A Dark and Stormy Knit (Black Sheep Knitting Mystery) (14 page)

“What happened afterward? Didn’t they get in touch again?” Mossbacher followed up.

“I never heard from them. I even tried the e-mail address they’d used . . . something like [email protected]? But it came back undeliverable.”

The detectives exchanged a look. Maggie wasn’t sure what they were thinking. Mossbacher had a small pad on the table and was taking notes.

“How did you first make contact with the group? From their website?” Detective Reyes asked.

“No, nothing like that. I’d checked out their website a few times. Whenever they were in the news. But I wasn’t like a fan or anything.”

“So how did you connect? Did they get in touch with you?” Mossbacher persisted.

Phoebe took a deep breath and stared down at the paper hearts again. She didn’t answer, and Maggie felt the tension in the room rise; she could tell the detectives were losing their patience again.

Detective Reyes was the first to speak. “Believe me, Phoebe, this is not the time to protect anyone.”

Maggie knew that was true. Phoebe had to think of herself
now. If she didn’t watch out, the police department was going to start making a case again her. Totally circumstantial, of course. But Maggie knew how easily that could happen. She’d once been the victim of ersatz evidence and flimsy theories herself.

When Phoebe finally glanced her way, Maggie said, “She’s right, Phoebe. You need to tell the police all you know.”

Phoebe sighed and nodded. “It was Charlotte,” she said quietly. “Charlotte put me in touch with the Knit Kats.”

“Charlotte Blackburn.” Detective Reyes didn’t sound surprised.

But Maggie felt surprised. She took a quick breath and blinked.

“Go on. What was her connection to the group?” Detective Mossbacher prodded.

“I’m not sure. Honest. She just told me she knew they were looking for a new member. She asked if I was interested. I know it was like stupendously stupid, but I said okay, I’ll give it a try. I mean, I thought they were cool and did this interesting fiber art and had a lot of meaning and higher purpose to their graffiti installations. I didn’t realize they’re like . . . creepy and dangerous. I mean, nobody thought that even a few days ago . . . right?”

Maggie had to agree. The truth was nobody knew for sure if the Knit Kats were involved in Beth Shelton’s murder. So far, it just seemed as if they might be, and it was all the police had to go on.

“Go on, Phoebe. Charlotte put your name forward. How long did it take before the group got in touch?” Mossbacher asked, pushing her back on track.

“Not long. I guess it was a day or so before I got the first e-mail. They said if I wanted to try out, I needed to knit twenty of the cat-face meter covers. They gave me about . . . oh, a week to do it, I guess.”

“A week? That’s all?” Maggie couldn’t help herself. Those meter covers were small but complicated, with the trimming and everything. Phoebe had never knit any of their group projects that fast. Those Kats had certainly made her jump through some hoops.

“How did you know what to do? . . . And what to do with the knitting when it was finished?” Detective Reyes asked.

“A pattern was attached to the note. The note didn’t explain what the covers were going to be used for. It just said I’d get instructions about what to do with them. Oh, and the note said everything had to be totally and completely secret. Or there would be ‘very unpleasant consequences.’ Those were the words they used.” Phoebe paused. “I wasn’t really sure what they meant, but hey, it doesn’t sound like something you want, right?”

“Not at all,” Mossbacher agreed. “And what if you didn’t want to do it? Did they say there would be consequences then?”

Phoebe shook her head. “They just said if I didn’t reply in twenty-four hours, they would assume I agreed.” She sighed and bit her lower lip.

“What about the second e-mail? What did that say?” Detective Reyes asked.

“That one gave me instructions on what do with the cat covers. Oh . . . and they told me to make sure I couldn’t be recognized when I went outside. I guess I screwed that up, too,” Phoebe added.

“Your hood slipped off right at the end,” Mossbacher explained.

“Let’s go back a minute,” Detective Reyes cut in. “How did you and Charlotte get on the topic of the Knit Kats in the first place? Did she bring them up, or did you?”

Phoebe took a moment, trying to remember. “We were talking about the art show. Charlotte said the Knit Kats had submitted a few pieces, but their work had been rejected.”

“Rejected by who? Who does the choosing?” Detective Reyes asked.

“Three professors were working together to curate the exhibit. Let’s see . . . Professor Healey, Professor Finch, and Professor Sylvan. He’s on sabbatical this semester. I’m not sure if he saw everything.”

Detective Reyes patiently heard her out. She turned to Phoebe. “So Charlotte brought up the group. Was Charlotte Blackburn one of the Knit Kats? Is she the face that’s crossed out on the website?”

Phoebe stared bleakly at Detective Reyes. “I swear, Detective . . . I
really
don’t know.”

“You never asked her?” Detective Reyes persisted.

Phoebe shook her head. “No . . . I didn’t, honest. I guess I thought the subject was a little touchy since the group is so secret. I figured if Charlotte wanted me to know, she’d tell me. I think I did ask her how she knew them. She wouldn’t really say.”

“What
did
she say?” Mossbacher cut in.

“Something like, ‘Oh, they’re around. You’d be surprised.’ ”

Mossbacher took quick note of that, Maggie noticed.

“How about Beth Shelton? Do you know if she was one of the Knit Kats? Did Charlotte mention that?” Reyes continued.

Phoebe shook her head. “Beth’s name never came up. She was into ceramics. She never did any fiber art. I didn’t know her that well. But I don’t think she knew how to knit.”

Phoebe is definitely doing the right thing by cooperating and telling all she knows, Maggie decided. But hasn’t this informal interrogation gone on too long? She could slip up and say the wrong thing . . . and find herself a suspect. If she doesn’t watch out.

“Doesn’t Phoebe have the right to have an attorney present before she answers more questions?”

“Yes, she does,” Detective Reyes replied. “We can continue this at the station, with your attorney present if you choose, Phoebe. And you’ll have to make a new statement. We’d also like to look around your apartment,” she added. “You can give us permission now. Or we can get a warrant.”

“A warrant . . . you mean like a
search
warrant? . . . Why?” Phoebe’s eyes were wide with shock.

“For evidence relating to the murder of Beth Shelton.” Detective Reyes’s voice was flat and matter-of-fact.

Maggie felt her blood run cold, and she saw the color drain instantly from Phoebe’s face.

“But you don’t think . . . You can’t think I had anything to do with that. I already told you last night. I was looking for Charlotte because I was worried about her. I didn’t even set foot in the bedroom . . .”

“Unfortunately, you didn’t tell us everything. Your connection to the Knit Kats makes you a person of interest in the case.”

A person of interest? That was ludicrous! Phoebe was an innocent pawn . . . and a totally harmless one, Maggie wanted to point out. But the less said the better right now, Maggie decided.

It was time to find Phoebe a good lawyer. Maggie had needed legal help years ago and remembered the attorney’s name, Christine Forbes. She had an office right in town. Maggie was going to call her right away, no matter what Phoebe said.

Maggie heard a phone buzz, and Detective Reyes reached in her pocket to check a text, then looked at Phoebe again.

“Looks like we can get a warrant to search your apartment by the end of the day,” Detective Reyes reported.

“You can look in my apartment right now. I don’t have anything to hide,” Phoebe said emphatically.

Maggie wasn’t sure that was the wisest course. But it was Phoebe’s call, and maybe being so cooperative did show she was innocent.

She suddenly realized that they might want to search the shop, too. She did have an issue with that.

“Do you intend to search the shop?”

“Not unless we have probable cause. Do you think we should?” Detective Mossbacher asked.

“Of course not. There’s absolutely no reason. I was just wondering. And I’d hate it if you did,” Maggie said bluntly.

That was dumb. Maybe I’ve just piqued their curiosity. But she suddenly realized Detective Mossbacher was teasing her. In a low-key way.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Messina. We have no need to search your shop. Not right now anyway,” he assured her. “Everything is in such nice order. I can see why the idea would disturb you.”

His reply made her feel a bit better. It was nice of him to say that. He didn’t have to. Under his tough-guy act, she thought, he was probably a nice man.

Detective Reyes had taken out a form from the slim black binder she carried. She filled it out and asked Phoebe to sign the bottom. Consenting to the search, Maggie guessed.

“We’ll need to take your computer, Phoebe. And anything else that seems relevant.”

Phoebe sighed, her chin practically touching her chest as she nodded. “Okay . . . I understand.”

Maggie was alarmed. “I’m calling an attorney for you. Right now.”

Phoebe looked up at her. She looked scared.

Maggie headed over to the counter, where she kept her phone book. If this attorney wasn’t available, Dana would help them find another. Of course she would go down to the police station again with Phoebe and help her through this latest fiasco. Once their circle of friends found out what was going on, Maggie was fairly certain she would not be alone waiting there, either.

“I’ll go up and get the computer. It’s upstairs,” Phoebe said.

“Don’t bother . . . we’ll find it.” Detective Mossbacher stood up from his chair and met Phoebe’s gaze.

“I’ll go upstairs with you whenever you’re ready to get your purse and jacket,” Detective Reyes said, as politely as if they were about to take a ride to the mall.

They didn’t want Phoebe to tamper with her computer before she gave it to them. Or touch anything else up there. That was clear to Maggie.

She hoped with all her heart they wouldn’t find anything more linking Phoebe with the Knit Kats . . . or Beth Shelton’s murder. Detective Reyes started toward the storeroom, then paused and looked at Phoebe.

“One more question before we go. Do you have any idea where Charlotte Blackburn is?”

Phoebe stared at her bleakly and shook her head. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

“I swear, Detective . . . I
totally
don’t know . . .”

I
t took several hours before Phoebe was finally released by the police. She submitted to many more questions and had to sign a new statement. Her attorney negotiated to have all charges dropped—even littering—in exchange for Phoebe’s cooperation.

The police had her look at the photos of the Knit Kats, printed off the website and enlarged. Phoebe hadn’t recognized anyone. Maggie was also asked to look at them, but she didn’t recognize anyone, either.

Even with the images enlarged, the makeup and disguises held up well. But questions from the police had made her wonder if she actually had met any of the Knit Kats. They could be customers coming into her store from time to time, Detective Mossbacher had pointed out.

The notion had crossed Maggie’s mind, too. But who? Some pleasant senior taking a class on easy projects for her grandchildren? Some mother-to-be learning how to knit booties and bibs? The truth was, you just never know. Case in
point, Phoebe had been auditioning for the group right under her nose and she had not suspected a thing.

Maggie had been upset with Phoebe for not coming clean sooner about her Knit Kats connections. But she understood that she’d been trying to protect Charlotte. Still, she should have told somebody. They all would have advised her to tell the truth. The police always find out everything anyway, in their slow, methodical way. Now Phoebe had discovered that for herself and was suffering the consequences.

Maggie felt so sorry for her, she couldn’t stay mad for long.

After they were done at the police station, Maggie took charge of Phoebe once more. Maggie decided to take Phoebe home again, where they would have a quiet dinner and go to sleep early.

They both knew that tomorrow would start with an onerous task: cleaning up Phoebe’s apartment.

“Should we swing by the shop and check out the mess?” Phoebe asked as Maggie drove across town.

Maggie had been silently debating the same question.

“I don’t think so. We’re both a little tired for that right now. But maybe we should pick up your car,” she suggested. “In case one of us needs to sleep in tomorrow.”

Maggie was fairly certain of which one of them that would be. But didn’t want to elaborate.

“All right, let’s get my car,” Phoebe agreed. She glanced at Maggie. “I hope Van Gogh is all right. He must be even more confused now.”

“Cats are very adaptable. He’ll be fine once he sees you.”