Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As You Go

"Okay, well, thanks,” Harriet said, and Lynn flipped a switch on her phone and announced Harriet's presence into her headset.

"He'll be right out,” she said.

Her phone rang, and she became engrossed with a customer placing a sizable order, or at least that's what it sounded like on Lynn 's side of the conversation, which she was broadcasting to the whole room. She was obviously used to having the place to herself.

"Harriet,” Carlton boomed a few minutes later as he entered from the hallway. “Come in.” He held his arm out, gesturing for her to precede him back into the hallway. “What's up?” he asked.

Another man might have asked “How can I help you?” but it wasn't in Carlton 's nature to think of others.

"Are you making a new product?” she asked him when they were both seated in his office, him behind and her in front of his desk.

"Well,” he said, and stopped twirling the pencil he'd been toying with. “Why do you ask?"

Good question, Harriet thought. “I heard someone say they thought you were going to start a new product line, and I wondered if that meant you would be hiring. I know someone who's looking for work.” It sounded lame even to her, but Carlton didn't seem to notice.

" Carlton, baby, let's get out of here,” Bebe said as she sauntered into the office. She was wearing a pale-pink tube top and dark blue denim skirt that was almost conservative, falling only six inches above her tanned knees. “We have lunch reservations at Bella Italia in Port Angeles."

"I didn't think they were open for lunch,” Harriet said.

"Oh, hi, Harriet,” Bebe said. “They aren't open to the public till four, but they're opening early for us.” She looked at the pink-faced, gold Juicy Couture charm watch on her left wrist. “Say bye, Carlton, we gotta go."

Carlton got up and grabbed his linen sport coat then plucked his car keys from a ceramic ashtray on his desk.

"Sorry, Harriet, I've got to run,” he said, and left through a back door to the outside.

"Don't worry, I'll show myself out,” Harriet said but didn't move. As long as she was here, she might as well have a look around.

She stood and glanced through the open door. Lynn was still sitting at her desk and talking on her headset. Harriet went around the desk and sat in Carlton 's chair. There were stacks of papers and files on both sides of the center blotter. The first folder she opened contained a flyer from a company that supplied premium items with the company logo on them. A note clipped to the flyer instructed Carlton to pick his two favorite colors for the insulated cup holders the company would be handing out at the annual picnic.

The next folder contained his credit card bill and a stack of receipts that looked like they matched the charges. The third folder was the information she'd asked him for-a list of projects Gerald had worked on. She wasn't sure how it was going to help, but she took the list from the folder, folded it in half and tucked it into her sling.

A quick glance through the remaining files and papers revealed more of the same-busy work. The company managers obviously gave Carlton just enough to keep him busy the few hours he was in the office but kept him far away from the actual running of the business.

After another quick check into the hallway, she returned to Carlton 's desk and tried the drawers. They were locked, all of them. She yanked on the handle of what should be a file drawer. Not only was the drawer locked but it appeared to have more than the usual flimsy device that was standard issue on most office furniture.

Carlton 's bookshelves held a few titles on business subjects that appeared to have never had their spines cracked. The rest of the shelves were filled with framed pictures of Carlton and his parents, Carlton and Bebe, and Bebe standing by an array of pink cars and boats, wearing an assortment of pink nautical outfits.

Harriet took one last look around the office then stepped quietly into the hallway and left through the same back door Carlton and Bebe had used twenty minutes earlier.

Aiden was standing on the porch to the vet hospital stretching his arms over his head then reaching down and touching his toes when Harriet drove past. She pulled into the next driveway she came to and turned around.

"Did you finish your surgeries?” she asked when she'd parked and gotten out of her car. He met her on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, I just finished. Do you have time for a cup of coffee?"

"Sure,” she said. “I wanted to ask you something anyway."

"Let me tell them where I'm going,” he said with a nod back toward the clinic.

"I'll drive,” he said when he'd returned. “I can't believe you're safe tooling around with that thing on your arm."

"Lucky for me there's no traffic to speak of this time of day."

He helped her into the car and then drove them the dozen blocks to Annie's Coffee Shop on Ship Street. Harriet sat at a table while he ordered their drinks. He was still wearing blue surgical scrubs, and Harriet couldn't help but admire how well he filled them out.

"What are you staring at?” he asked when he came back and sat down opposite her at the dark wood table.

"I was just noting how well your scrubs fit,” she admitted.

"You do know what we wear under these, don't you?"

"You're going to make me blush if you keep talking like that."

Aiden twined his fingers in hers. “Is that a bad thing?” he said with a roguish smile.

She was saved from answering by the arrival of their drinks-Aiden's cafe Americano her tamer hot cocoa.

"I had an interesting morning,” she said when Annie had returned to the coffee bar. She recounted her talk with Carla and her visit to Foggy Point Fire Protection.

"I know you like Terry, but I still think there's something going on with him, and I think Carla's starting to suspect something, too. She didn't quite say it that way, but she knows something isn't right."

"I hate to say it, but I'm starting to wonder myself. I didn't want to say anything to Carla, but it seems weird to me he was at the house night and day for a couple of weeks and now all of a sudden he's only around in the morning. But he claims he's on vacation, and he says he hasn't found anything out about his dad. If that's true, what's he doing at night that's keeping him from seeing Carla?"

"That's what I was wondering. And I have an idea."

"Now I'm afraid."

"It's not dangerous or anything. I think we should follow him. Tonight."

"I knew I should be afraid. We aren't detectives. You're a quilter and I'm a vet-we don't follow people."

"But we could. I think Carla knows where he's staying. We follow him, and when we find out he joined a bowling league and is practicing his game every evening, we can tell Carla and then she won't be worried that she's done something wrong."

"What if we follow him and he goes to the docks and picks up a drug shipment? What then?"

She didn't say anything.

"Didn't think of that, did you? We might find out things we don't want to know."

"If he's a drug dealer or worse we do need to know that. It might break Carla's heart, but she needs to know if it's something like that."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but okay, say we're going to follow Terry. Do you have any idea how to do that without being detected immediately?” he asked.

"I have a few ideas,” she said with a smile. She picked up her cup and took a sip.

"Since I did early surgery I can be off by four.” He took a drink from his cup.

"Carla invited me to dinner at your house tonight. She wants to do another practice dinner. I'll call her and see how early we can do it."

"Shall I pick you up on my way home?"

"No, my plan requires us each to have a car."