over?”
I nodded. “Yesterday.”
“So it’s all still fresh in your mind. No wonder you’re upset with me. You poor girl. You’re grieving.”
“I’m not grieving for Mama. I got over that one a long time ago. I’m angry with you for betraying Gram. And that’s the last I’m going to say about it until we get to Haven Harbor.”
Thankfully, he shut up.
There was more traffic than I’d imagined, but I parked in front of our house right on time. I couldn’t pull into the driveway. Three cars were already there. Looked like we weren’t the only ones coming to see Gram. Jacques picked up the order forms and reached for the door handle. I reached for my gun.
“Before you go into that house,” I said, carefully aiming the gun at him, “I want you to know I’ll be watching and listening to everything that goes on. And I can use this. I don’t want you to lie or give excuses. Just say what you have to say, give those orders to Gram, and then I’ll take you back to Rome.”
“You’d shoot me?” he asked incredulously.
“I’d shoot you,” I confirmed. “So get going.”
He got out and walked unsteadily up the path to our front door. I followed him closely. My gun was back in my holster. But both of us knew it was there.
Chapter Fifteen
Every little thread must take its place as warp or woof, and keep in it steadily. Left to itself, it would be only a loose, useless filament.... Yet each little thread must be as firmly spun as if it were the only one, or the result would be a worthless fabric.
—Lucy Larcom, A New England Girlhood, 1889
The cars in the driveway had been a clue. Gram’s living room/office was full. Clearly, she’d gotten on the phone after I’d called and summoned the Mainely Needlepointers. Haven Harbor was a small town. It hadn’t taken long.
Some had even brought refreshments. I saw a teapot, two plates of cookies, a box of doughnut holes from Dunkin’ Donuts, and a platter of scones.
I grinned as I saw the looks on their faces. Jacques stopped at the door. I might be the only one with a gun, but this was a tough crowd. If looks could have killed, he wouldn’t have gotten past the threshold.
In case Lattimore didn’t remember them, I made the introductions: Sarah Byrne. Dave Percy. Katie Titicomb. Lauren Decker. Ob Winslow. Even Ruth Hopkins was there, stroking Juno, who’d found a cozy place on her lap.
“I found Jacques at the Cambridge Casino. The bad news is, you haven’t been paid because he doesn’t have your money. He lost it.”
I had a rapt audience. Like a wolf pack, ready to spring. You don’t fool with Mainers.
“But there is some good news. He had a bit over six thousand dollars.” I handed the money to Gram, minus the two-fifty I’d promised to give back to Jacques. “He’s also agreed to give you the sales slips and records from the sales you’ve made through him.” I looked at Jacques. “Give the lady the paperwork.” He handed it to Gram. “Now you should have the names of the customers you were working for. You’ll be able to deliver any completed needlework and, I hope, get paid for that, without Jacques’ commission. He’s agreed he’s out of the needlepoint business.” I shot a look at him. “Permanently. So, Jacques, you tell these good people you’re sorry, and answer any questions they have. I’ll be in the next room.” I picked up a molasses cookie and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t a needlepointer. The rest was up to them.
Jacques wouldn’t get far without a car, even if he ran. I felt safe leaving him to the wolves.
I made a bathroom stop and then poured myself a cup of tea. Tonight I’d bring in the new coffeemaker and get it humming. Tea would be fine for now. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.
I couldn’t understand every word coming from the living room, but the tones weren’t calm. Then the hum of conversation continued, but lower. I wondered how long to leave them there. It was
I nodded. “Yesterday.”
“So it’s all still fresh in your mind. No wonder you’re upset with me. You poor girl. You’re grieving.”
“I’m not grieving for Mama. I got over that one a long time ago. I’m angry with you for betraying Gram. And that’s the last I’m going to say about it until we get to Haven Harbor.”
Thankfully, he shut up.
There was more traffic than I’d imagined, but I parked in front of our house right on time. I couldn’t pull into the driveway. Three cars were already there. Looked like we weren’t the only ones coming to see Gram. Jacques picked up the order forms and reached for the door handle. I reached for my gun.
“Before you go into that house,” I said, carefully aiming the gun at him, “I want you to know I’ll be watching and listening to everything that goes on. And I can use this. I don’t want you to lie or give excuses. Just say what you have to say, give those orders to Gram, and then I’ll take you back to Rome.”
“You’d shoot me?” he asked incredulously.
“I’d shoot you,” I confirmed. “So get going.”
He got out and walked unsteadily up the path to our front door. I followed him closely. My gun was back in my holster. But both of us knew it was there.
Chapter Fifteen
Every little thread must take its place as warp or woof, and keep in it steadily. Left to itself, it would be only a loose, useless filament.... Yet each little thread must be as firmly spun as if it were the only one, or the result would be a worthless fabric.
—Lucy Larcom, A New England Girlhood, 1889
The cars in the driveway had been a clue. Gram’s living room/office was full. Clearly, she’d gotten on the phone after I’d called and summoned the Mainely Needlepointers. Haven Harbor was a small town. It hadn’t taken long.
Some had even brought refreshments. I saw a teapot, two plates of cookies, a box of doughnut holes from Dunkin’ Donuts, and a platter of scones.
I grinned as I saw the looks on their faces. Jacques stopped at the door. I might be the only one with a gun, but this was a tough crowd. If looks could have killed, he wouldn’t have gotten past the threshold.
In case Lattimore didn’t remember them, I made the introductions: Sarah Byrne. Dave Percy. Katie Titicomb. Lauren Decker. Ob Winslow. Even Ruth Hopkins was there, stroking Juno, who’d found a cozy place on her lap.
“I found Jacques at the Cambridge Casino. The bad news is, you haven’t been paid because he doesn’t have your money. He lost it.”
I had a rapt audience. Like a wolf pack, ready to spring. You don’t fool with Mainers.
“But there is some good news. He had a bit over six thousand dollars.” I handed the money to Gram, minus the two-fifty I’d promised to give back to Jacques. “He’s also agreed to give you the sales slips and records from the sales you’ve made through him.” I looked at Jacques. “Give the lady the paperwork.” He handed it to Gram. “Now you should have the names of the customers you were working for. You’ll be able to deliver any completed needlework and, I hope, get paid for that, without Jacques’ commission. He’s agreed he’s out of the needlepoint business.” I shot a look at him. “Permanently. So, Jacques, you tell these good people you’re sorry, and answer any questions they have. I’ll be in the next room.” I picked up a molasses cookie and headed for the kitchen. I wasn’t a needlepointer. The rest was up to them.
Jacques wouldn’t get far without a car, even if he ran. I felt safe leaving him to the wolves.
I made a bathroom stop and then poured myself a cup of tea. Tonight I’d bring in the new coffeemaker and get it humming. Tea would be fine for now. I took a few deep breaths and tried to relax.
I couldn’t understand every word coming from the living room, but the tones weren’t calm. Then the hum of conversation continued, but lower. I wondered how long to leave them there. It was
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