Read Online Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) by Arlene Sachitano - Free Book Online Page B

Then she said apparently, Leo had found Amber wandering the neighborhood on numerous occasions and finally took her to the police when she was out on the main road by herself.”
    Lauren picked up her coffee and took a sip.
    “So, maybe she was run over?”
    “Yeah, that was my thought. Amber is killed, Molly gets knocked out, someone gets scared and covers it up.”
    “It’s still bad, but not nearly the sort of bad Molly is thinking.”
    Lauren tapped a few keys on her laptop.
    “I did a little digging on him after we talked last time.”
    She turned the computer around so Harriet could see her notes on the screen.
    “He came back to Foggy Point. He and his wife worked overseas for six years—she’s a teacher, and they both taught English in Thailand. Looks like they rented their house out and then moved back in when they came back. It appears they’re retired now.”
    “Aunt Beth thought he might be willing to talk to us if we approached it right.”
    Lauren smiled.
    “You know I’m the soul of tact. As my mother always said, ‘a closed mouth gathers no foot.’ Speaking of which, don’t turn around, but the happy couple just walked in and headed to a corner table.”
    “Which happy couple?”
    “Molly and her published poet.”
    Harriet rolled her eyes to the ceiling and blew out a breath.
    “Are you free now? If you are, maybe we can swing by Leo’s and see what he thinks about the accident theory.”
    “I’m done here.”
    “Let’s get out of here before Molly notices us. I don’t think I can do another ‘No, I haven’t found out anything yet’ conversation.”

    Leo Tabor lived in an older, well-kept yellow house with a small front yard bordered by landscaped flowerbeds. A white picket fence extended on either side of an arched, gated entry. Harriet lifted the latch and led the way to the covered porch.
    A chubby balding man dressed in khaki work clothes opened the door when she knocked.
    “Can I help you?”
    “My name is Harriet Truman, and this is my friend Lauren Sawyer. We’re friends of a woman named Molly Baker, and she’s asked us to look into an incident that happened when she was a small child.”
    Leo—Harriet assumed that’s who he was—stiffened, and his jaw muscles tightened. He slid his hand to the doorknob.
    “My aunt, Beth Carlson, suggested we talk to you. She is…was a friend of Avanell Jalbert,” she said in a rush.
    At the mention of Avanell’s name, Leo relaxed slightly but kept his hand on the doorknob.
    “What is it you want from me?”
    Harriet took a deep breath. She knew if she didn’t word things just right, he would slam the door in her face, and that would be the end of any cooperation from him.
    “Aunt Beth told us that Amber was in the habit of wandering the neighborhood unaccompanied. She said you’d even called the police about it.”
    Leo’s shoulders sagged.
    “Would you like to come in?” he asked and held the door open.
    Harriet looked at Lauren and, seeing no objection, went inside.
    “Wow,” she said as her eyes adjusted to the light. Quilts were draped over the backs of the sofa, the side chairs, and hung on a multi-quilt display rack. Most were Baltimore Album style and appeared to have been hand-quilted. On one wall, there were Mola-style reverse-appliqué pieces.
    “My wife Janet is a quilter.”
    “I’m surprised I haven’t seen any of her work at the local shows.”
    “Would you like some iced tea or lemonade?” He looked at them and they both nodded.
    “Lemonade would be nice,” Lauren said and Harriet nodded her agreement.
    “Janet is working in the back garden. I’ll go get her.”
    Lauren stepped closer to the display rack.
    “These are incredible. The hand stitching is so uniform.”
    Harriet joined her for a closer look.
    “Would you believe I stab stitch?” a woman said from a doorway that led to the back of the house. “I’m Janet.”
    She held her hand out to Harriet, who took it. Janet’s handshake was