloth, white napkins and a basket of crusty rolls strategically placed in the center.

“How was your day?” he asked as he sat down with his own bowl of steaming soup.

Harriet sipped a spoonful of soup.

“This is really good. What am I saying? Everything you make is good. Better than good.”

“It’s a simple soup.”

“You’re much too humble.” She reached across the table and took his free hand in hers. “You are an exceptional cook, and everything you make is beyond wonderful.”

“Okay, fine, but let’s talk about you. How was your day? Have the police caught Molly’s killer yet? You know, I worry about you going around chasing baddies. I’ve kind of gotten used to having you around.”

“Why, Chef James, I didn’t know you cared.” Harriet blushed as she smiled.

James gave her a knowing smile and picked up his spoon. She reminded herself she and he were snuggle-buddies and nothing more, but it didn’t stop her heart from flip-flopping in her chest.

“I spent the afternoon on a wild goose chase,” she said, trying to distract herself from James’s impossibly long eyelashes.

“Where did you go?”

Harriet described her hike in the woods with Lauren and Joyce as they ate.

James put his spoon down.

“So, you know the vent couldn’t have come from the bluff, or the park. Do you know who owns the rest of the property adjacent to the park and near the vent?”

“No. Joyce pointed out the park border, and frankly, I’d have never found it without her help. The land continues in the same woods and brush for ten or twenty yards, and then it went up a little and I couldn’t see what was on the other side.”

“If you can show me on a map what part of the park you were in, we can figure out what neighborhood backs up to it, and maybe we can figure out where the vent, if it really is a vent, originates.”

“Where can we get a map of Fogg Park?”

James stood up and carried their soup bowls to the sink.

“If we’re lucky, I have one. The local Chamber of Commerce printed a series of laminated maps a few years ago highlighting the various hiking trails in the area. If I remember right, there was one that covered Fogg Park and its surrounding environs. Let me finish clearing the table, and we can go up to my library and look.”

“You have a library?”

He smiled and waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I am a man of many mysteries.”

Harriet smiled.

“Follow me,” he said a moment later, and led her out of the kitchen and up an oak stairway. His dachshund, Cyrano, assumed the invitation was for him and got up from his bed next to the floor vent in the kitchen.

“He loves the library,” James explained as they climbed. “He has his own chair.”

Harriet laughed when she saw the stair step unit that was pushed up against the chair to assist the dachshundin climbing into the seat.

“I got tired of lifting him up and down every five minutes when we’re up here. He’s like a kid in a high chair. He drops his bone off the chair and then either jumps down and can’t get back up, or he looks at it and whines until I get up and get it for him.”

“You just need a cat. Fred and Scooter entertain each other.”

James went to a bookshelf and picked up what at first glance appeared to be a large book but turned out to be a box. He opened it and sorted through a a sheaf of maps.

“Ah, here we go.” He brought it to a library table that sat in the middle of the room and spread it out.

Harriet stood beside him and studied the map.

“Let’s see,” she put her finger on a spot within the area marked “Fogg Park.” “This is the homeless camp.” She traced the path she and the others had taken. She paused when the trail split three ways. “I know we went left, but I’m not sure which of the two lefts.”

James looked where her finger touched the map. He put one arm around her and pulled her to him as he pointed with his other hand.

“If you ended up near the bluff, you must have taken the far left.” He took her hand and traced the trail until it dead-ended near the border of the park.

Harriet breathed in and was overwhelmed by the scent of soap and a faint hint of lime. Had he put on aftershave? she wondered. She knew he didn’t allow his workers to wear scent of any sort around the food.

He tapped the spot.

“Does this look like where you were?”

“Are you wearing aftershave?”

James turned to face her and pulled her closer. His voice was husky when he spoke.

“Would it bother you if I was?”

He nibbled at her neck, working his way toward her mouth.

“I think it’s nice,” she said just before his mouth captured hers in a gentle kiss.

“Shall we bring the map with us to the TV room?” he asked when they separated. “I think we’ll be more comfortable there.”

He grabbed the map without waiting for an answer and took Harriet’s hand, leading her across the landing to what was originally the upstairs parlor. Two soft leather chairs with matching ottomans were separated by a large square side table. A goose-neck floor lamp stood behind the table, casting a soft yellow glow on a large bowl with two packages of microwave popcorn inside. A state-of-the-art flatscreen television hugged the wall opposite the chairs. James crossed to built-in cabinets next to the TV and opened a door, revealing a small microwave.

“Toss me the popcorn,” he instructed and held out his hand.

She did as instructed.

“I think I’m embarrassed about my TV room now that I’ve seen yours. This is pretty nice.”

Matching knitted afghans were draped over an arm of each chair, and once James had the first bag of popcorn cooking, he opened another door to reveal his library of movies.

“Hopefully, you’ll find something you like in here. I try to buy one or two movies from each of the different award-nominee lists. Unfortunately, I almost never get to watch any of them. It’s my fantasy to watch them all someday.”

Harriet ran her finger over the line of DVD cases.

“Historical, drama, drama.” She looked up at him. “Rom-com? I didn’t see that coming.”

He came over to see which one she was pointing at.

“I didn’t know what it was. It had ‘Die’ in the title, so I thought it was a mystery.”

Harriet closed her eyes and picked a movie from the middle of the group. She handed it to him without looking at it. He turned it over to read the back.

“A British woman’s coming of age story…I like it.”

She smiled.

“Me, too.”

“Get comfortable while I finish the popcorn.”

“That was really good,” Harriet said as the credits rolled at the end of the movie.

“Double-header?”

Harriet glanced at her phone. The night was still young.

“I’m in.”

“You pick the movie, I’ll be right back.”

She chose a zombie movie, and he came back with homemade ice cream sandwiches.

“Are you kidding me?” Harriet said as she peeled the wax paper from her treat.

“I was experimenting. I have to keep the menu fresh.”

“This is delicious,” she said when she finished her first bite.

He reached across the table between their chairs with his free hand and twined his fingers in hers.

“You know, I was thinking.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

He squeezed her hand.

“No, seriously. I was thinking about the map. You know that area along the border of Fogg Park you were looking at? I think it’s near Lois’s house. My mom’s friend.”

“I remember.”

“I used to play with Lois’s son while our moms did stuff. We went to some nearby woods to explore, and it went behind the houses in the neighborhood. I haven’t been there in years, but I think it might be the same place. Anyway, I know you have to go to your big fundraiser tomorrow, but I’ve got a little time between the lunch and dinner crowds. I thought I’d drive over there and look around.

“There’s been a lot of development in that part of Foggy Point since I was little, but I think the woods are still there, and I could stop by Lois’s house and see if she’d let me go through her yard and walk along the creek. If there’s anything there that could have a vent that comes out in the park, it should be pretty easy to spot.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” she protested.

“You didn’t ask. I volunteered. Besides, I happen to know Lois is quite partial to my Death-by-Chocolate. I’ll take her a piece, and she’ll be putty in my hands.”

“Is it safe?”

“Of course it’s safe. It’s practically Lois’s back yard. And this way, you’ll know whether there’s anything to what the psychic said or not.”

“I’m not sure it eliminates her information completely. She only said Molly felt like her shoulders were being squeezed in a narrow space. We concluded the vent hole we found was that space. We could be wrong.”

“It seems like that would be a pretty big coincidence. I mean, the psychic said she was in a tight space, and you found a vent that could be that tight space right by where she was found. If you believe the psychic in the first place, it seems like that pipe was what she was talking about.

“The question at hand is whether Molly was stuffed in the end of a pipe or if the pipe is really a tunnel or vent or drain, and she crawled out from somewhere else. If you get farther away than those woods by Lois’s house, the distance from Fogg Park becomes a problem.”

Harriet looked down at their hands and then smiled up at him through her lashes.

“I
am
kind of curious.”

“Consider it done. I’ll bring the short one there.” He lifted their hands and pointed to Cyrano, snoring on his chair, which sat against the side wall at right angles to the people chairs.. “We’ll consider it his training walk.”

James pointed the remote control at the DVD player and started the movie. When he saw the title, he pressed pause and tugged on Harriet’s hand.

“If we’re going to watch a scary movie, you’re going to have to get a little closer.”

His chair was big enough for two if she sat sideways and draped her legs across his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned back against his chest.

“I think I like movie night at your house.”

He smiled and pressed start.

Connie, Lauren, and Beth joined Mavis and Harriet for breakfast the next morning. Mavis had made bread in her bread machine, setting it to bake during the night, and then making it into French toast before her guests arrived.

“I know French toast isn’t on any of our diets, but I thought we should be fortified for the day’s events.”

Beth took a bite and savored it a moment before swallowing.

“You aren’t going to hear any arguments from me.”

Lauren smiled.

“What she said.”

Harriet set her fork down on her plate.

“Do we need to wrap the quilts like a present?” she asked no one in particular.

Connie sighed and leaned back in her chair.

“I suppose we should. We can’t just hand them to people, can we?”

Lauren sat up straight.

“We need to do it like they do on TV. You know—they wrap the bottom of the box and the top separately so when the person gets the package, they don’t have to rip any paper, they just gracefully slide the lid off and reveal the contents.”

“I think you watch too much TV,” Aunt Beth told her.

Harriet poured maple syrup on her second piece of toast.

“I like the idea, though. And I have some plain lidded boxes in the right size. I use them to deliver finished quilts when they have dimensional work on the top or if they’re particularly delicate.”