The Quilt Before the Storm (25 page)

Tom’s pickup was in the driveway beside Jorge’s when Harriet drove into the garage.

“Where have you been?” Lauren asked when she came into the kitchen.

“At the church and the grocery store,” Harriet replied. “What difference does it make?”

“If you had been here, maybe you could have stopped them.”

“Stopped who?” Aunt Beth asked as she joined them.

“Jorge and Tom are unclogging the rain gutter…on the attic roof.”

“What?” Aunt Beth and Harriet said at the same time.

“I tried to talk them out of it,” Lauren said. She pulled Carter out of her sweatshirt and set him on the kitchen floor in front of his water dish. “A burst of rain hit while they were having a cup of coffee, and they saw the overflow gushing past the window where the downspout is plugged. When the rain slowed again, they went into the garage and dug around for a while. They came out with an armload of ropes and boards and a broken fireplace poker and headed upstairs to the attic.”

“Please tell me they didn’t go out the attic window,” Harriet said.

“They rigged some sort of harness and anchored it to the exposed beam where the roofline slopes down to the eave.”

“I can’t stand it,” Harriet said. “We’ve already lost two men since this storm began. Do we have to lose two more?” She headed for the stairs. “I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”

Fred jumped from his perch on top of the hallway bookcase and followed her up.

“Come on, Fred,” she said when she reached her room. “Your doctor is being a real jerk, and I’m tired of thinking about it.” She patted her hand on the bed, inviting him up onto the down comforter. She unzipped her hoodie and as she took it off, Duane’s phone slid out of the pocket.

“Ahh, Duane. Let’s see if you’ve left me anything useful here.” She gently pressed the on button. The phone hesitated for a heart-stopping few seconds, and then the screen glowed green as it went through its wake-up cycle.

Harriet grabbed a tablet and pen from her desk and prepared to scribble notes. She wasn’t sure how long the phone would last, given a five-minute charge. She hit the contacts button first, but Duane had an extensive network. There was no way she could write it all down before the phone died again. She saw the notes icon and pressed it. The first note seemed to be a list of some sort. It was all numbers—what could be phone numbers followed by another number that varied between five and six digits. She frantically wrote the numbers down.

She selected the second note and opened it. It was also numbers, but they didn’t follow a regular pattern. She wrote them down.

The third and last note was an ICE notification—In Case of Emergency—followed by a name, address, phone number and e-mail address.

“Well, that’s something, anyway,” Harriet said to Fred as the green light faded and the phone again went dead. “Arghh,” she yelled and threw the phone down on her bed. “I want my power back.”

Fred looked at her as if trying to decide whether he needed to dash for cover, but her tantrum was short-lived so he settled down on the bed and closed his eyes.

“Well, we can worry about what it all means after our nap.”

“Hi, honey,” Aunt Beth said when Harriet came into the kitchen. “Did you have a good rest?”

“I do feel a little better. I don’t have any idea what to do about Aiden, but my nap did me good.”

“Why don’t you grab a cup of tea and join us in the living room? Tom brought brownies from the Renfros’. Jane is back, too.”

Harriet came into the living room a few minutes later, mug in hand.

“Where are the brownies?” she asked.

Jorge lifted the embroidered dishtowel that was draped over them, keeping them warm.

“Oh, my gosh,” she said as she bit into the warm, chewy, chocolaty goodness.

“Guess who’s coming to dinner,” Lauren announced.

“Besides Tom?”

“Hey, I earned my dinner,” he protested. “I was the one dangling out the window, unclogging the downspout.”

“And I appreciate that,” Jane Morse said. “Although I think a freight train could go through my room tonight, and I could sleep through it. We had to double up at the motel where the task force was meeting when the slide happened and we had to stay longer. The only other female detective was a very nice woman from Bremerton who unfortunately snored like a chainsaw.”

“So, honey,” Aunt Beth said. “Mavis and I were thinking we should invite Pat and Lisa to dinner.”

“Why?” Harriet asked.

“You know why,” Mavis said. “You know Marjory would expect nothing less. She has her differences with her sister, but she would be the first one to console her at the loss of her husband. And since she’s not here, we need to step up in her place.”

“But Pat’s the reason Marjory
isn’t
here to do it herself. Don’t you think she’ll feel like we’re betraying her?”

“Pat is her sister,” Aunt Beth said. “She’d be there for her, no matter what she’s done. Besides, we don’t know if Pat had anything to do with the scheme to try to take Marjory’s money. That could have been all Richard.”

“Maybe we should ask her, if we have to have her here.” Harriet finished her brownie and took another one.

“I wouldn’t mind asking her a few questions myself,” Jane Morse said.

“Let’s see what shape she’s in before we start planning any ambushes,” Mavis said.

“Would you like me to go pick them up?” Jorge asked.

“Thanks, but if Harriet doesn’t mind, I think it would be better she drives Beth or I over to invite them,” Mavis said. “Besides, don’t you have cooking to do?”

“I don’t like you ladies driving around by yourselves in this storm,” he protested.

“The worst of the storm has passed. We’ll be fine.” Aunt Beth assured him.

“Jorge is worried about us going out alone after dark with a murderer on the loose,” Lauren said.

“I’m available,” Tom volunteered.

“If it’s the killer you’re worried about, I’ll go,” Detective Morse said. “It would make my job easier if the bad guy found us—I could arrest him or her, and we could pick up Pat and her daughter all in one trip.”

“Enough, everyone,” Aunt Beth said. “Harriet and I will go, we’ll stay on well-traveled roads and go straight to the church and back.”

“Seems like all you need to do is stay away from Fogg Park and you should be good.” Tom said.

“I’ll be in the car waiting,” Harriet said. “The sooner we go get them, the sooner we can bring them back.”

“Good point,” Lauren said.

“Are you sure this isn’t a recipe for disaster?” Harriet asked as they made their way through the still, dark streets.

“We’re not going to let it become a disaster. The woman just lost her husband. No matter how bad the relationship is between her and Marjory, she’s grieving her loss, and we need to respect that.”

Pat and Lisa simply said yes when Aunt Beth asked them to come to dinner. Beth led them back to the car, where they got in then rode in silence until Harriet guided the car back into her garage.

Once inside, Harriet took their coats and hung them in the kitchen coat closet, and Beth guided them into the living room, offering them chairs in front of the fire.

“Have you met Jane Morse?” she asked.

“Nice try,” Pat snapped. “We were grilled by the detective earlier today at the church. My husband is dead, and she’s treating Lisa and me like criminals.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss,” Jane said. “My job is to find out who killed your husband and bring him or her to justice. Sometimes that means I have to ask questions that make people uncomfortable. I mean no offense.”

“I’m sure no offense is taken,” Aunt Beth said. “Pat, Detective Morse is staying here with us until the water recedes. She’s not here as a police officer tonight.”

“May I fix you something to drink?” Jorge asked. “We have coffee, tea and hot chocolate as well as sodas and water.”

He took drink orders and went back to the kitchen accompanied by Tom.

“Will you be holding a memorial service?” Harriet asked Pat.

“I haven’t thought about that yet.” Tears started coursing down her cheeks. “I wish Marjory was here,” she said. “She’d know what to do.”

“Should of thought about that before she sold her sister down the river,” Lauren whispered to Harriet.

“Is there anything we can do for you?” Mavis asked. “Can we call anyone for you? We have access to a satellite phone.”

“There isn’t anyone to call,” Pat sobbed. “Richard and Lisa are all I have, and now Marjory won’t talk to us, either.”

“That’s on you, Mother,” Lisa said, speaking for the first time since she’d arrived. “I told you and Daddy you should have told Aunt Marjory the truth and thrown yourself on her mercy, but no, you had to try to be all tricky and cheat her out of Gramma’s money.”

An awkward silence followed.

“I’m so sorry,” Pat said finally, looking at Lisa. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Aunt Beth said softly.

“I can’t,” Pat said, looking at each of them in turn. She started crying again. Her normally pink cheeks were turning a purple-red. Harriet was thankful Jorge and Tom were lingering in the kitchen and Jane had chosen to join them there.

“Mom,” Lisa said, raising her voice. “These people might be able to help us fix things with Aunt Marjory. Come on—it’s our only chance.”

“It might help,” Mavis coaxed.

Pat continued crying. Harriet held out a box of tissues, and she took several, blowing her nose noisily. She shuddered and took a deep breath.

“Richard was about to go to jail,” she said finally.

Harriet looked at her aunt, but Beth was waiting patiently for Pat to continue. Lauren made the circular motion with her forefinger that meant “get on with it.” She kept her hand beside her leg so only Harriet could see it.

“If we could come up with more money, Richard could buy back time,” Pat finally continued.

“What?” Lauren sounded confused.

“It’s because of the kind of crime,” Lisa explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “Dad took other people’s money. He pled guilty to avoid a trial, and the feds said if he could pay any of it back, they would reduce his time.”

“So if I rob a bank, but they get the money back, I do less time?” Lauren asked.

Harriet swatted at her and put a finger to her lips, motioning for her to hush.

“Was he trying to get other people to give him money?” she asked Pat.

“No! He wanted to get my inheritance from Marjory, and then we were going to leave.”

“Mom,” Lisa said. “Tell the truth.”

Pat went through her sighing and sagging and crying and nose-blowing again.

“Richard was trying to get my inheritance, but Lisa and I were going to tell Marjory what he was doing and beg for her mercy. We were planning on sending Richard to the store, and then while he was gone, I was going to ask Marjory if Lisa and I could live with her. Richard sold the house, our house, to buy time. He had it sold before he even talked to me about it.”

“How could he do that?” Harriet asked. “He didn’t forge your signature, did he?”

“No, it turns out I was never on the title.”

Mavis gave a little gasp.

“When he started making money,” Pat continued, “he bought a bigger house in a nicer neighborhood for me and Lisa, as a surprise. He said he was going to have my name put on the title after he gave it to me, but we got busy moving and then somehow never got around to it. He already had it sold before he told me about going to jail. He’d been hoping he could raise enough money that he wouldn’t have to do any time, but that was foolishness. He could have sold ten houses, and he still couldn’t have paid all the money back.”

“Was he embezzling from his company?” Harriet asked.

“Worse,” Lisa said.

“What could be worse than that?” Lauren asked.

“It was investment fraud,” Pat said.

“Like a Ponzi scheme?” Mavis asked.

“Exactly like that,” Pat said. “This is so embarrassing.” She put her hands over her face.

Mavis went over and put her arms around the sobbing woman.

“You’ll get through this,” she soothed. “You don’t have to solve it all right now. Let’s let it rest for tonight. We’ll eat a nice dinner, and then everyone can get a good night’s sleep, and you can start making a plan tomorrow.”