"I really don't know what I can tell you,” Harriet said. “I went to find someone in an apartment down at the docks. I shouldn't have gone there by myself, and I paid the price. I don't think there's any big mystery."
"It's true you should have known better than to go down to the docks alone, but you were still assaulted. It's a crime, and you need to report it."
"Fine, as long as I can do it from this chair."
Officer Nguyen sat in a dining room chair Mavis placed next to the recliner. He opened a black leather flip-top notebook.
"Tell me what happened,” he said. “The long version."
She told the story again, including approximate times. He took notes and asked a few questions. When they were both satisfied she could recall nothing more, he closed the notebook and stood up.
"This isn't much to go on, but at least it will be on the record if anything else happens. And if you want my advice, until we figure out what's going on, you should stay here with Mrs. Willis."
Mavis appeared again from the kitchen and showed him out.
"Well, that's settled, then. You'll stay."
"I'll stay until my head stops spinning, but I have a cat to feed and Aunt Beth's business to run. I can't stay in hiding indefinitely."
"We'll see about that.” Mavis glanced at the clock. “I'm going to go rinse off and get dressed, and then we can go back to your house so you can get some clothes and get ready for the memorial. You can either put out food for the cat, or if it would make you feel better, you can bring him along."
Harriet closed her eyes and slipped into a drug-induced sleep until Mavis came out and awakened her, dressed in black and holding her purse and car keys.
Fred was frantic when Harriet opened the kitchen door. She immediately put food in his dish, but he kept weaving between her legs and meowing. She groaned as she bent down to pick him up. He began to purr.
"Did you miss me?” she asked, and he head-butted her in reply.
"Let me talk to the cat,” Mavis ordered. “You go take a hot shower and get into something black."
Not a problem, Harriet thought.
She came back down stairs twenty minutes later in the same black dress she'd worn on her two outings with Harold. This time she'd draped a large black silk scarf with a tiny grey pattern over one shoulder and held it in place with a black enameled pin.
Fred was reluctant to be left behind, but the two women retreated to the studio and escaped out that door. Mavis drove them to Pins and Needles and parked in front of the store.
"Honey, are you all right?” Connie said and pulled Harriet into a hug as she walked in the door. Harriet's head hurt too much to protest. “My daughter-in-law works the night shift at the hospital. She told me Aiden brought you into the emergency room last night with a head injury.” She held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay, mija?"
"I'm fine-really. It was just a little bump on the head."
"It's a goose egg, Connie,” Mavis interjected. “Luckily, she inherited her aunt's hard head. She's going to stay with me for a few days, just to be sure."
"Good,” Connie said. “You listen to Mavis and do what she says."
"I plan on it.” Harriet looked around for something to drink so she could take a pain pill. All this hugging and moving was making her head hurt again.
She noticed Carla in the small classroom folding fat quarters she had just cut.
"I'm going to get a drink of water,” she said and headed for the breakroom. She got her water then stopped in the training room.
"Carla,” she said, “can I talk to you a minute?"
Carla got a deer-in-the-headlights look but nodded assent.
"Do you know where Misty is? I'd really like to talk to her. I went to her house and someone knocked me out. I think she's in trouble, and I'd like to help her."
Carla looked down. “She came to my house yesterday,” she said to the floor. “She wasn't doing too good."
"In what way?"
"She really needs her medicine, and she don't have any. I told her to go to the free clinic for now and that I could help her on payday. I couldn't tell if she was going to do it or not."
"Tell her I have some fabric for her baby quilt and tell her I will get her some medicine."
"I don't know where she is. She's hearing voices. She said a man is coming to get her, and then she took off. I don't know if she'll be back or not."
"Listen, can you call me if she shows up again? I'm serious-I'll get her medicine for her. I'll get her enough to last until she gets a new job."
Carla looked up at her with clear blue eyes. “I'll try,” she said.
Harriet returned to the group of women. DeAnn was relating a bit of gossip about a woman named Barbara whom Harriet had yet to meet when Lauren came in.
Robin put her arm around Lauren's shoulders. “I heard about your quilt. I'm so sorry. Can I do anything to help?"
Lauren glared at Harriet. “You can't, but she can,” she said and gestured toward her. “I stayed up all night and repaired my quilt. There isn't time for me to re-quilt it on my sewing machine, but it wouldn't take anytime at all on the long-arm."
"Fine,” Harriet said. “I'll do it. Right after the memorial service."
Mavis started to protest, but she silenced her with a glance.
"Where is my quilt?” Sarah Ness demanded as she entered the store.
"My day is complete,” Harriet muttered to Mavis.
"I went to your place of business and waited and waited and you never showed up,” Sarah yelled.
Harriet's head began to pound in earnest. “Could you please lower your voice?” she asked. “Your quilt is done. I just need to take it off the machine frame."
"You leave her alone,” Mavis scolded. “She hit her head and had to spend the night in the hospital, that's why she wasn't there for your appointment."
"I can't believe there weren't two minutes to call me,” Sarah complained. “You probably waited forever in the waiting room."
Mavis glared at her. Sarah finally noticed and stopped talking. She stuck her bottom lip out. Mavis sighed. Her third son had raised pouting to an art-form; Sarah was a rank amateur.
Sarah looked at Mavis as she spoke to Harriet.
"I'm coming over as soon as this memorial thing is over. Have my quilt ready.” She turned her back and flounced off to the breakroom.
"Don't you worry about her, honey.” Mavis rubbed Harriet's arm. “Okay, everyone,” she said to the group. “Who's driving, and who needs a ride?"
The women quickly divided themselves among three cars and drove toward the strait to the Unitarian Church. The gravel parking lot was half-full when they pulled up to the low, glass-fronted building. Harriet hoped the chapel inside was more inviting than the cold exterior and was not disappointed.
They entered an open reception area. Wooden racks held colorful pamphlets with titles like “Why Should I Try Your Church,” “Securing the Future” and “The Front Steps.” A somber-looking woman with long grey hair pulled back and held with a silver clasp was handing out funeral programs in front of two ornately carved wooden doors. Mavis looked at her watch.
"We're a few minutes early,” Michelle said as a lanky blond man in a black suit came into the vestibule from a hallway that led off to the left. Mavis walked up to her and clasped her hand.
"I'm so sorry for your loss,” she said. “Jackson, I'm so sorry to see you again under such unhappy circumstances,” she added to the blond man.
Harriet assumed Jackson was Michelle's husband.
Bertrand de LaFontaine emerged from the same hallway, accompanied by a small, pale woman with red-rimmed eyes and two equally pale young women who had to be his daughters.
Mavis and DeAnn went to the family.
"I'm so sorry for you loss,” Mavis repeated, and took his hand in her two. “Our group won't be the same without our most prolific prizewinner."