“I really appreciate you letting me stay here,” Detective Morse said an hour later when she came back down from the attic space Harriet and Lauren had set up for her.
“We’ve got some sandwiches in the dining room if you’d like to have a snack with us before you get on with things,” Mavis offered.
“That sounds good. And maybe you can fill me in on what’s been happening here while we’re eating.”
Harriet started by describing her visit to the homeless camp with Tom right after the discovery of Duane’s body and finished with Richard’s death.
“I’m afraid we don’t know much more than that two men are dead,” she said when she was done. “Oh, and Tom mentioned that when he went to Owen’s truck with him, he noticed a spool of wire that looked a lot like the wire that was wrapped around Duane’s throat. We do know that Richard was in town because he was having money troubles and was trying to get money from Marjory.”
“Our Marjory?” Morse asked. “Quilt store Marjory? Does she have the kind of money someone would come after?”
“Yes, our Marjory,” Mavis explained. “And she has a small inheritance from their parents.”
“So, I take it you didn’t identify or catch the serial killer when you met with the task force,” Harriet said.
“No, ’fraid not. Everyone shared their information on killings in their respective jurisdictions, and we compared similarities and differences and came up with a list of what are almost certainly victims of the killer and eliminated a couple of others. We spent a lot of time talking about how we would share information. And we tried to figure out what our killer’s signature is. There is some disagreement, but we think we came up with a victim profile.”
“Do Duane and Richard fit the profile?”
“Duane’s not a perfect fit, but he does have some of the traits. Richard I don’t know enough about, but on the surface I’d say no. These victims tend to be vulnerable in some way-homelessness puts Duane in that category.”
“Great,” Lauren said. “So, we didn’t learn anything.” Carter licked her face as if in sympathy.
“Sorry to disappoint.” Morse got up and crumpled her napkin before carrying it to the fireplace and throwing it in. “If you’re still willing, I think I’d like to go to the fire station and check in with the rest of my team,” she said to Jorge.
“Sure. Anyone else want to go along for the ride?”
“I’ll go,” Lauren said when no one else offered.
“How would you feel about driving, honey?” Aunt Beth asked Harriet. Jorge and Lauren had been gone for half an hour, and Harriet had spent the time pacing between the kitchen and the fireplace. “You’re going to wear the carpet out if you don’t stop that dancing around.”
“I’m not dancing,” Harriet said.
“You’re not doing anything productive, either.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Mavis and I were thinking we’d really like to get up to the church and see how things are going.”
“We realized that we’ve already started taking donations for the clothing drive,” Mavis said. “And we’re betting some of the people didn’t bring extra clothes with them.”
“Plus we always buy new underwear with donated money, and we’ve already purchased them,” Beth continued. “We’re thinking people might be real happy to get a fresh set of those.”
“We’ll suggest they donate a new set when things get back to normal.” Mavis finished.
“Sure,” Harriet said. “I’d like to see if the Owen and Kate are there. They kind of disappeared.”
“You don’t think someone killed them, do you?” Aunt Beth said, concern in her voice.
“No. At least, I didn’t until you just mentioned it. That’s a horrible thought.”
“Oh, honey, I’m sure they went to the church for a hot meal or something like that. Or maybe they just wanted a change of scenery.” Mavis said.
“One way to find out,” Harriet said. “The bus leaves in five.” She headed upstairs to brush her teeth and get a sweatshirt.
“I hope the girls will be okay here by themselves,” Aunt Beth said as she climbed into the passenger seat of Harriet’s car.
“They’ll be fine,” Harriet assured her. “You and Mavis spoil those two rotten.”
“You just wait until you get Scooter home,” Mavis said from the back seat.
Harriet was relieved to see the familiar semi truck in the church lot when she turned in and parked.
“Well, that answers one question,” Aunt Beth said. “Let’s go inside and see what else is going on.”
“How are the streets out there?” Reverend Mike Hafer asked Aunt Beth when they came into the church gymnasium.
“Passable,” Aunt Beth said. “The Muckleshoot is still over the bridge to downtown, but folks are getting the streets cleared.”
“How are you holding up?” Mavis asked.
“We’re doing fine,” Mike replied. “We were pretty well prepared, and people keep dropping off food and supplies. The children are getting cabin fever, but we’ve got some teachers here holding classes of sorts, and we have board games and the church library to help them learn about how people spent their leisure time before the days of television and video games. I just thank the Lord there weren’t any serious injuries due to the storm.”
Aunt Beth explained her intention to make up more newcomer kits in case anyone else came to the shelter. Mavis told him their plan to raid the clothing drive closet.
“That’s a good idea,” Mike said. “We’re continuing to have people arrive as they run out of fuel and supplies at home. And I know we have people who arrived with just the clothes on their backs.”
“If you think of anything else you’d like us to do while we’re here, let us know. Otherwise, we’ll get to it,’ Aunt Beth said.
“Thank you for coming today. I know you’re living in less than ideal conditions yourselves.”
Mavis and Aunt Beth headed toward the doors across the gym that led to the interior of the church and their destination.
Harriet spotted Kate standing at a roll-up window that separated the kitchen from the gym. The church volunteers had set up a coffee station on the counter with multiple large thermal carafes with pump spouts.
“Hey,” Harriet said as she approached her. “How’s it going?”
Kate attempted a weak smile.
“It’s going,” she said.
“Is this a permanent move?” Harriet indicated the gym around them.
“Nothing is permanent in our life,” Kate said and took a sip from the paper cup she clutched in both hands.
“Is that a bad thing?” Harriet asked. “I mean, that must go with the territory when you decide to become long-haul truckers.”
Kate squeezed her cup so hard the hot liquid spilled over the lip and onto her hand. She dropped it and grabbed for a napkin. Harriet handed her napkins from a nearby table and put several more on the spilled coffee.
“I’m sorry,” she said when she’d cleaned up the spill. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s not you,” Kate assured her as she took a fresh cup and poured it half-full of coffee. “It’s our situation. It’s just so frustrating. And it’s our own fault. Well, not our fault, really, but our stupidity.”
Harriet waited for the woman to elaborate and began to think she wasn’t going to when Kate sighed.
“This is so embarrassing, but…we live in our truck…because we lost our house. In fact, even the truck isn’t ours. It belongs to Owen’s brother. He has a trucking business, and if he hadn’t let Owen drive for him, we’d have been in a homeless camp somewhere, too, just like Joyce and Brandy.”
Harriet wasn’t sure what the appropriate response was in this sort of situation.
“Like I said, it’s our own fault. We had a custom cabinet business in Sequim. We weren’t rich, but we did okay. One of Owen’s suppliers told him about this financial fund that seemed too good to be true. He said he’d been investing his money there for ten years, and it was as near to bulletproof as a fund can be. He told Owen that not just anyone could put their money in it. You had to be nominated by a current investor and had to meet a rather high minimum deposit. To meet that minimum, we had to use all our money.”
“I’m guessing things went bad when the economy tanked.”
“As bad as it can go,” Kate admitted. “We lost it all. It turns out we had given our life savings to a Ponzi scheme. We later learned this sort of scheme always has a few people who actually are paid their earnings. The people who run it choose people who will be withdrawing money from their account. The investors are so amazed by the returns they’re willing to sell the fund to their friends. And of course, the company had all kinds of dummy reports and full-color glossy brochures.
“So, for those lucky few, it was the deal of a lifetime. It’s the rest of us poor schmucks who got shafted. Owen and I were in that majority who had their money in the fund for the long haul. We marveled over how rich we were each month when we opened our statements, but we never tried to withdraw any of it.” She made a strangled noise that Harriet thought was supposed to be a laugh. “We were so naive.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” Harriet repeated. “Is there no way to recover any of your money?”
Kate shook her head. “We don’t even know who was in charge of the fund. The government white-collar crime people are trying to untangle the mess, and there’s some small hope they’ll be able to find whatever remains of the funds, but even if they do, it will be pennies on the dollar.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Harriet said. “That’s just awful.”
“You can imagine how we felt when everything started happening at the homeless camp. Things will never be the same for us, but we’d been starting to achieve some sense of normalcy. Owen’s brother keeps him busy with driving jobs and pays him a decent wage, so with that and the sale of our business and home, we’ve managed to pay the debts we ran up when the housing bubble burst. We were living on credit when the jobs dried up, thinking that either the work slump would end or we could cover our debt with money from our investment fund.
“I thought we’d finally turned a corner. Then we had the misfortune to have our heater break in Foggy Point, Washington. What seemed like it was going to be a fun adventure has turned into a nightmare. I know it may seem cold, and I’m really sorry those two men died, but frankly, I can’t cope with any more bad news. I just want to get as far away from here as fast as I can.”
“I can’t say I blame you,” Harriet said.
“I’m starting to feel like this big black cloud is following us around and we don’t know why. We’re not bad people. We pay our taxes, go to church on Sundays. We both have good relationships with our families…” she trailed off with a sigh.
Harriet stood with her for a few minutes, neither of them speaking. She hoped it was helping in some small way. She was staring into her own coffee cup, lost in thought, when Aiden came striding up to them.
“I need to talk to you,” he said in a cold tone, his jaw so tense she could see the muscle jump. He grasped her arm in a rough grip and pulled her toward the door.
The moment they were out in the hall, he whirled around to face her.
“Is it true?” he demanded. “Are you involved in not one but two murders? Again?”
“So what if I am? What business of yours is it? You’ve made it very clear-we’re through. I get it. I don’t like it, and it took me a few tries to hear the message, but I finally did. Aiden and Harriet are no more. So, again, what business is it of yours if I’m involved in two murders or twenty murders or anything else, even?”
“Just because I said I can’t be with you doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt, by me or anyone else. That’s the whole point of all this.”
“All what?” Harriet said in a louder voice than she’d intended.
“Don’t change the subject. What about the dead guys? Why are you involved?”
“I’m not involved, not that it’s any of your business.”
“You are involved. I came here to take care of a dog and a cat that got into a fight. The two owners were talking about the people who had arrived from the homeless camp. They mentioned you by name. They said you were there when they found both bodies.”
“That’s not exactly true, but again-not your business.” Harriet whipped around, pulling her arm from his grip and went back inside the gymnasium.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Mavis asked when she spotted her leaning with her back against the wall just inside the gym door. Harriet wiped at the tears that streaked her face.
“Aiden’s here,” she said and took the tissue Mavis pulled from her sweater pocket
“Come on,” she said and led Harriet out of the gym again. Aiden was no longer in the hallway. “Here.” She guided Harriet into the closet where she and Aunt Beth were sorting through the donated clothing, looking for items that might be useful to the displaced people in the gym.
Aunt Beth stuck her head out from behind a rack of coats. She started to say something, took one look at Harriet and Mavis and retreated around the rack.
“I’ll be back here if you need anything,” she said.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Mavis asked.
“No,” Harriet said. “Yes. I don’t know.”
“Take a deep breath,” Mavis said in a soothing voice.
“I can’t figure out what sort of game Aiden is playing. At the clinic, he told me we are through and offered no explanation. Of course, I couldn’t confront him with what we’ve learned from Carla, so I just had to let it go at that.”
Mavis handed her a bottle of water from her tote bag on the floor. Harriet opened it and took a long drink.
“A few minutes ago, he came storming in here and grabbed me by the arm. He dragged me out in the hall and started yelling about my being involved in the two murders. He said just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. What am I supposed to do with that? He cares, but we can’t be together?”
“Sounds like the boy’s confused,” offered Aunt Beth from behind her rack of coats.
“Oh, for Pete’s sake, if you’re going to horn in on our conversation, you might as well come out in the open and quit hiding.” Mavis told her.
“I was trying to give you two some privacy, but I can’t believe Aiden is pulling that old saw on you. ‘I love you, but I’m not good enough, so I’m setting you free.’ If I didn’t know the boy better, I’d say he was having an affair. But since I do know him, I have to believe he’s incredibly misguided. We have got to confront him about that nonsense his sister is feeding him.”
“Hold on a minute,” Harriet said.
“Yeah,” Mavis added. “Hold your horses. It’s not our job to interfere with Harriet’s relationship with Aiden.”
“Not that I have one,” Harriet pointed out. “But I agree. Aiden has to figure this out on his own. Otherwise, we’ll be doing this again and again with Michelle.”
“I think it would help Aiden see the light if we could prove to him that Michelle’s evidence has been fabricated,” Beth said.
“Maybe,” Mavis agreed. “But we can’t put Carla’s job in jeopardy.”
“I’m getting a little tired of all the drama,” Harriet muttered.
“Does that tired have anything to do with a certain out-of-town visitor?” Aunt Beth asked.
Harriet was quiet for a moment.
“Would it be terrible if it did?” she said finally.
“I suppose that would be up to you,” Beth said.
“Let’s take these bundles of clothes out to the gym. Julie Swendsen is setting up a table for us to put them on,” Mavis said. She handed Harriet a paper shopping bag filled with packages of underwear. “Let’s deliver this stuff and get out of here.”
They almost made a clean getaway.
Harriet left her aunt and Mavis under the covered walkway in front of the gym while she dashed across the parking lot through the rain to get her car. Detective Morse was talking to them when she pulled up.
“Hey,” she said through the open car window.
Detective Morse pulled the car door open and climbed into the front seat, out of the rain.
“I talked to Darcy at the fire station. She said several of the folks from the homeless camp have moved to the shelter. Is that true?”
“Yeah, one older man who has some sort of heart condition and that couple who live in a semi with the broken heater. They got stuck on this side of the slide.”
“Anything I need to know about them?”
“What I just told you is pretty much all I know. One is sick, and the other two are stuck here.”
“Thanks,” Morse said. “I guess I’ll see you at the house later.”
“Do you need a ride home?”
“No, I picked up a set of wheels at the temporary fire station.” She pointed to a red Jeep in the parking lot.
“Lucky you,” Harriet said with a smile.
Morse got out and trotted to the door as Aunt Beth and Mavis got in.
“Anyone want to go anywhere else while we’re out?” Harriet asked her passengers.
“Are any of the stores open?” Mavis asked. “We could use another bag of flour if they are.”
“Let’s go find out.”
She drove a circuitous route that bypassed the flooded downtown area, eventually pulling into the lot at Vince’s Supermarket.
The lights were dim, but a handwritten sign proclaimed they were open and a single door was propped open with a wooden box. They could hear the hum of a generator in the background, but the dim lights meant it probably wasn’t big enough to power the whole store.
“Welcome,” Vince called from the lone open cash register. “Can I make you a deal on some soon to be thawed hamburgers? I’ll throw in some fries,” he added and wiggled his thick dark eyebrows up and down.
“We’re hoping to get some flour,” Mavis said with a smile.
“We’ve got that, too, but I’d be happy to give you some pre-made burger patties. My generator can’t power both rows of freezers. I moved all the fresh meat into the one unit, and I had to prioritize stuff. I’ve got some bags of frozen burgers that are going to go to waste. You can have them if you want some for dinner. My son just took off with a carload to take to the church. You’d be doing me a favor.”
“If they’re going to go to waste, sure, we’ll take some.” Aunt Beth said.
Vince gave Harriet a bag and told her where the meat was in the back of the store and to go help herself. Mavis and Beth went to get the flour.
“Help yourself to a package of buns to go with them,” Vince called as Harriet headed to the back. “Aisle five on the right, halfway down.”
Harriet’s route took her past the powered freezer with its thick yellow cord leading outside to the gas generator. The head of the extension cord could receive three plugs, but only the single freezer line was plugged into it.
She fingered the charger cord in her pocket. Before she had time to worry about whether the addition of the charger would blow the circuit, she’d plugged Duane’s phone into the outlet. She left it lying on the floor charging while she went into the back room, located the tubes of thawing hamburgers and loaded several into the shopping bag Vince had given her.
She went back up aisle five and picked up enough buns to sheath the meat she’d taken before she went back and unplugged Duane’s phone, pocketing it and its charger before going to the front of the store.
“We appreciate the meat, Vince,” Aunt Beth said. “We’d like to pay for it, though.”
“No, I’ll write it off as a loss. It will be fine. I’m just glad it won’t go to waste.”
Tom’s pickup was in the driveway beside Jorge’s when Harriet drove into the garage.
“Where have you been?” Lauren asked when she came into the kitchen.
“At the church and the grocery store,” Harriet replied. “What difference does it make?”
“If you had been here, maybe you could have stopped them.”
“Stopped who?” Aunt Beth asked as she joined them.
“Jorge and Tom are unclogging the rain gutter…on the attic roof.”
“What?” Aunt Beth and Harriet said at the same time.
“I tried to talk them out of it,” Lauren said. She pulled Carter out of her sweatshirt and set him on the kitchen floor in front of his water dish. “A burst of rain hit while they were having a cup of coffee, and they saw the overflow gushing past the window where the downspout is plugged. When the rain slowed again, they went into the garage and dug around for a while. They came out with an armload of ropes and boards and a broken fireplace poker and headed upstairs to the attic.”
“Please tell me they didn’t go out the attic window,” Harriet said.
“They rigged some sort of harness and anchored it to the exposed beam where the roofline slopes down to the eave.”
“I can’t stand it,” Harriet said. “We’ve already lost two men since this storm began. Do we have to lose two more?” She headed for the stairs. “I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.”
Fred jumped from his perch on top of the hallway bookcase and followed her up.
“Come on, Fred,” she said when she reached her room. “Your doctor is being a real jerk, and I’m tired of thinking about it.” She patted her hand on the bed, inviting him up onto the down comforter. She unzipped her hoodie and as she took it off, Duane’s phone slid out of the pocket.
“Ahh, Duane. Let’s see if you’ve left me anything useful here.” She gently pressed the on button. The phone hesitated for a heart-stopping few seconds, and then the screen glowed green as it went through its wake-up cycle.
Harriet grabbed a tablet and pen from her desk and prepared to scribble notes. She wasn’t sure how long the phone would last, given a five-minute charge. She hit the contacts button first, but Duane had an extensive network. There was no way she could write it all down before the phone died again. She saw the notes icon and pressed it. The first note seemed to be a list of some sort. It was all numbers-what could be phone numbers followed by another number that varied between five and six digits. She frantically wrote the numbers down.
She selected the second note and opened it. It was also numbers, but they didn’t follow a regular pattern. She wrote them down.
The third and last note was an ICE notification-In Case of Emergency-followed by a name, address, phone number and e-mail address.
“Well, that’s something, anyway,” Harriet said to Fred as the green light faded and the phone again went dead. “Arghh,” she yelled and threw the phone down on her bed. “I want my power back.”
Fred looked at her as if trying to decide whether he needed to dash for cover, but her tantrum was short-lived so he settled down on the bed and closed his eyes.
“Well, we can worry about what it all means after our nap.”