"Yes," Nancy said as casually as possible. "You said you hadn't sold any of your quilts," I said.
Maggie's head jerked toward Nancy. "That isn't true. I send at least ten of your quilts to my daughter a month. She says they sell…"
"You send Nancy's quilts to your daughter?" Eleanor looked toward Maggie.
"Nancy asked me so it wouldn't stir up any gossip at the post office-her sending packages to my daughter. But she asked me not to say anything."
Nancy interrupted. "I didn't want anyone to know. I did sell some of my quilts in New York. And I did keep the money here. If I'd put it in the bank or brought it home, my husband would have found it and gambled it away. That money was for my sons' education."
"It was safer here," I continued. "Until the remodel. Until I suggested tearing down the wall. And you tried to stop it."
"I didn't care about the remodel."
"Yes you did," Carrie started then stopped. She turned to me. "Nancy is just very careful, conservative. That's why she cared about the remodel. She didn't do anything."
"That's not why," I said, so quietly I doubted anyone heard me.
Nancy and I locked eyes. There was a steel reserve in them that came from years of struggle. But after a few seconds it melted away into a soft regret. She blinked. "I didn't mean to hurt you Eleanor," Nancy said as she looked at Eleanor's injured leg. "It's just that you always say leaving money in the shop overnight makes us a target for thieves. I thought if you found out, you might make me take the money somewhere else, and I didn't have anywhere else to take it.
"I know, dear." Eleanor patted Nancy's hand.
"You could have killed her," my voice quivered. "She could have broken her neck on those stairs." Nancy nodded meekly. "And then you killed Marc."
"That's enough," Susanne broke in. "I think we should stop now before anyone says something they'll regret." Natalie reached over for her mother's hand and both women looked down.
"I didn't mean for it to happen," Nancy said as tears rolled down her eyes. "Marc found the money. My money. The money that was paying for my children's education."
"In the wall," Jesse said.
Nancy nodded. "Yes, and in the office downstairs. He took everything and didn't want to give it back to me. He said it was his."
"He didn't have the money from the basement." I took the envelope from my back pocket. "I just found it a minute ago."
Nancy stared at me. "That's not possible. He had almost fifteen thousand dollars. Just about a thousand less than I had in the shop. When I came in he was taking money out of the bank bag I had hidden in the wall. I saw him."
"You came into the shop and saw Marc taking money from the bank bag," Jesse repeated. "And you asked for it back."
"Yes," said Nancy, her eyes darting from one person to another. "The money was still in the bag and he had more money, thousands more. The money from downstairs."
"He won that money gambling on some horse races," Jesse said calmly, with a sadness on the edge of his voice.
"No, he didn't. He stole it from me. He was stealing it from me, and I caught him. I asked him for the money back. I begged him." Nancy was frantic now. "And he laughed. He said I could have the money in the bag but the rest was his. He said he was doing his good deed for the day. Can you imagine?" She turned to a sympathetic quilt club, who were crowding around her in support. Even Barney sat at her side.
"I never liked that boy," Maggie said quietly.
"And then he said he had a lot of work to do, so I should get out of his way. He picked up a hammer and started working with his back to me, ignoring me. I kept begging him, and then he turned around and came at me." She stopped and took a deep breath. "I thought he was going to kill me. I just wanted my money."
"Of course you did," Bernie said.
Jesse moved toward Nancy. "So you stabbed him."
She closed her eyes. "I thought he was going to kill me."
"Nancy." I looked to Jesse, who turned up the sides of his mouth, into what might have been a smile under happier circumstances. "I think you caught Marc putting the money back. I think he knew through his cousin that you were selling quilts in the city, and he knew your husband. Since he wasn't gambling it away, Marc must have figured you were hiding it somewhere. And what better place than in the shop."
"That's why he wanted to do the remodel so badly," Eleanor gasped. "I thought he was changing, I really did."
"I think he was," I said. "I think he found the money in the wall and gambled with it. If he had lost, who knows what would have happened. But he won. And I guess he decided to put your money back."
"But he had almost as much money as I hid here," Nancy protested.
"Most of it was his winnings," I said quietly. I could see Nancy was about to fall apart. "The rest was still safely tucked in the basement. When Bernie mentioned something about keeping her money in different accounts, I don't know, it reminded me of a twenty dollar bill in the office. Money that Eleanor couldn't account for. I thought if you were hiding money it might be safer to hide it in a couple of places."
"We found six thousand dollars hidden inside Eleanor's fireplace, " Jesse said.
"You found that?" Nancy looked at me. "It's my money. I put it there. Where is it?"
"I have it," Jesse said. "Where's the rest? Where's the money Marc won?"
Nancy pointed to a box on the floor. It was addressed to her youngest son at college. Jesse opened the box. Inside was a large simple quilt that crinkled when he picked it up. He hesitated a moment and then tore at the seam. With some effort, he'd pulled a block apart and inside was a wad of cash.
"I couldn't risk getting money orders, or someone would have mentioned it to my husband," Nancy said. "He's a good man. He can't help himself. But that money is for my kids."
"Of course it is, and they'll get it too," Susanne said. She wrapped her arm around Nancy.
"Marc was doing the right thing?" Maggie's face was frozen, but tears were rolling down her cheeks.
"He came toward me with a hammer," Nancy said almost to herself.
"Did he have it raised up?" Jesse asked, raising his arm to show her what he meant.
Nancy shook her head. "No, but I thought…" Her voice trailed off.
"He had such a terrible reputation," Bernie offered quietly. "Any one of us would have been afraid of him."
But Nancy didn't seem interested in any comforting words. "I'm so sorry. I guess I robbed him. I didn't mean…" She grabbed the quilt tighter around her, and then just let it drop to the floor.
"I think," I said softly, wanting not to speak but too caught up to stop. "I think Marc grabbed Grace's quilt thinking he was leaving us a message."
Eleanor looked at me. "What message?"
"I kept telling him that if those quilts got dusty, Nancy would kill him." I stopped, looked down. I didn't mean to use those words. "I just kept telling him that Nancy would be upset if those quilts got dirty. He must have thought they were all her quilts. When he grabbed one, he must have thought…"
I was looking at the floor, but out of the corner of my eye I could see Eleanor nodding. Nancy had her face in her hands and everyone else was stunned into silence.
"I guess I can get that quilt back to you pretty soon, Mrs. Cassidy." Jesse's voice was low and it seemed almost as if he would cry.
Eleanor was already crying. "It's not important."
Jesse took Nancy's arm. "I'm going to take you down to the police station now, Mrs. Vanderberg. Someone here should call you a lawyer."
I looked at Jesse. "Isn't it kind of self-defense?"
"Maybe. Just get her a lawyer."
Maggie took Natalie's cell phone and called one of her sons. "He'll do it for free, or he'll regret it," she said as Nancy and Jesse walked out of the shop.
I'd gotten so caught up in following clues that I hadn't thought about where it might lead. I walked out of the shop and stopped Jesse and Nancy.
"I'm sorry," I said to Nancy. Jesse let go of her arm and she gave me a long hug.
"If you can get my quilt bag for me and bring it over to the jail, I'd like to do some hand sewing tonight." She smiled weakly and I nodded.
Jesse and Nancy walked across the street and turned a corner toward the police station. Inside the shop, I could hear the women creating a plan of action to help Nancy. I didn't think they would want me there, so I started to walk to the river.
"It's over with me and Amanda." I saw Ryan walking toward me and I stopped.
"I don't care," I said wearily. I really didn't care, and that saddened me. "What was wrong had nothing to do with you or Amanda."
"Then let's fix it."
I shook my head slowly as if it weighed fifty pounds. "The women here, they have these things they call UFOs. Unfinished projects. Sometimes you start something and in the middle decide it isn't worth finishing. The trick is not to get stubborn about it. If it doesn't work, you have to let it go."
"I don't know what that means," Ryan stammered.
"I do."
I took one last look at the face I had loved for so long, then turned and walked away.