The alley was lit with the yellow glare from a lamp at the back of the building. She was about to turn away when she saw two people enter the alley, passing through the bright circle of light cast by the lamp then stopping at a dark door in the building opposite the restaurant. The first person reached in and turned on a light that illuminated the stairway that ascended from the small entry.
The two people were clearly visible in the light. The second person was Lauren. The one leading the way was the janitor they'd seen talking to her the night before. He was carrying an armload of papers and file folders as he held the door and let Lauren inside.
Chapter Eleven
Harriet was thankful Tom dropped her in the parking lot to the Tree House and let her walk to the door unescorted. She hoped the Loose Threads had turned in early, but as she entered she heard voices coming from the common area.
"Don't even think of sneaking upstairs without making a full report,” Mavis ordered from her perch on one of the leather sofas.
Harriet surrendered to the unavoidable and went in where they were seated.
"Sit down,” Connie said. “I'll make you some tea.” She got up and put the kettle on to boil.
As expected, Lauren was absent, and Harriet was glad to see that Sarah was also.
"Sarah is helping Patience prep materials for her class tomorrow,” Mavis explained, as if reading her mind. “Carla is taking advantage of the clawfoot tub and the lavender bath salts in the downstairs bathroom. So, talk. What happened, and what was Aiden doing with that blond bimbo?"
Harriet crossed the room and picked up a pillow from the couch. She carried it to the twig rocking chair and put it against the back then sat down. She knew she wasn't fooling anyone with her stalling tactics, but she needed to gather her thoughts.
"Start at the beginning,” Connie suggested, and set a steaming cup of Constant Comment on the hearth within reach.
Harriet recounted the note, her call back and Aiden's failure to show up. She ended with her bumping into him at the pottery exhibit. She left out the part where she'd hidden from them.
"If he no-showed, where have you been and why weren't you at the pottery show?” Mavis demanded.
She explained how she had met Tom while looking at the pottery and that he'd asked her to dinner, since Aiden was obviously otherwise occupied.
"He's cute,” Robin said.
Mavis glared at her.
"We ran into him on our walk the other day,” Robin added in self-defense.
"Shouldn't he be at the hospital with his mother?” Connie asked.
"He said she wanted him to come make sure the school was surviving in her absence. I didn't think I should refuse his invitation, given the circumstances."
"Don't even try to make us believe you went out with him out of sympathy,” Mavis said. “You went with that fellow because you were hurt when you saw Aiden with another woman. There could be a completely innocent explanation."
"And what would that be?"
"Maybe he didn't get your message."
"Of course. He didn't get my message, and instead of calling or asking someone if that were the case, he asks the blond bombshell to go in my place. Is that how you figure it?” She got up and strode across the room.
"I'm sure there's a perfectly innocent reason for that,” Mavis insisted.
"Yeah, but you can't think of one, can you? Well, I couldn't either, so, yes, you got me. I had an opportunity to go to dinner with a handsome, available man, and given the alternative of coming back here and telling all of you I'd been stood up, I took it."
Connie got the kettle and topped off Mavis's and Robin's cups then took it back to the kitchenette. Robin busied herself with her hand stitching.
"On an unrelated subject,” Harriet continued. “When I was in the ladies room at the restaurant, I looked out the window, and you'll never guess who I saw."
"Don't keep us in suspense, honey,” Mavis said.
"Lauren and the janitor from the other night. And they went through a door that opened onto some stairs that looked like they went up to apartments over the storefront."
"That's weird,” Robin said. “I wonder what she was doing with him."
"I don't know, but he was carrying an armload of papers. They looked like files or something."
"She said she was going back to the classroom to dye some thread for tomorrow's class,” Connie said. “Are you sure it was Lauren?"
"She walked right under the streetlight, and so did he."
"Maybe she has a boyfriend,” Mavis offered. “It is allowed. And you did see her with someone last night."
"Yeah, but I can't imagine her being evolved enough to date a janitor. Besides, their body language didn't look like they were a couple."
"You're right,” Mavis acknowledged, “it is interesting."
"So, what class is everyone taking tomorrow?” Robin asked, ending speculation about Lauren's love life.
Harriet and Carla would be together again, this time taking a two-day class working on pieced patterns that used elongated triangles to create the illusion of curved shapes. Lauren and Connie would continue their advanced machine embroidery and Mavis her dyeing. Robin and Sarah were going to be doing bobbin work. With that established, everyone decided to call it a night.
Chapter Twelve
Clouds greeted the Loose Threads as they stepped off the Tree House porch and headed for the dining cabin. Harriet pulled the hood of her gray sweatshirt over her shower-damp hair. Carla gave her a sheepish glance and drew her hood up over her own dark hair, pulling the strings to close it around her face. They all made room as a small group of pottery students descended the steps and turned down the path toward building A.
Inside, the oak sideboard was set up with insulated carafes of coffee, hot water and hot cocoa. A large pitcher of orange juice surrounded by clean glasses sat to one side of the hot drinks. Sarah grabbed it and poured a glass. She held it up to the light as if it were a fine wine she was evaluating.
"This is probably that frozen kind that comes in a can,” she said to no one in particular as she sat down at the long table.
The cook's braid was pinned up in a thick coil on top of her head this morning, giving her a Scandinavian look. She carried a tray laden with bowls of steaming oatmeal to the table and started setting one at each place.
"I squeezed the juice this morning while you were still getting your beauty sleep,” she said without looking up from her task. “I've got the peels in the compost pile out back if you need proof."
"I'm sure that won't be necessary,” Mavis soothed her, and glared at Sarah.
"The oatmeal looks delicious,” Connie added. “And were those raisins and dates I saw on the sideboard?"
The cook glared a long moment at Sarah's back-Sarah refused to turn and face her-before she turned to Connie.
"Yes, you'll find raisins, dates, brown and white sugar, honey, butter and cream on the tray over there. And maple syrup in the brown pitcher. Help yourself."
Harriet carried her bowl to the condiment tray and sprinkled a handful of raisins and a spoon of brown sugar onto it. Lauren appeared and joined her at the sideboard.
"You have to fix this,” she demanded.
"Fix what?” Harriet asked.
"You have to prove I did my quilt first. You owe me."
Ever since a show quilt Lauren had placed high hopes for a win on had ended up shredded by a murderer, the woman kept insisting the loss was Harriet's fault and demanding reparation. Harriet had finally accepted it was pointless to argue otherwise.
"How am I supposed to do that?” She tried to remain calm.
"You're so clever-figure it out,” Lauren spat, then spun around and stormed out of the building.
Harriet carried her bowl back to the long table and sat down. “Remind me again why I ‘owe’ her?” she asked.
"Because she's Lauren,” Robin replied, busy with her own bowl of cereal.