Read Online Quilt As Desired by Arlene Sachitano - Free Book Online
Authors: Arlene Sachitano
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the seat of the wing chair. Jenny's purple quilt just needed its binding reapplied on one side. It, too, got folded and placed on the chair.
DeAnn's hadn't fared as well. She had done a simple eight-pointed star block called Peaceful Hours . It had a second set of smaller points that surrounded a center octagon. Both sets of points were densely stitched, which allowed the octagon to puff up. Several of the octagons had been cut open. DeAnn could repair the tears and applique a motif in the octagons, but sewing small shaped fabric pieces over a background fabric with stitches that were essentially invisible was slow, painstaking work under ideal conditions. Performing the technique as a method of covering damaged fabric would be difficult, and it was unlikely it could be accomplished in time for the show.
Two seams had been split open on Robin McLeod's log cabin quilt, but again, it was damage that could be repaired.
There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to the carnage. Some quilts were shredded beyond recognition while others were barely touched, as if the attacker had tired of ripping them up partway through.
"I need to call the Loose Threads,” she said with grim determination.
"You know it's almost eleven o'clock, right?” Aiden pointed out.
"Trust me, they won't care. I'm supposed to take their quilts to the show tomorrow. They're going to want all the time available to fix the damage, if that's even possible."
She looked around the floor, found the phone and then the phone book. She dialed Mavis Willis first. Mavis hadn't lost anything in the carnage, but besides Avanell she was the only group member Harriet had known for more than a couple of weeks. She was sure Mavis would know who should be called tonight and how to break the news of what had happened. Besides, with the contents of her desk in the mix on the floor, she'd need Mavis to fill in some last names and phone numbers.
"Honey, you just hang on while I throw on some clothes and grab my stitching bag. I'll be right over,” Mavis said as soon as she heard the news.
"She's on her way,” she told Aiden and hung up.
"I tried to call my mom again while you were on the phone,” Aiden said and flipped his cell phone shut. “It's weird. She's not answering anywhere."
"Maybe she's working late,” Harriet said. “The reason she didn't go to the Chamber dinner tonight was so she could work. Maybe she's still there."
"I guess. She must be out in the factory and can't hear the phone. It's just weird. Mom has to look behind the shower curtain to make sure no one is in the house after dark when she's home alone. It's hard to imagine her in the factory by herself. And it's not like her to be out of touch."
"Maybe she's not alone.” Harriet didn't want to point out that his mother might have found a boyfriend in the three years he was out of the country.
Chapter Eleven
Darcy came through the door from the kitchen to the studio.
"We'll need to get fingerprint samples from you both for exclusionary purposes,” she said. “It'd be good if we could get prints from your aunt, too."
"I think she had to be fingerprinted when she signed up to teach quilting at the middle school,” Harriet said.
"I'll check when we get back to the lab, but that would help if she did."
"How does the rest of the house look?"
"Not too bad, actually. The studio was clearly the focus of the attack. A few drawers and closets were dumped, but it looks like they didn't do much more than pass through most of the rooms. I tried to wipe the print powder up as we went but watch for it. We don't need that on the quilts on top of everything else."
"Oh, my God,” Mavis said from the outside door. She picked up the brass bells that lay silent on the floor and hung them in their customary place on the doorknob. She crossed the room and pulled Harriet into a warm hug. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
Harriet felt stiff in her arms. She wondered what she was supposed to do—stand like a
DeAnn's hadn't fared as well. She had done a simple eight-pointed star block called Peaceful Hours . It had a second set of smaller points that surrounded a center octagon. Both sets of points were densely stitched, which allowed the octagon to puff up. Several of the octagons had been cut open. DeAnn could repair the tears and applique a motif in the octagons, but sewing small shaped fabric pieces over a background fabric with stitches that were essentially invisible was slow, painstaking work under ideal conditions. Performing the technique as a method of covering damaged fabric would be difficult, and it was unlikely it could be accomplished in time for the show.
Two seams had been split open on Robin McLeod's log cabin quilt, but again, it was damage that could be repaired.
There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to the carnage. Some quilts were shredded beyond recognition while others were barely touched, as if the attacker had tired of ripping them up partway through.
"I need to call the Loose Threads,” she said with grim determination.
"You know it's almost eleven o'clock, right?” Aiden pointed out.
"Trust me, they won't care. I'm supposed to take their quilts to the show tomorrow. They're going to want all the time available to fix the damage, if that's even possible."
She looked around the floor, found the phone and then the phone book. She dialed Mavis Willis first. Mavis hadn't lost anything in the carnage, but besides Avanell she was the only group member Harriet had known for more than a couple of weeks. She was sure Mavis would know who should be called tonight and how to break the news of what had happened. Besides, with the contents of her desk in the mix on the floor, she'd need Mavis to fill in some last names and phone numbers.
"Honey, you just hang on while I throw on some clothes and grab my stitching bag. I'll be right over,” Mavis said as soon as she heard the news.
"She's on her way,” she told Aiden and hung up.
"I tried to call my mom again while you were on the phone,” Aiden said and flipped his cell phone shut. “It's weird. She's not answering anywhere."
"Maybe she's working late,” Harriet said. “The reason she didn't go to the Chamber dinner tonight was so she could work. Maybe she's still there."
"I guess. She must be out in the factory and can't hear the phone. It's just weird. Mom has to look behind the shower curtain to make sure no one is in the house after dark when she's home alone. It's hard to imagine her in the factory by herself. And it's not like her to be out of touch."
"Maybe she's not alone.” Harriet didn't want to point out that his mother might have found a boyfriend in the three years he was out of the country.
Chapter Eleven
Darcy came through the door from the kitchen to the studio.
"We'll need to get fingerprint samples from you both for exclusionary purposes,” she said. “It'd be good if we could get prints from your aunt, too."
"I think she had to be fingerprinted when she signed up to teach quilting at the middle school,” Harriet said.
"I'll check when we get back to the lab, but that would help if she did."
"How does the rest of the house look?"
"Not too bad, actually. The studio was clearly the focus of the attack. A few drawers and closets were dumped, but it looks like they didn't do much more than pass through most of the rooms. I tried to wipe the print powder up as we went but watch for it. We don't need that on the quilts on top of everything else."
"Oh, my God,” Mavis said from the outside door. She picked up the brass bells that lay silent on the floor and hung them in their customary place on the doorknob. She crossed the room and pulled Harriet into a warm hug. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry."
Harriet felt stiff in her arms. She wondered what she was supposed to do—stand like a
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