The fourth book in the Harriet Truman / Loose Threads Mystery series, 2010

OIt looks hideous,” Harriet Truman stated. She pushed her chair back from the table and stood up. “Anyone else need a refill?” She held up her empty mug and looked at each of her fellow Loose Threads in turn. Several raised their cups, and Harriet took them, cradling her own in her elbow.

"I'll help,” Robin McLeod said. She picked up the mugs of the two women on either side of her and joined Harriet in the small kitchen of Pins and Needles, Foggy Point, Washington's, best and only quilt store.

Harriet filled the large electric kettle and turned it on. Robin did the same with the coffeemaker then proceeded to execute a painful-looking yoga maneuver. She inhaled deeply then slowly let her breath out.

"I don't think more tea is going to help,” Harriet said as she dropped fresh tea bags into the mugs. “But staring at those blocks isn't getting us anywhere."

When the drinks were ready, they returned to the women seated around a large table in the bigger of the two classrooms at the back of Pins and Needles. Having distributed the hot beverages, they returned to their own seats.

The Loose Threads quilt group had turned the interior wall of the classroom into a makeshift design wall by tacking a large flannel-lined plastic tablecloth, flannel side out, onto it. Assorted quilt blocks were arranged on the flannel, and they studied the resulting pattern as they sipped their tea.

"I'll say it if no one else will,” Connie Escorcia said. She stood to emphasize her point, an effect lost thanks to her less than five feet of height. “This is a disaster. Our quilt blocks all look great by themselves, but together?” She broke into rapid-fire Spanish that even Harriet, who was fluent in seven languages, couldn't follow.