"Are you going to work any more on your rectangles?” Jan asked Harriet.
"I didn't bring my sewing machine, but I thought I might cut mine.” She turned to Carla. “Are you going to do any more?"
Carla studied her toes. “I thought I would try to cut a few."
"Do you want to get together later and compare what we've done? You know, make sure they all look somewhat the same.” Jan asked.
"Sure, I guess,” Harriet looked at Carla, and the young woman nodded. “Would you like to come by our dorm later? We're staying in the Tree House."
Jan agreed, and they parted company at the classroom door.
Mavis and Connie were already settled in the common room when Harriet and Carla arrived. Connie had a teapot and cups on a tray on the oak table between the sofas. She had wrapped a dishtowel around the pot to keep the contents warm until the rest of the group arrived.
Mavis was talking on the dormitory's cordless phone. She covered the mouthpiece with her right hand.
"Carla, honey,” she said, “it's your sister. She says she needs to speak to you."
Carla took the phone and turned away from the group. Mavis put her hand on Harriet's back and guided her to the sofa.
"I presume you heard about Selestina?"
"Yeah, we heard. What did they tell your class?"
"Not much. They said Selestina died of a fatal heart arrhythmia."
"I don't think heart rhythm problems are unusual for women her age,” Connie said. “A couple of ladies in my aerobics class take heart rhythm medications already."
"Yeah, but do they die from it?” Harriet asked.
Connie's face lost its animation as she thought about it. “No, I don't think so. I can't think of anyone I know who's died from a heart rhythm problem."
"Your record is still clean,” Darcy Lewis said from the entryway. Darcy worked for the Foggy Point sheriff's office as a crime scene investigator. Foggy Point wasn't a big enough town to support one full-time CSI much less the three it had, but the state of Washington had made a deal with the county to host the unit that served the small towns in the northwestern part of the state. Foggy Point wasn't a hotbed of crime; but the state politicians had discovered that if fingerprints were taken at every crime in every town, no matter how minor, the public felt safer and that meant votes for the incumbent regime. It didn't seem to matter to either side that the evidence collected at car prowls and simple burglaries didn't usually result in conviction. Even when it did, the perpetrator was out on the street in a matter of hours, if not minutes.
"Hi, Darcy,” Mavis greeted the young woman. “What are you doing here? Did you decide to take a class after all?"
"I wish that was why I'm here. No, I'm here professionally. I'm on the state's poison task force, which means anytime someone dies from any type of poison anywhere in the state, I get to go there and collect samples."
"Selestina was poisoned?” Harriet asked, even though Darcy's presence made that obvious.
"Looks like it.” Darcy took off her uniform jacket and draped it over the arm of the sofa. “And whoever did it almost got away with it."
"Sit, mija,” Connie said, moving her sewing bag from the sofa to the floor to make space. “What happened?” She took a cup from the tray and started to unwrap a tea bag. “Can you stay long enough for a cup of tea?"
"As a matter of fact, I can.” Darcy took the tea when it was ready and sat next to her. “I have to wait for the local investigator to arrive. I guess he's dealing with a mentally disturbed guy who attacked a clerk at the Angel Harbor Grocery Sack."
"Could we back up a second here?” Harriet interrupted. “We were told Selestina died from a heart problem."
"That's true. The reason I'm here is because someone thinks the heart problem was caused by poison. She had some rather atypical symptoms."
"So we've heard."
"We have?” Mavis asked; her left eyebrow rose.
"There's a doctor in our class. She was there when Selestina collapsed. She was just telling Carla and me that Selestina had unusual symptoms."
"And no one would have been the wiser,” Darcy added, “if there hadn't been a pathology intern moonlighting in the ER when she came in. He recognized the symptoms right away, but unfortunately, he wasn't the first doctor to see her. She just hadn't gone up to ICU yet when he came in for the shift change. As I understand it, they already had a cardiologist seeing her in the ER. The pathologist was just doing a routine check of all the patients. If she'd been younger, maybe they could have saved her, but even then it would have been touch-and-go if it ends up being what they suspect."
"What do they suspect?” Harriet asked.
"Sorry, I've said too much already,” Darcy said. “I'm sure there will be some kind of official statement after the test results are back.” She tried to smile, but the gesture never fully materialized.
"This week sure hasn't turned out how I expected so far,” Connie said and lifted the lid on the teapot. It was nearly empty.
"You stay where you are,” Mavis told her. “I'll make this round."
Connie put her feet back up on the edge of the table as Mavis picked up the teapot and went for a refill.
"What's wrong?” Mavis said as she came in. She set the pot on the counter and circled the island to where Carla stood, her packed duffel bag at her feet. She was surprised. She'd been so intent on Darcy's arrival and subsequent news, she hadn't noticed Carla had gone upstairs after her phone call. Tears were now running down the young woman's face, dripping from her nose and chin.
"Nothing,” Carla said and scrubbed at her cheeks with the cuffs of her sweatshirt.
"Honey, if I'm not mistaken, people don't usually cry over nothing, and those don't look like happy tears."
"I'm fine,” Carla insisted, trying for defiance but missing badly.
"I might not be able to fix what's wrong, but we won't know unless you tell me. I've learned that sometimes the telling can be a help, and with five boys, I've had a lot of practice listening."
Carla took a moment to compose herself as she pulled a stool away from the counter and sat on it. Mavis followed suit, placing her seat so her knees were touching Carla's.
"My sister has been taking care of Wendy.” Carla hesitated, and Mavis reached out and took her hand. “Wendy, she's my baby. Anyway, Cissy has been taking care of Wendy while I'm here, but she heard there was a new restaurant opening in Port Ludlow, and she called and got an interview for tomorrow. I have to go home and pick up Wendy from her.” She looked around. “This was really fun,” she said sadly and stood up. “I better go. Cissy said if I can get to the ferry that leaves in an hour and a half, her boyfriend is working construction in Port Townsend, and he can give me a ride back to Foggy Point."
"Just you hold on a minute. Let me see what I can do.” Mavis patted the hand she held before she got up to fetch the phone.
Carla rubbed her sleeve over her face again. Mavis turned away as she spoke quietly into the receiver. After what must have seemed like an eternity to Carla, she hung up the phone and turned back around.
"Go unpack your bag,” she said. “Then you can call your sister and tell her your friend Beth is going to pick up Wendy in the morning. Beth can keep her until one of you gets back."
Carla's eyes filled with tears again, but her shy smile had reappeared.
"Thank you, Miz Mavis."
The older woman smiled and handed her a tissue from a box on the counter.
"Now those are happy tears,” she said. “Go tend to business, and then you can come down and have a nice warm cup of tea."
"What took you so long?” Harriet asked when Mavis returned to the common room with the fresh pot of tea.
Before she answered, Mavis settled into her spot at the end of the sofa and picked up a plastic sandwich bag full of pre-cut triangular pieces of fabric in rich brown-toned batiks and an array of coordinating prints. She preferred to piece and quilt by hand with needle and thread instead of using a sewing machine. Harriet had to concede that hand work offered a portability and simplicity machine sewing didn't.