Quilter's Knot (11 page)

"I don't know how I'm supposed to go on without her,” she blubbered. “I thought all our planning was just talk—you know, something to make her feel better, not something that was really going to happen. I can't run this place alone. This wasn't part of the plan.” She covered her face with her hands, and tears leaked out between her fingers.

Connie went into the kitchenette for the tissue box. She pulled out three and brought them to Patience. Robin rubbed her hand on the teacher's bony back.

Patience blew her nose and sat up straighter, shaking off Robin's hand in the process. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't come here to make a scene. I came to make sure you were all right. And to be sure everyone knows school will go on as scheduled.” She stood up. “Thank you for the tea. I've got two more houses to inform, so I better be on my way."

"That poor woman,” Connie said when Patience was gone.

"I have to agree. I can't see her running the place, either,” Harriet said. “Selestina seemed mean-spirited, but she also seemed to run a tight ship."

"Honey, let's not judge too quickly. We've only seen Patience in Selestina's shadow. She might be a great businesswoman in her own right. And kinder, too,” Mavis suggested.

"Okay, so she's wonderful,” Lauren said. “Can we get back to my catastrophe?"

"So, tell me again what the deal is,” Darcy said. “Your piece looks like the teacher's piece and you're here learning from the teacher, so this is a problem why?"

"It's a problem because I didn't copy her work or anyone else's. Someone has to have copied mine."

"If you're learning a certain skill set from a teacher, isn't it likely that everyone who takes the class will end up with something that looks similar?"

"We're studying machine embroidery, and hand dyeing our fabric. Selestina gave us a theme, but beyond that we could do anything. My piece didn't look like any of the other students'. And Selestina certainly never gave us any indication she was working on her own piece."

"Couldn't she have made something similar without copying your work?” Darcy persisted.

Lauren stood up. “Come on. Since you can't seem to comprehend what I'm telling you, come look. You'll see what I mean. My piece is still hanging in the exhibit hall.” She looked at the group seated around the table. “Anyone else want to come?"

Harriet and Robin got up.

"I don't need to join the drama,” Sarah said. “I'm going to go read my teacher's book on the creative use of thread."

"Whatever!” Lauren shot a dark look at Sarah's back as she retreated up the stairs.

The women made a quick, silent trip through the woods to the fiber arts building.

"This way.” Lauren led them around the display hall. “Arghhh!” she screamed.

Harriet, Robin and Darcy reached her and looked at the empty wall where her piece had hung the day before.

"Calm down,” Darcy said. “Screaming isn't going to help anything."

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation,” Harriet added. “Don't they send them to London to be evaluated at the textile guild? Maybe they took yours down so they could pack it for shipping."

"Okay, genius,” Lauren snarled, fire in her eyes. “Why are all the others still here? Do you think they started in the middle of the exhibit? You do know they send everyone's work, right? They don't pick one person's work to send. They all go.” She looked away in disgust then turned back. “Why are you defending them, anyway?"

Harriet held her hands up, palms out in placation. “Hey, leave me out of this."

"Why don't you go to the office and ask what happened?” Darcy suggested. “Come on, I'll go with you.” She put her arm around Lauren's shoulders and turned her back toward the door then glanced back at Harriet and Robin and rolled her eyes skyward.

"Doesn't it seem a little strange that if only one piece has gone missing it would turn out to be Lauren's?” Harriet wondered aloud once they were gone.

"It's pretty convenient for Selestina. Or it would be if she wasn't beyond caring."

"That's the part that doesn't make sense.” Harriet was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we're making this more complicated than it is. If Lauren has been her usual charming self in class, maybe she offended a classmate and they took her quilt in retaliation."

"Would her teacher know?"

"I'm not sure. I know she and Connie have been taking classes together, but the two-year students have some kind of advisor as well. Let's go see if any teachers are in the offices."

Harriet opened the next door they came to and led Robin into the honeycomb of offices and work spaces that made up the center of the building. In the third cubicle they went into they found three teachers sitting at a small table with coffee mugs and a plate of chocolate chip cookies in front of them.

Harriet explained only that her friend Lauren had been upset at lunch and was worried she'd offended some of her classmates. A large woman in baggy black corduroy pants and a purple felted vest over a red silk blouse leaned back in her chair.

"You either got some bad soup at lunch, or there are two Laurens here and we haven't met the second one.” She looked over the top of her black-rimmed half-moon reading glasses. “The Lauren we know has raised offending classmates to an art form."

"Any classmate in particular?” Harriet asked.

The woman looked at the other two teachers before speaking. One shrugged and the other went back to reading her newspaper without comment.

"Lauren came to me with accusations that Selestina had copied her work.” She shifted in her chair as if she suddenly couldn't get comfortable. “I'm her advisor now, but the students rotate through a series of teachers depending on which skill they are focusing on during any given term. The piece in question was made while she was taking class from Selestina. I had seen the piece as it developed, but I didn't pay close attention at that point. I knew I would see it before Selestina sent it to England for inspection."

Harriet's eyes widened.

"All the fiber arts department heads inspect work before it goes to be judged in England. So, I would have seen it, and I haven't."

"So, if Lauren's piece hasn't been sent off to be judged, where is it?” Harriet asked.

"I'm sure I have no idea. I wouldn't put it past her to have taken it down just for dramatic effect."

"No, that's not Lauren's style. She over-reacts, but she wouldn't create a crisis from whole cloth,” Robin said.

"Are you sure?” Harriet asked. “She seems a little flighty to me."

"You've only seen her in stressful circumstances. She's not like this all the time. There has to be another explanation."

"Come on, let's go back to the Tree House."

Robin thanked the advisor for talking to them before following Harriet back to the hallway.

"I'm going to call Aunt Beth and see if she's found the picture of the European quilt yet. If she has, I'll have her fax it to the office. We've all seen Lauren's piece. If we see the other one we can get an idea of how similar they are. I can ask at the office about whether there's some innocent explanation for Lauren's quilt being gone. If Lauren was her usual charming self, she might not have gotten anywhere with them."

With that settled, they left the fiber arts building and returned to the Tree House. Darcy was in the kitchenette when they arrived.

[Back to Table of Contents]

"Did you find out anything at the office?” Harriet asked.

"You mean besides how obnoxious Lauren can be when she's upset?"

Harriet laughed. “Yeah, besides that."

"No, not really. Lauren's attitude pretty much put an end to any information we might have gotten."

"I'm going to go call Aunt Beth and get her to fax us a copy of that picture."

"I'll walk that way with you,” Darcy said. “I got cell reception out near the road. I'm going to check and see if my guy is anywhere close to getting here. Every minute that goes by means it's less likely we can collect a clean sample."

Aunt Beth had good news when Harriet called her. “I've found the picture I was telling you about,” she said after they had exchanged greetings. “And speak up, I can hardly hear you."

Harriet turned her back to the woman sitting at the desk the phone was on. She raised her voice slightly.

"Good. Can you fax it to me?"

"Honey, I could, but that would be in black and white. I really think you need to see this in color. Ask and see if they have a Kinko's or something like that,” she instructed. “I'll send it to your e-mail. Can you access your e-mail remotely?"

Harriet assured her computer-savvy aunt that she could.

"Do you have a phone book?” she asked the woman at the desk.

"I do, but if you're looking for a Kinko's there isn't one on the island. There
is
a UPS store that has computers and printers you can use by the hour.” She looked up at Harriet and had the good grace to blush. “Sorry, your aunt talks sort of loud."

"How far is it to the UPS store,” Harriet asked after she'd said her good-byes to Aunt Beth and hung up the telephone.

"It's about a mile and three quarters. Turn left out of the driveway then right at the first corner. Go straight up the hill on Harbor Drive. When the hill levels off, you'll see it on the right—you can't miss it."

She and Darcy were almost to the door when Patience emerged from an adjoining doorway. “Did I hear you ladies were headed to town?"

"I'm going to the UPS store to use the computer. My aunt is emailing me a picture,” Harriet said. “Can I bring you something?"

Patience dabbed at her nose with a tissue. “If it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you bring me a bottle of aspirin from the pharmacy? I have a pounding headache, and I'm all out. I found a few packets in the first-aid kit...” She waved two small white packets. “...but these aren't coated. If I keep taking them my stomach will rebel. I'd really appreciate it."

"Sure, it's no problem."

Patience dug in her pocket and pulled out a crumpled five-dollar bill. “This should cover it,” she said, and handed the bill to Harriet then left the office.

Harriet hoped Patience's runny nose was the result of crying sad tears or maybe an allergy rather than something contagious, since she'd had no choice but to take the proffered bill. She looked around for signs of a restroom and then spotted a pump bottle of hand sanitizer. She reached across the counter and helped herself to a good squirt. She wasn't going to leave with a cold if she could help it.

"It's getting kind of late to be walking, isn't it?” Darcy asked.

Harriet stepped out onto the porch. The sun was low in the sky.

"I think I can make it if I hurry. I really want to see the picture Aunt Beth has."

"If you get hung up, call me. If I don't answer, call the office and make them find me. That road is steep, and it's not well-lit."

Harriet hadn't even made it out of the driveway when rain started to fall as a fine mist. She took the purple hat out of her sweatshirt pocket and covered her hair. The mist was turning into a steady drizzle, and she was thinking about turning around when a white pickup pulled onto the shoulder, blocking her path.

"Going my way?” Aiden said as he leaned out the window and rested his chin on his bent arm.

Harriet ignored him and tried to walk around the truck, but he eased it forward, blocking her way again.

"Come on, you're going to catch your death of cold out here in the rain,” he pleaded. “And you know me well enough to know I'm not going to leave until you get in."

She stood, pondering her options. She didn't have time to fool around.

"Don't make me come out there,” Aiden said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Fine.” She pulled the purple hat off her head and shook the raindrops from it as she climbed in.

"Buckle up. I'm on my way to the No-tell Motel to have some fun."

She swatted him with the hat. “Brat!"

"I notice you're not getting out."

"I'm confident you aren't out trolling for women,” she said and set her hat on the console between them. “What are you doing out and about at this time of day, anyway? I thought you were in surgery from dawn to dark."

"We were about to run out of anesthetic, and since I'm the newest, I had to drive to a clinic on the other end of the island. Besides, in case you haven't noticed, it
is
almost dark.

"And your school is donating quilts for the recovering patients to rest on, which I'm supposed to pick up when the teachers get out of their staff meeting. As soon as I deliver the drugs, I'm coming back here to do that, which is why I am at exactly this spot in the universe just when you need me most."

"Lucky me."

"Are you running away from school? You're traveling kind of light if you are."

"Very funny. Class was canceled this afternoon, and I am going into town to find a public computer."

"Are you one of those people who obsessively check their e-mail? You know the kind—they can't go twenty-four hours without checking, even if it means walking through a driving rainstorm to get to a computer. I never would have guessed."

"I am not obsessively checking my e-mail. It happens that my aunt is sending me some information that will help clear up a little problem we're having.” Harriet quickly explained Lauren's belief that her work had been copied and the subsequent disappearance of that work.

"You're not one of those people who see trouble around every corner, are you? Do you have to have drama in your life constantly?"

"I don't see that my dramatic needs are any of your concern,” she said, and turned to look at him.

"If I'm going to be your boyfriend, I need to know these things."

"You are not going to be my boyfriend. You stood me up."

"For the last time, I did not stand you up. You never called me back. I waited a reasonable amount of time, and then I went to the exhibit—alone, I might add."

"You didn't look very alone to me, and besides, I did call you back. I left a message with your assistant."

Aiden pulled to a stop in front of the UPS Store.