“I’m starving,” Harriet announced as she came into the kitchen from the garage. She was carrying a bottle of water in each hand.
“Is Tom with you?” Aunt Beth asked, eyeing the extra water.
“No, he went back to check on the Renfros.” She looked down at the extra bottle she was holding. “I’m just really thirsty.” She sat down at the breakfast table and opened one of the bottles, nearly draining it before setting it down again.
“How was it out there?” Mavis asked as she joined them.
Harriet sagged back in her chair.
“It’s awful.”
“That bad, huh?” Lauren asked, as she, too, entered the kitchen. “So, spill,” she said and slid into the chair opposite Harriet. “What was the worst you saw?”
“That would be Duane.” Harriet sighed. She looked up gratefully as Mavis slid a plate with half of a peanut butter-and-jelly sandwich on it in front of her.
Aunt Beth lifted the lid of a large pot that was simmering on the stove, and the room was filled with the spicy smell of chili.
“We’re having dinner shortly,” she said as she stirred it and replaced the lid. “We thought we’d eat before it gets dark.”
“Not that it ever really got light,” Mavis remarked, looking through the window at the gray sky outside.
“Come on, throw us a bone,” Lauren said. “What happened to Duane?”
“He’s dead.”
“What?” Aunt Beth exclaimed. “Did he have a heart attack or something?”
“It was more in the ‘or something’ category.”
“Don’t be a drama queen.” Lauren prompted. “Spit it out.”
“Someone strangled him during the storm.”
“Who?” Lauren asked.
“Do you think I’d have said ‘someone’ if I knew who’d done it?” Harriet snapped, more sharply than she’d meant to.
“Sorry,” Lauren said, dragging the word out in a way that indicated she was anything but.
“Settle down, you two,” Mavis said sternly. “Eat your sandwich, and then you can tell us everything.”
A half-hour later, Harriet was settled in front of the living room fireplace in a fresh set of clothes, a cup of tea clutched in both hands, a soft old quilted lap robe around her shoulders.
“First of all, the Muckleshoot was just starting to flow over the bridge when Tom and I came back. We barely made it across in time.” She paused and took a sip of tea. “Second, it took us more than two hours to get from here to the homeless camp. We cleared tree limbs and debris as we went, but there are wires down everywhere. We passed utility workers, and they said they’re doing repairs on the power lines in anticipation of the main feeder line break being found and fixed, but it’s anyone’s guess when that will happen.”
“Oh, dear,” Mavis said.
“We got to the homeless camp just as Joyce and Ronald found Duane. They thought he was sleeping in after being awake all night, but eventually, they checked and he was dead.”
“Was he in his camp?” Lauren asked, looking at Mavis the whole time to see if a reprimand was coming.
“No, he was in the handicapped stall in the men’s room. I guess several people rode the storm out in the bathrooms, but they took different stalls or corners for privacy. Joyce stayed out all night to keep an eye on Brandy, who was too out of it to come in, so she doesn’t know what happened indoors. Ronald said he slept through it all, but he knows the truck-driving couple and some other couple no one knew were in there, too. Joyce went to sleep after the storm broke, so Brandy was on her own during that time.” Harriet shook her head then shivered. “It was awful. And he was covered with one of our quilts after the fact.”
“You’re not suggesting our quilt had anything to do with it, are you?” Lauren asked.
“Of course she isn’t,” Mavis said. “It was just an observation, I’m sure.”
“We dropped the supplies Tom had and then went to the police station. Officer Nguyen seems to be the only law enforcement in town-I guess the detectives got stuck on the wrong side of the slide while they were at their task force meeting. Nguyen hadn’t been able to reach anyone else in town.”
“Wow,” said Aunt Beth. “I wonder who’ll investigate the murder.”
“Tom and I used duct tape to seal off the bathroom stall, and I’m sure Joyce will do her best to keep people away. It’s certainly cold enough in the bathroom to preserve Duane for a while.”
“Well, that’s just terrible,” Aunt Beth said. “It must have been very upsetting.”
“It was a shock, that’s for sure. But that wasn’t the end of the fun on our adventure. Tom took me by Marjory’s shop so we could see if it had made it through the storm in one piece and…” She went on to describe their encounter with Marjory’s family.
“Richard reacted strangely when we told them about the death at the homeless camp. The fact that he reacted at all was strange,” Harriet said. “I think they slept in their car last night, and they were pretty hungry. I was going to cave and invite them here, but Tom wouldn’t let me. He gave them some cookies and told them to go find a shelter.”
“You’ve had an eventful day,” Mavis said.
“Anyone hungry?” Jorge called from the kitchen. The smell of cornbread greeted them as they made their way back to the kitchen.
“Did you make that on top of the stove?” Lauren asked.
“Yes, I did,” Jorge said. “There is only an electric oven under the gas cooktop, unfortunately.”
“Aren’t you tricky,” Lauren said. “And here I thought you only cooked Mexican.”
“I am a man of many secrets,” Jorge said with a knowing smile and scooped his spicy chili into ceramic bowls. “The grated cheese, sour cream and green onions are on the dining table with honey and butter for the bread,” he said.
“This is fabulous,” Harriet said as she took the bowl he handed her and made her way to the other room.
Everyone agreed, if the subsequent empty dishes were any indication.
Aunt Beth and Mavis insisted on washing the dishes, leaving Harriet and Lauren to sip their after-dinner tea in front of the fireplace in the living room. Jorge went outside to bring more firewood into the garage to dry, a task made more difficult by the elderly electric door opener needing to be operated manually using a temperamental pull cord.
“So, who do you think did it?” Lauren asked without preamble. “I mean, you were there. You must have some idea.”
Carter was in his usual position with only his head peeking out from her sweatshirt.
“I’m trying not to think about it,” Harriet admitted.
“How’s that working for you?”
“Not too well, actually.”
“That’s what I thought. I think you’ll feel better if you talk about it.”
“I’m sure you do,” Harriet said with a sigh. She pondered the bottom of her teacup for a few minutes, but no answers were revealed there, so she finally spoke. “There are quite a few possibilities, and no real way to sort them.”
“You said the truck-driving couple were in the same bathroom, right?” Lauren mused. “Seems like that would be too obvious, though.”
“Sometimes the simple answer is the right one,” Harriet cautioned.
“What about the unknown couple?”
“That’s all they said-a man and his companion who left first thing in the morning. I get the feeling that transient visitors aren’t unusual at the camp.”
“Who else should we consider?” Lauren asked. “Didn’t you say Joyce went to sleep for a while?”
“Yeah. She and Ronald both say they were asleep for portions of the night. And Brandy was ‘out of it,’ but I’m not sure exactly what that means. I don’t know if she was passed out or merely uncooperative. In any case, no one can say what she was doing when the others were asleep.”
“I wonder if Darcy and her bunch will be able to determine the time of death when they’re finally able to get here.” She meant crime scene investigator and sometime Loose Thread Darcy Lewis.
“The real question is, where is Darcy?” Harriet sat up in her chair. “If she’s trapped in town like us, maybe we can get Tom to fetch her to the crime scene.”
“What do you suggest? Smoke signals?”
“Let’s see if we can figure out where she lives.” Harriet got up from her chair.
“You might as well give me the dogs before I come in. I can’t get any wetter.” Jorge called from the kitchen.
Lauren handed a frightened looking Carter to him as Mavis snapped leashes onto the collars of Pamela and Curly.
“Who are you trying to find,” Aunt Beth asked when Harriet asked where she might find a phone book.
Harriet had lived in the house for most of a year, but she still didn’t know where everything was.
“We were wondering where Darcy lives, and if she’s around. Officer Nguyen said he hasn’t been able to reach anyone. He seemed pretty overwhelmed before we told him about Duane. He might not have called Darcy yet,” Harriet explained.
“We know he didn’t call her,” Lauren said. “Unless she has a satellite phone. But maybe he knows where she lives.”
“I can tell you that,” Aunt Beth answered. “She lives in one of those duplexes on the other side of Miller Hill.”
It might as well be a continent away, given the conditions, Harriet thought.
“Well, it was a good idea,” she said. “We were thinking there won’t be much forensic evidence by the time the power is back and the roads are clear.”
“I’m sure the scene has pretty well been contaminated by now anyway,” Mavis said. “I’ll bet everyone in the homeless camp has been in there to look.”
“You’re probably right.”
Lauren picked up her radio and began winding the crank on its side. After a minute, she stopped and turned the radio on.
“Shhh,” she said, even though no one was speaking. “Listen.”
She turned up the volume, and a scratchy voice came from the small speaker.
“What was that?” Mavis asked. “What did they say about water?”
“We have to boil it,” Lauren translated and clicked the radio off with a snap.
“Great,” Harriet said.
“You should be grateful,” Aunt Beth scolded. “At least we have a gas stove to boil water with.”
“Yeah, as long as the propane lasts,” Harriet shot back.
“What was that about the propane?” Jorge asked. He’d just come in from outside, Pamela and Curly on their leashes, Carter held in one large hand. “Everyone did their business,” he said as the women took their respective pets from him. Water ran in rivers down his face, dripping from his dark hair onto the collar of his raincoat. “Boy, it’s raining to beat the band out there.”
“Did you see Aiden this morning?” Harriet asked him.
“No, I’ve been here all day,” he said as Aunt Beth brought him a towel to dry his hair and Mavis took his wet coat and carried it off, presumably to hang it on a chair in front of the fire.
“He didn’t come to the house around the time I left?” Harriet pressed.
“No. Why do you think that?”
“As Tom and I were driving away, I looked back, and he was coming out of the woods at the end of the street.”
“Oh,” Jorge said. “I’m sure that didn’t please him-seeing you drive away.”
“Probably not,” Harriet said.
“I don’t like him being stuck with that sister of his all this time. She is not a good influence on the boy.”
“Me, either, but there’s not much I can do about it. He won’t talk to me.”
“That Michelle is up to no good,” Jorge said.
“Yeah, but what can we do about it?”
“Maybe the roads will be clear enough for us to pay a visit over there tomorrow. In the meantime, there’s nothing you can do about it.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Let’s go play cards,” he said. “Come on, Blondie, you, too.” He looked over his shoulder at Lauren.
Aunt Beth and Mavis declined the offer of cards and took one of the oil lamps to Harriet’s studio. They said they were going to sit in front of the window and see if they had enough light to work on their hand-stitching projects for a while.
“Do you ladies know how to play a game called scat?” Jorge asked.
Harriet and Lauren shook their heads.
“You are in for a treat, my friends,” he said and ushered them toward the living room. “We can pull that little table in front of the fire and play where it is warm.” He indicated a low coffee table.
Lauren brought the candelabrum from the dining room and relit the candles after setting it on the table.
“Okay, big guy, show us how it’s done,” Lauren said and sat down across the table from Jorge.