“As I said, I had to pull in a few favors, but even then, because of confidentiality laws, my source couldn’t directly confirm this information.”
“For crying out loud,” Lauren snapped, “where is she?”
“I believe she’s being held under a fifty-one-fifty order.” Several of them began to speak, but Robin held her hand for silence. “Washington State’s Involuntary Treatment Act allows designated reporters to invoke a seventy- two-hour hold at a mental health facility on behalf of anyone they believe is a danger to themselves or others. Depending on exactly where they picked her up, she’s either at the Snohomish County facility in Mukilteo or at Stevens Hospital in Edmonds.”
“You can’t be serious,” Harriet said.
“How can that be?” Aunt Beth said at the same time.
“Dios mio,” Connie said and covered her face with her hands.
“How do we get her out?” Carla asked.
“Unfortunately, until the seventy-two hours are up, we don’t,” Robin replied. “She can’t leave, and she isn’t entitled to legal representation until she’s been evaluated and then appears in court after the hold expires. And, by the way, the seventy-two-hour clock doesn’t tick on weekends or holidays, so I can’t even see her until next Monday.”
“What do you think happened?” Mavis asked. “Surely, they can’t have locked Marjory up because she said she’d kill her sister for reporting the car stolen.”
“My suspicion is that whoever reported the car stolen probably also painted Marjory as an unstable person, likely to harm herself or others. Unfortunately, it sounds like she played right into the hands of whoever did that.”
“What if the river rises while she’s gone?” Carla asked. Wendy squirmed in Carla’s lap and tried to get down. Her mother pulled a small wooden puzzle from her purse and dumped the pieces onto the table in front of her.
“Water will fill the basement and part of the first floor at Pins and Needles,” Lauren said.
“And unless we move Marjory’s fabric, she’ll lose it all,” Mavis added.
“How are we supposed to do that with her locked in the loony bin?” Lauren asked.
“Don’t you think Marjory would want us to break a window or something to get in if it meant we could save her inventory?” Connie pointed out.
“Not when we have a key,” Aunt Beth announced.
“We have a key?” Harriet asked.
“Carla?” Aunt Beth said.
Carla reached into her bag and fished around, bringing out a bright-pink rubber keychain. She held it up for everyone to see. She’d worked part-time at Pins and Needles after being laid off from her job at the local vitamin factory the previous spring. Aiden had hired her as his full-time housekeeper when he inherited his mother’s large Victorian home, but they’d both agreed she could still work for Marjory a few hours a week while Wendy went to a toddler program at the Methodist church, so Marjory wouldn’t be left in the lurch.
“She gave it to me to use in case of emergency.” Carla said.
“I think flooding qualifies as an emergency.” Lauren took a drink of her latte. “And let’s not wait until the water is at the doorstep. It’s going to take a while to move that much fabric if we have to go up and down that attic ladder of hers.”
“Does anyone know how close to flood stage the river is?” Mavis asked.
Carla pulled a smartphone from her purse and, with a glance at Lauren, tapped on its face. Lauren looked on like a proud parent. She’d undoubtedly had something to do with Carla’s newfound technical prowess, Harriet thought.
“Two more feet to reach flood stage,” Carla reported, her cheeks turning pink.
“It’s another three feet or so to street level,” Harriet said. “But once it goes over the street it’s right into the basement.”
“I didn’t know Marjory had a basement,” Connie said.
“She doesn’t keep anything of consequence down there,” Mavis said. “The people she bought it from warned her about the flood potential. She just stores spare shelving and tables.”
“I’m with Lauren,” Harriet said. “If we’re going to have to do a major move, I think we should start sooner rather than later. The rain isn’t supposed to let up, and if the windstorm knocks any big trees over the roads or even in the river near here, the shop could be in trouble without much warning.”
Ronald had gone for a refill and stopped by the Threads’ table on his way back to his chair.
“I couldn’t help but overhear your concern about the quilt store flooding. I’d like to offer my services to help move inventory,” he said. “I’m sure Duane and Joyce would be happy to help also. It’s not like we have homes or families to take care of.” His face reddened as he said the last part. “It might help us feel more normal.”
“Thank you,” Aunt Beth said. “We’ll let you know the plan before we all leave.”
He went back to his companions and recounted his offer. Harriet saw Joyce nodding thoughtfully as he spoke.
“I guess that’s it, then,” Aunt Beth said. “When do you all want to start?”
“I’d just as soon get it over with, before the wind picks up,” Harriet said.
Connie and Mavis agreed.
“I’ll need to check with Aiden,” Carla said. “I need to see if he wants me to do anything for his sister now that she’s stuck here.”
“Michelle is still here?” Harriet felt the muscle in her jaw tighten and willed it to relax.
“She was going to leave yesterday,” Carla explained. “But they talked so late last night, she decided to stay over. She was still in bed when Wendy and I left for here.”
“Hey, is this a party?” Tom Bainbridge asked. Rainwater dripped from his hair. Harriet had been so focused on Carla’s news she hadn’t noticed him arrive.
“You’re stuck here, too?” Lauren asked.
“I think that’s obvious, don’t you?” he shot back. “I ran into one of my mom’s old friends yesterday and stayed for dinner with her and her husband. I let them convince me it was too late to drive home in all this rain.” He gestured toward the chaos outside the window. “So, here I am.”
“Want to help move fabric to the attic of the quilt store?” Harriet asked.
“Why not? It’s not like I’ve got anything else to do.”
Chapter 7
“Did anyone talk to Sarah today?” Connie asked as the group returned their used coffee mugs to the bar.
“I called to tell her about coffee this morning, but she said she’s at her boyfriend’s house and he didn’t want her to leave his cat alone.” Mavis shook her head in disbelief. “Apparently, he thinks the cat is having emotional problems due to his absence.”
“Oh, for crying out loud,” Lauren said. “I think we need to go check on her. I want to see with my own eyes that cat is the only reason she’s not coming to quilting anymore.”
“Would anyone care to give us a ride?” Ronald asked hopefully.
“You’re going to have to get used to taking the bus,” Joyce scolded him. “That’s why the church gave us these passes.”
“Of course you can ride with us,” Aunt Beth said. “I’ve got room for two people if one doesn’t mind crawling into the back seat of my Beetle.”
“I’ve got room,” Harriet said, and with the transportation settled, the group drove to Pins and Needles.
“How about Lauren and I go up to the attic and see what’s already up there,” Harriet suggested. “Duane and Rodney could go to the basement and see what’s down there. If there are folding tables, they might be useful for stacking bolts of fabric, and at the very least, we could bring them up out of the flood zone.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Mavis said. “Come on, gentlemen, I’ll show you where the basement door is.”
“Where
