It was foggy when Harriet opened the door the next morning. Scooter planted his feet and refused to move until she picked him up and carried him down the porch steps.
“Hey, you should be grateful you only have to go to the end of the street and back. I have to run three miles after you go back in.” She tugged gently on his thin leash, and he finally gave up and started walking. “Be glad you don’t belong to James. He’d be making you run races for publicity’s sake.”
Scooter began a slow trot as if to prove he could race if called upon to do so. Harriet laughed and wondered again how she’d survived for all those years without a dog.
They finished his walk and her run and shower in just over an hour. While she was running, she’d gone over in her mind all the stops she’d made the previous day and tried to remember where she’d parked at each place. If her memory was correct, she’d only been in secluded places twice. The first time was when she’d stopped at the dry cleaners—the shrubbery around the parking area would allow someone to approach the car without being seen, but she hadn’t been in the shop very long; and besides, she’d driven the car all day after that without incident.
The second time someone might have tampered with the car was when she’d gone to the grocery store. The parking lot had been crowded, and the only spot she’d found was in the outer row of spaces that faced a thick laurel hedge. She’d made it easier for whomever had done it by backing into her space, something she routinely did when driving the Beetle, since the trunk was in the front. That had to be when it happened. She made a mental note to see if the grocery store had security cameras.
“You guys guard the fortress,” she told her dog and cat as she dug in the kitchen closet for her purse then handed out a treat for each of them.”Be good,” she admonished and headed for the door.
Lauren pulled out the chair next to hers at the big table in the Steaming Cup.
“I saved you a seat.”
Harriet looped her purse strap over the chair back and sat. She looked down the length of the empty table.
“Where is everyone?”
“Connie’s going by to see your aunt, Robin had to go to her kids’ school to deliver a forgotten lunch, and Carla just pulled into the parking lot. I don’t know where Mavis is, but I’m guessing she’s at your aunt’s, too.”
“I guess my suggestion to let her sleep late fell on deaf ears.”
Their discussion was interrupted by the barista, delivering a large cup of hot cocoa to Harriet. As she sipped, the rest of the group arrived in rapid succession, including a member she hadn’t seen in nearly six months—Jenny Logan.
“Hey,” she said when Jenny came over with her cup of coffee. She stood up and leaned in for a hug. “I’m glad to see you back with the Threads.”
“I thought it was time to rejoin polite society,” she said and laughed. “I was visiting my son and daughter-in-law and the grand-prince last month, and when they asked me about my quilting and about all of you, I admitted I’d been staying home.” She sipped her coffee.
“Mark took me by the shoulders, looked me in the eyes and said, ‘Mom, the only one who cares about what happened when you were a teenager is you. Your friends have known you for years, and they miss the person they know and love.’”
Her eyes filled with tears. A quilt Jenny had made as a teenager had landed her in the middle of a murder investigation earlier in the year.
Harriet patted her on the back.
“He’s right, you know. Everyone has a past. What we care about is now, and we’ve missed you.”
Lauren pulled out the chair on the other side of her for Jenny.
“You don’t even want to know what I’ve been hiding in my past.” She looked at Harriet. “And no, I won’t tell you, now or anytime soon.”
“So, tell me what’s happened since I went offline.” Jenny looked at Harriet and then Lauren, who were staring at each other. Finally, they both laughed.
“Let’s just catch you up on the current crisis,” Harriet told her. “You probably read about the other stuff in the paper, and it would take our whole meeting time to explain.” She then proceeded to do just that.
“Poor DeAnn. That’s horrible, but I can’t say it’s a complete surprise. I got to know DeAnn’s mother from when she worked at the video store—we were both on a downtown beautification project committee. I know she was very worried about Molly’s obsession with Amber’s disappearance. When she got involved in the missing-and-exploited children project, she was going to some pretty scary places trying to find out who was taking kids.”
“We’re making quilts to give to some of Molly’s major donors at a fund-raiser she’d planned here in town,” Harriet said.
Lauren stirred her caramel latte with a plastic stir-stick.
“Molly was pressuring Harriet and me and the rest of the Threads, too, to try to solve the mystery of Amber’s disappearance. We tried to explain to her that we aren’t private detectives or anything, but she wasn’t hearing it.”
Jenny looked thoughtful.
“Is it safe to assume that now you feel guilty and are trying to figure out what happened to Molly?”
Harriet’s face turned pink.
“Something like that.”
Jenny set her purse under her chair and looked at Robin, who had settled in a chair at the head of the table.
“You’re still the group scribe?”
Robin smiled and pulled a yellow legal tablet and pen from her tote bag.
“Good to have you back, Jenny.”
Connie hurried in the door and swept by the counter to pick up a drink she must have phone-ordered.
“Sorry I’m late. I had to stop by Beth’s to drop off a clay ice pack I have. And before you all ask, she’s sore and tired, but otherwise okay; and she hasn’t heard anything from the police about who did this to her.”
Harriet already knew this, since she’d called her aunt on her way to the coffee shop. Still, it was good to have someone report who had actually laid eyes on her, in spite of the fact they’d all disturbed her aunt’s rest.
“We should get on with the matter at hand,” she said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”
“There’s no shortage of suspects,” Lauren said.
Robin drew a line across the top of the page.
“Who is our top suspect?”
Harriet propped both elbows on the table and clasped her hands.
“If you look only at her current situation and don’t mix in her job or her past, I’d put Josh Phillips at the top of the list.”
Lauren swept her long blond hair away from her face in a signature move.
“Well, playing by those rules, the new poet friend should go up there, too. You know how those crime shows always tell us our nearest and dearest are our greatest danger.”
Connie pursed her lips.
“If you use that logic, we have to add DeAnn and her parents, and I don’t think anyone wants to do that.”
Carla’s cheeks turned pink.
“You don’t really think DeAnn would kill her sister, do you?”
Connie reached over and patted her hand.
“No, I don’t. That family was more concerned with helping Molly than anything else.”
Jenny cleared her throat.
“Are any of the people who were suspects when she was little still around?”
“Leo Tabor,” Mavis offered.
Harriet and Lauren looked at each other.
“We talked to him,” Harriet began. “And anything is possible, but I…” She glanced at Lauren again. “…we don’t think he had anything to do with Amber Price’s death. His only crime was trying to get her parents to keep better track of her.”
“James’s mother and her friend think a guy named Gary Alexander may have been involved in Amber’s disappearance. He lived on the street and had gone to prison for domestic battery,” Harriet said.
Robin wrote his name down.
“I’m not sure criminals switch their pattern like that, but violent is violent, I guess.”
Carla tilted her head slightly and looked at Robin.
“Most people who commit crimes do the same crime,” Robin explained, “or follow a progression of increasingly violent versions of the same thing. A kid who steals candy in grade school may shoplift candy bars in junior high school and then rob houses in high school, but he wouldn’t shoplift and then molest children and then set fires. At least, not usually.”
Harriet sat back in her chair and thought for a minute.
“What about the guy in the homeless camp who found Molly back then. I think he’s still around. If he murdered Amber and hit Molly, and she went back to talk to him, maybe he finished what he started. It’s possible he was in the process of killing Molly twenty years ago, and someone interrupted him. He could have said he found her when really he was the person who took her there in the first place.”
“What’s his name,” Robin asked.
“Max,” Harriet replied.
“I think a lot of people refer to him as Mad Max,” Lauren added.
Robin added his name to the list.
“Do we know about her work?” Carla asked. “Maybe she found a missing child, and someone went to jail.”
Lauren leaned forward so she could see Carla.
“Good point, Grasshopper. I can go to the local office of Molly’s non-profit and see if I can sweet talk them into taking a look at her computer.”
Carla’s face turned a deeper shade of red.
“I’d like to have a chat with the psychic she contacted,” Harriet said.
“The psychic wouldn’t be in business long if he or she went around killing clients,” Connie argued.
Harriet laughed.
“You’re assuming she met with a real psychic. The killer could have offered his services as a psychic, and we all know Molly would have jumped at the chance.”
Connie’s shoulders sagged.
“You’re right.”
The group sat in silent thought. Robin set her pen down.
“This is off-topic, but have the police followed up on where Juana was when your aunt’s car was tampered with?”
“I haven’t heard anything,” Harriet said and looked down the table to Connie and Mavis.
“Beth hadn’t heard anything when I was there this morning,” Mavis said. “And while we’re off topic, how are we doing on the quilts for the benefit?”
Harriet blew a breath out and leaned back in her chair.
“I’ve got the one Mavis, Carla, Lauren and I did on the machine now. The Aunt Beth, Robin, DeAnn and Connie one is prepped and ready to go on the machine when the first one is finished. I’m still waiting on the third one.”
Carla pulled a plastic bag with quilt squares in it from her purse.
“I’ve got my blocks done for that one.”
“I’m finished with mine, too,” Robin said. “And I’ll go over and get whatever DeAnn’s done from her and finish what I need to.”
“We’ve got a few days for that one,” Harriet looked up at the ceiling and calculated in her head. “Today is Tuesday. It’ll take most of the week to finish the two I have. If the third one is ready to go on as soon as I finish, I can get it done by next Monday or Tuesday. That’ll give us the rest of the week to bind them. And people can start binding the first two when they each come off the machine.”
Jenny held up her hand as if asking permission to speak.
“Since I haven’t done anything, I can finish DeAnn’s blocks and sew it all together if you want. I can help bind, too.”
“Thanks, that will help a lot,” Robin said. “I picked up some extra yoga classes this week so one of my fellow teachers can go on a well-deserved vacation.”
“No problem,” Jenny said and smiled. “And while I’m catching up on things…” She wiggled her eyebrows up and down and looked at Harriet. “Is James, whose mother you quoted earlier, the hottie chef with the restaurant on the cove?”
Lauren sighed.
“One does need a scorecard to keep up with Harriet’s love life.”
Harriet blushed.
“I’ve been helping James with his racing wiener dog. I’m just subbing for his sister. Of course, it’s given us a chance to get to know each other better.”
“Yeah, like he’s taken you home to meet the parents already,” Lauren said.
“It was only his mother, and he knew I wanted to know what her friend Lois knew about Amber’s disappearance. Lois lived on Amber’s street back then.”
Jenny smiled.
“It must be hard spending time with a good-looking guy who can cook.”
Harriet sighed.
“He’d be the first one to tell you he doesn’t have time for a relationship. He’s married to the restaurant.”
Everyone but Carla groaned and then smiled.
“That is such a line,” Lauren finally said. “He’s trying to get you to lower your guard so he can move in. He knows you’re on the rebound from Aiden. Tom isn’t as much of a threat as long as he’s got geography problems. I don’t see that changing as long as he’s running his mother’s art school and retreat center and still working his day job.”
“You seem to know a lot about what’s happening with Tom,” Harriet countered.
“Ahh, you forget, my sibling works there,” Lauren said smugly.
“No matter what you think, neither James nor I are looking for a relationship right now.”
“The best relationships start that way,” Connie whispered loudly to Mavis.
“I heard that,” Harriet told them.
“Okay,” Robin said. “I need to get going. Who’s going to do what?”
Lauren took out her tablet and woke it up.
“I said I’d see what I can find out about any possible work problems Molly might have had.” She tapped a note onto her calendar, reminding herself what she’d agreed to.
Connie gathered her empty cup and put her crumpled napkin into it.
“Mavis and I are scheduled to deliver food to the homeless camp tomorrow from the church pantry. We can talk to Joyce Elias and see what she knows about Max’s whereabouts on the night in question.”
Robin jotted down the assignments and then wrote her own name.
“I’ll dig in the court records and see what I can find out about Gary Alexander. Anyone else?”
Carla coughed and cleared her throat.
“I could talk to the psychic.”
“Oh, honey,” Connie said. “That could be dangerous.”
“When I was young, my mom dated a carny. We traveled with the carnival for a whole year. Madam Geni taught me some things about how to fake people out. She read fortunes, but it’s the same idea.”
Carla had probably been in more dangerous situations than the whole group together, Harriet thought.
“Look up the psychic on the Internet first. If he or she has a website or advertises their services, it should be okay,” Harriet said and looked at Connie and Mavis for approval.
“I can agree to that,” Mavis said.
“Since I’ve never seen the poet, I can go to the bookstore and ask after him. I will also go to his real job.” Jenny looked at Harriet. “Didn’t you say he worked at that convenience store out on the highway?”
“That’s right. And while you all are doing your assignments, I’ll see if I can track down Josh Phillips. I’d like to know if we can establish whether he was still in town last night. Molly’s workplace may know, plus I can check at the motel.”
Foggy Point only had one motel, so she didn’t need to say anything more about it.
“I’m going to go by the police station and find out if Morse or anyone else will tell me if they were able to check Juana’s tracker and see if she was near my aunt’s car. If Morse is in, I’ll ask if she knows anything she can share about Molly.”
“Good idea,” Lauren said.
Robin wrote the final assignments on her pad and stuffed it back into her purse with her pen.
“Shall we meet again on Thursday?” she asked.
“How about we meet at Jorge’s for lunch on Thursday,” Mavis suggested. She turned to Harriet. “You can bring the first quilt for us to start binding at the same time.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’m going to swing by the PD on my way home, and then I need to get stitching. See you all Thursday.”