“It turns out those ‘watch for slides’ signs have finally born fruit. The road out of Foggy Point is blocked in that wooded stretch before you reach the highway.”
“How bad is it?”
“The hillside slid all the way from the top and went across the road and into the river. It only partially blocked the Muckleshoot, but it isn’t good.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“One truck was hit, but they were mostly past so it just knocked them around.”
“Where are we meeting?”
“The Steaming Cup.”
“I can be there in about fifteen minutes,” Harriet said; Mavis told her that would be perfect.
Harriet wore a long-sleeved T-shirt, her gray hoodie and jeans under her hip-length Gore-Tex jacket, and she was still cold when she went outside. She’d slipped on the ankle-high rubber-coated boots her aunt had suggested when Harriet was catalog-shopping for winter wear-as usual, Beth had been right. The wind and rain combined with dropping temperatures was brutal, but at least her feet were warm and dry.
The Loose Threads who were still in town were already sitting around a big table in the coffee shop when she arrived. Carla’s toddler Wendy sat in Mavis’s lap drinking chocolate milk from a lidded cup with a straw.
“Does everyone still have power?” Robin asked. One-by-one the women nodded assent. “Well, at least that’s something.”
“Go get your drink,” Aunt Beth instructed Harriet. “We’ve got things to talk about.”
Like an obedient child, she did as instructed, returning a few minutes later with a large hot chocolate and a warm cinnamon roll.
“So, what do we have to talk about, other than the weather?” she asked when she sat down.
“Harriet and I finished the last two quilts in progress last night,” Lauren volunteered.
“There’s still a lot of fabric if anyone wants to start more,” Harriet added.
“Marjory’s in trouble,” Aunt Beth said, abruptly changing the subject. “I called her this morning on her cell phone. She’d left town early to drive her mother’s car to Seattle. Got out just in time before the slide, too.”
“What’s the problem?” Connie asked. “Does she need us to take care of the store?”
“I wish it were that simple,” Beth said. “It’s much worse, I’m afraid. I was talking to her, and then I heard a siren in the background. She said she had to go, that the police were pulling her over.”
“Why?” Connie asked.
“How should she know?” Lauren answered. “Beth just said she hung up.”
“I didn’t say she hung up,” Beth corrected. “I said she told me she had to go. She was so rattled she just dropped the phone on the car seat. I couldn’t hear clearly, but I got most of it. The policeman said her mother’s car had been reported stolen.”
“
“He said the car had been reported stolen, and Marjory was to keep her hands where he could see them and get out of the car.” Beth paused for effect. “Marjory apparently did so, but she was hollering up a storm. She said she was going to kill Pat.”
“Who is Pat?” Carla asked in a quiet voice.
“Pat is Marjory’s sister,” Mavis said. “She’s been giving Marjory a hard time about their parents’ estate. She’s supposed to be coming here uninvited to visit Marjory and talk about it.”
“So what happened?” Harriet asked.
“I’m not positive, but I think they arrested her. At the very least, it sounded like they took her into custody.”
“Did you call the police?” Robin asked.
“That’s why I called all of you,” Beth said. “I called Foggy Point Police, and they didn’t know anything. I tried Seattle, but all I got was the run-around. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t that far, anyway. I don’t know what jurisdiction she’s in, so I don’t know who to call.”
“Let me see what I can do,” Robin said and pulled her cell phone from her purse before walking away from the table.
“That’s really bizarre,” Connie said. “What could they possibly arrest Marjory for? It’s her parents’ car…and isn’t she the executor of their estate?”
“If it was really reported stolen, don’t you think it was her sister?” Harriet asked. “Who else would be in a position to know Marjory would be driving a car that wasn’t hers on this particular day?”
“You mean besides us?” Lauren asked.
“None of us reported that car stolen, and you know that,” Mavis said.
“Hey, I was just answering the question.” Lauren slouched down in her chair and gripped her mug of coffee in two hands.
Robin paced in the entrance area, her cell phone to her ear. She stopped and opened the door when she reached it, stepping aside to let a small group of people enter. Ronald, Joyce and Duane from the homeless camp stepped to the counter and ordered coffee drinks before crossing the room to the Loose Threads’ table.
“Thank you so much for the flannel quilts,” Joyce said.
“I slept a lot warmer last night,” Duane added. “And I’m pretty sure Brandy did, too.”
“We’re happy to help out.” Aunt Beth said with a smile.
Harriet couldn’t help but stare when the trio’s drinks were called and Duane retrieved them, bringing back expensive latte and mocha concoctions.
Ronald looked sheepish.
“I know this looks crazy,” he said. “But my daughter gave me a Latte Lovers gift card here for my birthday. She had no idea I was losing the house and could have used a night at a hotel, or cold hard cash, much more than frivolous coffee drinks.”
“The milk part is nutritious, and they’re warming,” Joyce said. “And Ronald was generous enough to share with us.”
“Which we greatly appreciate,” Duane added.
“How did you get here?” Lauren asked. “The park is a long way from here.”
Mavis glared at her.
“What my friend is trying to ask is if you’d like her to give you a ride home,” she said.
Lauren’s eyes got big as she stared at Mavis.
“That would be nice,” Joyce said. “We got a ride in from a young couple in a semi. They were on their way to the hardware store to buy parts to fix their heater. They said they’d check to see if we needed a ride back before they left town.”
“I hope they were able to fix their heater,” Harriet said. “With the slide, they’re likely to be stuck here a few days, at least.”
“What slide?” Ronald asked.
The Loose Threads told them about the slide that had closed the road in and out of Foggy Point.
“That’s terrible,” Duane said.
Joyce smiled.
“It’s not like we were going to be leaving town anytime soon,” she said. “I wonder if the young people got out. The group that was at the church when you were delivering the quilts to us was planning on heading south for the rest of the winter.”
Robin returned. The group looked at her expectantly, but she said nothing.
“Come on, fellas,” Joyce said. “Let’s take advantage of those soft chairs over there.” She led the men to a grouping of upholstered chairs on the far side of the room. Aunt Beth smiled thanks at her; then, everyone turned to Robin.
“Well?” Beth encouraged her.
Robin sat down and picked up her cup.
“I called in a few favors and represented myself as Marjory’s counsel, which she may or may not back up, but I did find her.”
“Where is she?” Beth asked.
