"Of course,” she lied. “I've just been stitching quilts and working on quilt blocks for our dog adoption benefit quilts."
"Good, I wouldn't want to have to worry about you on top of everything here. I better go-I just wanted to let you know I'll be back in a day or two. The first temperature-controlled truck is arriving tomorrow, and when we load the last one, I'll head back."
"It's so good to finally talk to you."
Whatever Aiden said was lost in the ether as the connection went abruptly dead.
"Fred, my boy, this is going to get real interesting,” she said to her fuzzy companion.
After playing with Randy in Aiden's perfectly manicured yard she had resolved on her way home to clean out and winterize the modest flowerbeds passed on to her along with the house. Fortunately, Aunt Beth stopped by periodically and pulled weeds or divided plants, since Harriet had a bit of a black thumb where the outdoor plantings were concerned.
She realized she was still holding the phone. She set it back in its cradle and turned to look out the window. A light rain was falling. The tall Douglas fir trees at the head of her driveway glistened with silver drops. Saved! she thought.
Unlike the rest of the northwest, rain wasn't something that could be counted on in Foggy Point. The town sat in the “rain shadow” of the Olympic Mountains, and rainclouds had a tendency to pass right over the area without dropping their load.
She knew she should go work on her dog block but instead went to her computer and opened the email Lauren had sent her.
"Who are you?” she said as Nabirye Obote's image resolved on her screen.
She pressed the white play arrow and watched the entire clip without stopping. Nothing jumped out at her, so she watched it again and again. If Nabirye was, in fact, Neelie's sister, there wasn't a strong resemblance. There was a little similarity around the eyes, but Neelie had a narrow nose where Nabirye's was broad. Both women had full lips, but Neelie's mouth wasn't as wide. Or maybe it was just that she always seemed to have her lips pursed. Nabirye smiled easily in the video, speaking on a topic she was obviously passionate about.
"What am I missing?” Harriet said out loud. She pressed the white arrow again and, this time, forced herself not to look at the woman but at everything else in the scenes.
The action was divided into three parts. The first showed a mud hole. Animals were drinking on one side, and a child was scooping brown water into a plastic bucket on the other. There was nothing to indicate when in time it had been filmed.
The second scene was what Harriet assumed was a clean-water well. It looked like a large metal tray with a pipe, topped by a square metal box. A spout protruded from the side of the larger pipe, spilling clean liquid into a white bucket. Again, nothing that would pin it down to a particular date.
The final scene was in an office of some sort. This was the shortest. She stopped the play at the first full frame. It would have been nice if there had been something as obvious as a newspaper with the current date, or a calendar with the days marked off until today. No such luck.
Harriet printed a copy of her computer screen showing the office. She pulled it from her printer and turned the picture so the image was upside-down. She took another piece of blank paper and laid it over the picture, exposing only the first inch of the image. She searched the picture inch by inch in this manner, and when she was midway down the page she hit pay dirt.
She returned to her computer screen and hit the zoom button. Nabirye stood in front of a table. Under the table was a shipping carton. What appeared to be manufacturing data was printed on the side of the box. While it wasn't conclusive proof, whatever had been in the box had been manufactured or shipped ten days ago.
Given travel time for the package, Nabirye had been alive and appearing in a video a week ago, give or take a day. When you added the time Neelie had been in Foggy Point and the time it would have taken her to make arrangements and travel, it would seem that rumors of Nabirye's death had been greatly exaggerated.
Harriet moved to her cutting table and pulled out the sets of diamonds that were going to be her dog block. She needed to keep her hands busy while she thought about this latest revelation.
An hour passed, and she hadn't made any progress on her dog block, so she decided to put it aside for a while. The shower had provided a light lunch, but that had been hours ago, and she was starting to get hungry. Tico's Tacos could take care of that problem.
Harriet hadn't thought about it before, but she generally got an urge for enchiladas when she needed advice. Jorge Perez not only owned Foggy Point's best Mexican restaurant but was the father of Aiden's closest friend Julio, and had taken over as father figure when Aiden's own father died when he was still in grade school. Jorge was bound to have some insights for her on the subject of Neelie once she'd filled him in on what had been happening.
Chapter 11
"Hey, chiquita,” Jorge called from the kitchen as Harriet entered the restaurant. “You alone?"
It was early for dinner, and only two tables were occupied. A teenaged couple sat in the back corner, their heads close, whispering words meant only for each other. A larger group was clustered around two tables that had been pushed together and were laden with an assortment of nachos, quesadillas and taquitos. Probably co-workers on their way home from work, Harriet mused.
"Here we go,” Jorge said a few minutes later as he set a heaping stoneware bowl of freshly made guacamole and a basket of warm tortilla chips on the table at the booth where Harriet was sitting. He slid into the seat opposite her. “Next time you have a party, you let me know, and I'll fix food that will stick to your ribs."
Harriet stared at him.
"I can make fancy food, too, you know,” he said with a smile.
"How…?"
"Your aunt and Mavis picked up burritos a half-hour ago, Carla called in a takeout order for her boyfriend to pick up, and if you didn't see the blond one with the smart mouth in the parking lot, then you just missed her."
"Lauren was here?” Harriet was only surprised because, even though Foggy Point wasn't exactly a metropolis, people who lived on or near the water at Smuggler's Cove tended to frequent the cafes and pubs in their neighborhood. As a new resident of the area, she'd thought Lauren had been doing the same.
"Yeah, that's the one. She's become a bit of a regular since you had all those secret meetings in the back room. She likes my cheese nachos,” he added with a grin.
Harriet dipped a chip into the guacamole and slowly ate it, savoring the smooth flavor.
"Mmmm,” she said with a groan.
"Okay, I know my guacamole is good. Your theatrics are good for an old man's ego, but I've got chicken in the oven I have to tend to. What is it you want, chiquita?"
"I can't fool you, can I?” she said and laughed. “Okay, I was just wondering if you'd seen a young black woman with a baby around town."
"The same one your aunt was asking about?” Jorge grinned.
"That would be the one."
"I'll tell you what I told her and Mavis. I saw the woman, but not the baby. She came in here earlier today, met a guy for an early lunch and was out of here in less than an hour."
"What guy?"
"I don't know his name. I've seen him in here once or twice. Not with the se-orita, though."
"What did he look like?"
"Skinny, pale, probably late thirties or early forties. Light-brown hair. Looks like he works indoors.” Jorge paused and looked up for a moment. “That's all I can think of. He looks like a lot of guys."
"That must have been during the baby shower, when she was supposed to be out buying baby formula."
"I have to go check my pollo. If I see her-or him-again, I'll give you a call."