Harriet took the plastic wrap off a plate of brownies Aunt Beth had brought. She took out three and put them on paper towels she pulled from the dispenser attached to the underside of the cabinet next to the sink. She handed the first one to Aunt Beth and another to Aiden and brought the last one back to her place at the table.

"I thought we needed some chocolate,” she said and sat down.

The trio ate in silence.

"I wish I could think of something else to do,” Harriet said when her brownie was gone; she began shredding her paper towel, pulling off little pieces and rolling them into balls she then lined up in a neat row.

"Me, too,” Aiden said, and leaned back in his chair. “I have to work in the morning, but I took time off to go to the funeral."

"Let's hope Carla's back by then,” Aunt Beth said. “In the meanwhile, you, young lady, need to go home and get some rest. And you, too,” she told Aiden. “I'm going to go check the baby.” She got up and crumpled her paper towel, dropping it in the kitchen wastebasket before going upstairs.

Harriet stood, and Aiden stood with her.

"Come here,” he said, and pulled her into his arms. She leaned against his chest, and he rested his chin on her head.

"I don't know what I'm going to do if something's happened to Carla,” he said.

Harriet willed her muscles not to tense.

"This house was just starting to feel like a home again. And I can't even think about what will happen to that baby upstairs."

"Let's not go there,” she said, and pushed back so she could look into his pale eyes. “We'll find her. Carla's tough. She's survived some pretty hard stuff already. She was the one who led us out of the burning building when we were locked in at quilt camp. She'll figure out a way to get back to her daughter."

"I should have protected her from Terry. You tried to tell me he was bad news."

"I don't think that's exactly what I said. Besides, Carla is a big girl. She can decide who she sees. And we don't know that Terry did anything. Let's not forget that he disappeared first."

"I hate this,” he said and pulled her back to him. He cupped her face in his hands and gently kissed her. “You better go. I don't want you to, but you need your rest."

Harriet knew he wouldn't sleep. She also knew that, short of finding Carla, nothing she could do or say would make a difference.

She was almost out the door when she remembered she hadn't driven.

"Let me tell Beth I'm leaving, and I'll take you home,” he said.

"How about you tell her I'll pick her up at ten, and I'll take her car."

"That's fine,” Beth said from the stairs. “I was just coming down for a second brownie."

She might fool Aiden, but Harriet knew her aunt was making sure she went home and got some rest. She took Beth's car keys from the kitchen counter and went out the door.

Fred exhibited his uncanny ability to wake Harriet before her alarm went off. If she didn't set her alarm, he had his own idea about when she should get up; but if it was on, he would start bothering her fifteen minutes before whatever time she set.

"Would you go away, please,” she said, and pushed him to the end of her bed. “I had just finally gotten to sleep."

It had been a restless night. She'd fallen asleep sometime after three. Fred didn't care. She pulled the sheet over her head, and he started pouncing, using just enough claw pressure to ensure she couldn't fall back to sleep.

"Okay, you win,” she said, and threw the covers back awkwardly with her good arm.

Gerald's funeral was scheduled to begin at eleven. She had two hours before she needed to pick up Beth. She went downstairs, fed Fred and poured herself a bowl of cereal. There were no signs of life from the Willis boys. She wasn't sure if they were still sleeping or had gone out for an early breakfast.

She picked up her cell phone and could see the telephone icon indicating she had a message. She set the phone on the counter and pressed the buttons to play the message on speaker phone.

"I had to pull in a few favors, but a couple of people are searching real-time satellite photos for Carla's car. Unless they get lucky, it's going to take some time.” The message ended as abruptly as it had started. If her associates came through, Harriet decided she could forgive Lauren's brusqueness.

"At least that's something, Fred,” she said. Fred lifted his fuzzy face from his dish of kibbles but didn't say anything.

She chose the black pants from her three-piece suit and a charcoal gray sleeveless blouse for her funeral outfit. After showering and dressing, she refilled Fred's bowl then went into her studio to check her stitching schedule to be sure she wasn't expecting anyone to drop off a project while she was at the church. Her next quilt wouldn't be coming until Monday, which was a relief.

Juggling a purse when one arm was strapped to your side was harder than it looked. She pulled her license, debit card, car keys and cell phone from hers and put them in her pants pockets. In a last-minute move, she picked up the black mystery square and slid it into her back pants pocket. Aunt Beth would probably chide her for the bulges, but it couldn't be helped. She took a last look around the kitchen and headed to Aiden's house.

Aunt Beth had a cup of tea steeping for her when she walked into the kitchen. “I heard you coming up the drive,” she explained. “Aiden paced all night while Wendy slept like a log. Poor little thing,” she added, and looked at the little girl, who was chasing Cheerios around the tray on her high chair. “She has no idea what's going on."

Beth was wearing black jersey pants and a black tone-on-tone blouse. Wendy was dressed in a pink sundress. Beth wet a washcloth at the sink and wiped the child's face and hands.

"I think we're about ready to go,” she said. She looked out the window at the driveway. “Oh, good thinking-you brought your own car. It will be easier to put the carseat in yours."

Harriet hadn't thought about it at all. It just never occurred to her to drive her aunt's car again. Beth was right, though. The seat was difficult to install in the middle row of seats in Harriet's Honda SUV. It would have been impossible in the tiny back seat of the Beetle.

The carseat finally settled in, and Aunt Beth lifted Wendy into it, carefully buckling the maze of straps.

"Gosh, you just about need a trade school degree to operate one of those things,” Harriet commented.

"Tell me about it,” she said. When you were small your carseat was little more than a booster seat and a lap belt."

They carefully avoided mentioning Carla, or their concerns for her whereabouts while her daughter was in the car, even if she was too young to understand.

Connie and Robin were waiting on the steps to the Methodist Church when Harriet guided her car into the parking lot.

"DeAnn's inside finding us an empty room,” Robin said as they approached.

"I'm going to take the little one here to the kitchen to meet up with her minder,” Beth said. “I'll meet you back here."

"Have you heard anything?” Harriet asked Lauren, when she, too, joined the group.

"Thanks for broadcasting,” Lauren said. “I'm sure my friend at NOAA will appreciate everyone knowing what she's doing for us.” She was dressed in black twill pants and a silk khaki tank top. A black-and-tan silk scarf was draped artfully around her neck and onto her shoulders.

"Sorry,” Harriet replied. “But have you heard anything?"

"Don't you think I'd say something if I'd heard any news?” Lauren turned her back on Harriet.

"I was just asking,” she said as Lauren retreated.

"Okay, we can meet in the preschool classroom,” DeAnn announced a few minutes later. Aunt Beth had returned, and Jenny and Sarah arrived.