Arlene Sachitano - Quilt As You Go

"That's a slippery slope to go down,” Harriet said. “If we're questioning everything, Ilsa and Gerald might have had a relationship before he left. He did travel, didn't he?"

"You all aren't old enough to really know the man. I'd bet my life he wasn't having an affair on Mavis,” Beth said. “Unless Terry is fourteen, he's not Gerard's son. That doesn't preclude the possibility that he's Ilsa's son."

"And that might give him a good motive for killing Gerard,” Harriet suggested. “What would he have against Carlton that would have him sizing up the factory?"

"It's not a perfect theory yet, but it does seem to be a bit of a coincidence that Gerard comes back, followed by Ilsa and then it turns out Terry showed up at the same time,” DeAnn said.

"I think you guys are way off track, but let me dig on the internet about Terry,” Lauren said. “I'm not holding out a lot of hope, though. He seems kind of sharp, which means he's probably not using his real name and has probably lied about everything else, too."

"I've got to check up on Carla tomorrow,” Aunt Beth said. “I'll probe a little and see what Terry has disclosed to her. Who knows? He might have told her something useful."

"Call if you get anything,” Lauren said and stood up. “I've got to go.” She pulled a few bills from her purse and left them on the table.

"I better go, too,” Robin said. DeAnn left with her.

The remainder of the group stayed until the nachos were gone.

"I had Lauren swing by my house on our way here so I could get my car,” Jenny said. “I can drop you both off on my way home."

"Thanks, that would be great,” Harriet said, and Connie nodded agreement.

With that settled, they left the back room and threaded their way through the dining area.

"Oh, hi,” came Bebe's girlish voice from a booth by the door. “What are you gals doing here?"

"Eating Mexican food,” Harriet replied. “What about you?"

"Me and Carlton are having dinner. He's in the little boy's room."

"Are you ladies leaving me?” Jorge said as he set two plates on the table. Each was covered with dark-green torn lettuce pieces with two thin strips of chicken breast laid in a cross through the middle.

"You didn't cook these in oil, did you?” Bebe asked.

"Never,” he said and turned his back to her. He rolled his eyes to the ceiling and mouthed a prayer for salvation. “You need picnic lunches again, you let me know,” he said to the Loose Threads, and went back to his kitchen.

"Is that all you're eating?” Connie asked.

" Carlton and I are going to Hawaii in a week and we need to be in swimsuit shape,” she said.

They all knew she'd been born in swimsuit shape- Carlton was the one being whipped into it. It was equally clear, to everyone but Bebe, that no amount of starving and exercising was going to erase his Humpty-Dumpty shape.

"Were you having a picnic in the dark?” Bebe asked.

Connie looked at Jenny and Harriet.

"We all went up to Miller Hill Park to get mineral water. Nadene at the Beauty Barn told us it would soften our calluses if we soaked our feet in it."

"That's funny, she didn't tell me that. She told me to rub olive oil on my feet and then put on clean cotton socks before I go to bed."

"You're probably not old enough to need the mineral water,” Jenny said smoothly.

"Hi, ladies,” Carlton said. “Are you here for dinner, too?"

"No, we were just leaving.” Connie ushered the other two out the door.

"Didn't we want to ask Carlton about what we saw at the factory tonight?” Jenny asked.

"I want to try Gerry first,” Harriet said. “Somehow, I'd feel more confident in what he said. Not that I have any reason to think Carlton would lie to us."

"I know what you mean,” Connie said. “You get the feeling Carlton is probably the last to know a lot that goes on at that company."

Four of the Willis brothers were assembled in Harriet's kitchen when she got home. An empty pizza box full of greasy, wadded-up paper napkins lay discarded on the island bar.

"Hi, guys,” she said as she came through the connecting door. Fred jumped from the counter to weave through her legs. “What's wrong, Fred? Wouldn't anyone feed you?"

"That cat is a con artist,” Harry said. “Each one of us fed him as we arrived. He's got a great starving cat shtick."

"He does know how to work it,” Harriet agreed and smiled.

"We've found out a few things while you were out,” Ben said.

"You mean James found something out,” Harry corrected.

"Let me put my purse down and get a cup of tea,” Harriet said. “I've learned a few things, too. Or at least, I've learned enough to have a few more questions."

Harry jumped up and put the kettle on. Ben opened the dishwasher and pulled Harriet's newly cleaned mug from the rack. Harriet took an Earl Grey tea bag from a box in the pantry closet. She sat down, and when the water boiled, Ben poured for her then made himself a cup.

"So,” she said as she dunked her bag up and down. “What did you guys learn?"

"No fair,” Harry said. “Ladies first."

"Hey,” Ben said and playfully slapped his brother's shoulder. “It's her house. She gets to go whenever she wants."

"Grow up, you two,” James Willis said. “Sorry, Harriet. “I've been investigating my mom's widow's benefits,” he explained.

Harry and Ben joined Harriet at the table while Gerry sat with James at the island bar.

"The first thing I did was obtain a copy of Dad's death certificate. Or, I should say, I attempted to obtain a copy. Since we now know he wasn't dead, I wondered how thorough the set-up had been. Of course, there is none on file, either in Washington State or in Malaysia."

"You called Malaysia?” Harry said.

James glared at his younger brother then continued. “I got the death certificate Mom received with Dad's…” He made quote-mark motions with the first two fingers of both hands. “…ashes. A simple internet search and comparison quickly demonstrated it was a fake."

"Didn't we already know that, pretty much as soon as Dad turned up dead again?” Ben asked.

"Good question,” James said. He got up and started pacing between the island and the table as if he were pleading a case in court. “We knew his certificate had to be a fake, but what this tells us is that it wasn't a sophisticated fake. A child could have made Dad's death certificate. It would have failed under any scrutiny."

"So, again, what does all that tell us?” Ben asked, his voice rising at the end of the sentence.

"It tells us that Mom's widow's benefits were not through an insurance company. Any insurance company would have recognized the certificate was fraudulent. That means her benefits must be coming from a private annuity or something similar."

"Not to sound like your brother,” Harriet said with a smile at Ben, “but didn't we already know that?"

"We knew her checks came from a numbered account. I submitted a request to the bank for the identity of the originator of the account. It was set up in a way that would insure Mom would always get the money no matter what happened to the original account holder, the original administrator or even the bank itself.

"Annuities are set up for minor heirs all the time, but this had some unusual features. I'm taking the position that Mom is the ultimate owner of the account and therefore has a right to all the account records and history. Banking is not my area of law, so I'm basically blowing smoke and hoping they will go for it."

"You sly dog,” Harry said.

"I'd almost guarantee Dad didn't set up that account. We need to know who did, and I'm hoping the identity of that person will get us a step closer to finding out what the heck is going on,” James said. “My investigator will try to get a name if he can, but he needs time. Look, I know you were all hoping for more, but it's like any case-you have to build it step by step."