barbacoa. She'd come from her volunteer job reading stories to preschool children at the library, and was still wearing a floral shirtwaist dress in her signature sherbet tones. She knew the current crop of pre-school teachers dressed in jeans and sometimes even sweatpants, under the theory that a teacher needed to crawl around on the floor to relate to her students; but she had made it clear to Harriet on more than one occasion she didn't believe rolling around on the floor on the teacher's part was an integral part of learning.
Harriet filled a glass and, after a nod from Connie, one for her friend. She carried them to the table one at a time.
'Has anyone had any insights since we last talked?'
'Aren't you supposed to be the hot-stuff crime solver around here?” Lauren asked.
'Only if the rest of you won't step up to the plate.'
The room went silent.
'Look, right now, Mavis is suspect number one as far as the police are concerned. I'm not willing to sit back and watch her get arrested for something she didn't do.'
'Are you certain she
'Well, it's nice to know I have one person on my side,” Mavis said. No one had heard her arrive.
Jenny and Connie started talking at once, assuring her of their belief in her innocence.
Lauren cleared her throat. “I don't think you killed your husband,” she said in a subdued voice.'I stayed up until three o'clock this morning doing computer searches.” She pulled her shoulder-length hair into a ponytail and slid the Scrunchi that had been on her wrist onto her hair to hold it in place. “Carla's friend doesn't exist. There are plenty of Terry Jansens but no one that comes close to any of the information he's given us. And believe me, I dug.'
'Are you a hacker?” Connie asked.
'I have a master's degree in computer science, I don't hack.” She started to say something else but was interrupted by the arrival of Robin and DeAnn. Robin was wearing flared black Lycra pants and a pale blue baby tee that flashed her well muscled abs when she reach for an iced tea glass. DeAnn had on knee-length khaki shorts and a dark green T-shirt with the Foggy Point Video logo on the chest.
'So, what did we miss?” she asked.
'Lauren did some research about Terry Jansen, and she couldn't find him.” Connie said.
'Is that all?” DeAnn asked.
'No, that's not all,” Lauren said. “I was trying to finish reporting on my findings when you came in and interrupted.'
'Well, excuse me,” DeAnn said.
'What else did you find out?” Harriet asked before the conversation could deteriorate any further.
'I was about to say that when I couldn't develop anything about Terry, one of our potential suspects, I decided to see what I could find about Mavis's lack of alibi. I mean, if she hadn't been called away, she would have been in our booth at the critical moment. I started to wonder if she was being set up right from the get-go.'
'And?” Mavis said.
'I started looking at funerals that took place in Portland on the days you were gone. Fortunately, there weren't that many. Now, we're assuming people accurately report who the survivors are in the obituary, but if that's true, then the only way Pete's babysitter was at her grandfather's funeral would be if she's really a grandson, a great- granddaughter or under twelve years of age.'
'I knew there was something fishy about that girl,” Mavis said.
'Unfortunately, nothing I found tells us who did the set-up,” Lauren said.
'Thank you for looking,” Mavis said.
Aunt Beth arrived carrying a basket of chips and a dish of salsa Jorge had handed her as she passed the kitchen door.
'Jorge said this would help us think,” she said, and set the treats on the table. “Is anyone else coming?” she asked Mavis.
'Sarah couldn't get off work, and Carla was looking for a babysitter. If she's not here by now, she must not have been successful,” Mavis replied.
'So, what are we here for?” Robin asked.
Aunt Beth sat beside Mavis, and Harriet stood up and moved to the end of the table.
'I feel like we're getting close to figuring out what happened, but a few pieces of the puzzle are missing. First, I'd hoped we could list everything we know and see if anyone can see a pattern. Second, I'd like to make sure we get all the information we can at the funeral.'
Robin pulled out the yellow tablet she always kept in her shoulder bag. Once again, she listed Gerry's postcard, Mavis's sudden babysitting job in Portland, Gerald's reappearance, Gerald's second family, Terry's appearance in town, his night-time absences, his surveillance of Foggy Point Fire Protection, the night work and now Terry's disappearance. She put them in neat columns-Gerald/Gerard information in one, Terry information in another.
Harriet had her add the information about the layoffs at the time of Gerard's disappearance, the contradiction in Terry's report of his military service, and the magic bullet.
'Ideas anyone?” she asked.
'What they're doing at night at Foggy Point Fire Protection is why Gerald came back,” DeAnn suggested.
'But why did he leave in the first place?” Lauren asked.
'Wait.” Harriet reached into a canvas bag bearing the Quilt As Desired logo and pulled out Gerald's plaid flannel quilt and the black mystery material. “Exhibit one,” she said, and placed the two items on the table. “Mavis found this quilt in her sewing room just before the re-enactment. It appeared out of nowhere after twenty years. It was Gerald's.'
'So, obviously Gerald put it there,” Lauren said.
'But why?” Robin wondered.
'Let me see that,” DeAnn said. She bent the square, corner to corner, tugged at the edges and then smelled it. “Does anyone have a scissor?'
Several people rummaged in their purses. Connie won, triumphantly holding a pair of Gingher shears up.
'I was going to drop these off at Pins and Needles to go to the sharpener.'
'Is it okay if I cut the mystery square with them?” DeAnn asked.
Connie agreed, and DeAnn began a series of attempts to cut the fabric. She tried snipping with the scissor tips. She pulled the piece deep into the blades. She laid the fabric on the table and stabbed at it with the scissors held in her fist.
'Anyone else want to try?” she asked.
Lauren held her hands out for the piece. DeAnn passed it to her, and Lauren repeated the experiment.
'So, this is some sort of thin, protective material?” she said when she'd run out of methods to try.
'That's weird,” Harriet said. She glanced at Mavis and Aunt Beth.
'We all three saw Mavis's applique scissors poke a hole in that square,” Beth said.
'So, how did you do it?” Robin asked.
'I was holding it while Mavis held a match to it,” Harriet explained. “She got the flame close to my hand and I dropped the square, bumped my teacup and knocked the scissors off the table. The tea slopped onto the square and the scissors fell point down into and through the material. The square didn't protect my hand from the heat, by the way.'
'Hand me the tea,” Lauren said.
DeAnn was closest to the small table and passed it to her down the table, where Robin handed it to Lauren. Lauren laid down her napkin, put the black square on it and poured iced tea onto its surface. She took Connie's scissors into her fist, raised her arm and stabbed down into the material. The scissors slid sideways and skittered off the black square and into the scarred top of the picnic table.
She looked at Harriet. “So tell us again how you poked a hole in this thing.'
'Don't look at me. Feel the center, my hole is still there,” Harriet said.
Lauren tried her experiment again with similar results. “So, what gives?'
'It was hot tea,” said the disembodied voice of Jorge over the intercom speaker. Moments later he appeared in the back room with a steaming water kettle. “Try this.” He laid a thick cotton dishtowel on the table. Lauren reached up for the pot, and he pulled it away. “Hey, it was my idea. At least let me pour.'
