Make Quilts Not War - By Arlene Sachitano Page 0,58
“I’ll call the watchers and let them know you’re coming.”
“Thanks for everything,” Harriet said and pressed the off-button. “We need to go to Jenny’s.” She told her what Lauren had said.
“Wouldn’t Jenny know her brother was at her house last night when she and Connie went there?” Carla asked.
“That would be a reasonable assumption, but I’m pretty sure Jenny isn’t telling the truth about what’s going on, so she might not have told Robin that she already knew where he was, even though they were looking for him.”
“I’m not sure if I hope he’s there or not,” Carla said.
“Yeah, I know, I hate to think Jenny is lying to all of us to this degree.”
Jenny lived in an older subdivision of well-tended homes and tidy gardens. Harriet noticed a gray Prius halfway down the block and assumed it was Lauren’s guys.
“Let me go to the door,” Carla said. “You can stay with Wendy. If he answers, you can take over. If he doesn’t, then we won’t have jostled your arm around for nothing.”
Harriet wanted to protest, but her arm was starting to hurt, and she couldn’t think of a good reason not to let Carla go.
Carla stood on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street before walking up to Jenny’s door. Harriet couldn’t see the doorbell from her position, but she saw Carla reach out toward the door, pause then drop her arm, waiting a few beats before repeating the process. There was no response. Carla came back to the car and got in.
“I’m going to go around back,” Harriet said. “Jenny has those French doors to her patio, and she usually leaves the blinds open. I just want to be sure Bobby isn’t inside sipping coffee and waiting for us to leave.”
Carla’s shoulders slumped.
“I’ll go,” she said. “For all the same reasons it wasn’t a good idea for you to go to the front door.”
“You’re starting to sound a little bit like Lauren,” Harriet said with a smile.
Carla’s face turned pink.
“That doesn’t mean I’m wrong, though,” she said quietly.
“Okay, fine,” Harriet said. “Look in the French doors, and then see if you can look in the two sets of bedroom windows you can reach from the patio. If we’re lucky, he’s in one of them and left the curtains and blinds open.”
Carla walked back up Jenny’s path then turned left, cutting across the yard and disappearing around the side of the house. She returned a few minutes later, almost running and looking back over her shoulder. She slid into the driver’s seat and pulled her phone from her purse.
“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked, but Carla didn’t answer. She pressed the face of her phone three times.
“I just found a dead body,” she said.
They stayed in the car, Wendy asleep in her car-seat, in front of Jenny’s house until the police arrived. A knock on the driver’s-side window startled them.
“I can’t even say it again,” Jane Morse said to Harriet when Carla rolled down the window. “Has there been a crime in this town since you’ve been back that you haven’t been involved in?”
Harriet got out of the car. She shrugged then winced in pain when it moved her burned arm too much.
“We were helping Jenny look for her brother. She was going to try to find him, but you-all were talking to her, so Carla and I thought we’d help by checking to see if he was here.”
“She came to the station thirty minutes ago. How is it she wouldn’t know her brother is staying at her house?” Morse asked.
“Jenny isn’t staying at her house right now,” Carla offered.
“Her husband is out of town,” Harriet added. “We suggested she not stay home alone, since the trouble at the festival seems to be targeted on her.”
“That’s the first sensible thing I’ve heard today,” Morse admonished. “If she’d been home, she might be lying there beside her brother with a bullet in her head.”
“Jenny was estranged from her brother,” Harriet said. “He came to me at the festival and said he was trying to warn her about something, but she wouldn’t talk to him. He asked me to help him convince her to listen. That’s what I was doing when that woman threw acid on me. And before you ask, no, he didn’t tell me what kind of trouble he was going to warn her about.”
Morse made a note in her notepad.
“Is there anything else you’ve failed to tell me about this whole mess?”