Quilter's Knot (26 page)

"He thinks something bad happened to Lauren, which means she's not the bad guy."

Harriet covered her face with her hands. “I've done my share of complaining about Lauren, but I never wanted anything like this to happen to her.” She rubbed her eyes.

Robin called Mavis and Connie again and asked them to come back to the restaurant parking lot to pick them up.

"We might as well go back to the Tree House and try to do our blocks. I'm fresh out of ideas for places to look."

"Tom and Aiden are going to come this afternoon so we can look in the outbuildings at the school."

"I guess it can't hurt. We probably wouldn't be able to concentrate on our blocks anyway. I'll be surprised, though, if it turns out someone who would snatch Lauren would hide her at the school where we might stumble on her."

"I'm learning there are a lot of storage and utility spaces on the grounds, and several of them are hard to find unless you know they're there."

"I guess we can try,” Robin said, and led the way back across the alley.

Mavis drove the minivan into the parking lot and opened the door. “You want to drive?” she asked.

"No, you go ahead,” Robin told her, and collapsed into a middle row seat. Harriet climbed into the back row and put on her seatbelt.

"You two don't look so good,” Connie said. “What happened?"

Harriet explained the details of their attempt to look for Lauren in Les's apartment.

"Tom and Aiden are going to help us search the grounds in a little while. Other than that, we wait and see what the police find out,” she finished.

The group drove back to the Tree House, each lost in her own thoughts. The men were waiting on the porch when they trooped single file from the parking lot.

"Put a little oil on her dry food each morning, and it should help that,” Aiden was saying to Tom when the women joined them.

"Thanks."

You would never have known Aiden had clubbed Tom in the jaw and Tom had knocked Aiden off this same porch not that long ago. They were smiling and talking like old pals.

"We're here for the big search,” Aiden said. “On time, I might add.” He checked his watch and then studied Harriet. “What happened?"

Harriet looked at Mavis. “Could you tell him? I need a few minutes.” She went on into the house.

Mavis explained the latest news and assured him that nothing had happened to Harriet.

"Maybe I should send everyone home,” Tom said.

"That might help,” Mavis agreed. “But I doubt you'd get people to leave before the memorial for your mother. And we can't leave here without Lauren."

"I suppose."

"Aiden and I talked this over while we were waiting,” Tom said when Harriet came back down from her room. She'd washed her face, brushed her teeth and refreshed her deodorant. It didn't help solve the Lauren problem, but she did feel a tiny bit better.

"I brought a couple of maps of the property, and we've divided up the keys,” Tom continued.

"Yeah, Harriet and I will be one team, and Robin, Tom and Carla will be the other,” Aiden jumped in. He looked at Mavis. “We thought Connie and Mavis could man the phones so if one of us finds something, we can let them know and they'll contact the others."

"The cell phone reception is spotty up here, as I'm sure you've all noticed, but most of the buildings have phones in them, so call on the house phones if you need to,” Tom finished.

He handed out the maps. He and Aiden had already divided the keys, obviously assuming the women would agree with their plan.

"As you can see from your maps, the property is roughly a rectangle. I thought we could start in opposite corners and work our way toward each other. The northeast corner is undeveloped, so there's nothing to search. The southwest area is where we are now. We don't really need to search here, and in any case we can do this area last. Aiden has the keys to the buildings on the west half of the property, and I kept the east-side keys. Any questions?"

They had all figured out. Mavis got bottles of water out of the refrigerator and handed one to each of the searchers.

"Good luck,” she said. “And call if you find anything."

With a salute to Mavis and Connie, Aiden turned and grabbed Harriet's hand and led her out the door. Harriet shook the map open with her free hand.

"Seems like only yesterday I was in the northwest corner of the property—oh, wait, I was in the northwest corner ... trapped in a basement!” she said.

"It will be different this time,” Aiden said with a smile. “You'll have me. Maybe we can make a new memory to replace the bad ones."

Harriet rolled her eyes.

He stopped as soon as they were out of sight of the Tree House, pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her.

"Hey, we're supposed to be looking for Lauren."

"We are,” he said, but didn't loosen his hug. “There's no reason we can't do both.” He kissed her, but she didn't respond.

"I can't do this right now. Not until we find Lauren. I was worried before, but at Les's apartment, when that detective said he was worried, too, that was more frightening than anything that's happened so far."

"Okay, okay,” He let her go and started down the path again. “We will be totally serious.” He looked back at her with his best attempt at a serious face, but it was so obviously false, Harriet burst out laughing. “I'm glad you find my efforts to be serious so funny."

"This week hasn't turned out like I expected,” Harriet said, catching up with Aiden and walking beside him.

"You mean you didn't expect the head lady to be murdered and one of the Loose Threads to be accused and then to disappear."

"That, and a few other things. And I never even wanted to come here in the first place. I really am more of a homebody. I know my aunt thinks I withdrew from society when Steve died, but she doesn't realize how much I liked spending time in my own home, even when he was alive.

"My parents dragged me all over the world. When I was with them, life happened at an accelerated pace. There were dinners and openings and museums, and if I never see another university science department it will be too soon. I know I was lucky, but I've seen enough. I want to spend time in my studio, with my fabric and my quilting machine. Is that so terrible?"

"Hey, whatever you want to do is fine with me. I'd be happy if you stayed in Foggy Point making quilts all day and sleeping in my arms all night."

"But first we have to find Lauren, and prove she didn't kill Selestina."

"Is that all? No problem."

The two landscapers Harriet had seen in the school office were in the meadow, each carrying a large green plastic bucket. They wore thick gloves and were picking plants that had clusters of purple flowers on thin stems. They carefully put the plants into their buckets, tucking the stems carefully below the rims.

"Those are the guys Tom hired to get rid of the poisonous plants,” Harriet said. “It's kind of scary, thinking there were poisonous plants all over the place and any one of us could have accidentally come in contact with them."

"That's the same poison that was used to kill the Pakistani cricket coach at the World Cup a few years ago. At least, an anonymous caller said it was. I thought it grew in the mountains, though."

"I think it does, unless people get plants and put them in their wildflower gardens."

"Tom was telling me about his idea to build a couple of adult foster care homes in this meadow,” Aiden said, changing the subject. “He's put a lot of thought into it. His mom could have lived her life out surrounded by art as her memory slipped away. I don't know if she had dementia or not, but he really does believe she did."

"Either that, or he's a good actor.” She spotted the studio building in the distance. “We've been assuming someone wrecked his office, making him a victim. What if it was all a set-up? He could have trashed his own office, just like he could have run you off the road. When you think about it, he could be the one counterfeiting the student quilts. There's no reason a man can't be a quilter. And we know he does the shipping. Depending on how many he's selling, it could be a nice little income stream, and no one would be the wiser."

"I suppose he could have hired those landscape guys to reinforce the idea he couldn't recognize the poison plants,” Aiden said. “Geez, I was just starting to like the guy, too."

"Do you think Carla and Robin are in danger being with him?"

"No, I don't. He's trying to prove to us that he's an innocent victim in all this. If he's done something to Lauren, he may very well lead them to her. Then again, it may be more effective if he lets us find her."

"You think Lauren's dead?"

"I think it's a possibility,” Aiden said, his usual smile gone.

When they arrived at Selestina's workshop it was dark.

"Darn it,” she said. “I didn't even think about bringing a flashlight. I don't know if the lights in the workshop survived the fire."

Aiden unlocked the workshop door, and she flipped all the switches on the panel to the right of it. Nothing happened. They both looked at the lights, and she flipped them again.

"We should have brought a flashlight,” she repeated. “Carla and I searched the kitchen when we were locked in and all we found was a little penlight and a couple of birthday candles."

"There should be enough light from the windows to see if someone is in here,” Aiden said and started forward.

"Not in the basement. And if I were going to hide someone, that's where I'd put them."

He sighed. “I've got a flashlight in my bag in the rental car,” he said in a flat voice. “Come on, I guess we go back and get it."

"One of us could search the upstairs while the other goes to get the light."

"No, no and no. We do
not
split up for any reason. Let's just hurry back and get the light."

With him leading the way, they made a quick hike back past the Tree House and into the parking lot, where he quickly located the flashlight.

"As long as we're back here, I'm going to the ladies room,” Harriet said.

From the parking lot, it was about equal distance to the Tree House or to the restroom behind the dining cabin. She headed for the latter.

"I'll be right here,” Aiden said.

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The restroom had a two-door set-up. The first one led into a vestibule with the second, which opened into the actual bathroom. The vestibule floor was covered with a piece of synthetic turf that caught the pine needles and debris that were everywhere in the forest. The left wall had a hinged chrome ring set flush to the surface. Harriet assumed it was the pull-out handle to a utility closet.

She pushed open the second door and entered the bathroom.

"Hi,” said Jan Hayes. “I wasn't sure you were still here. I haven't seen you around."

"I've been struggling with my half-rectangle project at the Tree House."

Jan gave her a long look. “I thought maybe you were investigating Selestina's death. People were whispering in class yesterday about the police thinking your friend Lauren was involved."

Harriet's impulse was to say
she's not my friend
, but that seemed childish. “The police did question her, but I'm sure they've talked to lots of people. As far as I know, they still don't have a suspect in Selestina's death."

"I heard you solved the murder of Avanell Jalbert a while back. I figured you'd be investigating Selestina's death."

"It was just a coincidence that I was involved in Avanell's murder. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Normal people don't really solve murders. That just happens in books."

"Whatever you say,” Jan said. “I better get back to the workshops. I'm making a sample using oil paint sticks on black satin. Good luck with your quilt.” She went out the door, leaving Harriet alone with her thoughts.

Harriet washed her hands when she had finished her business. She was impressed—the sink was equipped with small bars of French-milled soap and the faucets provided hot water as well as the usual cold most outdoor restrooms were notorious for.

She still had a paper towel in her hand as she opened the door to the vestibule. Later, she would remember the paper towel but not the scraping noise that must have accompanied the opening of the storeroom door. She fell as someone dragged her backward, covering her head with a coarse cloth. She took a breath, and her nostrils filled with dust and chaff, making her sneeze.

A cord tightened around her neck, and she grabbed at her throat, managing to slip the fingers of her right hand under the ligature before it cut her air off completely. She tried to cry out, but any noise she made was muffled by whatever was over her head. All she succeeded in doing was inhaling more moldy dust.

Then something was tied around the outside of the cloth, covering her mouth and effectively gagging her.

She was still being dragged backward, stumbling to keep from falling. She grappled around behind with her left hand, trying to grab whoever was forcing her backward, but she wasn't able to get a grip on anything and was unwilling to move her right hand from the rope at her throat.

She felt the soft surface of the artificial turf change to cement-like hardness as she was dragged through another door. She realized the storeroom must open to the men's room on its opposite side. The cool air when she stumbled through what felt like another door confirmed her suspicion. The storeroom connected the men's room to the ladies room, and she had just been forced through the men's-room door and was being pushed through the forest.

A berry vine slashed her where her jeans leg had ridden up, snagging on her sock and then pulling through her skin as she was half-dragged, half-pushed deeper into the woods. A rivulet of blood trickled down her leg, wetting the top of her sock. The cord around her neck was yanked tighter, and her vision dimmed. The last thing she heard was a grunting voice saying “You can wait here,” followed by a laugh.

When Harriet regained consciousness, the hood had been removed from her head and the rope from around her neck. The painful bruises were still firmly in place.