Whatever Sarah was about to reply was cut off by Helen. She opened a door labeled Exam Two and called Rachel's name. Sarah went into the room with her cat bag and shut the door.
Helen gave Harriet a copy of Cat Fancier magazine and led her back to the breakroom.
"That one's a piece of work,” she said and shook her head as she left for the front desk.
Aiden found Harriet fifteen minutes later.
"Let's get out of here before she comes up with something else."
"What was wrong with her cat?"
"As near as I can tell, the only thing wrong with that cat is her owner."
Harriet smiled. “So, what did you tell Sarah?"
"Oh, I told her to change to dust-free cat litter and to keep a journal of when her cat sneezes. She's to record all the environmental conditions every time Rachel makes a nasal noise. That ought to keep her busy for a while."
"You're bad."
They drove to Mama T's, picked up the pizza and returned to the house, limiting their conversation to a generic discussion of how much Foggy Point had changed since they'd each last lived there, avoiding any mention of Avanell or her finances.
The quilters worked another three hours after their pizza feast. They filled bags with the sorted fabric and agreed there was at least another days'-worth of work left.
"Can everyone come back tomorrow?” Mavis asked.
Connie said she could come after church. Harriet, Jenny, Mavis and DeAnn agreed to meet at nine. Robin's mother-in-law was coming for the day so she had to pass, but she said she'd track down Lauren and find out why she was a no-show. If possible, she'd line her up for the next day.
Mavis and Harriet got into the Town Car and headed down the hill.
"We made a fair amount of progress today,” Mavis said.
"Yeah, it makes me want to go home and do some stash-thinning."
"I know what you mean, except I'm too tired to do anything but put my feet up and veg in front of the tube."
"I hear you. Those stairs to the third floor were killer."
"Not so killer you didn't go up there with Aiden more than once."
Harriet's face turned pink. “Purely a coincidence."
"I saw the way he looks at you with those big blue eyes of his. He's definitely smitten."
"He's a child. Well, practically."
"He's not that young. And you're not that old. And don't you try and tell me you haven't given it a thought."
She felt her face transition from pink to flaming red. “So I can appreciate a good-looking guy. A too-young good-looking guy. I'm sure he sees me as a big sister."
"Listen, missy, I raised five sons, and believe me-Aiden does not look at you like he does his sister."
"Well, certainly not how he looks at his sister right now,” Harriet conceded. “I overheard them arguing when we were leaving, and she was pretty harsh."
"They usually get along well enough. Avanell's death has got them both out of kilter.” She shook her head. “I can't say as I blame them for acting out a little. It must be an awful thing to have your momma murdered."
"Did Avanell ever talk about her business?"
"Oh, she'd say something once in a while. If a new product made a big splash or sometimes if her employees were fighting she might ask the group their opinion when we sat around stitching."
"Had she said anything lately?"
"No, she hadn't.” Mavis paused. “Something's been wrong for a while, though."
"In what way?” Harriet asked.
"Nothing you could really put your finger on. Just small stuff. She wasn't buying fabric. I know-with a stash like we just saw she could have gone years without buying fabric, but until lately, she didn't. She usually bought pretty regular. And her car. She always said her car was her one vanity item. She bought a new Mercedes sedan every year. Except this year. This is the first year she skipped since George died."
"Do you know why?"
"I assumed she must be having money problems, but she never did say."
Harriet knew all about families who kept secrets.
Chapter Eighteen
Fred was pacing in the kitchen when Harriet entered from the studio.
"Did you eat all the food I left in your dish already?” She picked up his empty dish and poured a carefully measured half-cup of kibble into it. She glanced at the clock on the stove-it was ten after five. Pins and Needles stayed open until six on Saturday night.
She grabbed her purse from the chair by the door; the studio was in good enough shape she could afford to skip a night. A hand-piecing project would be just what the doctor ordered, and she'd seen a new cat print series that would make a nice kitty quilt for Fred. He had adopted a green wool-upholstered chair in her bedroom and was leaving a covering of cat fur in his wake. If they were going to be here for a while, it would need some protection. There was a movie rental store at the bottom of the hill, too; her Saturday night was shaping up nicely.
"I'll be back in a few,” she yelled to Fred, who didn't look up from his dish.
She went out into the damp early-evening air, got into her car and drove into downtown Foggy Point.
The bell on the door to Pins and Needles jingled as she crossed the threshold.
"Be right with you,” Marjory called from behind a row of fabric bolts. “Oh, hi, Harriet,” she said as Harriet rounded the end of the display.
Carla Salter stood beside Marjory, studying her tattered canvas shoes.
"Meet my newest employee, Carla Salter. She's going to start working for me a few hours on the weekends."
"We met the other night,” Harriet said. “How are you doing, Carla?"
Carla mumbled a reply, but Harriet couldn't make out what she'd said.
"I've got the studio pretty much back together, so I thought I'd take a night off and start a hand-piecing project. I saw some cat fabric you were unpacking when I was here on Tuesday. I thought I might make a small quilt for my cat Fred."
"Carla can show you where we put that,” Marjory said. “You know which fabric she's talking about?"
"The Makower UK cats?"
"Yes,” Harriet said.
"Over here."
Carla led her two rows over to a section that had several lines of stylized animal fabrics.
"Thanks.” Harriet pulled several bolts off the shelf.
Carla had moved back a few steps but was still in the aisle.
"What do you think of these?” Harriet asked her.
"I like the blue-and-brown one,” she said, so quietly Harriet almost didn't hear her.
"I do, too. What do you think about the orange for accent fabric? Is it too much?"
"Depends on your cat. If it's got a strong personality it probably would like the orange. If it's the kind that sleeps all day the off-white would probably be better.” She spoke a little louder this time.
"Fred is definitely a strong personality, so orange it is."
"Do you want me to take these to the counter for you?"
"Yes, thanks. I'm going to look around a little more."
Carla's eyes widened and her cheeks turned red.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to rush you."
"No, it's fine. You are doing fine. By the way, did you ever find your friend the other night?” Harriet asked, trying to distract her from her distress. Doing a customer service job had to be a big stretch for her.
Carla twisted her hands in the hem of her faded blue T-shirt.
"She never showed,” she said then looked up. “I'm getting really worried. I got Jason from work to drive me by her place on Friday, but it doesn't look like she's been there."
"Does she have family she might be staying with?"
"She doesn't talk to her family.” Carla paused. “She's had problems they can't understand."
Or maybe they understand all too well, Harriet thought. “What kind of problems?"
Carla was silent, and Harriet was afraid she'd overstepped the boundary of their tenuous relationship. She turned back to the fabric bolts.
"She has problems in her head,” Carla finally said in a soft voice. “That's why I'm so worried about her. She needs to take her medicine. As long as she does it real regular she's fine. Miz Avanell helped her with her medicine. She just got some last week, but I don't think she took it with her when they fired her. It was in her toolbox, and Tony didn't let her take her toolbox when she left. I tried to find it on Friday, and it was gone already."