Quilt As Desired (17 page)

Once she had the quilt in place, Harriet decided to go ahead and finish it. She stopped at eight o'clock for a quick salad and boiled egg then continued stitching until she was done.

At ten o'clock, Fred pushed through the door from the kitchen into the studio and meowed.

"I know—it's time to go to bed, and this time by ourselves."

She clipped the thread and turned the long-arm machine off. She could unload it when she got home from Tacoma tomorrow.

She was tired, but glad she was done. She picked up Fred and carried him upstairs.

"Shall we swing by Dannay's Donut Shop on our way out to the highway?” Mavis asked. “I'll buy."

"Fine with me,” Harriet said. “Just don't tell Aunt Beth—she's got me on a diet of lettuce and water."

"Your aunt Beth is one of Dannay's best customers."

"Aunt Beth also believes in the old ‘do as I say, not as I do’ brand of parenting."

"This'll be our little secret,” Mavis said and smiled.

Traffic slowed to a crawl as they approached the city, and it was nearly nine-thirty by the time Harriet pulled into the parking lot of the show hall. A sign on the entrance door indicated the show didn't open to the public until ten.

"Good,” Harriet said and pointed at the sign. “We have time to make whatever changes we need to before the show opens.” She pulled the door open. No one was in the ticket booth.

"Hello?” she called.

Mavis crossed the lobby to the office door. She tapped on it with her knuckle and, receiving no response, opened it and leaned her head in.

"Nobody's home,” she said and shut it again.

"Let's go fix the display, and then we can try to find someone,” Harriet suggested.

The safety lights were the only illumination in the cavernous hall.

"It's kind of creepy in here without the big lights on,” Mavis said.

Darkened quilts swayed gently in the air current created by the building's ventilation system. She moved closer to Harriet.

"What's that noise?” she whispered.

Harriet stopped. A dull thwack was followed by a metallic jangle.

"Hear that? It sounds like it's coming from the next row."

"That's where our exhibit is,” Harriet said. “Come on."

She strode into the next row. The center quilt in the Loose Threads display was jerking and bucking. The rod pocket ripped.

"Stop!” she yelled.

The quilt went limp. She heard a scuffling sound. Each quilt in the display billowed in turn, as if someone were pushing it out from behind.

She ducked behind the row but was only in time to see a door swing shut. She pushed her way back out between two quilts.

"This is really weird,” Mavis said. “Looks like someone was trying to rip Lauren's quilt down from the display."

"Lauren's quilt?” Harriet said. “Lauren entered her quilt as an individual display, remember? We hung it up at the front."

Mavis held up a corner of the large quilt with its bottom edge now sagging to the floor.

"This is definitely Lauren's. There's no mistaking the image of Kathy the Kurious Kitty."

"I wonder what it's doing back here."

"Well, wherever it belongs, it needs to be repaired before it can go on display anywhere. Here, help me get it down."

"Wait,” Harriet said. “Let me get a chair so we can unhook the rod from the hanging chains.” She went to the end of the aisle and pulled one from a cart that had been placed there for the use of exhibitors.

"Who's there?” a voice called. A woman in a wheat-colored denim jumper came down the main aisle toward her. When she got closer, Harriet could see it was Jeri, the registrar they'd met on their previous visit.

"It's Harriet Truman, and Mavis Willis,” she said. “We're with the Loose Threads display."

"No one is supposed to be in here until ten o'clock.” She crossed her arms tight across her chest, her alligator loafer tapping a nervous rhythm on the cement floor.

"We stopped at the office on our way in, but no one was there."

"That didn't make it okay for you to come back here."

Well, excuuuuse me, Harriet thought.

"It wasn't clear from our conversation yesterday if you were taking Avanell's quilt down or not,” she explained. “We wanted to rearrange the display if that was the case."

"You need to talk with your group members.” Jeri paused to allow her contempt to envelope them. “Lauren Sawyer already spoke to me last night. She instructed us to remove her entry from the individual display and put it on the rod Ms Jalbert's had been hanging on. She said the group agreed that quilt should be off display until a decision was made about its classification."

"Excuse me,
Jeri
,” Harriet said, emphasizing the woman's first name. “I think it's you who needs to talk to
your
group—your security group. When Mavis and I came in here this morning, someone was in the process of trying to steal Lauren Sawyer's quilt. It's been damaged, and believe me, I'm going to let her know on whose watch it happened. We're going to have to take it down and repair it, if it even can be repaired. I'm sure you'll be hearing from Lauren shortly."

"But it's too late to make a substitution,” Jeri spluttered. “The public will be entering in fifteen minutes. We can't have an empty rod. It will spoil this whole row."

"Look, lady...” Harriet was ready to unload her frustration on this narrow-minded woman.

"Where is Avanell Jalbert's quilt?” Mavis interrupted.

Harriet glared at Jeri but kept her mouth shut.

"We have it in the office,” Jeri said and stiffened as she guessed the implied solution.

"The group just decided it wants Avanell's on display while you make your decision about its classification,” Harriet said. She could see from Jeri's face the woman didn't like that idea but knew she couldn't oppose it without the consent of the show committee.

Jeri turned on her heel. “I'll get the quilt from the office,” she said over her shoulder as she stalked away, squaring her shoulders in an obvious attempt to regain her composure.

"She's just a breath of fresh air,” Mavis said with a smile that was little more than a grimace.

"Here,” Harriet said. “Hold my chair, and I'll get Lauren's quilt down."

Mavis held the folding chair steady while Harriet stood on it to release the hanging rod from the chains suspended from the ceiling. She bundled the quilt to her chest and stepped down.

"Boy, someone really wanted this down,” Mavis said as she ran her fingers over the torn red batik on the back. The rod pocket had been pulled loose along nearly half its length. It wouldn't have been so bad if the pocket had become unstitched, but this wasn't the case. The pocket had been torn from the backing where it had been stressed.

Harriet laid the pocket back in its proper position. “I suppose she could take the binding off the top edge and then reapply a larger rod pocket to cover the damaged area."

Mavis ran her gnarled fingers over the pocket and the torn fabric under it.

"It will have to be a fairly large pocket, and if she does that, it might show when the quilt is actually hanging on it. We'll have to think about this a little. She might have to put a new piece of backing on along this top edge."

"But then she'd have to pick out her stitching in that area and re-do it."

"I didn't say it was going to be easy. Here, take the other end. Let's fold it up."

Jeri returned with Avanell's quilt clutched to her chest.

"You realize the committee is meeting at one o'clock this afternoon, and they may well decide to take this right back down again."

"We'll take our chances,” Mavis said, and pulled the quilt from her grasp. Mavis turned her back on the woman and pulled the folding chair back into place under the display hooks.

Jeri stormed back down the aisle toward the office.

"I thought she'd never leave,” Mavis said. “I was hoping I wasn't going to have to get up on that chair."

Harriet handed her the wooden dowel that would slip into the rod pocket. They fed the rod into the opening, and when it was in place, Harriet climbed onto the chair and placed it into the hooks.

"How does it look?” she asked.

"Scoot it a little to the left."

She did as instructed.

"That's better,” Mavis said.

"Funny, I never noticed before that Lauren used the same backing fabric Avanell did."

"Yeah, it's funny, all right,” Mavis agreed. “Lauren tends to attract coincidences like that."

"I guess it was all for naught. I don't see how she can get her quilt repaired in time to make any kind of showing here."

"You never know with that girl. I guess we'll see."

"Can we look at the other displays, as long as we're here?"

Mavis looked at her watch. “It's still a few minutes until opening, but what the heck. The worst old Jeri can do is throw us out, but I don't think she'll bother."

Harriet was amazed by the variety in the exhibit. It was hard to believe that quilters could continue to come up with new and different ways to combine color and shape, and render the result in fabric.

Several groups were following the popular trend of combining a book club with quilting. The members read a book chosen by the group then designed and created quilts that depicted the designers’ take on the story. Journal quilts also continued to be popular. She stopped in front of a clothesline-style display of journal pages.

"I don't see how they have time to do a quilt every month all year."

"They're a lot smaller than a bed quilt,” Mavis pointed out.

"Yeah, but they're a lot more dense with imagery and stitching, plus they still have to back and bind them, and that's time-consuming no matter the size."

"It's all about priorities, I guess."

They spent another half-hour looking at the exhibits, paying special attention to the other groups in their category. Jeri was nowhere to be seen, which suited Harriet just fine.

"I worked on Sarah's quilt last night. All I have to do is take it off the machine when we get back, so I'm sure I have time to stop for lunch, if you're interested."

"I know a really great cafe in Gig Harbor,” Mavis said.

"Sounds good to me."

"Good. That'll give us time to talk about your love life while we're driving."

"That's going to be a short discussion, given that I don't have a love life."

"Honey, I know you were thinking of your late husband when Connie was asking you about your date. It'll never be the same. No one can replace Steven, and no one expects you to try, but there is a lot of room between that and sitting home. Steven wouldn't have wanted you to sit home for the rest of your life, would he?"

"I don't know,” Harriet said, tears welling up in her eyes. “It turns out I didn't really know him at all."

"No man wants his wife to mourn him forever. Besides, I'm not saying you need to go out and get married again. You just need to go out. So, how was Harold?"

"You probably know more about him than I do."

"Generally that's true in Foggy Point, but Mr. Harold Minter is new to the area. He moved here from Seattle last year when Bertrand hired him."

"Hmm,” Harriet said. “How was Harold? Well, we had a really great dinner. His friend is a good chef. His poached salmon was moist and flaky, and the grapefruit sorbet was to die for. We were too stuffed to eat dessert, but I saw the tray on our way out, and they looked very chocolate and very tempting."

"So far you've made a great case for marrying the chef. Now, how was
Harold
?"

"He was...” She paused. “Polite. Punctual. He drove the speed limit."

"Just what I always look for in a man,” Mavis said and looked out the window, preventing Harriet from seeing her expression.

A light rain began to fall, and within a few miles, the sky opened up and it poured in earnest. Visibility dropped, and the wind picked up. Harriet needed all her concentration to keep the car on the road.

At last, she pulled into the graveled parking lot of a log cabin-style building.

"Here we are,” Mavis said. The sign over the door read Alice's Log Cabin Restaurant.

Inside, painted wooden picnic tables were covered with red-and-white checkered cotton tablecloths. Small tin buckets held paper napkins and mismatched pairs of ceramic salt and pepper shakers graced each table. A large brick fireplace filled one wall, its cheery flames providing welcome warmth.

"What do you recommend?” Harriet asked when they were seated.

Mavis recommended the Reuben sandwich, and it turned out to be delicious. The bread was dark, the sauerkraut crisp and tart. The corned beef was flavorful and not too salty. Best of all, the cheese was melted but not greasy.

"How did you find this place?” Harriet asked when they had finished eating.

"Oh, you know how word travels in a community like ours. People are always driving back and forth to either Tacoma or Seattle, and eventually, someone in Foggy Point has been to every place there is along the route."

"This was a great find, whoever found it."

The rain had let up while they were in the restaurant. The wind gusted in puffs but had lessened. Harriet hoped both wind and rain would hold off until they were safely back in Foggy Point.

"Do you believe what Lauren was saying about Aiden being the most likely suspect in Avanell's death?” she asked after they were back on the highway.

"I don't want to believe it,” Mavis said. “But someone killed her, and likely as not, it will turn out to be someone we know. Those police shows I watch say you're more likely to be killed by a loved one than a stranger."

"Aren't crimes of passion usually between a man and a woman in a romantic relationship?"

"Crimes of greed aren't."

"From what people are saying, it seems like Avanell didn't have anything left to be greedy over,” Harriet countered.

"You can't believe what you hear on the gossip line. Avanell might have had money stashed away that we don't know about."

"Aiden just doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would be hung up on money."

"You sound pretty sure for someone who isn't interested in him."