A Quilt in Time (A Harriet Turman/Loose Threads Mystery) (8 page)

“At least we know he exists,” Harriet said. “Not that there was any real doubt, given the beating she’s taken.”

Lauren returned from the kitchen.

“Nothing special in there, unless you consider that somebody eats a lot healthier than Sarah. There’s soy milk in the fridge along with tofu and a lot of kale.”

“Judging from his toiletries, our mystery man has short, straight black hair, and covers his acne with flesh-colored concealer. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary,” Aunt Beth said as she came back out of the bathroom. She had a small zippered mesh bag containing several bottles of vitamins and other over-the-counter remedies in one hand and a hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. “Has anyone found any sort of makeup bag I can put this stuff into?”

“Can anyone think of anything else we should look at before we take this stuff back to the hospital?” Harriet asked. She stretched her hand out to her aunt. “Let me put those into the bag with her clothes.”

“I can’t think of anything,” Connie said.

No one else could think of anything, either, so they locked the cottage back up and returned to the hospital.

“I’m going to take this as a sign you’re feeling better,” Harriet said to her little rescue dog Scooter as she rewound the roll of toilet paper he had spread all over the floor of the half-bath off her kitchen. “You, however…” She turned to her gray cat Fred. “…are in trouble. Don’t think I don’t know who jumped up and jiggled the latch free so he could get in. I double-checked that door, and it was shut before we went to bed last night. Don’t even try to suggest it was a ghost.”

“Have you finally gone around the bend?” Lauren asked as she came in from the studio. “I knocked on the door before I came in, but no one answered. Now I can see why—you were busy talking to yourself.”

“I wasn’t talking to myself, I was talking to these two clowns.” Harriet turned around. Her dog and cat were nowhere to be seen.” She sighed. “I suppose you never talk to Carter?”

“Of course I talk to my dog. Only he’s in the room with me when I do it.”

“They were right here.”

“Sure they were. You know, if you put a basket or box with a lid on the back of the toilet you can put the toilet paper in it and avoid this problem.”

“Scooter hasn’t been well enough to get into trouble until the last few days. The wound on his back is finally healed.”

“Not to change the subject, but did you connect with Georgia and did she have time to see us this morning?”

“She’s meeting us at the Steaming Cup in an hour.”

Lauren looked at her watch then stared into space, thinking.

“That should work,” she said after a moment. “I’ve got a client call this afternoon, but if we don’t spend hours at the shelter, it should be good.”

“Aunt Beth is going to the hospital to check on Sarah and then meet Connie at the senior home. Connie has some of the adult bibs to drop off, but that’s just an excuse to see what they can find out from Sarah’s family.”

“Let’s get this show on the road, then. I’d like to have my coffee before Georgia gets there. She didn’t strike me as the ‘relax and have a cup’ type.”

“You two behave,” Harriet told her pets and grabbed her coat and purse from the closet by the back door. “I’ll drive.”

“Everyone here appreciates what your group is doing for the shelter,” Georgia said when she’d locked the kitchen door of the shelter behind them.

Harriet pulled a measuring tape, a small notebook, and a pencil from her purse.

“It’s our pleasure. I wish we could do more.”

“Brightening this place up is huge. Anything and everything we can do to restore their sense of self-worth is one more step on the path to a normal life. Most of the women have been systematically torn down, mentally as well as physically. Feeling they deserve a nice place to live is one more piece of the puzzle.”

“We’re happy to help,” Harriet told her. “I’m sure having their pets with them will be a big help, too.”

“We can’t even begin to thank Dr. Jalbert for supporting the pet annex. We’ve been talking to him about us taking in a few rescue dogs to keep here permanently as therapy for some of the women and children who don’t have pets of their own.”

“Are all the bathroom windows the same size?” Lauren asked before Harriet could respond to Georgia’s last comment.

“Unfortunately, no. Our house design is a delicate balance between our security issues and the building code requirements for the number and size of windows. Let’s start down here and work our way up to the attic.”

“Can I ask you something?” Harriet said to Georgia when she and Lauren had measured their way up to the top of the house.

“About time,” Lauren mumbled so only Harriet could hear her and covering the words with a cough.

“Let me guess—you know someone you suspect is being battered.”

“You get that a lot?”

“It’s a sad fact that virtually everyone knows someone who is if not battered then at least bullied.”

“You’re right,” Harriet conceded as she measured a long narrow window. “She’s one of our quilt group members. She has been withdrawn from our group for months, and last night she resurfaced in the hospital, badly beaten. So far, she’s unwilling to bring charges against the man.”

“That’s fairly common,” Georgia said. “Are you hoping she’ll come here?”

“Am I that transparent?”

“No. Well, okay, yes, but it’s not a bad thing. Your friend is lucky to have people who care about her. Plenty of women let good friends and even relatives be cut away from them by an abusive boyfriend or spouse, and those friends and relatives don’t ask a single question. So, don’t apologize to me for caring.”

“We’ve approached her about moving to a shelter, and she said she’d think about it.”

“She’s going to have to do more than think about it,” Georgia said. “We can provide all the support she needs, but she has to be the one to make the break from her abuser.”

“Say she agrees,” Lauren said. “What are the steps in getting her from the hospital or her home to here?”

“It’s reasonably simple. Once she decides it’s a go, she can meet us at a safe location we maintain away from here, and we begin the intake process. She’ll need to fill out some paperwork. We’ll run a criminal background check, do an internet search on her name and call her references.”

Harriet made a quick sketch on her notepad then closed it and put it in her purse. She turned to Georgia.

“Is all that necessary?”

“Unfortunately, it is. Abusers will go to great lengths to find the women they batter, including trying to send other women they can control to the shelter so they can discover our location.”

“That’s sick,” Lauren said.

Georgia laughed. “That’s not the half of it. We’ve caught two journalists trying to get in to do undercover stories on us. We’ve also had half a dozen women running from arrest warrants.”

“I suppose you get homeless women looking for a free bed,” Lauren commented.

“You’re getting the idea. We get at least one or two of those a month.”

“Back to our friend,” Harriet said. “She’ll pass all those checks, so then what?”

“After the checks, one of our staff will do an in-person interview, again at that same safe location. If both we and your friend still think it’s a good idea for her to live with us, we arrange to move her in. Depending on the circumstances, that can all happen relatively quickly.

“We usually have the woman stay at a safe house—that location changes monthly—for a few days to make sure she’s going to stick. That way, if her abuser is really tenacious, he’ll find her there, where fewer people are in jeopardy, instead of here.”

“Hopefully, we can talk her into taking the first step,” Harriet said.

“It’s important that you understand she has to make this decision on her own. What she needs from you is support, not judgment. She’s already getting plenty of that at home.”

“Thank you for answering our questions,” Harriet said. “I think we’ve got what we need for the windows.”

“I’ll take you back to your car. And I hope for your friend’s sake she makes the decision sooner rather than later.”

Harriet and Lauren spent the remainder of their time with Georgia identifying needs the shelter had and discussing how they might be met.

“I can’t promise anything,” Lauren said as they stood beside Georgia’s gray sedan. “But this is the sort of project one of my clients likes. I’m pretty sure they’d be willing to donate computers and software your women could use to take online classes and job training.”

Georgia handed them several business cards.

“The first one is for business contact. If people want to make donations, have them call this number. The second one is for your friend. It’s our emergency number. Someone answers this phone twenty-four-seven. Someone is on call to pick up victims, if that’s what’s required, in less than an hour.”

Harriet took the cards.

“Thank you. With a bit of luck, you’ll hear from our friend. And for sure, you will hear from us regarding donations.”

“What she said,” Lauren echoed.

“Thank
you
,” Georgia said. “Talk to you soon.” She got into her car and drove out of the Steaming Cup parking lot.

Lauren’s phone trilled, immediately followed by a similar sound from Harriet’s. Lauren tapped in a security code.

“Looks like we have a summit meeting at Tico’s.”

Harriet glanced at her own unsecured phone screen. Aunt Beth had texted her, requesting she come to Jorge’s restaurant as soon as they were finished.