"Well, that would be why we were hoping you could check her out. She's very pushy. And she broke my cell phone, so if you need to reach me, either call on my business line or call Aunt Beth. Carla is worried about the baby. Mavis is going to call Terry and let him know what's going on."
"Back up,” Lauren said. “She broke your cell phone?"
"You don't want to know."
"It's probably a good idea about Terry. Here.” Lauren handed her a small tablet and a pen. “Write the names down and anything else you can think of. I'll see what I can find out."
"Let me know as soon as you find anything."
"The usual disclaimers apply."
"I know, no promises, and your paying customers come first, etc., etc., etc…"
"Have you done your dog block yet?” Lauren asked, changing the subject.
"No, Phyllis gave me a last-minute rush job, and Mavis has the first piece of Joseph's quilt ready to go on my machine as soon as I get home."
"I'm glad Robin or whoever it was decided we need a few more days. I'm playing with a doghouse block that's showing promise. I went to the senior home again this morning to help Sarah with a software problem, and she showed me hers. And yes, in spite of all her whining, she had a block done. Anyway, she's trying to do something with dog bones. I tried not to laugh, but her bones didn't look like bones, and I'm pretty sure her result would have to have an X rating."
"Did you tell her that?"
"I laughed, and she stuffed it back into her bag. After that, she wasn't interested in anything I had to say. And I did try to be tactful."
Harriet wished she could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation.
"I like your new place,” she said as she started to leave.
"You want to stay for some tea?” Lauren asked. “I'll understand if you're too busy,” she added in a rush.
"I think I have a few minutes,” Harriet replied. “I'd love a cup of tea.” She set her purse down by Lauren's sofa and followed her into her kitchen.
Harriet hadn't planned on spending an entire hour, but Lauren was reaching out to her, and she couldn't ignore that. She was sipping her peppermint herb tea with clover honey when she realized that, in all the uproar of Neelie's arrival, she'd forgotten to check on Randy. It was unlikely she'd talk to Aiden before the shower, so she'd just add it to her ever-growing list of to-do items.
"Where have you been?” Aunt Beth asked when she finally came into her studio through the outside door.
"Having tea with Lauren.
"Don't you lie to me,” Beth scolded.
"I'm not, and what are you doing here, anyway. Not that I don't love seeing you anytime, but I wasn't expecting you, was I?” She set her purse on the floor by one of the wingback chairs in the small waiting area set up near the door.
"Mavis filled me in on the doings at Aiden's house. I wanted to hear your take on it, and since you don't have a cell phone anymore, I couldn't call and ask. Anyway, I have a few tricks up my sleeve that might come in handy on Mavis's quilt piece."
"Have you been holding out on me?"
"Well, I can't tell you everything I know, now, can I? You might not need me anymore if I did that."
"You know that will never happen.” Harriet put her arm around her aunt's shoulders and quickly filled her in on Neelie's arrival at Aiden's and Carla's decision to let the woman and child stay with her.
"Mavis is going to call Terry and let him know what's going on, and I stopped by Lauren's to see what she can find out about Neelie and her sister. She also told me she'd seen Sarah, and that Sarah's attempts at making a dog bone block hadn't gone too well."
"I've been fiddling with novelty print fabrics with dog images on them,” Beth said. “The problem I'm running into is that none of the fabric companies make an extensive line of pet fabric that coordinates. I've collected half-yard cuts of every dog fabric on the market, and they're all over the map. I've got cartoon images, realistic dogs, pastel backgrounds, bright-colored backgrounds and everything in between. None of it goes together."
"Remember that class we took where we cut four-inch squares and mixed them all up in a garbage bag and then blindly pulled them out and sewed them into four-patch blocks? It was supposed to prove there were no bad combinations."
"Supposed to being the operative phrase there.” Beth sighed. “Trust me, my combinations are terrible."
"Maybe we can water them down by alternating them with a lot of great batiks."
"Let's see what we can do with Mavis's piece first,” Beth said. “I took the liberty of loading it onto the machine. I had an idea I want to show you about how to deal with the seam between the old and the new parts."
Chapter 8
Harriet woke up early on the morning of DeAnn's baby shower. She'd forgotten to put a midnight snack in Fred's food bowl the night before, and he'd punished her by head-butting her awake at six-thirty. By the time she staggered downstairs and provided a gob of the gelatinous goop Aiden had prescribed for Fred to clear up his dandruff, she was wide awake.
"Listen, you little wretch,” she said to him as he circled his dish and rubbed his face on her bare leg. “This was your idea. We could still be in our warm bed."
She hadn't changed the thermostat on the furnace to fall settings yet, and consequently, the kitchen was freezing. She was in the midst of her daily internal debate over the merits of going out for a walk versus going back to bed for another half-hour when the flashing red light on her answering machine caught her eye.
Aiden, she thought with a smile and picked the phone up. She pushed the play button on the ancient machine and listened in anticipation for the sound of his voice.
"I have to give it to you,” Lauren said. “Your problems are never boring."
Harriet's shoulders and spirits sagged.
"I haven't found birth or death documents for either of the adults and nothing on the baby."
"Why are you calling me, then?” Harriet wondered out loud. Fred looked up at the sound of her voice.
"I did find something interesting, though."
The phone in her hand buzzed, and Harriet startled so hard she again had to juggle the phone to avoid dropping it.
"Hello?"
"Guess what I just found?” Lauren asked.
"I was about to find out from the answering machine, but you cut yourself off."
"Guess."
"Lauren, it is not even seven o'clock yet. Could you just cut to the chase?"
"Oh, you're no fun."
Look who's talking, Harriet thought.
"I suppose going to your computer and watching a YouTube video clip is out of the question."
"Lauren, if you don't tell me something useful in the next thirty seconds, I'm hanging up."
"Fine,” she grumbled. “The video clip you refuse to watch shows a woman named Nabirye Obote talking about contaminated water wells near Oraba, Uganda, which is apparently a village or town near the Sudanese border. I think she is saying that the wells were contaminated on purpose, but I'm not sure because my translation program had a hard time with her accent."
"So, she made a video at some point before she died."
"You are definitely not a morning person, are you?” Lauren said. “If she'd made a video in the past, I wouldn't be calling you. This video was posted yesterday."
"Yeah, but couldn't it have been made earlier and just not posted until yesterday?"
"It could have, but why post it after she died, and if you were going to post it after she died, don't you think you'd mention her death?"
"Are you sure it's the woman we're looking for?"
"Of course not, how could I know that? All I can tell you is that a woman named Nabirye Obote made a video in Uganda two days ago. Oh, and she looks to be of childbearing age. I don't know how common the name is, but with nothing else to go on, that's what I've got."
Harriet sat down on a stool at her kitchen bar, phone in hand.