Harriet's sleep was punctuated by hourly wake-up visits by the night nurse. The nurse would take her temperature and blood pressure, and by the time she fell asleep again it would be time for the next hourly check.
Each time she woke she saw Aiden, who didn't seem to be bothered at all by the night nurse, as evidenced by the slow, steady breathing she could hear coming from his chair.
When grey light filtered through the slatted blinds on the narrow window in her room she gave up all pretenses. The next time the nurse came in, Harriet was sitting on the side of the bed, her legs dangling over the side.
"Okay, I'm finished with this game,” she announced.
Aiden sat up. “What's going on?” he asked, and looked around as if he didn't know where he was.
"I'm out of here, that's what's going on. Ouch!” Harriet said, and winced as her feet hit the floor.
The nurse took a good look at her and went for the door.
"I'll call the doctor,” she said as she left the room.
The doctor came in, pronounced Harriet able to travel, gave her a prescription for pain medication and instructed her to return for a check-up in one week. Aiden brought his car around to the front entrance, and a nurse wheeled her into the misty morning.
"Where to now, milady?” he asked when he had her safely buckled into the passenger seat.
"Home,” she said. “I just want a hot shower and a couple of hours sleep in a bed that doesn't have a plastic sheet."
"Do you think that's wise?"
"Right now I don't think anything."
"First someone breaks into your studio and wrecks everything, and then someone whacks you on the head and leaves you for dead. I'm no detective, but I have to think someone isn't too happy with you. The last thing I think you should be is a sitting duck, and that's exactly what you'll be if you go home."
"I don't really have a lot of options. Besides, I have a business to run."
"Let me think a minute,” he said. “My studio would be a little cramped."
"And not obvious at all,” Harriet said. “Sarah Ness would have it all over town before my bag was unpacked."
"There's tons of room at my mom's house."
"Oh, yeah. That would be real comfortable for all of us. Your sister hates me. You hate your uncle. We could have a great time together."
"Have you got a better idea?"
"Yeah, I go home to Fred, and you go back to your family.” She leaned her head against the car window. “And I really can't talk about it anymore."
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Aiden was guiding his car down the wooded drive that led to Mavis Willis's cottage.
"I can't just drop in on Mavis like this,” Harriet protested in a voice barely above a whisper. “It's only what o'clock in the morning besides."
"It is seven-fifteen, and we both know Mavis gets up earlier than that."
Mavis greeted them at the door in a plaid flannel bathrobe that had once belonged to her husband.
"What have we here?” she said and took Harriet's free arm. Aiden let go of her other one and followed them into the sitting room of the cottage.
"Sit,” Mavis said, and guided Harriet into a tan corduroy recliner. “Go get a pillow from the bed in that room next to the bathroom,” she ordered Aiden and pointed toward a short hallway.
He returned with a down pillow, and Mavis gently wedged it under Harriet's head, taking the pressure off the lump and relieving her pain considerably.
"Go put the kettle on,” she continued in that voice mothers use and kids of every age obey without question.
"Now,” she said to Harriet as soon as he was out of earshot, “tell me what happened before he gets back."
Harriet told her the basics: she gave Lauren her quilt then tried to find Misty; Misty didn't answer the door, it opened and Harriet stepped in. The next thing she knew, she was in her car with a big headache. She drove home. Aiden saw her driving erratically, followed her and took her to the hospital. She finished with the fact that Aiden didn't think she should go home.
"I'm not sure I agree with his theory about your safety, but my boys played football and I do know that after a blow to the head you shouldn't be alone for a few days. You can stay in my spare room for a day or two until we're sure your head is okay."
"Water's ready,” Aiden called from the kitchen. Mavis went in and returned in a few minutes with a tray loaded with a pot of tea, two mugs, a sugar bowl and small pitcher of cream.
"I better take off,” Aiden said.
"Thank you,” Harriet told him. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead.
"No problem,” he said and went out the door.
"I'm telling you, that boy is sweet on you."
"I'm not so sure about that,” she said, but in a small corner of her heart, she hoped it was true.
"He sure has been handy when you've needed a friend."
"I know, but I can't help but think about what Lauren said yesterday. You know, when we were talking about who stood to gain from Avanell's death, and she said Aiden was the one who inherited money when Avanell died."
"You can't believe gossip like that."
"But who was right there when the studio was broken into? And who found me after Misty's place? Aiden-both times. And he's been on me like a glove. He finds a reason to come over almost every day."
"That's not unusual if the boy has a crush on you."
"Even that doesn't make sense. I'm at least ten years older than him. He's a young professional with a bright future. He could have any woman in Foggy Point. Why me?"
"Let's look at the other side. Why would Aiden break into your studio and trash it? And why would he hit you on the head only to turn around and bring you to the hospital when you came to?"
"I think Misty is the key to this,” Harriet said. “Nobody's seen her since she was fired from her job at The Vitamin Factory on Tuesday. I take that back-Carla saw her right after that. Then my studio was broken into, after Misty went missing, with Avanell being killed that same night, maybe at the same time even. Now, when I try to find Misty, I get hit on the head. It has to be connected."
"But what does any of that have to do with Aiden?"
"Misty must know something about Avanell's death,” Harriet decided.
"That doesn't explain your studio, and maybe what she knows about Avanell's death is that she killed her. Did you think of that?"
"I haven't figured out how the studio fits into anything yet, but I don't believe in coincidence. And I have a hard time believing Misty would kill Avanell. Carla said Avanell had helped Misty."
"But Avanell didn't keep her from being fired. Maybe she was mad at her,” Mavis suggested.
"When Carla came to get Avanell at lunch, she said Tony fired Misty. It's not clear that Misty saw Avanell. Tony fired her, not Avanell."
"Here, drink your tea,” Mavis said, and handed her a mug. “We aren't going to solve this right now, and you shouldn't be getting worked up about it while your head is hurting.” She picked up a lap quilt and tucked it around her. “Try to rest a while. Then, if you feel well enough, we'll get cleaned up and go meet the group at Pins and Needles to go to Avanell's memorial."
Harriet couldn't help but notice the pattern on the lap quilt. It was a sawtooth-style block made in Civil War fabrics. The pattern's name was Kansas Troubles.