Quilter's Knot

'We can play it however you want to,” Weber answered, his voice no longer that of Officer Friendly. “I'd like you to come with me voluntarily to answer some questions. If you don't want to do that, I can arrest you and then you can answer our questions. It's your choice.'

'Whatever,” Lauren said. “Can I at least get my purse and coat?'

'Yeah, but don't try anything cute,” Weber said.

Lauren glared at him and went back upstairs, returning moments later wearing a denim jacket and with a leather messenger bag slung crosswise on her body.

'Would you mind opening your bag so I can have a quick look?'

'What's going on?” Harriet said as she came down the stairs and joined the group now standing by the front door.

'What's it look like? Officer Weber here is hauling me to jail.'

Weber looked at Harriet. “I'm taking Ms. Sawyer to the station to ask her a few questions, that's all.'

'Harriet, come with me,” Lauren said in a tone that was somewhere between a plea and a command.

Harriet looked an inquiry at the cop. He looked at Lauren.

'If it means you'll come quietly, sure,” he told her

'Take notes in class,” Harriet said to Carla, who had now joined the party. She grabbed her coat and wallet and was out the door before Carla could respond.

Weber opened the passenger doors of his Jeep Cherokee, and both women got in. Lauren had climbed into the back seat, so Harriet had no choice but to ride shotgun.

'Can you catch me up, here, Officer Weber? Why are you taking Lauren in for questioning? What is she supposed to have done?'

'She'll be informed when we get to the station.'

'Can you at least give us a ball park here? Did she run a red light? Forget to pay her taxes?'

Weber gave Harriet a “you've got to be kidding” look. “She's being questioned by the homicide detectives.'

Lauren was so quiet, Harriet had to turn in her seat to look and see if she was okay. Her face was as white as alabaster, and for once she was dead silent.

The threesome rode the rest of the way with no further conversation. Officer Weber pulled to a stop in front of a low brick building then ushered them into a beige-painted lobby trimmed with orange circles inside brown triangles that screamed 1970.

'You can wait here,” he said to Harriet, and indicated a row of orange vinyl chairs. Before she could take a full step toward them, Lauren snaked out a cold hand and gripped her arm like a vise.

'I'm not talking to anyone unless Harriet comes along.'

Ordinarily, Harriet would welcome the chance to avoid spending time with Lauren, but her curiosity overrode her aversion this time.

'Instead of me,” she said, and looked Officer Weber in the eye, “I think I should get Lauren's lawyer to meet us here.'

'That won't be necessary. Just let me ask the detective. Wait here.'

'Lauren, I wasn't kidding,” Harriet said as soon as Weber had gone through a door to the inner office. “You should call a lawyer right now. You don't have to answer any questions without a lawyer present.'

'I don't need a lawyer, Harriet.” The edge had returned to Lauren's voice. She was nothing if not adaptable. “I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't done anything anyone needs to ask questions about. I'm the victim here. That crone at the school stole my design, and then one of her cohorts stole my quilt. I'm sure that's what they want to ask about.'

'They don't use a homicide detective to ask questions about a stolen quilt. Besides, have you even reported it missing? Even if you have, the police don't spend time and money investigating petty theft. When my bike got stolen in Oakland, all I did was file a report.'

'He just said that to scare me, and I'll admit, for a minute there, it worked. Do you think they have a homicide department in this backwater town? They probably only have one detective.'

'You're wrong there, ma'am,” a well-built Hispanic man in a navy suit and red tie said. “Ms. Sawyer, I presume.” He held his hand out, but Lauren ignored it. “And you must be her friend Harriet.” Harriet took the proffered hand. “I'm Detective Ruiz.'

'Lauren and I are in the same quilt group back in Foggy Point. We're staying in the same lodging at the Folk Art School. She asked me to come with her.'

Lauren rolled her eyes skyward.

Harriet wasn't sure why the detective made her so nervous, besides the fact he was incredibly good-looking. She wasn't the one who was being questioned.

'Since this is an informal interview, I don't see any reason you can't join us. Why don't you two follow me back here.'

He led them down a short hallway into a windowless beige room with a linoleum-topped steel table that had two chairs on each side of it.

'Have a seat.” He pointed to the ones on the far side of the table. “Can I get you some coffee or water?'

They declined, so he sat down opposite them.

'If you don't mind, I'll record our discussion.” He pulled a small recorder from his pocket and clicked it on. Harriet was pretty sure it wouldn't have mattered if they had minded.

Ruiz spoke a well-practiced identification into the recorder, noting who was present and what the date and time were.

'Ms. Sawyer-may I call you Lauren?” She nodded once, and he continued. “How long have you known Selestina Bainbridge?'

'Uh…” She stopped and cleared her throat. “I've been taking classes at the center for about a year.'

Ruiz made a note on a pad he'd pulled from his pocket.

'Umm.” Lauren cleared her throat again. “Selestina became my advisor two months ago. Before that, I was taking prerequisites with other people. She gave the introductory talk before each class session, but I didn't speak to her then.'

You're talking too much, Harriet thought. She stared at Lauren, but the other woman had her eyes firmly locked on the tabletop as she babbled on.

'It seems you've been quite vocal about Selestina Bainbridge recently,” Detective Ruiz commented.

Lauren blushed. Harriet shifted in her seat and kicked her under the table, hoping Ruiz didn't notice. Lauren scowled at her but, for once, she kept her mouth shut. Her compliance could only be an indication of how worried she was.

Detective Ruiz slipped a pair of black plastic-rimmed half-glasses out of his pocket and perched them on his ample nose. He looked over the lenses at Lauren.

'Selestina was my advisor,” she went on, “so of course I talked about her to my classmates. We all compared notes about our teachers.'

'According to the other students, it was quite a bit more contentious than that.'

'We may have expressed our creative differences in front of other people, but that's all there was to it.” Lauren looked so sincere Harriet almost believed her.

'Tom Bainbridge has reported to us that someone has been in his mother's office without permission and that many of her files are missing. Can you tell me anything about that?'

Lauren shook her head.

'Perhaps you would like to explain, then, how your fingerprints came to be all over the office of Selestina Bainbridge.'

A young blond woman with a mouth full of metal braces opened the door and gestured to Detective Ruiz. He clicked the recorder off and pocketed it before following her out the door.

'Did you take the files from Selestina's office?” Harriet demanded as soon as the door was firmly shut.

'Technically, no.” Harriet glared at her. “I wasn't in her office when they were taken. That's the truth-I've only been in her office once, and that was when I first signed up for classes. You have to be interviewed by Selestina when you sign up for the two-year program. I had both hands firmly on my notebook the whole two hours while that