Connie opened the door to her tan stucco house when she saw Harriet pull into the driveway.
"Would you two like some tea?” she asked once they were inside.
"Sure,” Beth said.
"Things seem calmer than I expected,” Harriet said as Connie led them through the living room and into her spacious kitchen at the back of the house.
"Baby Kissa is a little dreamboat,” Connie said. “And Carla and Wendy went back to Aiden's. They went to feed the dog, and Aiden was just coming home, and they talked, and now she's back there."
"Where is Kissa?” Harriet asked.
"Rodrigo is pushing her around the neighborhood in the stroller,” she said and laughed. “That would be the new stroller he went out and bought this morning. She definitely has Grandpa Rod wrapped around her little finger."
"Makes you feel sorry for DeAnn and her family, doesn't it?” Harriet said.
"Mark my words,” Aunt Beth said sagely. “There's something not right about that situation."
Harriet explained the other reason they'd stopped by unannounced.
"I'll call Zoe right now and see if she knows more, but she already told me the forensic nurse had been called when the body came in."
Forensic training for nurses was a relatively new phenomenon in hospitals, having only been recognized as a specialty in the late 1990s. Their specialized job was to be sure all possible evidence was preserved when a person was brought into the hospital in a condition that suggested a crime had been committed. A major part of their caseload was battered women and children, but most of them were also ER nurses, so they used their skills whenever a suspicious case came through the doors.
Beth took over the tea preparations while Connie called her daughter-in-law.
"Uh-huh,” she said, after the usual greeting and a quick rundown of what they wanted. “Of course we wouldn't tell anyone…You're sure about that?…Okay, thanks, honey.” She hung up and turned to Harriet and Beth. “You have to swear you won't tell anyone else,” she told them, “She said the lab results showed levels of insulin that were way too high to be accidental. And she had needle marks on the back of her shoulder."
"I thought so,” Harriet said. “She was a diabetic."
"I'm not sure we can conclude that, honey.” Aunt Beth said. “Someone could have killed her with insulin even if she wasn't a diabetic."
"Yeah, but how much more convenient if she was and took injectable insulin? How could anyone prove she didn't accidentally overdose?"
"In the back of her shoulder?” Beth asked.
"That only matters if she doesn't have other needle marks on her."
"They'll figure it out,” Connie said.
Beth looked at Harriet.
"What?” Connie asked.
Harriet quickly explained the visit they'd had from the two detectives.
"They're grasping at straws,” Connie said. “Don't you worry-we all hardly knew the woman. And anyone who met that young woman could see she was troubled. They'll dig around in her background and find out what really happened."
"How about we talk quilt blocks for a minute,” Beth suggested, ending their speculation about Neelie.
"Let me show you what Lauren and I have been working on,” Connie said and headed for her sewing room. She was back a moment later with a small stack of blocks she handed to Harriet.
"These are great,” Harriet said and passed them one-by-one to Aunt Beth after she'd looked at them.
The two women had made several variations of doghouse blocks. They had started with a basic schoolhouse-type traditional block and then, in some cases, put miniature pieced blocks on the building side while on others they had fussy-cut dog faces from novelty fabric and stitched them in window frames in the side of the doghouse.
"We're still working on it,” Connie said. “We tried using landscape prints, so the grass was green and the sky had clouds, but they looked too busy. Lauren is working on that idea still, seeing if she can minimize the problem by making the blocks bigger.
"All of these look good,” Harriet said. “Don't show them to anyone."
Beth peered over the top of her reading glasses.
"Until we figure out how the Small Stitches are stealing our ideas, we need to be careful."
"Lauren and I were talking about that,” Connie said. “She thinks we should leave Sarah out of the next meeting."
"What?” Beth said.
"That's not a bad idea,” Harriet said.
"We can't start accusing our own members of being a spy,” Beth protested. “Especially without any evidence."
"Think about it a minute,” Connie said. “The Small Stitches meet where Sarah works. They could be getting into her stitching bag when she leaves the front desk."
"If they're clever, they could create a diversion so she'd have to leave the front,” Harriet added.
"Lauren and I were just thinking if we meet somewhere other than Pins and Needles, and leave Sarah out of the loop, we can find out if our ideas really are being stolen. We can check and see what they do next, and then we'll know. Lauren said she can make up a reason to go check the computers at the senior center when the Stitches have their next meeting."
Connie sat down and picked up the cup of tea Beth had made for her.
"Lauren and I were also talking about DeAnn's little girl,” she said, cutting off any further discussion of Sarah and spying. “I told her about the quilt the baby brought with her. She wants to research it and see where it leads."
"Sounds like a good idea,” Harriet said.
"Maybe you can call and tell her that, chiquita,” Connie said with a hopeful look.
"Fine, I'll call her when I get home."
Talk turned to a wedding quilt Connie was making for her niece and continued until they were interrupted by the arrival of Rodrigo and the now-sleeping Kissa. He wheeled the stroller gently into the kitchen.
"She's out cold,” he said in a stage whisper.
"She's the happiest little baby.” Connie shook her head. “Too bad DeAnn's new little one isn't the same."
"Maybe we should send Rodrigo over to work his magic.” Aunt Beth said.
"Rodrigo is good,” Connie said, and patted her husband's arm, “but Kissa is a goodnatured, happy little one. Unfortunately, the same can't be said for DeAnn's daughter."
Rodrigo wheeled Kissa through the doorway to the living room. He looked back at the women.
"Excuse me, I have a baby to take care of.” He was humming as he disappeared into the next room.
Harriet's brow furrowed, and her gaze became unfocused.
"What are you thinking?” Aunt Beth asked.
"I was wondering if DeAnn's daughter is having a language problem. She's old enough to be talking, but no one here can understand her and vice versa. Kissa doesn't have that problem because she isn't of an age to be speaking, is she?"
"Kissa should have a dozen words or so,” Connie said thoughtfully. “But, you're correct-Iloai should be using simple sentences by now. Maybe she's upset because she can't communicate."
"This must be a fairly common problem in international adoptions,” Harriet said. “I wonder how they handle it."
"We can check with Phyllis tomorrow,” Aunt Beth suggested.
"There might be another way,” Harriet said slowly.
Aunt Beth and Connie stared expectantly at her.
"Iloai is from Uganda, isn't she?"
"I think that's what they said,” Beth said.
"Aiden is fluent in the main language there. Even if Iloai is from a different region, the language would probably be similar enough the sound of it might be calming to her."
"It's worth a try,” Connie said. “At this point, DeAnn is probably willing to try anything."
"I'll give him a call and see if the waters are continuing to thaw,” Harriet said.
"I see,” said Connie. “You have ulterior motives.” She smiled at Harriet.
"I hadn't thought about that,” Harriet objected, but she could see neither her aunt nor Connie believed her.
Beth looked at her watch. “We better get going if you're going to talk to Lauren and Aiden."
"Thanks for the tea,” Harriet said.
"De nada,” Connie replied and ushered them out of the house.