"You're sure you don't know anything else about Rodney Miller or Neelie Obote?"
"If we did, I'd tell you,” Aunt Beth said.
"What happened to the baby?” Morse asked.
"Which one?” Mavis asked, and offered the cream and sugar to each person in turn.
"The one Neelie brought to town."
"She's in foster care,” Aunt Beth said. None of the women felt inclined to identify Connie as the foster mother.
"Two people who know each other come to Foggy Point and die within days of each other, you have to believe there's a connection,” Morse said thoughtfully.
"Rodney told anyone who would listen he was Neelie's grieving husband,” Harriet said.
"That's great, except there's no legal proof the marriage existed,” Morse said. “And believe me, we've checked. If they were married, they didn't file a license in this country."
"Is it possible the Neelie-and-Rodney story is simply one of domestic violence?” Aunt Beth asked. She picked up her cup and sipped. “She and the baby were trying to escape, and he followed them here. He kills her, and someone sees him do it, and that someone else kills him in retaliation."
"Anything's possible,” Morse said. “But, believe it or not, most people who witness a murder actually call the police."
"Is that it?” Harriet asked.
Detective Morse raised her left eyebrow.
"If you're done with your questions, I have a few of my own."
"I can't guarantee I can answer, but if I can…” She trailed off with a sigh.
"Okay, first, I'd like to know if you know what was used to hit me."
"A blunt object?” Morse offered.
This time both Mavis and Aunt Beth glared at the detective.
"Okay, okay, I suppose it can't hurt to tell you we think you were hit with a baseball bat. You can thank your friend Darcy Lewis for that.” Morse referred to the pixie-faced criminalist who also was a part-time Loose Thread member. “She was the one who found the bat in the garage behind the house. It was leaning against a set of golf clubs along the back wall. Darcy noticed that the clubs, the workbench and virtually everything else in that bay of the garage was coated with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs."
"Everything except the bat,” Mavis finished for the detective.
"Exactly.” Morse picked up her cup and took a long drink.
"I don't suppose there were any prints on the bat,” Harriet asked.
"It obviously had been wiped down, but Darcy got a partial print off the end.” Morse didn't look hopeful.
"That's good, isn't it?” Harriet asked.
"It looks like it's a child's print.” Morse said.
"A kid hit me?"
"Probably not,” Morse said. “The print most likely belongs to the actual owner of the bat. If we could identify the kid, it might give us a circle of adults with access to look at, but unfortunately, there isn't a huge database of children's fingerprints to compare it to."
"I thought the grade school did a big drive to collect all the children's fingerprints to use in case of child abductions,” Mavis said.
"Unfortunately, not all fingerprints are created equal. If they aren't taken by someone the forensic lab has trained, they often are unusable-smeared or flattened beyond recognition."
"That's too bad,” Aunt Beth said. “I suppose almost anyone could have wielded a bat. I mean, any household that has or has had children in it is likely to have a bat and ball."
"You begin to see the scope of our problem."
"Have you been able to verify the identification of Neelie or Rodney?” Harriet asked.
"No. We've interviewed quite a few people, and no one has known anything other than that two people we have in the morgue used the names Neelie Obote and Rodney Miller."
"This is all making my head hurt,” Harriet said, and leaned that head against the back of her chair. She closed her eyes for just a moment.
Chapter 33
It was dark when Harriet woke with a start. She was still sitting in the gray chair, but she was alone in the room, and she'd been covered with a plaid flannel log cabin lap quilt. Fred rose up from his spot next to her left thigh and meowed.
"Where is everyone?” Harriet asked her cat. He meowed again.
"I'm coming,” said a disembodied voice from a small white speaker on the pie-crust table. A moment later, Aunt Beth appeared, carrying a glass of water in one hand and a white capsule cupped in the other.
"Here,” she said and handed the pain pill and then the water to her niece. “How are you feeling?"
"I know I just woke up, but I'm still sleepy. How long was I out? Is Detective Morse gone?"
"A couple of hours, and yes, the good detective left not long after you fell asleep. She didn't ask anything else, and we didn't offer up anything, either. And you needed the rest. We left you in here with the baby monitor so you could have some peace and quiet."
"We had an idea about our quilting,” Mavis said as she, too, came back into the studio from the kitchen. She was carrying a small plate of triple chocolate cookies and a fresh cup of tea for Harriet. “We were thinking maybe we could change up who was working on what."
"What do you mean” Harriet asked.
"We're getting to crunch time for the auction quilts,” Mavis started.
"And I'm going to be running the long arm machine,” Beth added.
"You aren't going to be able to sit at your sewing machine for a few days,” Mavis continued. “So, we thought I could sew your tumbling blocks together on the sewing machine, and if you can, we thought you could work on appliquéing the dog-bone wreath block I'm supposed to do. My block is more than half-done, so it won't take much to finish it."
"You can start on that first thing tomorrow,” Aunt Beth interrupted. We're going to stitch a little more, but Aiden brought you a couple of movies and we thought you could watch them upstairs. We moved the television into your bedroom so you could keep your foot up."
"Aiden was here?” Harriet said. “Wait, you moved my TV?"
"Well, you can't watch in your TV room,” Mavis explained. “You'd have to prop your foot on the table. You're using your ottoman down here."
"How could I forget? Is there anything else you've done on my behalf I should know about?"
"Well, we did ask Aiden to bring us all burritos from Tico's,” Aunt Beth confessed.
"That part's good. About the quilt project, don't forget I'm supposed to be appliquéing a dog-bone wreath block, too."
"I think you can hold off till tomorrow and still have time to finish all the appliqué,” Aunt Beth said.
Any further argument on the topic ended when the doorbells tinkled and Aiden came in carrying two large white paper bags from Tico's Tacos.
"Jorge sent you your own carton of guacamole and a bag of chips that are still warm from the fryer,” he told Harriet. “He also sent some of his special soup that he says is guaranteed to cure your kidney.” He set the bags on the big work table and crossed the room to lean down and kiss her. “How are you feeling?"
"I've been better, but the sleep and pain meds are helping."
Beth and Mavis picked up the two bags and carried them into the kitchen.
"You need to take it easy for a while,” Aiden said. “These should help.” He held up two red envelopes Harriet recognized as DVD movie mailers. “Guaranteed to make you cry."
"I take it you're not staying to watch,” she said, knowing how much he hated watching chick flicks with her.
"I wish I could, but after dinner I've got to go back to work. A small group of patients are well enough to be neutered, which is one of the hurdles they have to get over to move toward adoption."
"That's so sad,” Harriet said. “It seems like all they've known in their lives is pain, and now, in order to help them, you have to cause them more pain."
"I try not to think of it in those terms,” Aiden said. “And we will provide anesthesia and pain medication."