Quilt By Association

Rodney looked at him intently then said “Okay,” and let them lead him out of the station.

After another minute had passed, Detective Morse came through the side door again.

'Sorry about that,” she said. “I feel sorry for that poor man, I really do.'

'So, are you still working on the case?” Harriet asked. Aunt Beth nudged her, but it was too late-her question was out there.

'I wish what the officer said was true, but the fact is, we don't have any leads. The lab is processing what little forensic evidence we have, but we don't have much to go on. Ms. Obote isn't from around here, so we don't have any known associates to question. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but we don't even know for sure where the actual crime scene is. If you ladies can add any more to your statements, that would be helpful, but even if you'd seen her collapse in Dr. Jalbert's yard that wouldn't help much.'

'It seems like she came to town to con Aiden,” Harriet said. “She was waiting for him to return from eastern Washington. I don't understand why someone would kill her. She hadn't even made her play yet.'

'Why do you think Ms. Obote was going to con Dr. Jalbert?'

'She had a baby she claimed was her sister's, and that her sister had died and asked her to deliver the baby to Aiden. I told this all to Detective Sanders.'

Detective Morse raised her left eyebrow.

'Did you, now?” she said, more to herself than to Beth and Harriet. “I take it the baby is not Dr. Jalbert's.'

'No,” Harriet said in a firm voice. “He knew nothing about it, and in fact says he'll be very surprised if it's Nabirye Obote's baby.'

'Where's the baby now?” Detective Morse asked.

'She's in foster care,” Aunt Beth answered quickly.

'Well, this is something, anyway. Tell me the name of the baby's alleged mother again.'

Harriet told her. “Aiden has a call in to her. He did work with her in Africa before he came back to Foggy Point,” she added.

'It's strange Mr. Miller didn't mention a baby.'

'He claims he knew nothing about the baby or the sister in Africa,” Harriet said.

'You've spoken to him?” Morse asked.

Harriet ducked her head. “I did run into him at dinner one night,” she said sheepishly.

'I'm pretty sure you've heard this before, but you need to let the police do the detecting. People who commit crimes are dangerous. Officer Nguyen told me you've had some experience with that. He said you got a nasty bump on the head. Next time, you might not be so lucky. If you hear anything, see anything or, heck, even think anything related to this case, you call me immediately.” She pulled a business card from her shirt pocket and wrote a number on the back. “That's my cell number. Call me.'

Harriet felt like a little girl in the principal's office.

Detective Morse turned to Aunt Beth, who handed her a thin pattern book.

'Here's that pattern you asked about.'

'Thanks,” she said and leafed through the booklet. “This looks perfect for my sister's baby. And by that, I mean it looks like I could finish it in time.'

'If you need any help, give me a call,” Aunt Beth said. “I'm in the phone book.'

'Thanks for taking the time to drop it by. And please, keep your niece out of the detecting business, for her own sake.'

'Will do,” Beth said and nudged Harriet toward the door.

'Will do?” Harriet repeated when they were back at the car.

'What did you want me to say? I wasn't about to tell her I was your accomplice. Then she'd never tell us anything.'

'If I'm not mistaken, she didn't tell us anything. We told her stuff.'

'She will,” Aunt Beth said. “Once she trusts us. You saw how she acted when you talked about the baby. That Detective Sanders is keeping things from her. She'll talk to us because he's trying to make her look incompetent, or at least less competent.'

'Typical male ego,” Harriet mused.

'She's going to need allies, and we could use her insider knowledge.'

'She could just be playing us.'

'I don't think so,” Beth said. “It's only a couple of blocks to the quilt store. You want to walk?'

Harriet looked up at the cloudy sky. “Sure, why not.'

Chapter 26

'Do you want to work on your baby quilt in the studio while I fix Iloai's?” Harriet asked when they had made their purchases and were returning to the car, bags in hand.

'I'd love to, but I left that stuff at my house. You'd have to drive me back by there first.'

'It's not like you live in Seattle,” Harriet said with a smile. “Let me throw my flannel in the washer at my house before we leave.” She'd purchased two and a half yards of a pale-gold flannel so she'd have plenty of extra fabric to account for the shrinkage flannel is so notorious for.

The town of Foggy Point strictly enforced its twenty-five-mile-an-hour speed limit everywhere within the city limits. Deer wandered freely in the residential neighborhoods, and the city council had enacted the low speed limit law not long after cars edged out horses and buggies as the favored mode of transportation. The law had withstood the passage of time without a single challenge. Even so, Harriet had Aunt Beth home and back and installed at a work table with her fabric, ruler and rotary cutter in less than an hour.

Harriet spread Iloai's quilt on her big cutting table. She carefully examined the embroidered areas at the top of the quilt and then the blank fabric at the bottom. She picked loose a couple of stitches along a seam that joined two imaged areas. As she'd suspected, pre-sewn blocks had been appliqued to a background fabric. She brought a bright, natural-light floor lamp to the table and shone it on the quilt. A magnifying glass was attached to the stem of the lamp by means of a flexible arm. She swung the lens over the quilt and took a close look at the background fabric.

'This is kind of interesting.'

'What do you see?'

'It looks like whoever made this turned a piece of fabric inside out to make the background.'

'Haven't you ever done that to get a color you wanted? I have.'

'I've done it when I was piecing something and needed a small amount of an odd color or in applique, but never for a whole top or backing. This looks almost textured.'

'Well, don't just pick at it, undo a whole section and look.'

'What if it falls apart?'

'You're fixing it anyway. I wouldn't take it apart up where the embroidery work is-do a bottom corner.'

Harriet turned the quilt around and then carefully, starting in the lower left corner, picked the stitches apart for six inches in each direction. When she had the top fabric loosened from the backing, she folded it back, revealing the reverse side of the fabric.

'Whoa!'

'What?” Aunt Beth got up from her work table and joined Harriet.

'Wow,” she said. “Mavis and Gerald had matching shirts made from fabric very similar to that.'

'Really?” Harriet looked at the navy blue-on-off-white Hawaiian print.

'Yeah. His sister went on a cruise of the South Pacific and brought them back shirts.'

'When was that?'

'Oh, gosh.” Beth looked at the ceiling while she thought. “It must have been in the late sixties. Maybe the early seventies.'

'This isn't real bark cloth.'