A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) by Arlene Sachitano Page A

laughter that usually accompanied Loose Threads gatherings. Robin was dressed in her usual yoga pants and pastel stretch top, but her face was all lawyer. DeAnn had on an oversized tie-dyed T-shirt she’d gotten at the previous month’s 1960s festival; her demeanor was no match for its bright colors.
    Sarah had irritated everyone in the group at one time or another, but none of them wished the kind of beating she’d taken on her or anyone else.
    “So, why exactly are we here?” Harriet asked.
    “Lunch, I hope,” Lauren said
    “We’re not sure,” Robin offered. “Your aunt said she’d explain when we got here.”
    “Which I will,” Aunt Beth told them as she came into the room carrying menus. “Anyone need one of these?”
    “Do we know the specials?” DeAnn asked.
    Jorge’s disembodied voice came over the intercom.
    “We have chiles relleños with a chicken tamale, albondigas mexicanas—that’s meatball soup for you gringas—and tacos al pastor , a slow-cooked street-style pork taco.” He paused. “And of course, whatever salad Blondie wants.”
    Jorge prided himself on knowing his regular customers’ dietary preferences, and Robin was definitely a salad person.
    “I’m torn,” Harriet said. “I love the chiles relleños, but the tacos sound good, too.”
    “Say no more,” Jorge said from the intercom.
    The rest of the group told him their requests, and Aunt Beth set the menus on the server station and joined them.
    “I’d like to wait for Connie to get here,” Beth said. “Mavis can’t come. She’s getting her hair cut in Angel Harbor and was just getting in the chair when she got my message. Here’s Connie now,” she added as her friend came into the room.
    “Do you want to begin or should I?” she asked Beth.
    “Go ahead.”
    Connie stood behind her chair.
    “Today I took a few of the completed adult bibs to the senior center, using the excuse that we needed them to try them out and see if they were the right size. Normally, I would have talked to Sarah at the front desk, and she would have taken care of whatever I needed.
    “A new young woman was there. I’ve never seen her before, so I took a chance and pretended I didn’t know what had happened to Sarah.”
    “Did she buy it?” Lauren interrupted.
    Connie straightened her shoulders, drawing herself to her full height of just shy of five feet.
    “I think so. She said she usually works in the back office and was filling in for Sarah while she recovered from a recent ‘illness.’ I told her I knew it was a family business and wondered if she was part of the family. She doesn’t look like Sarah, I might add. She’s fine-boned and blond—the opposite of Sarah. She said her dad owns the place. I didn’t let on that I knew Sarah’s step-dad and her mom are the real owners.”
    “Wait, does that mean she’s Sarah’s sister? Or half or step? Why have we never heard about her?” Harriet asked.
    Lauren looked at her.
    “Really? Think about it. When did Sarah ever talk about anything other than herself? She talked about her boyfriend when they were first seeing each other, but even then, it was always in the context of what she was going to wear or where they were going to go. She mentions her parents only when it has to do with their work demands interfering with her social life.”
    Aunt Beth cleared her throat.
    “Let’s remember who the victim is here.”
    “Sorry.” Lauren sat back in her chair.
    “Did you see anything else?” Harriet asked Connie.
    Connie walked the length of the table then returned to her place before speaking.
    “I saw the elusive boyfriend.”
    “Whoa,” Carla said. “What was he like?”
    “I only spoke to him briefly. He was delivering medication for a patient we were going in to see. He was charming, handsome and very smooth. He’s the resident pharmacist.”
    “That seems odd,” Harriet noted. “How can they afford to pay their own pharmacist?”
    “Of course, that didn’t