Close Knit Killer (19 page)

Nineteen

Ke
lly
heard a short staccato knock on her cottage front door. Burt was right on time, she
thought, glancing at her watch as she hurried to the door. Eight fifteen in the morning.

She yanked the door open. “Hey, Burt. Perfect timing. The coffee is brewing now.”

“Thanks, Kelly, but I’ll take a pass,” Burt said as he stepped inside. “I drank way
too much of the stuff yesterday while we were setting up the booth.”

“Well, I’m ready for my first mug of the day,” Kelly said as she headed for the kitchen.
“Have a seat, Burt. Try out that comfy new chair I bought.”

“Don’t mind if I do, Kelly. This may be the only time I get to sit down all day.”
Burt settled into the overstuffed armchair and leaned back. “Say . . . this
is
comfortable. I may sneak over here and steal a nap sometime.”

“Be my guest, Burt,” she said as she filled her mug. “You won’t bother me or my accounts.
Besides, you may need a break in between trips to Estes Park and back. Is the booth
ready for the market opening tomorrow?”

“Almost. The shelves are nearly filled. Both Rosa and Connie are taking turns driving
loads of stuff from the shop to the exhibition building. We should be ready by tonight.
We’re going to take both of them to dinner and pay for their hotel. We always need
them during the market on Saturday and Sunday.”

“You’re bringing in the part-time help to run the shop tomorrow, right?” Kelly settled
into another upholstered chair across from Burt.

“Yes, thank goodness, we have a deep enough list of temp helpers who’ve worked in
the shop, so they know what to do and can answer customers’ questions.” Burt settled
his hands in his lap, lacing his fingers, in what Kelly recognized as his “let’s talk”
pose. “Now, let’s go over how we’re going to handle this meeting with Madge. I called
her earlier this morning and asked her if she could come in and discuss another spinning
class we might have her teach. So we’ll have some time before I have to drive back
to Estes Park. I’m thinking we’ll meet her in the remodeled storage building. That’s
where we’ve been keeping bags of fleece for the market. Plus, it will give us some
privacy.” Burt sighed. “I have to tell you, Kelly. I think you’ve really gone out
into left field with this one. I know what you’ve told me sounds incriminating, but . . .
I just can’t picture Madge doing something like that. I don’t even know if she has
the strength to rip open Jared Rizzoli’s throat. I just don’t think she could. It’s
entirely possible Bridget thought she recognized Madge, when she didn’t. Maybe it
was someone else. Then again, why would some unknown woman be washing her hands behind
Lambspun?” His familiar puzzled frown appeared.

Kelly took a deep drink of her coffee. She still had her doubts, too. Assuming Bridget
was correctly identifying Madge, then everything Bridget told her sounded suspicious.
Then add Madge’s lies—to her daughter and to Kelly. Why would Madge lie about something
so innocuous if she wasn’t hiding something? Then again . . . Madge was slightly built,
not big and muscular like her daughter Barb. Could Madge commit such a brutal murder?

“I know how you feel, Burt. That’s precisely why I called you. Why I
always
call you. You’re my sounding board. And I admit, I could be completely wrong about
Madge. That’s why we’ll have to make this questioning sound innocent. I certainly
don’t want to accuse an innocent woman and have her mad at me forever.” Kelly made
a face.

“Same here. Madge is a valuable teacher, and a wonderful spinner, and a good friend
of Lambspun. We don’t want to lose her. So we’re definitely going to have to tread
carefully. As I said before, Bridget could have been completely mistaken.”

Kelly glanced at her watch. “Maybe we should go over there now. She’s coming in fifteen
minutes, so we might as well get set up and comfortable in the storage area.”

“I agree.” Burt pushed himself out of the chair. “We’ve got a worktable and chairs
in there now, so we can be working when Madge shows up. I’ve got some files with class
schedules inside, so I’ll go get those now.”

“I’ll bring my charity baby hat with me,” Kelly said as she headed back to the kitchen
for a coffee refill. “I’m almost finished anyway.”

Burt stood in the open doorway. “Okay, grab your knitting and come on over. I think
we should settle in now, so we look natural. Madge often shows up early.”

“Got it. I’ll be right over,” Kelly said, but Burt was already out the door.

* * *

“Okay,
that looks like Madge’s car pulling into a parking space now,” Burt said, as he leaned
back in the metal chair to peer through a side window.

Kelly looked up from the almost-finished baby hat. She was working on the crown now,
reducing the stitches row by row, so the circle narrowed and narrowed, until it was
just a small opening that she would pull closed from a strand of yarn beneath the
crown. She looked toward the door. “Okay, I’ll follow your lead as usual. Have you
figured out how you’re going to make this sound innocent?”

“Kind of. I’ll probably play it by ear. We’ll see.” Burt moved more of his class schedule
papers around him on the table.

Suddenly Madge appeared in the doorway, and Kelly was astounded to see she was carrying
another bag of fleece. A beige one this time. Instinctively, Kelly jumped from her
chair to help the older woman. “Here, Madge, let me take that. I can’t believe you’ve
spun another whole bag of fleece.”

“Well, I had some left over from my Creamy Beige Beauty. She always throws the prettiest
shades of beige and brown.” She handed the bag off to Kelly. “Thank you, my dear.
That’s very sweet of you, but I can really manage, you know. I’m stronger than I look.”

Burt stood and pulled out a chair on Madge’s side of the worktable. “Hey, Madge. Have
a seat, will you, and take a look at this schedule I’ve drawn up. I think I could
use you for another class.” He placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of her
chair.

Madge looked up at the ceiling and the bigger windows on the walls. “Hal Nelson certainly
did a good job with this old garage. Repaired the walls, brought in more light. Even
patched up the stucco with new.” She gave a satisfied nod. “He’s a good craftsman.”

“He certainly is,” Kelly added as Madge sat down. “I kept track of his progress every
day. His and Malcolm’s, that is.”

“Oh, yes. Malcolm. He seemed to be a good worker, despite his problems.” Madge looked
down at the paper in front of her. “Looks like you could use someone for a Thursday
afternoon class, am I right?”

“You sure are. Do you think you could handle another class, Madge?” Burt asked, his
pen poised over some other papers.

“Certainly, Burt. I’d be glad to,” Madge said with a little smile. “Now, is that all
you wanted to talk to me about?”

Kelly looked up from the knitted baby hat, surprised by Madge’s question. Burt looked
surprised, too.

“Well, I . . . I did want to get on your schedule so you could . . . plan ahead,”
Burt answered after a few seconds’ pause.

“You could have asked me that question on the phone, Burt,” Madge said, her little
smile turning sly. “Are you sure you don’t have some other questions?”

Kelly stared at Madge. She couldn’t help it. Madge was acting like she knew what Burt
was going to say before he said it. Kelly’s little buzzer went off inside.

Burt seemed a little nonplussed for a second, then looked down and cleared his throat.
He laid the class schedules aside. “Well, yes, Madge . . . there is something else
I wanted to ask. I . . . We, Mimi and I, have noticed you doing some weeding in the
garden lately.”

Madge cocked her head and kept that little smile. “Yes, whenever I see an intrusive
weed in a garden, I just have to yank it out. Why do you ask? Did you not want me
to remove the weeds?”

“No, no . . . it’s just that . . . Mimi planted some new flowers and she wanted to
make sure you didn’t mistake them for weeds. And someone said you were weeding at
the back of the building Friday night, two weeks ago. And that’s where Mimi planted
her new flowers.”

Madge folded her hands in her lap. “No, I wasn’t weeding behind the building two weeks
ago. That was the night Jared Rizzoli was killed.”

Burt’s expression grew somber. “Yes . . . yes, it was.”

Kelly was watching this short exchange with fascination. Madge was carefully answering
Burt’s questions. But she also added information or asked a question of her own. Kelly’s
little buzzer got louder. Something was definitely up with Madge. She decided to jump
in, if for nothing else than to distract Madge’s attention.

“Don’t be annoyed with Burt, Madge. It’s all my fault for telling him that one of
the café waitresses said she saw you that Friday night about seven o’clock. You were
washing your hands and your dress beneath the outside water faucet. I just happened
to mention it to Burt, and . . . well, he got worried about Mimi’s flowers.”

Kelly was quite pleased with her quick subterfuge and even quicker lie. She’d noticed
that lying in the midst of questioning suspects had come all too easily when she was
sleuthing. She glanced at Burt and he looked slightly grateful.

Madge, however, eyed Kelly and her smile grew. “Just happened? Kelly, I doubt that
you ‘just happen’ to do anything. You appear far more deliberate a person than that.”

Kelly blinked. She wasn’t expecting that response. “I’m not sure what you mean,” Kelly
managed after a few seconds’ pause.

“Yes, you do. Burt didn’t ask me to come in for a simple scheduling question. There’s
something else he wants to ask me. Why else would he be sitting here in this nice
quiet room, where we cannot be disturbed? And why else would you be sitting next to
him, Kelly?” Madge gave her an almost maternal smile. “You really should finish that
hat, dear. Those little babies could use it.” She pointed to the knitted hat in Kelly’s
lap.

Kelly stared back at Madge, who was sitting in the chair, calm, cool, and collected—asking
them
questions.

Burt cleared his throat again, and leaned forward over the table. “You’re right, Madge.
We do have some other questions to ask you about the night Jared Rizzoli died. Kelly
said you told her you asked Barbara where she had driven when she returned to your
home that Friday evening. Yet, Barbara told Kelly that you were not there when she
came home. You came in later, and your dress was wet. Barbara said you told her you
walked through a neighbor’s sprinklers. Now, those seem to be innocuous lapses from
truth, except for the fact that you were seen outside Lambspun within the time frame
that Jared Rizzoli was killed.” Burt’s voice dropped lower. “So, Madge, would you
like to tell Kelly and me exactly where you were during the hours of six o’clock and
eight o’clock the evening that Jared Rizzoli was killed?”

Madge looked first at Burt, then at Kelly, her little smile still in place. She leaned
back into her chair and folded her hands again. “I’ll be glad to. I met Jared Rizzoli
here in the Lambspun driveway. I spoke to him for a minute, then I stabbed him in
the throat with the knife I took from a toolbox in this building.”

Kelly stared at her. She couldn’t help it.
What the heck?
Madge calmly admitted murdering Jared Rizzoli like she was describing a new spinning
technique. Kelly quickly glanced to Burt, who looked equally stunned at Madge’s brazen
statement.

“Madge . . . do you know what you’re saying?” Burt asked, looking startled. “Are you
feeling all right?”

“Of course I’m all right. And I know exactly what I’m saying. I borrowed Jennifer’s
cell phone overnight so I could send a text message to Rizzoli that he would respond
to. I figured he would definitely show up later in the evening if his real estate
agent asked him to.” Her smile turned smug. “Of course he did. If it had to do with
money, Rizzoli would come running. So, I waited until Hal Nelson and Malcolm left
for the evening, and I took one of their work knives. I purposely chose one that was
old and worn. But the blade was still sharp enough to do the job.” She gave a self-satisfied
nod. Job well-done, obviously. “I gave it an extra yank to make sure he died quickly.
Got all those important veins and arteries. I didn’t want him trying to get out of
the car and attracting attention. Of course, that made quite a mess. That’s why the
waitress saw me. I had to wash off all that blood, for goodness’ sake.”

For goodness’ sake
. Kelly stared at Madge, mesmerized by her calm recitation of a bloody, brutal murder.
For goodness’ sake
. Goodness had nothing to do with it. She looked at Burt and their gazes met. Burt
looked as shocked at what he’d heard as Kelly felt. What was it the night watchman
would cry out in warning as he walked London streets two centuries ago?
“Murder! Bloody murder! Murder most foul!”
Murder.
For goodness’ sake
.

Burt leaned forward a little more. “Did you know Hal Nelson was going to talk to Rizzoli
that night? Had the two of you discussed—”

“No such thing!” Madge snapped angrily, sitting up ramrod straight in the chair. “I
was shocked when I saw Hal outside talking to that awful man. Hal Nelson had nothing
to do with my plans. I’d already decided to kill Rizzoli the day after Barbara went
to his seminar and confronted him in public. Rizzoli was an evil, evil man who caused
great pain and suffering and death. Yes, death! Good people sickened and died like
Hal’s mother or committed suicide like my dear husband. All because of Jared Rizzoli’s
greed and hateful schemes. He was an evil man and deserved to die. And I’d kill him
all over again if I had the chance!” She gave a firm nod, as if saying, “That’s that.”

Kelly watched Madge, sitting tall and proud in her Righteous Anger. She looked to
Burt, who was watching Madge with a mixture of astonishment and sadness. Burt took
a deep breath and spoke. “Madge, you realize I will have to report this conversation
to the police.”