Read Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) Online

Authors: Arlene Sachitano

Tags: #FIC022040/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Women Sleuths, #FIC022070/FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Cozy

Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8) (6 page)

BOOK: Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8)
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If only decisions really were that easy
, she thought as she got in and drove away.

Chapter 6

Harriet unlocked the door to her studio and propped the kitchen door open before going upstairs to check the guest room Sharon would be using one more time. The day had finally arrived, and in a few short hours, quilters would begin descending on Foggy Point.

“Anybody home?” Lauren called a few minutes later.

“Be right there,” Harriet answered and, with one last survey, shut the bedroom door and returned to the kitchen.

Lauren pulled a stack of laminated crazy quilt pictures from a paper bag and set them on the counter. She scooped her long blonde hair in her two hands and into a ponytail in one practiced move, securing it with a scrunchie she pulled from her jeans pocket.

“I brought these over whole so we could make sure we were on the same page about how we’re cutting them.”

Harriet picked up the stack and leafed through the images.

“How were you thinking of cutting them?”

“I was thinking of doing the standard jigsaw puzzle innie and outie, but then I worried it might be too hard. Maybe we should just cut them in half and keep it simple.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure? Let’s go with your original plan. These people are quilters—they’re used to matching shapes.”

“If you say so.” Lauren pulled three white pages with black outlines on them from the paper bag. “I made templates in case you chose the puzzle piece option.” She handed one of the templates to Harriet and kept the other two for herself. “Got any coffee?”

Harriet finished cutting her final puzzle piece, placing the two halves in their respective stacks.

“Do you think it’s weird that I don’t have any pictures of Steve on display?”

“I think it would be weird if you had pictures of the rest of your family and excluded your dead husband, but, Harriet, you don’t have any family pictures anywhere in the house that I’ve ever seen.”

“If you had my family, would you? The only pictures I have of my parents are either publicity photos or formal portraits done by some important artist.”

Lauren set her last laminated piece on the table.

“If you’re asking me if I think your houseguest is going to think it’s weird, that’s a whole other thing.”

Harriet played with the edge of her template, curling and uncurling the corner.

“Will she?”

“You’re the one who knows her, but if she and her husband were good friends of your husband, she probably
will
expect to see his picture.” Lauren gathered all the quilt pieces and put them back in the paper bag. “Don’t you have a simple wedding picture? Maybe a four-by-six, or a five-by-seven—nothing too flashy. You and him and a bunch of flowers. You could put it on the mantle in the living room with some of your aunt’s ceramic knickknacks. It wouldn’t stand out, but it would be there if she’s looking for it.”

“I think I have something like that. Thanks, I’ve been driving myself crazy preparing for this visit. I just don’t get why this woman wants to stay with me. It’s not like we were good friends or anything. And she and her cronies certainly didn’t have the time of day for me when Steve died. I really don’t need any more drama in my life.” She rubbed her hands through her hair. “I hope she doesn’t have an agenda apart from wanting to learn to crazy quilt.”

“It’s entirely possible—” Lauren started, but she was interrupted by Aunt Beth and Mavis coming through the door.

Beth set a drink holder with four paper coffee cups on the table and shrugged out of her tan hip-length coat.

“Mavis and I thought we’d come wait with you. Isn’t your guest supposed to be arriving this morning?”

Harriet shook her head and looked at the drink carrier.

“How did you know there’d be four of us?”

Mavis set a plate of brownies beside the coffee.

“That would be me,” she said as she took her coat off and set it and her purse on the wingback chair in Harriet’s customer reception area. “I ran into Lauren when I was at the store getting chocolate chips to add to the brownies. She was on her way here, and I figured it would take you guys a while to cut all those pieces.”

“If you don’t want company, we can leave,” Beth added.

Lauren grabbed the plate of brownies and clutched them to her chest.

“We’d love to have you stay.”

Mavis looked at Harriet.

Harriet laughed. “I wouldn’t want to see a grown woman cry.”

She looked at Lauren, who set the brownies back on the table.

“Don’t you all have people to wait for?” Harriet asked when they were all settled around the kitchen table, each with what turned out to be a vanilla latte in front of them.

Lauren took a sip of her drink, then set it down.

“My lady comes at three-thirty this afternoon.”

Mavis reached for a brownie.

“Mine is going straight to the reception and then following me home.”

Beth set her cell phone on the table beside her cup.

“My visitor is coming from Portland. She’s going to call me when she reaches Seattle.”

Harriet twirled the plastic travel plug she’d pulled from her drink.

“Sharon should be arriving in the next hour or so. But I guess you knew that, since you’re here waiting with me.”

“You said she was taking an eight o’clock flight to Seattle from Oakland,” Beth reminded her. “If you add a two-and-a-half-hour drive to that plus time to get her car and luggage when she arrived in Seattle…” She glanced at her wristwatch. “…she should get here in about a half-hour or so.”

“And you’re expecting her arrival to be a train wreck? You and Mavis are here for what? To pick up the pieces when I fall apart?”

Aunt Beth reached across the table and patted her hand.

“Now, honey, it’s nothing like that. I just never heard you talk about this woman. You mentioned Lindsay and Kelly, but I’ve never heard you talk about Sharon.”

“There’s a reason for that. Lindsay and Kelly are quilters who had nothing to do with Steve or his friends. I didn’t really know Sharon, so there couldn’t be much of a problem. She probably thought it would be weird if she came to a quilt retreat in my small town and didn’t stay with me.”

“Good point,” Lauren said.

Mavis chewed thoughtfully on her brownie.

“That may be,” she said when she’d swallowed her bite. “But she hasn’t called you since she signed up, has she? Other than to arrange an arrival time? She’s married to your husband’s best friend, and they haven’t so much as mailed you a postcard, and now she’s coming to stay here?” She set the brownie down on her plate. “Something feels off about that.”

“And if everything is fine, it won’t matter that your aunt is here with her friend,” Aunt Beth added.

The two women looked at each other and nodded then turned in unison to look at Harriet.

Lauren smirked. “Do you two practice that?”

Lauren crumpled her napkin and stood up.

“I think I hear a car coming up the driveway.” She looked at Beth and Mavis. “Since you two have the arrival covered, I’m going to drop our puzzle pieces by the church and go home and get some work done before my ex-nun arrives.”

Mavis pulled a second package of brownies from the bag she’d brought.

“What are those?” Harriet asked.

“I brought some store-bought brownies for your guest.”

Harriet raised her left eyebrow in question.

“Never you mind,” Mavis told her.

“I’m out of here,” Lauren announced and exited the kitchen. After a moment, Harriet heard her open the studio door.

“Incoming,” Lauren called out. “Nice car, too,” she said before the door closed.

Harriet got up and went out to greet her guest.

Sharon parked her rented BMW Sports Wagon and got out, stretching as she did so. She left her car in the middle of the circular drive, blocking Aunt Beth’s Beetle.

“You
are
out here in the middle of nowhere, aren’t you,” she said.

“I hope the drive wasn’t too taxing,” Harriet shot back, but if her words hit their mark, Sharon didn’t show it. “Can I help you with your bags?”

“Sure, they’re in the back. It’s open.” She went up the steps past Harriet and into the house.

“No problem,” Harriet said to her back then located the two large suitcases. She struggled first one and then the other into the studio. Sharon came out of the half-bath off the kitchen as she entered.

“Sorry,” she said when she saw Harriet. “I didn’t mean for you to unload my luggage by yourself. My bladder was just bursting after that long drive.”

Harriet was fairly sure the words were an attempt to soften the stern glares her visitor was receiving from Aunt Beth and Mavis.

“Would you like some tea or coffee and brownies?” Mavis asked.

“No, thanks, I don’t eat sugar.”

“These are sugar-free and gluten-free,” Mavis said with a smile.

“I said no.”

Harriet brought one of the suitcases into the kitchen.

“Let me show you to your room so you can rest and freshen up a little before this evening’s mixer.” She didn’t wait for a response, just headed up the stairs.

Harriet let Scooter out of her bedroom, where she’d shut him in before her guest’s arrival, and headed back downstairs.

“What was that all about?” she demanded in a firm whisper.

Mavis gave her a sheepish look.

“I was testing the waters. I figured we might as well find out what we would be dealing with.”

“I’m glad she did,” Aunt Beth said, defending her friend. “Now we know we’ve got a prima donna on our hands.”

Harriet sat down at the table.

“All you’ve done is stirred the hornet’s nest.”

“We’re just trying to help,” Aunt Beth said. “And we’ll help you with her.”

“If this is your idea of help, I’ll take a pass.”

“You say that now, but you’ll appreciate our help. A week is a long time.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Harriet said and grabbed a brownie.

Aunt Beth looked at Mavis as she stood up.

“Our work here is done.”

Mavis laughed.

“We’ll see you at the mixer.”

Chapter 7

The aroma of Jorge’s hors d’oeuvres wafted over the meeting room at the Methodist church. He had prepared spicy shrimp cocktails, guacamole, and smoky queso with blue corn chips, but he’d outdone himself with the quesadillas. To mirror the quilt theme, he’d used red pepper-and-spinach tortillas cut into small rectangles and squares and arranged them to look like quilt blocks. Waiting in the kitchen was his famous flan.

Harriet joined Lauren and her new roommate at the check in table. Her own guest was in the restroom adjusting her makeup, even though they’d just arrived and she looked perfect.

“Wow, Jorge’s outdone himself.”

“No kidding,” Lauren said. “Harriet, meet Jessica.”

Jessica took Harriet’s proffered hand in both of hers.

“Lauren’s told me so much about you. Do you really speak seven languages?”

Harriet looked at Lauren, who shrugged.

“Yes, I do. My parents worked internationally when I was young, and they wanted me to be prepared when I joined them.”

Jessica’s red hair was cut short and gelled into a faux-hawk. Her ears sported half a dozen metal rings.

BOOK: Crazy as a Quilt (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 8)
8.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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