Connie unfurled the fitted sheet and stretched it onto the mattress. Harriet picked up the flat top sheet and helped her finish making the bed.
"They must have done this while we were in the dining cabin,” Mavis decided.
"Wait-I thought you said you'd been here all night,” Harriet said.
"I thought you meant here at the Folk Art Center. We went to dinner at six-thirty and got back around seven-thirty."
"Unfortunately, who ever it was had plenty of time to search,” Connie said. “You know, now that I recall, when we came in the magazines from the coffee table were on the floor. I didn't think anything of it. It was a little bit windy when we came back from dinner, and I assumed a gust of wind blew in when I opened the front door and blew them off."
"So, someone is looking for something, but what is it?” Mavis wondered.
"I don't know. Where are the others? I wouldn't put it past Lauren to leave my room like that if she was looking for something."
"Oh, honey, Lauren wouldn't do that, and you know it,” Mavis scolded.
"I wouldn't put it past her,” Harriet repeated. “She's pretty insistent about me owing her."
"Robin and Carla were going to go look at the photography exhibit, and then they were going to see if they could help Lauren. She has to pull together another piece of her work to fill the space her missing quilt occupied. She had done samples of the various techniques she used in her final piece, so they were going to try to mount several of them on a piece of poster board. She said she doesn't have another piece as big as the one that's missing that fits the theme. Sarah met someone at the pottery exhibit the other night, and she went to dinner in town with them.” Connie left the room as she continued, “I'll go put the kettle on, and we can have a cup of tea and see if we can make sense out of this."
"Come on, honey,” Mavis said, and put her arm abound Harriet's shoulders and gave her a little squeeze. “You've had a rough day. Have you had anything to eat yet? Let me fix you a snack, and then we can put our heads together and figure this thing out."
They followed Connie down the stairs.
"Go ahead,” Harriet told Mavis and went to get the phone. “I'm calling the office to report the vandalism in my room."
"They didn't seem overly interested,” Harriet reported when she'd finished her call. Connie had brought out a tray with a steaming pot of tea and a plate with saltines and small slabs of cheddar cheese on it. She sat the tray on the table then handed Harriet the snack plate.
"I agree with Beth.” Mavis picked up her copy of the quilt picture. “It looks a lot like Lauren's."
"What we need is a picture of Lauren's,” Harriet said and set her now-empty plate back on the table. She was about to pull her copy of the picture from her pocket when she heard a soft tap followed by the Tree House door opening.
"Hello?” called Patience.
"In here,” Connie replied, and got up to meet the new arrival.
"I heard Nancy leaving a message for Tom. She said someone's room in the Tree House was ransacked. I wanted to stop by and make sure everything was okay."
Connie poured her a cup of peppermint tea. “Here,” she said, “sit down and we'll fill you in."
Mavis looked at Harriet, and when the younger woman remained silent, she gave Patience a quick account of the event.
Patience was silent for a moment.
"And nothing was missing?” she finally asked.
"I don't have that much here,” Harriet said. “I haven't combed through my sewing bag, but my hoop and scissors and ruler and all the big stuff is there. My clothes, my purse and ID are all here. I really don't have anything here worth taking. My cell phone was in my pocket. It makes no sense.” She looked at Patience. It was clear the woman was trying to decide whether to say something.
"What? If you know something, say it."
"I don't know if this means anything. I mean, you ladies would know better than I."
"Patience,” Mavis said in a firm voice. “Take a deep breath, and then just tell us what you know, or suspect, or whatever."
Patience did as instructed. “Everyone here has heard Lauren say that Harriet owes her. The teachers have been speculating what Harriet could have done to get in debt to Lauren.” She pulled her ever-present crumpled tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her nose.
Harriet looked at Mavis with an “I told you so,” expression on her face.
"That's not Lauren's style,” Mavis protested. “Think about it. When have you ever known Lauren to be sneaky? She's an in-your-face kind of gal. If she thought you had something of hers, she'd demand you give it back.” She sat back.
"I hate to say it, but I have to agree,” Harriet conceded.
"So, that leaves us back at the beginning,” Connie said.
Patience stashed her tissue in her sleeve and drank her tea. She asked polite questions about Connie's applique and Mavis's hand piecing.
"Would you like a refill?” Connie asked and pointed at the green mug.
"No, I need to go back to my cottage and review my class notes. I'll be teaching in Selestina's place. Not that anyone can really take her place, but the students have paid and the material must be presented.” She looked like she had the weight of the world on her thin shoulders. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything."
"Thank you,” Harriet said. “As you can see, I'm fine."
Patience set her hand on the door latch, and then stopped and looked back at the three women. “I did call the handyman and asked if he could drive around the grounds and watch for any suspicious activity.” She left without waiting for any comment.
"So, what's that supposed to do?” Harriet asked. “No one needs to break in around here-nothing's locked. And we know the handyman doesn't live on the property. And everyone knows who he is. It would be pretty easy to avoid detection."
"What'd I miss?” Darcy asked before anyone could respond. She'd come in the door as Patience went out. She looked around. “What did Patience want?"
"She was just checking on us,” Mavis said. “We were just about to look at Beth's pictures when she arrived."
Connie and Harriet picked up their copies and resumed their study of the images.
"It's hard to come to any conclusion without having pictures of both, side by side."
"Let me see,” Darcy said, and took Mavis's copy. She turned it sideways and then upside down. She held it at arm's length and then propped it on the twig rocker and stepped back to look at it.
"What do you see?” Mavis asked.
"See the curved lines of stitching?"
"The ones that look sort of like topographical lines on a map,” Connie asked.
"Yeah, only they're not topo lines. They're the ridge lines of a fingerprint. A thumbprint, to be exact."
"I could have told you that,” Lauren said. Everyone turned as she joined the group. Robin and Carla went upstairs without saying anything. Harriet didn't blame them; they'd probably had their fill of Lauren.
"Why didn't you tell us that to begin with?” Harriet demanded.
"What difference would it make? I told you I made my quilt from scratch. What else do you need to know?"
"Now, honey,” Mavis said. “If you want Harriet here to restore your reputation and help you find your lost quilt, you're going to need to cooperate just a little."
"What else does she need to know?” Lauren asked. Harriet could see she was truly perplexed. She really did live in another world.
"I'm not sure what else you can tell us, but let me take your fingerprint, and we can get the lady in the office to make an enlargement of it. Then we'll sort-of have proof that your quilt is the original. I mean, if this were a real criminal case, they would say Lauren's fingerprint could have been captured off any number of public surfaces and then used. But that would be bizarre."
"So, let's assume you take the print, we make a copy, we all swear that Lauren's print matches the shape on her quilt, and it's more detailed than what could be accounted for by random chance.” Harriet paced as she spoke then turned to face the group. “What difference does it make?"