Part 20 (2/2)

”Your mother asked me to get rid of it, tear it up and throw it away.”

”Oh, no!” Vesta and I groaned together. ”But I didn't, of course,” Mildred said, standing a bit straighter. ”I think I must've wondered then if there was a connection between something that happened here and my own mother, and so I kept it.”

”What did Flora say that was so awful?” I asked. ”Can you remember?”

”You don't forget things like that,” Mildred said, looking at both of us in turn. ”She said she hoped that horrible man would burn eternally in h.e.l.l, said she wasn't one bit sorry for what they did, and Lucy shouldn't be, either.”

Vesta picked up a corner of the quilt and looked at it closely, as if she could read something further there. ”Did you ask my mother what it was that they did?”

”Yes, but Lucy evaded the question, said Flora was getting senile, talking nonsense with all that rambling, but I could see the letter bothered her. She must have known she didn't have much longer to live, and I think she might have been having some regrets about what they did. Of course at the time, I had no idea what that was.”

”And we can't be sure about it now, either,” Vesta said.

”What would keep the professor from escaping once he knew the building was on fire? How could they be sure he would die so obligingly?” My grandmother folded her arms.

”The girls have told us how-right here in this quilt.” Mildred directed our attention to the teapot, the tree with yellow flowers. ”Irene said her mother took the professor his afternoon tea tea. It must have been a daily custom. The seeds of the laburnum, or golden chain tree, are toxic. Ingested they cause weakness, drowsiness. I believe they made a brew of them and added it to his tea.”

”So he wouldn't wake up when they set the fire.” Vesta absently fingered the edge of the quilt. ”The man must have been a monster! But why couldn't they go to their parents? Surely somebody- ”Wait a minute. What's this?” She held up a small bulge, covered with a sc.r.a.p of green. ”It feels like something's under here.... Minda, get the scissors!”

I pressed the cloth between my fingers. ”It's just a wad of padding. I hate to ruin an heirloom, even if it is depressing.”

”But look what's covering it,” Mildred pointed out. I looked. ”A leaf. Okay, so-”

”A holly holly leaf,” Mildred said, hurrying to the closet. ”There should be scissors on the second shelf.” leaf,” Mildred said, hurrying to the closet. ”There should be scissors on the second shelf.”

A few minutes later we discovered how the five girls made certain Fitzhugh Holley didn't wake from his drugged sleep and escape. They had locked him in his office, then later sewed the key into the quilt.

”Do you think this has anything to do with what happened to Otto?” I asked Mildred.

”It certainly doesn't put Fitzhugh Holley in a very good light, but then it wouldn't do much for the other families, either-the ones involved in setting the fire. And there's no way to prove it either way.” Mildred frowned. ”The quilt tells a story. I feel it's true, and so, I think, do you, but who would believe it-or even care-after all these years?”

”Gert would, and probably Hugh,” Vesta said. ”Even the suggestion of lewd behavior would knock their sainted granddaddy off his pedestal, but I honestly can't see them killing for it. Illegitimate babies don't seem to be a big deal these days-no offense, Mildred.”

”And none taken.” I was surprised to see Mildred smile. She held out the key, which had been wrapped in cotton batting. ”What do we do with this?”

”Throw it away,” I said, and my grandmother nodded in agreement.

”My motherled me to believe that Annie Rose helped make this quilt,” Vesta said, ”but it's only initialed by the others.” She held a corner of the quilt under the bedside lamp to show the star-flower emblem and the neatly st.i.tched initials of the other five members of the Mystic Six.

”I believe she started out making it with the other girls before things began going wrong,” Mildred said. ”Except for the fire, the rest of the quilt is almost festive, with its winding paths and trees. And look at the main building-there's even a cat curled on the steps. I think it began as a tribute to a place they loved; then when things took a nasty turn, I imagine they put it away.”

”Until Annie Rose drowned-or they thought she drowned,” Vesta said. ”And they took things into their own hands.”

”I wonder whose idea it was to hide the key in the quilt,” I said. When I'd thought of the quilt as holding the key to a secret, I really hadn't meant it literally.

”I can't imagine,” Vesta said, ”but I think I do know who thought of the laburnum tea. It must've been Lucy, my mother. She always liked botany, plants, things like that. Did you know she majored in biology in college?”

I helped the two older women fold the quilt and put it away until they decided what to do with it. I didn't think it would be going on display at Minerva Academy.

And since both Vesta and I were curious to read Flora Dennis's letter to Lucy, the three of us drove to Mildred's. Instead of coming in the back way through Mildred's apartment, I parked in front of the bookshop, where we heard sounds of hammering from inside.

Gatlin met us at the door with a wide grin. The place was a mess, and dust and debris were everywhere. ”Mind where you step,” she said, ”R. T.'s doing his thing.” She paused to introduce us to the tall man banging on the wall with a sledgehammer, and I finally got to meet Maureen Foster's husband.

”Minda's the one who recommended you,” she told him. ”Now I guess I'll have to be nice to her.”

”So when can I expect lunch?” I asked, stepping over a pile of plaster.

”R. T. says May-April if things go right. Of course we'll have to have a new roof, but he gave me a fair price.” Gatlin gave me a shove and grabbed the others by an arm. ”Come in the back office where we can breathe. It's awfully dusty in here.”

I had noticed that R. T. wore a mask to screen out the dust. ”Actually, we were headed for Mildred's,” I said. ”Just wanted to see what was going on.”

”So has everybody else. I think you're the third group to drop by this morning. Hugh was here earlier and Irene Bradshaw just left-came to tell me Sylvie Smith's out of intensive care now.”

”That's wonderful!” I said. ”Is she out of her coma? Can she remember anything?”

”They say she's come around, but didn't get a chance to look at the person who hit her. When she's a little stronger, Minda, you should pay her a visit. Bet she'd be glad to see you. If it hadn't been for you, Sylvie might not be around.”

”It was just luck,” I said. It wasn't, but how could I explain a bossy angel?

While we were talking, Mildred had slipped through the connecting door to her small apartment, and now she reappeared with a look on her face that scared even me.

”It's gone,” Mildred announced, doling dagger looks equally among us.

”What's gone?” Gatlin asked.

”My zebra. Otto's zebra. It's where I keep...Oh never mind! But I need it. There are things in there, important things.”

Vesta frowned. ”The letter?”

”Yes, the letter. Why would anybody take that old stuffed zebra?” Mildred wailed. ”It doesn't mean a thing to anyone but me.”

”Oh, dear. I'm afraid it does to Faye.” Gatlin clutched my hand-for support, I guess. ”She was here with me before school this morning; I had to let R. T. in, and she needed to use the bathroom-you know how Faye is, and they had cut off the water in the bookshop, so I let her use yours.

”I saw her playing with the zebra as we were getting ready to leave for school. She said Tigger needed a playmate, but I told her to put it back.”

Gatlin smiled. Mildred didn't. ”Mildred, honestly, I'm so sorry. I thought she'd put it back where it belonged.”

”Maybe she misplaced it,” Vesta said. ”Let's look around and see if we can find it. I expect Faye just dropped it somewhere.”

But the old stuffed animal containing Flora Dennis's condemning letter wasn't in Mildred's tiny apartment.

”She must have taken it to school with her,” Gatlin said, now close to tears. ”I was in a hurry and didn't pay close attention, just a.s.sumed it was Tigger.”

”It's all right,” Mildred said, although I could tell by her face it wasn't. ”I'm sure it will be fine with Faye at school, and you can drop it off when you pick her up from kindergarten after lunch.”

But a few minutes before Gatlin planned to leave to collect her daughter, the school called to tell her Faye had disappeared from the playground.

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