Make Quilts Not War (18 page)

“First things first,” Beth said. “We need to get Jenny out of
trou
ble before something worse happens. Then we can worry about
Aiden and his sister.”

“Honey, if it’s getting too uncomfortable, you and Wendy can stay with Rod and me,” Connie said. “You know we have plenty of room, and everything is baby-proofed.”

Carla rolled the baby monitor receiver back and forth from one hand to the other, indecision etched on her face.

“I’ll go back tonight and see how things are,” she said and blushed. “Terry offered to talk to Aiden, but I want to give Aiden a chance to do the right thing.”

“If Michelle is that out-of-control, maybe you should consider Connie’s offer,” Harriet said.

“My two rooms have locks on the doors. I’ll keep Wendy in my rooms instead of the nursery. And Terry gave me a can of pepper spray if all else fails.”

“Keep your cell phone on and with you at all times,” Aunt Beth instructed.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway silenced everyone. A moment later, there was a knock on the door and Jenny entered.

“Hi,” she said with a wan smile.

“Here, sit down,” Mavis said and brought her a wheeled workroom chair.

“Can I get you some tea?” Connie asked.

“That sounds wonderful,” Jenny answered as she took off her
coat and sat down. She turned to Harriet. “I’m so sorry. I know that woman thought it was me standing there by my quilt. I have no idea why she wanted to hurt me, but I was her target.”

“You didn’t throw the acid,” Harriet said. “And you couldn’t have guessed it was going to happen.”

“What did the police say?” Robin asked.

“They wanted to know if I know who she is—I don’t—and told me her name is Patty. They weren’t able to get a last name or any other information from her. She was avenging something, they think, but they can’t be sure because she was ranting so much. They had to sedate her just to remove her from the exhibit hall.”

“That’s very strange,” Aunt Beth said. “Have you ever known a Patty? Maybe when you were in school?”

“Of course I’ve known people named Pat or Patty through the years, but no one who bore me any ill will, and I would recognize them on sight. There was a Patty in the commune, but she was African American, so it couldn’t possibly be her.”

“I wonder what her last name is.” Connie mused. “That might tell us something.”

“It was hard to tell how old she was,” Harriet said. “She was definitely older than me, but I don’t think she was fifty yet.”

“So, we can rule out her being a classmate,” Mavis said.

“Can I get anyone some tea?” DeAnn asked. Several people agreed, and she disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’m going to go check Wendy,” Carla said, even though the baby monitor indicated the toddler was asleep and breathing evenly.

“Can I get you anything?” Aunt Beth asked Harriet.

“No, I’m as good as I’m going to get for right now.”

The remaining Loose Threads looked at each other as the crunch of gravel indicated another car had driven into Harriet’s driveway.

“Who could that be?” Mavis wondered. “We’re all here.”

A light knock sounded on the door, and Robin got up to see who was on the porch; her facial expression indicated it was someone she knew.

“Come in, Detective,” she said and stood aside so
Jane Morse could come into the room. “What brings you out this late on such a cold night?”

“Let’s not be coy, Ms. McLeod.”

“Which of my clients are you here to question, then.”

“Can we drop the formalities?” Morse asked.

“Are we off the record?” Robin countered.

“For now.”

Robin looked at the ladies sitting in a circle.

“My advice to everyone is that ‘off the record’ only exists on television, and therefore, you shouldn’t say anything without counsel present. I’m available to anyone who feels the need to unburden themselves in the presence of our esteemed colleague. Hand me a dollar before you speak so we’re covered.”

“I’m not here to accuse anyone of anything,” Jane Morse said. “I wanted to see how Harriet was doing, and I took a chance and drove by. I saw all the cars and figured you wouldn’t mind if I stopped.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said.

“I’m guessing you’ve all been doing what the police are doing—trying to figure out who the real target was,” Morse said.

DeAnn and Carla returned with a tray of steaming teacups with containers of milk, lemon, and honey and other sweeteners, passing them around then offering a cup to Jane.

“None of us who saw the woman recognized her,” Harriet said. “And both Jenny and I have known Pattys in the past, but we would recognize them, so we’re drawing a blank.”

“What if I tell you her full name is Patty Sullivan?” Morse asked.

Harriet shook her head.

“Doesn’t help.” She looked at Jenny.

The blood had left Jenny’s face, and she looked like she might faint.

“Put your head between your knees,” Connie ordered.

Lauren quietly slipped the laptop from her messenger bag and turned it on.

“I’d like to speak to my client alone before you question her,” Robin said.

“It’s okay,” Jenny said as she slowly sat up again. She looked at
Robin and took a deep breath. “I know—or knew—someone
named Sullivan. I mean, I didn’t know him, I knew
of
him. He was a policeman who was killed a long time ago during the commission of a robbery. My brother Bobby was involved in the incident, although he was not the shooter nor was he a bank robber; he spent two years in jail for it.”

“How long ago are we talking?” Morse asked in a quiet voice.

“Oh, gosh,” Jenny said and looked at the ceiling. “Bobby wasn’t quite twenty, so that would have been…nineteen sixty-eight. Forty-four years ago, maybe.”

Lauren’s fingers flew over the keys as they talked.

“A James Sullivan was killed in the line of duty during a robbery of the Bank of Washington in Lynnwood, Washington. He left behind three small children, including a one-year-old named Patty Sue,” she reported.

“I thought you grew up in a commune,” Harriet said.

“I did,” Jenny said. “We did, but Bobby left when he was eighteen. He got involved in drugs while he was still in Minnesota, and they asked him to leave.”

“I thought everyone used drugs in the sixties,” Lauren said.

“They did,” Jenny said. “And it was the professors’ fault Bobby got into it. They all smoked pot and let the kids over eighteen join them. Bobby began dealing and was good at it—too good. He was attracting too much attention; and not only from the police. He was climbing the ranks of the local drug organization. That didn’t fit with the peace-and-love message of the commune, although I’m not sure where they thought their own illegal drugs were coming from. At any rate, they told Bobby he had to find a new job or move, and so he left.”

“That explains why Patty might want to throw acid on your
brother
,” Morse said.

“I don’t know what else to tell you,” Jenny said. “I found out about it when Bobby wrote to me from jail.”

“Maybe Patty was doing the ‘eye for an eye’ brand of justice. She lost her father, maybe she wanted Bobby’s sister to suffer.” Mavis suggested.

“How did she even know about Bobby’s sister?” Aunt Beth
asked.

“Hello—the Internet,” Lauren said. “That’s why she waited so long, too. She had to wait until the information became accessible.”

“That’s a theory,” Detective Morse said. “But it doesn’t feel right. Why now? Forty-four years later.”

“Mental illness can come on at any age, can’t it?” Harriet asked.

“Yes, it can, but how would she know how to find Jenny, or the relationship to her brother. I know she could find basic information, but most mentally-ill people aren’t that organized.

“And I agree basic information about people can be found on the Internet, but that doesn’t tell you their daily schedule or what kind of car they drive. I’ll be surprised if Patty doesn’t turn out to be the tire-slasher, so she had to know which car was Jenny’s.”

“She could have asked around town,” Harriet suggested. “Or found out her address and then followed her.”

“Most people don’t have the skill to follow someone without being detected for long enough to learn what you’d need to know,” Morse said.

Lauren and Harriet looked at each other but didn’t say anything.

“What about Bobby?” Harriet asked Jenny.

“We haven’t spoken to each other in years. He showed up in town asking for money, I refused, and he left. I don’t know if he’s still in town.”

Harriet shared a look with Lauren again.

“If he’s here, we’ll find him,” Morse said. She stood up. “You probably need to rest. I really did stop by to see how you’re doing. And thanks for the tea,” she added.

Mavis got up and helped the detective into her coat.

“Let us know if you find out why this happened to Harriet, will you?” she asked.

“I’ll do my best to find out, and I’ll share what I can.”

“That’s all we ask,” Beth said and joined Mavis at the door. They watched until Detective Morse was out the door and into her car.

“Jenny, I talked to your brother today, and he says he wasn’t asking you for money. He says he was trying to warn you about something,” Harriet said. “Given what happened, I’m wondering if
he was going to warn you about Patty the acid thrower or
something else entirely. You were there—you have to have noticed that he was the first one to tackle the woman. He was the one who got the acid bottle from her and threw it out of reach. Then he took off.”

“And I’m wondering why you’re not being truthful about it,” Aunt Beth said firmly. “Maybe if you’d told us about your brother and maybe even talked to him, Harriet wouldn’t be scarred for life.”

Harriet thought Aunt Beth laid it on a little thick but was glad she was pressing Jenny to come clean.

“I just don’t want anything to do with him,” Jenny said, the color draining from her face. “He’s been nothing but trouble all our lives.” She turned to Harriet. “I’m really sorry about all this.”

“He told me he’s getting his life together. He said he’s off drugs. He said he’s been lying low, trying to leave you alone, but he had to make contact now for your own good.” Harriet said. “Don’t you think you need to hear him out?”

“How am I supposed to find him?” Jenny asked with a sigh.

“He might be at the Fogg Park campground,” Lauren offered. “Or maybe he’s still hanging around the festival grounds.”

“Fine. If you can find him, I’ll talk to him. I don’t want to open that chapter of my life after all these years, but if it will help make sure that woman isn’t set loose to hurt anyone else, I’ll try.”

Harriet sat up straighter in her chair.

“Don’t even think you’re going along with whoever is going to look for Jenny’s brother,” Aunt Beth informed her. “And just for the record, I think now is a time for us to call Jane. She should be the one talking to him. Or at least be there when it takes place.”

Jenny’s shoulders drooped.

“I may not welcome my brother and all his drama back into my life, but if he’s truly gotten his life straightened out, like Harriet says, then I don’t want to mess that up for him by having the police pick him up, even if it is just for questioning. Once they check his record, they’ll assume he’s guilty of something.”

“Do we have to go looking for him tonight?” Mavis wondered “Patty’s in custody, and it’s not likely she was working with anyone else. Let’s all get a good night’s sleep, and then Jenny can find her brother and see what he was trying to warn her about.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Beth said.

“Will everyone be safe?” Connie asked. She looked at Jenny. “Why don’t you stay in my guest room? I think we’d all feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“I have to admit I’m a little nervous about staying alone at my place,” Jenny confessed. “My husband isn’t going to be home for another week.”

“I’ll call Rod and tell him to be ready to go to your house with us,” Connie said and pulled her cell phone from her purse.

“I can cover your booth for part of the day tomorrow,” DeAnn offered Harriet. “Kissa goes to baby playtime at the church in the morning—her therapist told us we should help her spend time with other babies. Since we don’t know what her life was like before we adopted her, she thought socialization with a group of other babies was in order as a precaution.”

“Precaution against what?” Connie demanded.

“Nothing specific. She mentioned listening to the other babies talking and learning to share and interact in a group.”

“She’s a baby,” Connie said. “Young children don’t develop an awareness of other children until three years at least.”

“I figured it wouldn’t hurt her to go,” DeAnn said. “She seems to like playing around the other kids. So, I’m available in the morning if you want.”

“I can find a sub for the raffle booth in the afternoon,” Mavis
said.

“I have to check with my client and see if they’ve finished their system test yet. If they haven’t, I could do time in the booth,” Lauren said.

“Harriet,” Carla said, “if you don’t mind Wendy coming along, I could help you tomorrow.”

“I would love to see Wendy, and I’d appreciate having a little
help. I’m not supposed to move my arm, and I could use a ride to the doctor, if you don’t mind, since I have to have the burn checked and redressed. I’m not supposed to drive when I take the medication they gave me.”

“Carla can take Scooter out for you, too,” Aunt Beth said. “And I’m going to go get Brownie, and we’re going to both spend the night with you.”

“That’s not necessary—” Harriet tried to protest.

“Don’t argue with me. We’re not letting you spend the night alone.”

Harriet knew by the tone of her voice there would be no changing her mind.

“Jenny, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go with you when you talk to your brother,” Robin said. “He told Harriet he’s off drugs, but we’re just taking his word for it. Even if he is, with everything that’s happened, I don’t think you should go anywhere alone until we figure out what’s going on.”