Carla squinted and shaded her eyes. “I think I see it.” She pointed across the pond and to the left. “See, kind of behind that big spruce tree. It's really dark, but you can see the sun reflecting off the window.'
Harriet looked, and could just make out the dark shape of the studio. “Come on,” she said and led the way around the water. A flock of mallards skittered away from them and back toward the safety of the pond's center.
'Boy, if Miz Bainbridge was wanting her privacy, she picked a good spot.” Carla said.
'I wonder if this was one of the original buildings on this property. Look at how thick the moss is on the roof.'
Roof moss in the Pacific Northwest wasn't the pretty lace organism that adorned the graceful old oak trees in the south. The algae and moss that grew on northern roofs appeared in thick, yellowish-green lumps that thrived in the dark and damp weather. It shortened the life of roofs covered in asphalt shingles just as easily as it did wood shakes. In urban areas, you saw a variety of remedies used, from zinc or copper strips to oxygen bleach. In the country, you were more likely to see sagging roofs straining under the load of many years’ accumulation.
Selestina's studio was in the latter category. The roof sagged, and the cedar siding was bleached white where the sun reached it and coated in green and black algae where it didn't. The wooden door had three small glass windows at its top. The center pane had a long diagonal crack.
'Now,” Harriet said when they had made their way to the front of the building. “I wonder how we're going to get inside.'
While she was musing out loud, Carla walked up the rotting wooden steps, grasped the rusty tin doorknob and turned.
'It's open,” she called back over her shoulder as she went through the doorway.
'Wait,” Harriet called out, but it was too late. Carla was inside, and the door had shut behind her.
Harriet took the steps in two leaps and pulled the door open. She promptly ran into Carla, who was standing just inside, rooted to the spot.
'Wow,” said Harriet as she looked around.
They were standing in an entryway facing an open door that led to a large room with a high ceiling. Harriet stepped past Carla to the center of the workspace. A large cutting table was to the left of the door; its surface was made of green self-healing cutting mat material; the mat compound separated when the blade cut into it then closed back up when the blade was past. Selestina could use her rotary cutter-a round, razor-sharp blade in an ergonomic plastic handle that had replaced scissors as the favored cutting tool among quilters-without fear of scarring the table surface. The table looked like it was large enough to lay a double bed-sized quilt on with room to spare.
At one end of the table and a few feet back was a shoulder-high horizontal oak rack that held quilting rulers of all sizes and several shapes. A quilter's ruler is marked in eighth-inch increments both horizontally and vertically. In addition, they often have forty-five-degree and sixty-degree angles marked on their surface. There are several sizes almost every quilter has-six inch by eighteen or twenty-four inch is common. Most people also have a six- or eight- inch square. Beyond that, ruler collections were dictated by the types of quilting the individual did. People who tended toward small, intricately pieced projects usually had smaller rulers; bigger pieced projects dictated larger rulers. Selestina appeared to have one of every size and type ever made.
The long wall behind the table had two large design walls mounted on it. Carla walked around the table and stood in front of the nearest one. A series of fabric squares in varying shades of brown and green were stuck to its surface at eye level.
'These look like the background of Lauren's quilt,” she said.
Harriet came around the opposite end of the table to stand beside her.
'Maybe.” She pulled one of the squares from the tacky surface.
Traditionally, design walls are a large piece of flannel attached to an empty wall somewhere near a quilter's sewing machine. The one hundred-percent cotton fabric that is used in quilt-making sticks to flannel once the cotton has been cut into pieces, enabling a person to lay out and evaluate segments of their quilt before they stitch the parts together. Selestina had a high-tech version of flannel. Hers had been treated with a sticky material that gripped the cotton more firmly, allowing for more precise layouts.
Harriet felt the fabric then held it up to her nose.
'What are you doing?” Carla asked.
'I was hoping to tell if this was hand-dyed fabric. Lauren dyed her own fabric. This smells faintly of vinegar. Acetic acid is one of the chemicals people use to set dye. There are commercial products that will do the trick, but some people still use vinegar.'
Carla walked along the wall past the cutting table area to another table. This one was smaller and lower, with a wheeled armless chair pushed up to it. A light box was built into its surface. She felt along the edge of the table until her finger hit the switch. She flicked it on.
'Wow,” she said.
A page that looked like it had been torn from a spiral sketchbook was taped to the center of the lighted portion of the table surface. A larger sheet of tracing paper was taped over the first sheet. It appeared that someone was in the process of copying the image from the sketchbook page to the tracing paper.
'What have you got?'
'Someone is copying a really cool picture from a sketchbook.'
'Is it Lauren's?'
Carla bent closer to the page. “It's not the one she's in a flap about. There's some writing at the bottom of the page, but the tape is covering up part of it. I can't tell if it's a name or not.'
Harriet crossed to the opposite side of the room. Four sewing machines sat on tables in a row. Selestina had one each of the popular brands, each a high end model for the maker.
'Business must have been good,” she said, running her hand across the top of the nearest machine. She opened the partially completed quilt that was folded neatly at its side. “Whoa, look at this.” She held it up. “Look familiar?'
'Oh, my gosh, isn't that the quilt that was hanging to the left of the entry door in the exhibition hall? In the group before Lauren's? Or at least most of it?'
'Looks like it's well on its way to being an exact copy.” Harriet folded the quilt and put it back on the machine table.
A tall shelving unit filled with folded fabric that was organized by color separated the sewing machine area from what appeared to be a sitting area. Two matching overstuffed chairs with ottomans sat on either side of a multi- headed floor lamp. A woven-wood basket was on the floor beside one of the chairs. A piece of folded fabric lay on top of the basket.
'This just keeps getting better.” She unfolded the fabric and held it up.
'Geez,” Carla said as she recognized the quilt top. “They copied the applique class, too?'
'So it would seem.'
Harriet moved to the final space in the room. Two computers sat on desks, side by side. One had an in-basket next to it on the desktop and a lateral file cabinet standing beside it. The other had an oversized monitor and a For Dummies book on a popular quilt design software program lying open beside the keyboard. Clever, thought Harriet. They were using design software to analyze other people's original work.
They still didn't know why the copies were being made, but she and Carla were getting a clear idea of how they were doing it.
'Let's see where the back door leads,” she called to Carla.
Two doors were set in the back wall. Harriet turned the knob on the first and pushed, exposing a neat white- tiled bathroom. She leaned her head in and looked around.
'Nothing in here,” she said.
Carla turned the knob and opened the remaining door, exposing a large kitchen. A Formica-topped fifties-style table with red vinyl-seated chrome chairs sat in the center of the room. One wall contained typical appliances, including a full-size stove, refrigerator, microwave and an industrial-sized dishwasher. The opposite side of the room had two double utility sinks with wood-topped counter space on either side of the sinks. A bundle of dried flowers and branches lay on the counter to the left. A pair of garden shears was on the counter beside the flowers; a pair of worn leather garden gloves had been abandoned next to them.
