Read Disappearing Nine Patch (A Harriet Truman/Loose Threads Mystery Book 9) for Free Online

auction and dinner.”
    “And now you are going to betray that confidence?” Morse asked.
    “I hadn’t planned on it. I was curious, and I expected it to be someone who was publicity shy, or Molly’s parents, or something like that.”
    Harriet leaned forward in her chair. “So, who is it?”
    Lauren tapped her tablet awake and turned it toward Harriet and Jane. A photo of a large blond man in a plaid button-down shirt and tan chinos filled the screen.
    “And that would be?” Harriet asked.
    Lauren turned the pad back around.
    “None other than Joshua Phillips.”
    “Whoa! Molly’s abusive ex?” Harriet asked.
    “Didn’t I see an order of protection against him at the station?” Morse asked.
    Lauren sat down and slid her tablet into her bag. Harriet leaned back in her chair.
    “I see why you needed to tell someone,” she said.
    “I wonder if he got some kind of special release to attend the event,” Morse said thoughtfully. She pulled a small notebook from her purse and wrote a note. “I’ll see if he has friends in high places who might have helped him out a little.”
    “I thought you should know,” Lauren said.
    “For once I have to agree. I don’t like you guys digging around in police matters, but this time it seems like you found something we would have missed. I’m sure Mr. Phillips was counting on that.”
    Harriet stood up.
    “Want to stay and press seams for us?”
    Morse looked at her watch.
    “I can do that for an hour or so.”
    They carried their tea over to their workstations and began making squares for the quilts.

 

Chapter 5
    In spite of spending the previous night stitching into the wee hours, Harriet got up early to go for a run.
    “You two behave yourselves while I’m gone,” she admonished Fred and Scooter, her cat and his canine protégé. Fred had spent the first few months of Scooter’s presence ignoring the small rescue dog Harriet had adopted, and then graduated to terrorizing him.
    It had been either a show of dominance by the cat or some sort of boot camp because the result had been a recent rash of team mischief. The cat opened cabinet doors and tossed things like protein bars down to the small dog, who then chewed the packages open so they could both eat the contents. She was contemplating the possibility of installing child-proof latches on the cabinets as she stepped outside and onto her driveway to stretch before her run.
    She was touching her toes when she heard the crunch of gravel. She looked up and saw a white late-model sedan approaching. The car stopped, and Molly Baker got out. She was wearing new-looking jeans and a purple hoodie.
    “I hope it’s not too early to come by,” she said.
    “I was about to go running.” Her intention should be obvious from how she was dressed and the fact she’d kept stretching, but she was hoping saying it would encourage Molly to keep it brief.
    Molly came over and stood opposite her.
    “I was talking to my sister last night, and she told me that you’ve solved a number of crimes in this area since you moved here.”
    Harriet was trying to think of an appropriate reply, but Molly held her hands up in a “hear me out” gesture.
    “I know you’re not a detective or anything—DeAnn told me. And she said you only investigated when it was someone you knew and the police were wrongly accusing them or something like that.”
    “That’s all true. I don’t want to be a detective, either. I’m a quilter. On a few occasions, when someone close to me has been threatened, I’ve asked a few questions and talked to a few people.”
    “And it resulted in the right person going to jail,” Molly stated. “That’s all I’m asking. The police say they’ve exhausted all evidence regarding Amber’s disappearance, and they all tell me to be happy I survived and to go out and do something wonderful with that gift.”
    Harriet spread her feet apart and bent to touch her ankle with the opposite hand.
    “That’s not bad