The Quilt - Leann Sweeney

Ed had flicked on the lights and was leading us toward the back room. “That proves the point I’ve been trying to make my whole life. Trash can be treasure. We’re a nation of wasters. Throw everything out before it’s served its purpose. And that purpose isn’t always what a thing mighta been made for in the first place.”

I’d never thought about the world quite like that before, but he did have a point.

The remnants of the computer were laid out on an old carpet in the office—keyboard cracked in two with all kinds of missing keys sitting alongside what was once a tower. It was mostly shattered and the back was missing. And there was also a mass of circuits, ribbon wires and other pieces that had been rendered nearly unrecognizable by a good smashing.

Candace, hands on her hips, stared down at the mess. “Whoa. Exactly what did you think you could salvage from this, Ed?”

“Don’t know,” said Ed. “That’s the fun of it.”

She took out her cell and punched several keys. When someone on the other end answered, she said, “Sorry to bother you at home, but I might have found some evidence that needs collecting.” She listened for a second and said, “Yes, the Wilkerson case. Which I am not working, by the way. I just happened to hear about this wrecked computer and thought I’d check it out.”

Her cheeks reddened as she listened some more. Then she gave our location and hung up. “The chief’s coming,” she said. “He wants to see for himself.”

Ed said, “The dump’s a mucky place. Let me check if it’s dried out enough—”

Candace grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch it.”

He stopped and gave her a confused look. “But there was some nasty stuff in that dump, and I wouldn’t want you or the chief to get all dirty.”

I said, “That’s okay, Ed. Candace is worried about fingerprints and other stuff you and I probably know nothing about.”

He nodded and smiled. “I get it. If you’re worried about fingerprints, you won’t find mine ’cause I always wear gloves when I pull stuff out of the dump. Heavy-duty ones on account of the rats.”

My skin crawled at the thought.

Candace seemed pleased and said, “Ed is always careful with things. I’ve been here more than once looking for stolen goods, haven’t I, Ed?”

“You and every officer in town,” Ed said. “Hope I sometimes make your job easier.”

“You do indeed.” Candace knelt and stared at what she hoped was the evidence she so desperately wanted. “Wish I understood computers better. Don’t know what if any of this mess will tell us a story.”

“I can call Karen’s boy and ask him to come over. He knows computers inside and out,” Ed said.

“Tom fixed mine up with a wireless network in a hurry,” I agreed.

“We have to leave this to the state computer forensic people,” Candace said.

“If you say so,” Ed said. “But you ask me, Tom’s your best bet.”

She said, “We don’t need—”

I gave the still-crouching Candace a little kick in the butt and said, “I’m certain the police will call on Tom if they need help.” That surely wasn’t true, but Ed had been nothing but kind to us and she didn’t need to be so dismissive.

She stood and looked at me as if to say, “What is wrong with you?”

I almost laughed. I wanted to say, “Payback for the toe crushing,” but instead I said, “Ed seems quite proud of Tom’s skills.”

He smiled broadly. “Been with Karen a while now, and I’ve tried to do right by the both of them. He’s had his share of trouble, mostly thanks to Karen losing her way for a spell, but he’s a fine man.”

We heard the door open and Candace called, “That you, Chief?”

Baca appeared in the office door and nodded at Ed. “Good to see you.” All I got was a hard stare before he focused on the computer wreckage.

Candace started to explain, but he stopped her and began asking Ed questions. After he had the when, why, where and how of Ed’s find, he looked at Candace. “You got your camera and kit?”

You’d have thought Billy Cranor had just asked her on a date. “Got my own kit and camera, so yes, sir.” She was gone in a flash.

Baca turned to me. “You heard about this computer while you were visiting Daphne Wilkerson? Why were you over there?”

I should have known this question was coming, but I was woefully unprepared. I had no fantastic, smooth answer that would satisfy a skeptic like him. I explained how I’d helped her and called Ed for packing material. I finished by saying, “I—I felt like it was the right thing to do—to pay my respects.”

“Really?” Baca said. “And then she asked you to find her packing peanuts? How did you two become so friendly so fast? Because, you know, she didn’t seem the buddy-buddy type to me.”

“She’s had a rough time with her dad,” I said.

“But you two are now fast friends, it would seem,” he said. “Aren’t you the miracle worker? Was Candace over at the Pink House with you?”

Before I could speak, Ed said, “Didn’t see that station wagon Candace races around town in when I was there, Mike. Girl’s gonna get herself hurt one of these days. Drives fast as blue blazes.”

Baca’s narrowed eyes hadn’t left my face, but Candace’s return with the fingerprint kit and camera interrupted whatever he was about to say.

While Baca directed Candace on what photos he wanted, I mouthed a “thank you” at Ed. He nodded knowingly.

Soon Ed was hunting up a box to transport the computer and keyboard off the premises. Seemed Candace could not get any decent prints from what she’d dusted, but listening to her and Baca talk, I guessed there was something else they could try as far as printing the parts and pieces.

While Baca carefully carried the box outside with Candace on his heels, I looked at Ed. I didn’t care what Candace said; he’d found it and he should be paid. “How much do I owe you for that?”

“Nothing. Police come and take something, I don’t get a paycheck and I shouldn’t. Had plenty of stolen stuff pass through my hands and I’m pretty good at figurin’ out when something’s not right with a swap or a sale.”

“I’ll bet you are,” I said with a grin.

His brow creased. “This machine’s not one of those times, though. I thought it got all broke because of the frustratin’ nature of computers. Never woulda known it might be important if not for you askin’ this afternoon.”

“I hope it yields some kind of clue. Murderers should not go free,” I said.

Ed checked his watch. “Man like me who gets up at the crack of dawn needs to be in bed by this time. You riding with Candace? ’Cause I’d be glad to drop you at home.”

“No, she’ll give me a ride.” I wanted to take him up on his offer, but we had already inconvenienced him enough.

But he seemed well aware I would have rather ridden with him, because he said, “Then I wish you luck on reaching your destination in one piece.” And with that he gave me a commiserating wink.

Twenty-one

Iarrived home to find three unhappy cats. I’d spent the entire day away and hadn’t even remembered to turn on Animal Planet . Though I’d checked the cat-cam several times, they, of course, had no idea I’d been checking on them. Maybe one day Tom could make the system interactive and I could talk to them, too.

After they got over their snit, which took only about fifteen minutes, we played with feathers and fake snakes and I eased my guilt by giving them some of that fancy food that costs about a buck a can. I heard purring as I left the kitchen and headed for a hot bath. I hadn’t done this much physical work since John and I had moved in last year, and every muscle was barking. By the time I put my head on the pillow, three cats with fish breath were ready to settle in for the night. I don’t think it took me thirty seconds to fall asleep.