Mavis drew the drapes in her living room and retreated to the kitchen. “You try to get some sleep, honey. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."
Harriet reclined the chair, adjusted the pillow and fell into a deep sleep. She woke two hours later when the doorbell rang. Mavis shuffled to the door, and when she opened it, Harriet could see Officer Nguyen.
"Is Ms. Harriet Truman here?"
Mavis nodded and led him into the living room.
"You are one hard lady to find,” he said. “I'm Officer Nguyen. I was at your house earlier this week."
"Yes,” Harriet said. “I remember. How can I help you?"
"Dr. Pattee reported you came in with a head wound last night. He said it looked like you'd been hit with the proverbial blunt object. Strictly speaking, he only has to report gunshot wounds, but Jefferson County is a small hospital in the middle of several small communities. We all work together.” He paused. “Is there anything you'd like to tell me about? This is your second incident in four days. That makes you a one-woman crime spree around here."
"I really don't know what I can tell you,” Harriet said. “I went to find someone in an apartment down at the docks. I shouldn't have gone there by myself, and I paid the price. I don't think there's any big mystery."
"It's true you should have known better than to go down to the docks alone, but you were still assaulted. It's a crime, and you need to report it."
"Fine, as long as I can do it from this chair."
Officer Nguyen sat in a dining room chair Mavis placed next to the recliner. He opened a black leather flip-top notebook.
"Tell me what happened,” he said. “The long version."
She told the story again, including approximate times. He took notes and asked a few questions. When they were both satisfied she could recall nothing more, he closed the notebook and stood up.
"This isn't much to go on, but at least it will be on the record if anything else happens. And if you want my advice, until we figure out what's going on, you should stay here with Mrs. Willis."
Mavis appeared again from the kitchen and showed him out.
"Well, that's settled, then. You'll stay."
"I'll stay until my head stops spinning, but I have a cat to feed and Aunt Beth's business to run. I can't stay in hiding indefinitely."
"We'll see about that.” Mavis glanced at the clock. “I'm going to go rinse off and get dressed, and then we can go back to your house so you can get some clothes and get ready for the memorial. You can either put out food for the cat, or if it would make you feel better, you can bring him along."
Harriet closed her eyes and slipped into a drug-induced sleep until Mavis came out and awakened her, dressed in black and holding her purse and car keys.
Fred was frantic when Harriet opened the kitchen door. She immediately put food in his dish, but he kept weaving between her legs and meowing. She groaned as she bent down to pick him up. He began to purr.
"Did you miss me?” she asked, and he head-butted her in reply.
"Let me talk to the cat,” Mavis ordered. “You go take a hot shower and get into something black."
Not a problem, Harriet thought.
She came back down stairs twenty minutes later in the same black dress she'd worn on her two outings with Harold. This time she'd draped a large black silk scarf with a tiny grey pattern over one shoulder and held it in place with a black enameled pin.
Fred was reluctant to be left behind, but the two women retreated to the studio and escaped out that door. Mavis drove them to Pins and Needles and parked in front of the store.
"Honey, are you all right?” Connie said and pulled Harriet into a hug as she walked in the door. Harriet's head hurt too much to protest. “My daughter-in-law works the night shift at the hospital. She told me Aiden brought you into the emergency room last night with a head injury.” She held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay, mija?"
"I'm fine-really. It was just a little bump on the head."
"It's a goose egg, Connie,” Mavis interjected. “Luckily, she inherited her aunt's hard head. She's going to stay with me for a few days, just to be sure."
"Good,” Connie said. “You listen to Mavis and do what she says."
"I plan on it.” Harriet looked around for something to drink so she could take a pain pill. All this hugging and moving was making her head hurt again.
She noticed Carla in the small classroom folding fat quarters she had just cut.
"I'm going to get a drink of water,” she said and headed for the breakroom. She got her water then stopped in the training room.
"Carla,” she said, “can I talk to you a minute?"
Carla got a deer-in-the-headlights look but nodded assent.
"Do you know where Misty is? I'd really like to talk to her. I went to her house and someone knocked me out. I think she's in trouble, and I'd like to help her."
Carla looked down. “She came to my house yesterday,” she said to the floor. “She wasn't doing too good."
"In what way?"
"She really needs her medicine, and she don't have any. I told her to go to the free clinic for now and that I could help her on payday. I couldn't tell if she was going to do it or not."
"Tell her I have some fabric for her baby quilt and tell her I will get her some medicine."
"I don't know where she is. She's hearing voices. She said a man is coming to get her, and then she took off. I don't know if she'll be back or not."
"Listen, can you call me if she shows up again? I'm serious-I'll get her medicine for her. I'll get her enough to last until she gets a new job."
Carla looked up at her with clear blue eyes. “I'll try,” she said.
Harriet returned to the group of women. DeAnn was relating a bit of gossip about a woman named Barbara whom Harriet had yet to meet when Lauren came in.
Robin put her arm around Lauren's shoulders. “I heard about your quilt. I'm so sorry. Can I do anything to help?"
Lauren glared at Harriet. “You can't, but she can,” she said and gestured toward her. “I stayed up all night and repaired my quilt. There isn't time for me to re-quilt it on my sewing machine, but it wouldn't take anytime at all on the long-arm."
"Fine,” Harriet said. “I'll do it. Right after the memorial service."
Mavis started to protest, but she silenced her with a glance.
"Where is my quilt?” Sarah Ness demanded as she entered the store.
"My day is complete,” Harriet muttered to Mavis.
"I went to your place of business and waited and waited and you never showed up,” Sarah yelled.
Harriet's head began to pound in earnest. “Could you please lower your voice?” she asked. “Your quilt is done. I just need to take it off the machine frame."
"You leave her alone,” Mavis scolded. “She hit her head and had to spend the night in the hospital, that's why she wasn't there for your appointment."
"I can't believe there weren't two minutes to call me,” Sarah complained. “You probably waited forever in the waiting room."
Mavis glared at her. Sarah finally noticed and stopped talking. She stuck her bottom lip out. Mavis sighed. Her third son had raised pouting to an art-form; Sarah was a rank amateur.
Sarah looked at Mavis as she spoke to Harriet.
"I'm coming over as soon as this memorial thing is over. Have my quilt ready.” She turned her back and flounced off to the breakroom.
"Don't you worry about her, honey.” Mavis rubbed Harriet's arm. “Okay, everyone,” she said to the group. “Who's driving, and who needs a ride?"
The women quickly divided themselves among three cars and drove toward the strait to the Unitarian Church. The gravel parking lot was half-full when they pulled up to the low, glass-fronted building. Harriet hoped the chapel inside was more inviting than the cold exterior and was not disappointed.
They entered an open reception area. Wooden racks held colorful pamphlets with titles like “Why Should I Try Your Church,” “Securing the Future” and “The Front Steps.” A somber-looking woman with long grey hair pulled back and held with a silver clasp was handing out funeral programs in front of two ornately carved wooden doors. Mavis looked at her watch.
"We're a few minutes early,” Michelle said as a lanky blond man in a black suit came into the vestibule from a hallway that led off to the left. Mavis walked up to her and clasped her hand.
"I'm so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Jackson, I'm so sorry to see you again under such unhappy circumstances,” she added to the blond man.
Harriet assumed Jackson was Michelle's husband.
Bertrand de LaFontaine emerged from the same hallway, accompanied by a small, pale woman with red-rimmed eyes and two equally pale young women who had to be his daughters.
Mavis and DeAnn went to the family.
"I'm so sorry for you loss,” Mavis repeated, and took his hand in her two. “Our group won't be the same without our most prolific prizewinner."
"She loved making beautiful quilts. That and the business were her life,” Bertrand said.
"She loved her family, too,” DeAnn added.
"Did that show ever decide what they were going to do about Avey's quilt?” Bertrand asked. “If they aren't going to display it, we'd like to get it back. Some of the employees want to put up a memorial display in the building lobby. They asked for one of her quilts to be the backdrop. I thought since that show quilt was the last one she ever made, it would be the right choice, if we can get it back."
"Harriet and I just went to Tacoma to get it-"
"Uncle Bertie, the chaplain needs to speak to you,” Michelle interrupted.
Bertrand pulled his hand from Mavis's with a look of apology and followed Michelle. Lauren and Robin were deep in conversation with the program woman. Harriet looked around at the clusters of people and felt alone. The one family member she knew wasn't in evidence. Her head was pounding again.
She touched Mavis on the arm. “I'm going to go find the restroom."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just want to freshen up a little.” She turned away before Mavis could protest.
She peeked down the hallway the family had come out of and saw a small sign sticking out of the wall at the other end. It had to be a restroom. She walked slowly down the hall, trying not to jostle her head. The sign turned out to be for a library, but the hallway angled to the right, so she continued on. Finally, at the end of the second hallway, she found the women's room and went in.
Two large white baskets filled with lavender and pink silk flowers were to the right of the door. Just beyond was a large open closet with a variety of choir robes, aprons and worn-looking flannel shirts splattered with paint, all on wire hangers. A box marked CANDLES sat on the shelf above the closet pole. A vanity table with hairspray, deodorant, cotton balls, breath spray and hand lotion was to the left of the door.
She went through an interior door that led into the actual lavatory, dampened a paper towel with cool water and held it to her forehead. She went back out to the dressing room area and sat on the vanity chair. She rubbed lotion into her hands then shut her eyes, propped her elbows on the table and rested her head in her lavender-scented palms. She took a few deep breaths and willed her head to stop hurting.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been in the room when she heard a noise in the hallway. She knew Mavis would worry if she didn't return, so she got up and headed back to the vestibule.
"Calm down,” she heard a male voice say from an open doorway. She flattened against the wall and inched closer to the source of the sound.
"You don't get it,” Michelle said, her words broken by sobs.
"So, tell me,” Aiden said. “I get that Mom was out of money. I don't understand it, but I get it. But you're a lawyer; your husband is an environmental scientist. You must make plenty of money between you."
"It's simple, really. You see, it turns out that it doesn't matter how much money you make, it's all about how much you spend."
"So stop spending so much."
"Stop spending so much,” she mimicked in a snotty little-girl voice. “How am I supposed to do that? You tell me how to stop spending. Do I take the girls out of the only school they've ever known? Or do I let them come home alone after school and sit around and watch television all night? Or should I resign from the club, so we can all get fat and die of heart disease? Are you suggesting I can go to my job in one of the most prestigious law firms in Seattle in thrift store clothes? Take my clients to lunch in a used Toyota?” She started to sob again.
"Stop crying,” Aiden said. “I told you I'd take care of it. Just give me another week. The bank needs to process the paperwork. Then we'll both have all the money we could ever need."
Harriet stepped away from the wall and went back to the entry hall. She'd heard enough.
Harold had arrived while she was gone.
"Harriet,” he said when she came back into the foyer. “I'm sorry to be seeing you under such unfortunate circumstances."
"It's very sad,” she said. “I suppose we all expect to bury our parents someday, but I think we hope it will be when we and they are all very old and that our parents will have gone gently in the night."
"It has been quite a shock for the family,” Harold said. “Say, I spoke to James earlier. He said he's trying a new ‘Death by Chocolate’ dessert recipe and suggested we might come by and try it out. I'll need to make an appearance at the coffee the church ladies are hosting after the burial, but then maybe we could slip away for some dessert and coffee. If you think it's inappropriate, considering why we're here, I'll understand, and we can do it some other time."
"No, I think it's a fine idea. I just need to get a project from one of the other people. It was damaged at the quilt show, and I need to help with the repair."
"I'll wait to hear from you, then,” he said, and pantomimed tipping a hat. Then he turned to speak to Bertrand and his wife.
She looked around the room and located the Loose Threads.
"There you are,” Mavis said as she joined them. “Jenny just went to the ladies room to try to find you. It's about time to go in and get a seat."
The carved wooden pews were filling up. Lauren and DeAnn were holding a space for the group. Harriet filed in between Mavis and Jenny, who had returned, and sat down on the hard wooden seat.
The pews were adorned with clusters of cream-colored lilies and pale yellow roses. Large baskets of hothouse azaleas, hydrangeas and mixed bouquets of white chrysanthemums, baby's breath and green sword fern filled the area behind Avanell's closed casket. Every business and association in Foggy Point and beyond must have sent an offering.
An ornately carved oak table at the back of the chapel held a basket that was overflowing with condolence cards. A matching basket held envelopes and cash. A small sign noted that donations would go to Avanell's scholarship fund for deserving local students.
The chaplain came in, and a hush fell over the group. Sarah Ness rose and went to the front of the church. Harriet wasn't sure why she was surprised. Being annoying didn't preclude the possibility of having a beautiful voice.
Sarah sang a moving rendition of “Take Me Home to Jesus” and sat back down. The chaplain read several Psalms then introduced Marcel, who delivered a short eulogy. Sarah sang “Amazing Grace,” and it was over.
People were offered the option of filing by the closed casket and about half did. Marcel announced from the back of the room that everyone was invited to join the family in the cemetery behind the church for the graveside portion of the service.
A fine mist had been falling earlier but had ended sometime during the service. The funeral attendees exited the church into a pale sunlit afternoon. The cemetery was separated from the church by a copse of trees. Pea gravel on the path crunched under Harriet's feet as she walked with Mavis through the trees, up a small rise and into the grassy burial area.
A blue canopy with white chairs underneath had been erected at the far side of the lawn, a mound of earth covered with sheets of Astroturf just beyond the seating area. The first row of chairs surrounded a large rectangular hole in the ground. The family were already seating themselves when she and Mavis arrived.
"If it's okay with you, I think I'll stand at the back,” she said.
"I know this is hard for you,” Mavis said. “You do what you need to do."
Harriet stood behind the last row of chairs. Darcy came over and joined her.
"It's really sad, you know? My mom used to work at The Vitamin Factory when I was in middle school. Avanell had a deal where employee's kids could come to the factory and work on their homework in the breakroom. She hired teenagers to act as tutors. They got scholarship money, and we kept out of trouble. Avanell would buy healthy snacks for us, too. She was just a cool lady."
"Has there been any progress on her case?"
"Not really."
Before she could say more, Michelle left the front row and stormed down the short aisle.
"What are they waiting for?” she demanded of Darcy. She glared at Harriet and strode down the path toward the chapel.
"What is her deal?” Harriet asked. “I know I found her mother, but she gets ruder every time I see her. I'm sure she's upset about her mom, but it seems to be more than that where I'm concerned."
"According to Officer Nguyen, she claims Avanell stayed late at work to finish binding her quilt so she could get it to you for the show. If you believe the burglary theory, and Michelle does, then it follows that if Avanell hadn't been at work finishing her quilt she wouldn't have been there when the thieves arrived. She thinks her mom stayed at her office to finish it because she was almost done, and her office was closer to your place than her home was."
"She wasn't working on her quilt that night,” Harriet corrected. “Aiden already had her quilt. In fact, her quilt was at the dry cleaners Wednesday.” She related to Darcy how Aiden had used the quilt and the resulting repair and cleaning.
"That's really weird. Michelle obviously wasn't here, so she'd have no direct knowledge of what happened,” Darcy said. “I wonder why she thought Avanell was stitching."
"Her pincushion and some of the backing and binding scraps were in her office. Avanell did work on her quilt in her office Tuesday. Maybe Michelle just assumed since the sewing stuff was in the office, Avanell must have been working on it on Wednesday.” Harriet worried, too late, that Darcy might wonder how she would know that, but Darcy didn't seem to notice.
"In fact, it probably doesn't matter what she was or wasn't doing at work. I don't believe it was a random robbery-Foggy Point just doesn't have this type of crime. We're not big enough to attract the kind of people who plan this type theft. We have our share of drug problems down by the docks, but those people don't usually stray more than a half-dozen blocks in each direction. If they're stealing to feed a habit, they aren't doing it in Foggy Point."
"Still, it's kind of weird she's telling people Avanell was sewing. One of the factory workers told me Avanell often worked packing vitamins to save on paying overtime."
"Maybe Michelle doesn't want people to know about Avanell's financial difficulties."
"Was Avanell having money trouble?"
"I'm sorry, I've said too much already."
A short man in a dark suit came out of the trees and went up the aisle. He spoke in hushed tones to Avanell's family. Bertrand, Marcel and Aiden got up and followed the man back to the chapel. A red-faced Michelle passed them at the clearing.
"The tractor that is supposed to pull Momma's casket up here broke down,” she said loudly enough for the group to hear. “They are going to have to carry her up.” She plopped in her chair in a distinctly unladylike manner.
The crowd was growing restless by the time Harriet spotted the casket, carried by Avanell's sons, her brother and three men from the funeral home. The chaplain followed, and began a prayer as soon as the casket was in place at the front of the group of mourners.
Avanell was lowered into the ground, and family members each rose and one by one threw either a single rose or a handful of dirt on the casket. Harriet saw Mavis dab at her eyes with a tissue. She looked away and caught a brief flash of motion at the tree line.
She turned and surveyed it. Misty stood beside the trunk of a large maple.
"I'm going to go find something to drink,” Harriet said and rattled the bottle of pain pills that were in her pocket. She turned toward the church, and Darcy drifted over to a group of women Harriet didn't recognize.
Harriet circled back and moved silently toward the path and the tree beyond.
"Misty,” she whispered. Then, when she was away from the group, she said it again louder. “Misty? It's okay if you came to Avanell's funeral. Can I talk to you? I can help.” She kept talking. The woman had to be on the other side of the tree. “I have some fabric at my house for your baby's quilt. And I can help you get your medicine."
"I don't need medicine” came from behind the tree.
"I can help you make a quilt for your baby.” She tried to sound soothing. “You must have liked Avanell. I know she liked you."
"She said Tony shouldn't fire me,” Misty said. “She said I wasn't stealing.” She began to sing. “Hush, little baby, don't say a word…"
"Misty, did you go back to the factory after Tony fired you?"
"Mama's gonna buy you a mockin'bird…"
"Misty, this is real important. Were you at the factory when Avanell got hurt?"
Misty's eyes got big, and she started making a noise that sounded like hum-mum, repeated over and over. She turned and ran down the path into the woods.
Harriet debated following but didn't want to draw attention to the woman. She returned to the mourners.
"How are you holding up, honey?” Mavis asked.
"My head hurts, but no worse than it did this morning."
"If you want to leave, just say the word."
"I sort of told Harold I would go get coffee with him after this. I told him I had to get Lauren's quilt first."
"I can get the quilt, but are you sure you should be going out?"
"He promised me Death by Chocolate."
"What on earth is that? It sounds dangerous."
"I hope so. It's a dessert experiment by his friend James, the chef."
"Let's go eat our cookie and drink some tea and then you can get on to your ‘chocolate death’ or whatever it is."
The Loose Threads reassembled and returned as a group to the church reception. The tea was weak and the cookies doughy, but it was a kind gesture by the women of Avanell's congregation. Lauren had been one of the drivers, so she got the quilt from her trunk and brought it in to Harriet.
"Here,” she said and thrust it into Harriet's hands. “When can I get it back?"
Harold chose that moment to join them. “Do you need more time?” he asked.
"Just let me put this in the car,” she told him then turned to Lauren. “I should have it done sometime this evening. I'll have to see how much area has to be done before I can be more specific. I'll call you when I get it on the machine."
Lauren walked away without so much as a fare-thee-well. Harriet hadn't expected a thank-you but the woman could at least have been civil.
Lauren reminded her of a girl named Jeanne she'd gone to school with when she'd been dropped here in junior high. Harriet knew now that Jeanne had simply been protecting her territory-she had the other girls in their class convinced she was the most sophisticated, cutting-edge seventh grader Foggy Point had ever seen. She'd studied French the whole summer prior, and she would break into the language whenever a cute boy was in sight.
On her first day, Harriet made the mistake of responding to one of her comments, also in French. It was automatic. She hadn't done it on purpose. She hadn't been there long enough to realize that French was reserved for Jeanne and the boys, and no one else. Jeanne never spoke to her again, and for the rest of the year, no other girls did, either, if Jeanne was in the room.
Her problem with Lauren was that she hadn't done anything to the woman. There was no reason for her to be the focus of Lauren's anger. She hadn't destroyed anything. Lauren should be grateful she had been at the show and able to bring the damaged quilt back right away. She was going to point that out when Lauren came to pick it up.
"Here, honey, I'll take that,” Mavis said when Lauren was out of earshot. “You know you shouldn't be working, with your head and all."
"Is something wrong?” Harold asked.
"Nothing a little chocolate won't help,” Harriet replied.
"I'll go get the car and pull it up front."
He left, and she saw Aiden standing across the room, picking at a cookie. She walked over to his side.
"I'm really sorry about your mother,” she said.
Tears filled his pale eyes. “It really sucks,” he said.
Her heart went out to him, but she couldn't help but wonder just how far a brother would go to help his sister.
"You want me to get a movie and bring it over to Mavis's later?"
She didn't reply. Her pulse raced as she rapidly tried out and then rejected methods of ditching Harold. Could she drop to the floor in a fake faint? No, they might try to take her to the hospital. She couldn't plead a headache; she'd already said chocolate would help her headache. Her head throbbed.
"What?” he asked. “You have a hot date or something?"
"I have to fix Lauren's quilt,” she said. She saw Harold's El Dorado pull up in front of the fellowship hall. Aiden's gaze followed hers.
"Is he waiting for you?"
"He asked me to go for coffee, and I said yes. His friend is a chef and is making a special dessert."
"You sound like you know the guy. Have you been out with him before?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but yes, we went to dinner."
"The Chamber meeting, right?” he said.
"No, dinner."
"So… what? You're dating Harold?"
She could see the disbelief in his eyes.
She put her hand on his arm. “It's just coffee."
He was still staring at her when she turned, walked out the front door and got into Harold's waiting car.
"Is the boy all right?” Harold asked.
"He's upset about his mother. Do you have any idea what form Death by Chocolate takes?
"Let's go find out,” he said, and turned his car toward Smuggler's Cove.