Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As Desired

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."

Mavis then changed the conversation to the safer topic of the quilt show for the rest of the trip.

It was just after one o'clock when Harriet drove down the wooded driveway and into the clearing in front of Mavis's cottage.

"I'll see you tomorrow at Pins and Needles,” Mavis said. “Try and get some rest."

"I'll do that."

Harriet realized she'd forgotten to ask Mavis how to get hold of Lauren to return her damaged quilt-Lauren did her own quilting, so Aunt Beth wouldn't have her in the business address book. She decided to swing by Pins and Needles on her way home. Marjory was sure to have contact information.

She glanced at her watch. There should be time for her to drop Lauren's quilt and still be ready for Sarah.

A class was in progress in the large classroom when she entered the shop. From the front aisle, she could see seven women sitting at sewing machines, their attention on a small dark woman at the front of the room. She headed toward the room; and as she got closer, she could see that Lauren was one of the students.

She retreated back to her car and got the quilt, folding it over her arm as she started down the aisle toward the classroom. She had planned to wait until the teacher stopped lecturing before she entered, but Lauren caught sight of her-and the quilt-before that happened.

Jorge at Tico's Tacos three blocks away could have heard the shriek she let out.