"Carla was having a little crisis, but we've got everything under control-for now, anyway. That little girl is truly living her life on the edge."
"Oh, you don't know the half of it,” Harriet said.
"At least she has a job,” Connie pointed out.
"That doesn't guarantee anything.” Harriet refilled her teacup.
"Anybody want to tell me what's been going on here?” Darcy asked. “I send you gals off to have a relaxing week of quilting, and here we are.” She swept her arms open to indicate the women sitting around the coffee table sipping tea.
No one spoke, and then they all started speaking at once.
"Hold on,” Darcy said. “One at a time, please."
By the time Mavis, Connie and Harriet had finished recounting what had happened in the last two and a half days, starting with Lauren's exhibition and ending with Selestina's death, Robin and Lauren had joined the tea party.
"Have you figured out how to prove my piece is the original?” Lauren demanded of Harriet, breaking the silence that had fallen over the group.
"A woman's dead here, Lauren. Don't you think accusing her of ripping off your work is in poor taste, given the circumstance?"
"You're the one who said Selestina was the most likely person, not Lauren,” Sarah pronounced as she swept in and plopped down on the couch between Mavis and Robin.
Harriet was trying to think of how to admit her lack of progress without setting off another outburst from Lauren when a tap on the door distracted the group and saved her.
"Hello? Anyone here?” Patience called from the entryway.
"We're in here,” Connie called back. “We're just having a cup of tea. Would you like to join us?” She got up. “Here, you can have my spot.” She picked up the once-again-depleted teapot for another refill.
Patience wore a gauzy skirt that appeared to be made up of several layers, each dyed a different shade of gray-black. She'd paired it with a black tunic-length ribbed turtleneck sweater that she'd belted at the waist with a wide black calfskin belt she had tied instead of buckled. She managed to look stylish in an arty sort of way and still honor Selestina with her mourning black.
"How are you doing,” Mavis asked. “We're all so sorry for your loss."
"It has been quite a shock,” Patience said. “Selestina was older of course, but I believe she was in good health."
"Are you sure you want us to finish out our week of classes?” Mavis asked. “Under the circumstances, I don't think anyone would expect a refund.” By the look on both Sarah's and Lauren's faces, Harriet was pretty sure that wasn't a wholly accurate assumption.
"Thank you for that, but Selestina wanted the school to keep operating. She made plans for every eventuality. She was a bit compulsive that way. And this is her legacy, after all."
"Won't that be up to her son?” Harriet asked. “Or her other relatives?"
"Tom is her only child, and let's just say he's not all that interested in this place."
That's an understatement, Harriet thought. It looked to her like he'd been planning to sell it out from under his mother.
"Selestina knew Tom had his own interests and that those didn't include the folk art school. That's why she'd made other provisions. We were partners, you see.” Patience curved her lips into a weak smile. “She's the front man, I guess you'd call it. I've always worked more behind the scenes.” When she realized what she'd said, referring to Selestina in the present tense, she began to weep softly.
"I don't know how I'm supposed to go on without her,” she blubbered. “I thought all our planning was just talk-you know, something to make her feel better, not something that was really going to happen. I can't run this place alone. This wasn't part of the plan.” She covered her face with her hands, and tears leaked out between her fingers.
Connie went into the kitchenette for the tissue box. She pulled out three and brought them to Patience. Robin rubbed her hand on the teacher's bony back.
Patience blew her nose and sat up straighter, shaking off Robin's hand in the process. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't come here to make a scene. I came to make sure you were all right. And to be sure everyone knows school will go on as scheduled.” She stood up. “Thank you for the tea. I've got two more houses to inform, so I better be on my way."
"That poor woman,” Connie said when Patience was gone.
"I have to agree. I can't see her running the place, either,” Harriet said. “Selestina seemed mean-spirited, but she also seemed to run a tight ship."
"Honey, let's not judge too quickly. We've only seen Patience in Selestina's shadow. She might be a great businesswoman in her own right. And kinder, too,” Mavis suggested.
"Okay, so she's wonderful,” Lauren said. “Can we get back to my catastrophe?"
"So, tell me again what the deal is,” Darcy said. “Your piece looks like the teacher's piece and you're here learning from the teacher, so this is a problem why?"
"It's a problem because I didn't copy her work or anyone else's. Someone has to have copied mine."
"If you're learning a certain skill set from a teacher, isn't it likely that everyone who takes the class will end up with something that looks similar?"
"We're studying machine embroidery, and hand dyeing our fabric. Selestina gave us a theme, but beyond that we could do anything. My piece didn't look like any of the other students'. And Selestina certainly never gave us any indication she was working on her own piece."
"Couldn't she have made something similar without copying your work?” Darcy persisted.
Lauren stood up. “Come on. Since you can't seem to comprehend what I'm telling you, come look. You'll see what I mean. My piece is still hanging in the exhibit hall.” She looked at the group seated around the table. “Anyone else want to come?"
Harriet and Robin got up.
"I don't need to join the drama,” Sarah said. “I'm going to go read my teacher's book on the creative use of thread."
"Whatever!” Lauren shot a dark look at Sarah's back as she retreated up the stairs.
The women made a quick, silent trip through the woods to the fiber arts building.
"This way.” Lauren led them around the display hall. “Arghhh!” she screamed.
Harriet, Robin and Darcy reached her and looked at the empty wall where her piece had hung the day before.
"Calm down,” Darcy said. “Screaming isn't going to help anything."
"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation,” Harriet added. “Don't they send them to London to be evaluated at the textile guild? Maybe they took yours down so they could pack it for shipping."
"Okay, genius,” Lauren snarled, fire in her eyes. “Why are all the others still here? Do you think they started in the middle of the exhibit? You do know they send everyone's work, right? They don't pick one person's work to send. They all go.” She looked away in disgust then turned back. “Why are you defending them, anyway?"
Harriet held her hands up, palms out in placation. “Hey, leave me out of this."
"Why don't you go to the office and ask what happened?” Darcy suggested. “Come on, I'll go with you.” She put her arm around Lauren's shoulders and turned her back toward the door then glanced back at Harriet and Robin and rolled her eyes skyward.
"Doesn't it seem a little strange that if only one piece has gone missing it would turn out to be Lauren's?” Harriet wondered aloud once they were gone.
"It's pretty convenient for Selestina. Or it would be if she wasn't beyond caring."
"That's the part that doesn't make sense.” Harriet was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we're making this more complicated than it is. If Lauren has been her usual charming self in class, maybe she offended a classmate and they took her quilt in retaliation."