Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series (17 page)

BOOK: Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series
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“Don’t go saying things like that. It’s not fair.”

“Who said I was fair?”

Joe came out of the bedroom, and when he saw Tess he strolled over to check her out. Logan watched Tess bend to pet him.

“Aren’t you a handsome fellow?” she asked him, and he preened, lifting his head and rubbing it against her hand.

Handsome? Logan rolled his eyes. Joe looked like the tough alley cat he’d been before Logan had taken him on. He had a chunk missing out of one ear and a big patch of fur still growing back where the vet had stitched an open wound from a fight the first time Logan took him in.

“I’ll just leave the two of you to get acquainted.”

Tess walked over, sat on the sofa, and patted the cushion beside her. Joe ran to join her and settled, purring, beside her.

“He’s never come once for me when I called him,” Logan muttered as he headed for the bedroom. “Traitor.”

While he was changing, he took a call about a case he was investigating. By the time he returned to the living room, nearly twenty minutes had passed. He found Tess dozing on the sofa, the cat tucked beneath her arm.

Joe opened one eye and stared at him.

“Stealing my girl, eh?”

The cat just blinked and closed his eyes again.

Logan debated waking Tess and decided against it for a few minutes. He sat in a nearby armchair and watched her. Felt . . . right to have her in his space.

He hadn’t really been honest with her, though—he’d never gotten around to looking for a house since they’d been seeing each other. He wasn’t quite at the point of thinking where they’d live if they got married, but he liked her little house a lot. It felt like home to him.

“So why didn’t you wake me?”

Logan opened his eyes and focused on Tess lying on his sofa. “Are you admitting you fell asleep?”

“Yeah.” She glanced down at the cat that slept on. “Once he did I think I just drifted off. Great nap sofa.”

He yawned and checked his watch. “Probably half the people who went to church are taking naps right now. Sacred Sunday tradition.”

“It isn’t just because it’s Sunday,” she said. “Both of us have been working too much overtime. I can’t remember the last time I got enough sleep. And forget about exercise. I haven’t been running in ages.”

She sat up and moved the cat. Joe shifted and didn’t open an eye. “What time is it?”

“A little after three.”

“I’m going to go visit Aunt Kathy.”

“After we take that run you mentioned.”

She lifted her chin. “Yeah. After we run, and I beat you.”

“You mean after you try. It’s a nice cool day, and I’m acclimated to the weather now, even if I wasn’t the last time. You won’t have the advantage today.”

Logan got to his feet and stretched.

“Big talk,” she scoffed and stood. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

He headed for the kitchen. “I’ll get some bottled water. You say goodbye to Romeo there.”

“Hey, don’t call him that. I like him.”

She was checking her cell phone for messages when he returned. “Lori says she’ll be happy to talk to me this evening. She’s at the playground with her kids right now.”

“Good.” He hesitated, then he put the bottles of water on the coffee table, sat down and patted the cushion beside him as she’d done with the cat. “Can we talk for a minute? Not about what we were discussing earlier.”

She gave him a wary look, but she joined him on the sofa. Once again, he reached for her hand, and when she let him take it without reservation, he felt a little relieved.

“I’ve been worried about touching you,” he said at last. “I was afraid that you might be nervous, since your uncle thinks it’s okay to rough up a woman.”

“I didn’t like you calling me dense earlier—” she stopped. “Okay, so you didn’t,” she said quickly when he tried to correct her. “But I was slow to see what he was doing, and I feel badly about it.”

He kissed her hand. “Well, I’m glad you’re not flinching and you feel comfortable around me.”

“I do,” she said and she rose. “But I think it’d be best if we got out of here, don’t you?”

“I think I remember what box I put those etchings in,” he said, as he got up.

“Get the water, Romeo,” she told him as she started for the door. “Bye, Joe. Hope to see you again soon.”

18

T
ess stopped by the hospital again the next afternoon. She frowned when she saw how pale her aunt looked. “We need to talk.”

Aunt Kathy mimed that she couldn’t because of her wired mouth.

“Then I’ll talk,” Tess said easily. She pulled a chair up beside the bed and set her tote bag on the floor. “It’s past time to do something, Aunt Kathy. Before it gets out of hand and you get hurt even worse than this.”

Her aunt turned her head toward the wall.

“I should have seen the signs,” Tess told her. “I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

She watched her aunt as she continued to look away. Lori had told her that her aunt might be resistant—even deny the abuse. But she had to keep trying to get her aunt to get away and get counseling. Abusers seldom stopped. Lori had been worried, too, that a man in Gordon’s position might be able to shield himself from a restraining order or prosecution.

Finally, her aunt turned back, and Tess saw the tears in her eyes. She struggled to say something Tess didn’t understand and waved her hands helplessly.

Tess reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out her notepad. She offered it along with a pen, and the older woman scribbled something and held it out to her.

“Not your fault. You asked me.”

She leaned forward. “I want you to press charges.”

Aunt Kathy shook her head and looked frightened.

“I’ll protect you,” she assured her. “You can come live with me, and we’ll get a restraining order.”

Once again, the woman scribbled furiously. “Can’t cause problems for you.”

“I’m a big girl, Aunt Kathy. I can take care of myself. And you. He can’t do this to you and get away with it.”

The woman’s agitation grew. Tess reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I spoke with a friend of mine. She’s a domestic abuse counselor. I want you to talk to her.”

Once again, her aunt turned her back on her.

“Hey, how’s my girl?” a familiar voice boomed.

Tess watched her aunt’s body tense, and then, she didn’t believe her eyes as her aunt turned slowly and managed a tremulous smile for him.

All the while, she was surreptitiously tucking the notepad and pen under the covers.

Gordon acknowledged Tess with a nod as he strolled to his wife’s bed and leaned down to pat her shoulder. He handed her the bunch of flowers in his hand.

“Talked to the doc, Kathy,” Gordon said as he pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the bed from Tess. “He’s got you scheduled for some tests to see why you lost your balance and fell.”

Tess couldn’t stand to sit here and listen to this. She stood and reached for the flowers. “Let me go get something to put those in.”

Kathy handed them to her and smiled. Her smile faded, when she apparently realized that Tess was staring at her mouth.

A nurse found a vase Tess took back to the room. Gordon was still there, but he was getting to his feet and saying he had to go check in with the chief.

“Don’t know if you’ve heard the chief is going to be here for a couple days,” he told Tess. “He had a mild heart attack.”

“Oh, no, that’s awful,” she said, shocked. “No, I hadn’t heard. I thought he was just here for tests.”

“Lucky for him he was.” Gordon checked his appearance in a mirror by the door. “When he popped the heart attack he was in the right place.”

He glanced at Kathy. “So I’ve been made acting chief. I might not be back here today, but I’ll check with your doc about picking you up tomorrow.”

“Do you mind if I take a few hours personal time to stay with Aunt Kathy?” Tess asked as casually as she could manage.

Gordon shrugged. “Sure. Call your supervisor and tell him I okayed it.”

Tess watched him leave, then turned to her aunt. The woman was staring after her husband with big tears rolling down her face. When she saw Tess looking at her, she gestured for the flowers. Tess handed them to her and was shocked when her aunt threw them at the wastepaper basket a few feet away. Then Kathy pulled out the notepad and pen and scrawled, “No more doghouse flowers!”

“Use that anger, Aunt Kathy!” Tess said urgently. “Use it to make you leave him.”

Kathy wrote on the pad and thrust it at Tess. “You don’t understand!”

Tess picked up the flowers, put them into the wastepaper basket, and then sank down into her chair. “No, I don’t. I just don’t. You can’t let yourself be a punching bag.”

She watched Kathy press her hand to her heart, miming she loved him, and the tears started again. Tess reached over for the box of tissues on the nightstand and placed it on the bed. Then she took her aunt’s hand, held it, and let her cry it out.

A nurse came in a few minutes later with a computer on a rolling cart. She checked Kathy’s vital signs. “How’s the pain? On a scale of one to ten?”

Kathy held up seven fingers.

“I’ll get you something.” She made some entries on her computer screen, then wheeled it out of the room.

“Is there anything I can get you?” When her aunt shook her head, then winced from the pain the movement caused, Tess settled back in her chair.

“You don’t have to stay,” Kathy wrote on the pad.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with me,” Tess said cheerfully.

She drew a quilt square from her tote bag. She smiled when she saw her aunt’s curiosity. “These are for the lighthouse quilt. I’m putting different scenes of sights around St. Augustine as a border around its lighthouse.”

This one was a sailboat riding the crest of waves, something they both often saw on the water around the Old Fort.

“A ship in a harbor is safe but that is not what a ship is built for . . .” Tess finished cross stitching the last few letters of the last word. She placed it in her aunt’s hands and waited for her reaction.

She held her thumb and forefinger a tiny distance apart, and Tess nodded. “I’m trying to make my stitches smaller just like you said.” Kathy nodded and did a thumbs-up.

Tess pulled out another square. This was the last one she had to do some small finishing work on before attaching it to the quilt. She stroked the shiny piece of satin cut in the shape of a ball gown to be sewn on the figure of a young woman. The figure stood beneath the swaying gray strands of Spanish moss hanging from a tree branch near the St. Augustine lighthouse.

Tess glanced up. “It’s Sam. She looked so pretty in her blue prom dress, didn’t she?”

She pinned the dress on and reached into her bag for the piece of blue satin fabric cut for a tiny shawl that matched the one Sam had worn that night.

“Blue,” Tess said. “I wonder why the killer was obsessed with blue.” She looked up at her aunt. “He always takes a piece of blue clothing or blue jewelry from the victims.”

Her aunt made a noise, and Tess looked at her. Goosebumps were dancing across her arms, bare beneath the short-sleeved hospital gown.

“Oh, sweetheart, are you cold?” Tess reached over and started to draw the quilt that lay across the foot of the bed.

A cold hand clamped on hers. Startled, Tess dropped the quilt and looked at her aunt. The woman was staring at the quilt.

“I brought it yesterday,” Tess told her. “I thought it might make you feel better to have something from home to keep you warm. Hospitals can be chilly.”

“Gordon’s mother’s favorite color was blue,” Kathy wrote on the notepad. “Wore it lots. Dressed her kids in it.”

Then Tess felt goose bumps dance across her own skin. All of the simple squares on the quilt were blue.

It had to be a coincidence . . .

Her aunt whimpered. When Tess glanced at her, she saw her rubbing at her temples. Immediately, she felt guilty at not noticing how much pain she was in.

“I wonder what’s taking the nurse so long to bring in your pain meds,” Tess said. “I’ll go find out.” She put the square on her aunt’s bed and went in search of the nurse.

When she returned, Kathy was sitting in her bed clutching the square and staring at it. She looked up at Tess with frightened eyes.

“What is it?” Tess asked, rushing to her side. “I didn’t mean to upset you talking about Sam.”

Kathy shook her head, set the square down and pulled out the notepad. She scribbled furiously and then shoved it into Tess’s hands.

“Call Logan. Get him here. Don’t tell Gordon!”

Logan knocked on the door of Kathy’s hospital room and frowned when he saw the lines of strain around Tess’s mouth when she let him into the room.

“What’s up?”

She glanced up and down the hall before she closed the door and gestured at him to sit.

“I was sitting here working on the lighthouse quilt,” Tess said. “I was working on the square with Sam in her blue prom dress and telling Aunt Kathy that the killer favored blue clothing and jewelry. And I don’t know, Logan, this might be crazy, but when I happened to put it down to pull the quilt up over Aunt Kathy, I suddenly realized . . . Logan, it’s probably a coincidence her quilt is made of all blue pieces.”

“Yeah,” he said slowly, frowning. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.”

“She made it out of blue clothing Gordon brought her.”

Kathy pulled out the pad and began writing him a note. Logan read it, then nodded. “Well, I never met anyone who needed protection less than Tess, but I’ll watch out for her,” he said, his eyes direct on Tess. “But why do you think she needs protection?”

Kathy bent over the pad again, scribbling again. “Do you have photos of the clothing the victims of the serial killer wore?”

Logan showed the note to Tess. “Of course. Why?”

“They wore blue,” Kathy wrote without answering Tess’s question.

Tess sat down and researched on her iPhone, flipping through notes and photos. Then she looked up. “I’ve got them,” she said.

“Let me see,” Kathy wrote.

Tess held out the phone and watched her aunt study the photos. Then Kathy picked up the pen and pad again. “Not sure. Been years. Need you to go to the shop.”

Logan touched her hand. “What’s this about, Kathy?”

“Need you to go to the shop,” she wrote on the pad. “No one can know.” She turned to Tess and gestured for her to open the drawer on the bedside table.

Tess pulled out her aunt’s purse and handed it to her. Kathy searched in it and produced a key. She handed it to Tess and had her return the purse to the table.

“Look in the back of the storage closet,” she wrote on the pad. “There’s a bag of scraps from the quilt. Take them to state lab. Top secret. Do DNA.”

Logan felt a chill. “Whose DNA will we find, Kathy?”

“I hope I’m wrong,” she wrote. “I think from the women who were killed.”

Then she leaned down and picked up the quilt and held it out to them.

“Kathy, you’re not saying you killed these girls?” Logan asked very carefully.

She shook her head violently, then dropped the pad to clutch her head and moan.

“Gordon brought her items of clothing to make that quilt,” Tess said slowly. “He said they were from his sisters.”

Logan stared at Kathy. “You realize what you’re saying? You suspect that Gordon might have killed them?”

“And Sam?” Tess said. Her hand flew to her mouth. “He might have killed Sam?”

She stood and swayed. Logan jumped to his feet and put his hands on her arms.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, but her color was ghastly and her eyes huge, the pupils dilated.

Then she slapped her hand to her mouth and rushed to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Logan followed her and winced when he heard retching.

“Tess! Let me in.”

“I’m all right!” she called out.

When she emerged, she held a damp washcloth to her cheek. “Dry heaves. It was just the shock.”

She walked over to her chair and picked something up from the floor before she sat.

“Aunt Kathy, I—I don’t know what to say.”

She wrote on the pad and held it up. “I hope I’m wrong.”

Tess checked her watch. “The shop is closing in half an hour. Be best to go after everyone’s gone home, so there are no questions. Since she gave us the key, we don’t have to worry about a search warrant.”

“Well,” Logan said after a moment. He looked at Tess. “Talk about a stunner. Imagine if you put the pieces together after all this time.”

Kathy lay back against her pillows, looking spent. She glanced over at Tess and held out her hand. When Tess didn’t understand, she pointed at a piece of fabric that lay on her bed.

Tess gave it to her aunt, who then handed it to Logan. He stared at the piece of material with an appliqué of a figure of a girl in a silky blue dress. She carried a shawl and walked under trees near the St. Augustine lighthouse.

“The square just triggered something,” Tess told him. “Then I put it down on the bed while I went to see about Aunt Kathy’s meds and when I came back, I looked at the blue memory quilt. Something clicked. She noticed it, too. Comes from being a cop’s wife, I guess.”

When Logan handed Tess back the square, she folded it up and tucked it into her tote. Then she went still.

“Tess? You okay?”

She made a sound he didn’t understand. He got up and walked over to her, wondering if she was feeling sick again. He picked up the wastepaper basket and brought it to her.

BOOK: Scraps of Evidence: Quilts of Love Series
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