Make Quilts Not War - By Arlene Sachitano Page 0,59
sure? This information would have been useful last night when I came by your house. We might have been able to save this man.”
“That’s not fair.” I was on heavy-duty pain medication.”
“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Morse said. “I’m just frustrated, and I’m taking it out on you.” She looked down. “Someone killed Pam Gilbert, and until this morning, we were liking the ex-husband for it. Now we have a second victim shot in the same manner. There’s no obvious connection between Pam and Bobbie.”
“Except Jenny,” Harriet said. “They both knew Jenny.”
“They did. And then there’s the slashed tire incident. Other than it having happened to Jenny, it doesn’t fit with either murder.”
“Don’t forget this,” Harriet said and raised her bandaged arm.
“Your incident really doesn’t fit,” Morse said. “That poor woman is so out of touch, it’s hard to imagine her being part of any coordinated effort.”
“Doesn’t it seem like one coincidence too many?” Harriet asked.
“Normally, I’d say yes, but in this case, the woman is so sick I’m not seeing it.”
Wendy started moving around in her seat, and Carla opened the door then looked back at Harriet.
“I think we need to go home,” Harriet said to Morse. “I’m supposed to be resting.”
“Good idea. Go home and stay there until your arm is better.”
“I was only out today to have my bandage changed.”
“And yet, here you are,” Morse said with a shake of her head. “Convince your friend not to come back here. We told her, but that doesn’t seem to mean anything to you Loose Threads.”
Harriet started to protest, but Carla came to stand beside her.
“Let me help you get in the car,” she said and guided Harriet away from Detective Morse.
Chapter 22
Harriet woke from the nap Carla had insisted she take and found Carla gone and that Mavis had replaced her. Scooter was on his fleece mat beside the older woman; her own dog Curley was asleep in her lap.
“Oh, good, you’re awake. I thought I was going to have to wake you, and I was afraid I’d hurt your arm.”
“Are we late? Did I sleep too long?” Harriet asked as she rubbed her eyes with her good hand. She had agreed to go upstairs to her TV room and was propped up on the sofa with her arm resting on a pillow across her chest.
“No, we’ve still got a few hours before we have to go. You were moaning in your sleep. Does your arm hurt?”
“I was dreaming. There was a mountain lion on a narrow ledge looking over a sandstorm. And a scary-looking clown was climbing up the sheer cliff toward the cat.”
“That’s a weird one.” Mavis said.
“During the dream, I was terrified. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest.”
“Your dreams are supposed to mean something if you know how to interpret them.”
“Do you know what this one means?”
Mavis made a derisive noise.
“I don’t believe in that nonsense,” she said.
Harriet laughed.
“Why did you tell me they meant something, then?”
“You young people seem to believe.”
“I’m not sure I follow your logic, but maybe Lauren can look it up for me.”
“Are you hungry? I made a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches and heated some tomato soup.”
“That sounds good,” Harriet said. “I can come down to the kit-chen.”
“As long as you can get upstairs again—if you’re going to change into a sixties outfit, that is.”
“We have to wear costumes to the kitchen?” Harriet asked with a smile.
“To the concert, Miss Smarty Pants, but I suppose if it hurts your arm too much we could make excuses for you.”
“My arm hurts, but it’s a burn, not an amputation or paralysis or something serious.”
“I was just giving you an out,” Mavis said. “Excuse me for trying to take care of you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be critical.”
It was full dark when Harriet and Mavis met Carla and Lauren in front of the auditorium; this time of the year it usually happened around five-thirty and then only if it wasn’t cloudy.
“Where’s Jenny?” Harriet asked.
“Robin called and said Jenny didn’t want to come at the last minute, so she insisted she come to her house. Connie and Rod are babysitting Wendy so Carla can enjoy herself. Robin’s husband brought their passes to Connie’s so Carla could bring them to the concert in case anyone needed them.”
Carla reached into her jacket pocket and pulled the passes out.
“I was going to have a sitter come to Aiden’s, but with Michelle there, I didn’t want to risk it,” Carla said.