Harriet scooped a spoonful of soup into her mouth and followed it with a bite of crusty homemade French bread. The group got the message and let her eat in silence.
"Okay, so where were you and did you find proof that someone copied my work?” Lauren demanded, once more swooping down on Harriet after her lunch companions had left the dining hall.
"I didn't find anything that indicated Selestina copied your work. As your advisor, I assume she's the one who would see your design first. Since it would take some time to produce the copy, I can't think of anyone else who would have enough access to do it.” Harriet put her spoon down. “I searched her office."
"That's my girl,” Mavis said, sounding like the proud mother of a spelling bee winner.
Harriet looked at her. “I didn't find anything useful, though. Her desk only had a few packing slips on it, and her file cabinets were locked, so it was a big zero."
"I could have told you that,” Lauren sneered. “I told you to find me proof. If it was that easy, I'd have my proof already."
"What, you searched her office?” Harriet asked, jumping to her feet. “If you're finding your own evidence, why are you guilt-tripping me? I'm through with your games-you can untangle your own mess.” She stomped into the kitchen with her empty bowl.
Lauren followed her through the double doors as she was rinsing her bowl at the deep copper sink.
"Okay, I'm sorry,” Lauren apologized. “I was just counting on you to come up with something. You don't know what it's like having everyone think they know something bad about you but really they don't."
Yeah, thought Harriet, I know what it's like. And what it's like when everyone actually knows something bad and doesn't tell you.
Her husband Steve had kept the fact he had a genetic condition that could kill him before he was forty from her, yet he somehow felt free to tell all their friends about it. Not one of them thought she needed to be bothered with the information, and when he died from a burst aorta, they couldn't understand why she didn't want their sympathy.
Harriet knew all about being an outsider.
"So, what did you find out,” she asked without turning around.
Lauren slid onto one of the tall stools that circled a knife-scarred wood center island. “There was a stack of papers and files on her desk."
Harriet took a stool on the opposite side. “So?” she prompted.
"There wasn't anything useful. There was a receipt for a package that was mailed to England two months ago-it was for a quilt, but there was no detailed description so it was worthless."
"Let's let me be the judge of that. I want the papers. All of them."
"I'm telling you, there's nothing there."
"Look, do you want my help or not? If you don't, we're through here.” Harriet started to get up.
"I don't have the papers."
"What? I thought you said you took them."
"Actually, I didn't say I had the papers.” Lauren's shoulders slumped, and she let out a big sigh. “My brother took the files that were on Selestina's desk."
"Your brother?” Harriet said, louder than she'd intended.
"Shhh,” Lauren said, and lowered her own voice to barely above a whisper.” She leaned across the table. “Yes, my brother. He's the janitor here."
"Why are we whispering?” Harriet asked in a normal voice. “Are you embarrassed because your brother is a janitor?"
"Shhh,” Lauren said again. “Of course I don't mind if my brother's a janitor. It's way more complicated than that, not that it's any of your business."
"Fine."
"Look, just because you're finding out why I'm being accused of copying Selestina's work, it doesn't mean we are suddenly BFFs"
"BFFs?"
"My point exactly. My brother has the files at his apartment in town. He doesn't get off work until six. I'll have him bring them back to the Tree House after dinner."
Lauren stood up, and Harriet understood she was being dismissed. She was still sitting at the island when Mavis came through the doors.
"You're not bleeding,” she said. “Does this mean we're still on the case?"
"We are not on the anything."
"You mean you're not the least bit interested in finding out who made her quilt first?"
"I didn't say I wasn't interested. I just don't think we should make a major production out of finding out. And might I remind you there's no proof Selestina was the one who produced the duplicate quilt?"
"My money's still on Selestina,” Mavis said.
Robin leaned through the doors. “Come on, ladies, time to get back to class."
Chapter Thirteen
Carla and Harriet were at an ironing board at the back of their classroom starching their fabric rectangles to within an inch of their lives when their teacher interrupted.
"Class, would everyone return to their seats, please?"
The students looked at each other in puzzlement but did as she asked. When they were all seated, Ray Louise came around to the front of her table and sat on the edge.
"I'm afraid I have some sad news,” she said. “I've just been informed Selestina Bainbridge has passed away."
"What happened?” a dark-haired woman at the back of the room asked.
"I thought she was awake and alert at the hospital,” said a younger woman toward the front.
The teacher held her hands up. “We don't know anything yet. They were treating her for a heart arrhythmia, and she must have had a heart attack before they could control it. I'm not a doctor, so I can't really tell you any more than that-I just don't know. The important thing is that this tragic event will not impact your time here. Of course, there will be some staff changes for a few of the classes, but it was Selestina's wish that school continue. It was her legacy. She told her son Tom it was important to her that her students not be disappointed."
"Almost makes you feel sorry for her, doesn't it?” said Jan Hayes, the doctor, who was standing next the Harriet.
"Almost,” Harriet conceded, remembering how vicious Selestina had been to Carla.
"Well, I can tell you one thing,” Jan said.
"What's that?"
"If she had a heart attack, it was a kind I've never seen before."
"How so?"
"People often have pain in their left arm if they're suffering a heart attack. Although women often don't have classic symptoms, Selestina's were beyond atypical. She seemed to have numbness in both her arms. And there was something wrong with her pupils, too. You can mark my words. She had something else going on besides a simple heart attack."
"Having said that,” Ray Louise continued, “we will cancel class for the rest of today. The teaching staff needs to meet to figure out how we will cover Selestina's work load for the rest of this week."
"Will we be able to stay here and continue working?” asked the dark-haired woman.
"No, we can't leave the room open without a staff member present, and we'll all be in the meeting. However, each of the dormitory buildings has a storeroom off the back porch. They should be unlocked, and if you look inside you should find card tables and chairs and power strips. You're are welcome to set tables up anywhere in your building as long as you don't disturb anyone else. If you didn't bring your own sewing machine, there are loaner machines available in the Folk Art Center office. The office is the smaller round building on the west side of Building A, which is the ceramics center.” She paused and looked over the group to see if anyone else had a question. “Lastly, if you can find it in your heart to do so, please say a prayer for the soul of a fine, fine, woman-Selestina Bainbridge.” Ray Louise left the room without another word.
A deafening clap of thunder broke the silence that had fallen over the room.
"I think that's our cue to leave,” Harriet whispered to Carla. The two desk-mates quietly packed up their tools and headed for the door.