Quilter's Knot

'Where's the phone?” Harriet asked. “We need to call for the ambulance.'

'I had it disconnected after the funeral,” Patience said in a conversational tone. “Mother had a lot of hospital bills, so there wasn't any money left for extras.” She turned around. “And it won't be necessary, anyway,” she said.

It took a moment for Harriet to register the shotgun.

'You?” Harriet asked. “You were the one who tied us up in the attic?'

Patience made a slight bow.

'Why?'

'Because you couldn't keep your nose out of other people's business.'

'Did you seriously think you could kidnap Lauren and hold her hostage, and that no one would come looking for her?'

'And that one…” Patience waved the barrels of her gun toward Lauren and went on speaking as if Harriet hadn't said anything. “She couldn't keep her mouth shut. She was constantly blabbing about her amazing design and how someone had copied it. Hah! If she only knew. I only got half as much for her design as I did for Jan Hayes's tone-on-tone kaleidoscope.'

'Why did you need to take anyone's design? You're an accomplished artist. Couldn't you just sell your own work?'

'Couldn't you just sell your own work,” she repeated in a nasal sing-song voice. “Do you really think I'm so stupid I didn't think of that? No one wants my traditional calico pieced quilts. They want modern art quilts. But more important, to continue to teach you have to have fresh work.'

'But surely that doesn't apply to you. You're a partner in the business. Aren't you?'

'I am. Or I would be if your friend here hadn't stolen Selestina's new will.'

'My God.” Harriet sank down onto the sofa beside Lauren as the enormity of what Patience was saying sank in. “You killed Selestina? She was your friend.'

'Exactly-she was my friend. And as her friend, I've spared her the indignity she would have most certainly suffered.'

'So, she did have dementia,” Harriet said with satisfaction.

'Yes, she did. My old friend was gone. Oh, she could still fool the students, but my old friend was gone.'

'If you were so close, why hadn't she made you a partner before this?'

'She was my friend, but to her I was always an employee. One she shared her hopes and dreams with, one she shared a good bottle of wine with over an expensive dinner-Dutch treat, of course; but at the end of the day, I was an employee.'

'If she rewrote her will making you a partner, why did you need to kill her? Tom was going to make a foster care home in the meadow.'

'Don't be so dense, Harriet,” Lauren mumbled from the sofa without opening her eyes. “Selestina wasn't ever going to make Patience a partner. Les overheard them talking. Patience tried to talk her into it, but Selestina wasn't the kind of person who would acknowledge the work of others. She may have had dementia, but it hadn't made her any nicer. She laughed at Patience.'

'That's not true!” Patience cried.

'If there was a new will, it was forged. Or maybe she tricked Selestina into signing it. But Les says the old bat would have never shared the school with anyone.'

'Why didn't you just go somewhere else?” Harriet asked. She slowly eased a second pillow from the chair and held it as if she were going to use it to adjust Lauren's position.

'Are you really that naive?” Patience snapped. “No one wants my work. The schools don't want quilting teachers; they want art teachers who quilt. Besides, I spent the best years of my life building up this school. You met Selestina. Do you think people would have kept coming back if I hadn't been smoothing ruffled feathers and quietly giving students discount coupons if they'd come back again.

'And she was no businesswoman. I redid the catalog every year after she'd okayed it for print. All those years, and once she thought it had gone to print, she never even checked it again.'

She was consumed by her righteous anger. Harriet kept her eyes on her but inched slowly to the end of the couch. She just needed Patience to talk for another minute and she'd be clear of the coffee table.

'She was nothing without me,” Patience continued, pacing in a small rectangle along the corridor between the dining room and the front door. The shotgun was held loosely in her arms. “It was me who recruited the top teachers, me who called quilt guilds across the country.'

It was now or never. When Patience once again turned toward the dining room, Harriet threw the pillow toward the table. As she'd hoped, Patience raised the gun and shot at it. As she did, Harriet dove forward, rolling into her shins. The gun went flying, and Patience hit the floor hard on her back.

Harriet planted a knee in her chest and pressed down, making sure she couldn't catch the breath that had been knocked out of her.

'Here,” Lauren said, startling her. She held a thin cord in her hand. Harriet took it and tied Patience's hands behind her.

Lauren sank to the floor. Harriet wouldn't have believed she could have gotten off the couch. She had not only done so but had pulled the lace from her tennis shoe.

'You'll not get away with this,” Patience growled. “It will be my word against yours. I'll tell them you came in here and attacked me when I accused you of copying my work.'

Harriet looked around the room. Heavy velvet drapes from an earlier era were held back from the front window by a decorative gold tieback cord. She left Patience for a moment and retrieved a cord, letting the drape fall over the window. When she had secured the woman hand and foot, she patted her down, retrieving the car keys.

'Where are you going?” Lauren cried when she saw Harriet move toward the front door.

Harriet paused.

'I was calling Aiden when Patience put you in the car. I put my phone down to help and never picked it up again. Hopefully, it's still there.'

She quickly found her phone and returned to the house. She called Aiden but was immediately transferred to his voicemail, which probably meant he had no reception. She tried the Tree House number but got no answer there, either.

'You'll never get away with this,” Patience said.

'Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.” Harriet laughed. She dialed nine-one-one. She asked the operator to please notify Detective Ruiz and send an ambulance for Lauren.

Chapter Thirty

Mavis and the rest of the Loose Threads were gathered in the great room of the Tree House when Officer Weber drove Harriet back to the school. He insisted on walking her to the door over her objections, but in reality, she leaned on him more than a little as they walked the path from the parking lot to the porch.

Detective Ruiz had asked her to be available for questioning then after taking a good look at her said, he could come by the Tree House after he was done processing Patience.

'Oh, honey,” Mavis said, “come in and tell us what happened.'

'Dios mio,” Connie said. “Sit down.” She motioned to Sarah to move over and make a place for Harriet on the sofa. “Go get a wet wash cloth,” she ordered.

Sarah rolled her eyes and sighed but didn't get up. Carla jumped up from her perch on the stone hearth.

'I'll get it.'

Connie glared at Sarah and went back to adjusting the pillows behind Harriet and putting her feet up on the coffee table.

'Oh, your poor ankles,” she said as Harriet's pant leg rode up and everyone could see the angry gash the bindings had made.

Carla returned with the washcloth, and Connie swabbed Harriet's face and hands. Mavis handed her a mug of peppermint tea with honey in it.