Dyer Consequences (15 page)

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Authors: Maggie Sefton

BOOK: Dyer Consequences
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Her thoughts must have been on rhythm, because Connie sashayed into the main room then, singing some Spanish tune and swinging her hips, her arms filled with balls of yarn. Kelly grinned. She didn’t know if it was a samba or not, but Connie had made her laugh. Always a good thing.
“Hey, Connie, I hear you had a great time in the Caribbean. It sure looks like it.”
“Oh, boy, did I,” Connie said while refilling yarn bins with the colorful bundles. She half-danced her way around the table until she glimpsed Kelly’s casted foot resting on the chair. “Oh, Kelly, I’m so sorry you had an accident. That must have been frightening. Driving down the canyon with no brakes.”
“Crashing down is more like it,” Kelly quipped. “But I’m lucky to come out of it alive.”
Connie pulled out a chair beside Kelly’s resting leg. “I swear, I’m afraid to go away again. I come back and find out horrible things have happened.” A look of concern shadowed her face. “Like poor Tracy. How could someone kill her? She was such a quiet, friendly girl. It’s simply incomprehensible. And to think, I was probably the last person to see her alive.”
“Were you here that night, Connie? How late did you stay?” Kelly asked, curiosity stopping her stitches.
“Probably until around six. I was finishing up lots of stuff because my husband and I were leaving on vacation first thing Saturday morning. Tracy arrived earlier, as she had each afternoon that week, and started working on dyeing her fibers.” Connie bit her lip. “She was trying so hard to match that Aztec Blue she liked. Poor thing. I remember she came upstairs to ask me some questions before I left. She was so conscientious.”
Kelly let her knitting drop to her lap. “Connie, do you remember anything else from that evening before you left? Did anyone come to see Tracy? Did she talk about anyone? Did she get a phone call?”
Connie stared at the bookshelves, her brows worrying each other. “Now that you mention it, I do remember a phone call. Her cell phone started wiggling and buzzing on the counter and playing this funny circus music. I started laughing.”
Kelly sat up straighter, her injured extremities forgotten. She’d wondered if Tracy had a cell phone, but Burt had never mentioned one. Kelly had often thought it strange that a college student wouldn’t have a cell phone. Why hadn’t Burt said anything?
“Did she say who called?”
Connie smiled maternally. “I figured it was her boyfriend, because she was all flushed while she was talking. I even teased her about it. She must have been going to meet him because I heard her say she’d see him ’later.’ ” Connie’s smile disappeared. “Poor thing. She never got there. Those vicious animals killed her first.”
Kelly stared at Connie, her thoughts picking up speed. So, Tracy
did
have a boyfriend. A boyfriend she planned to see later that evening. Her cell phone would have a record of the call.
“Is Burt coming in today, Connie? You need to tell him about Tracy’s phone conversation. It may be important.”
Connie shrugged. “Sure, if you think Burt would be interested.”
“Interested in what?” Burt’s voice asked as he entered the room. “Good to see you back in the shop, Kelly. A little worse for wear, maybe.” He leaned on a yarn bin and winked at her.
“Hey, Burt, Connie was with Tracy that Friday night in the shop. She says Tracy got a phone call from her
boyfriend
on her
cell phone.
” Kelly emphasized the words.
Burt arched a brow at Connie. “I was going to say ‘Welcome back, Connie,’ but I guess Kelly has whizzed right past greetings. Were you here that night with Tracy?”
“Until at least six or so. Then I had to go home and pack. I’m not sure if I know anything that’s important.”
“How come you never mentioned the cell phone, Burt? The cops could track the boyfriend’s phone, find out who he is, find out—”
“I never mentioned it because they never found a cell phone. They didn’t know if she had one or not. Dan said they looked all over the shop and downstairs in the basement just in case. Those guys probably grabbed it when they were trashing the shop. Tracy’s backpack was found tossed behind the counter, and her wallet was empty.”
“Damn,” Kelly said softly, unable to hide her disappointment. The tantalizing clue had been so close, only to disappear.
“Connie, why don’t you come into Pete’s with me and get some coffee, so we can talk,” Burt suggested. “I’ll tell Mimi you’re busy for a few minutes.” Glancing at Kelly, he added, “You’ll be glad to know the department is working its way through that north side bunch. Some of those guys are talking. Others aren’t saying much. They’re scared. One of the head guys is a pretty bad customer. He’s already done time for assault.”
That got Kelly’s attention. “Whoa, that’s scary, Burt.”
“You’re right. I’ll keep you posted,” he said as he and Connie left.
Picking up the half-finished scarf where she left off, Kelly let Connie’s comments sift through her head. That call had to be from Tracy’s mysterious no-name boyfriend. Why else would she have been blushing? And Tracy planned to meet him later . . . or . . . maybe he came over to the shop instead. Was that why Tracy left the front door unlocked? It
had
to be.
Kelly’s heart beat faster now than when she’d clumped her way across the driveway earlier. If only she could hop out of this chair and race into the café and tell Burt what she was thinking. She glanced around the shop, but no one was around.
Rats.
What she needed right now was a pair of legs.
The sound of the front bell’s jingle was followed by Lisa’s swift steps into the room. “Ahhhh, good girl, Kelly. I see you made it across the driveway, and you’re working on your scarf, too. Excellent,” Lisa rattled off as she dropped her things on the other side of the table.
Kelly was about to ask Lisa to run into the café when Julie appeared with a fresh mug of coffee. Talk about special service. “Whoa, Julie. You’re a sweetheart. Listen, Burt’s in the café with Connie. Would you tell him I need to speak with him after he’s finished? It’s about Tracy.”
“Sure thing, Kelly,” Julie said.
“What’s this about Tracy?” Lisa interrogated, looking up from the turquoise and gray yarn in her lap. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me. You’re sleuthing again, aren’t you? I swear, Kelly, what does it take to get through to you? You’ve had a serious accident, for heaven’s sake. You need to take it easy.” Lisa glared at her.
“I
am
taking it easy. Check it out.” Kelly pointed to her leg propped on the chair. “I can barely get to the bathroom, much less get into trouble.”
Clearly dissatisfied with Kelly’s reply, Lisa gave a disgusted snort. “Then what was all that about Tracy a minute ago? You’re still poking into things. Sleuthing around.”
“Hey, I can still ask questions, can’t I?” Kelly affected a wounded tone. “What’s wrong with that? And if I learn something that could help solve Tracy’s murder, you bet I’m going to tell Burt. Tracy’s death has too many loose ends to suit me.”
Kelly picked up her knitting where she left off, but her concentration was still with Tracy and the cell phone and the mysterious boyfriend.
“You’re impossible, you know that?” Lisa accused, not looking up from the sweater that dangled from her needles.
“I know. That’s one of my better character traits,” Kelly said with a smile, then dodged the ball of yarn that sailed past her head.
Six feet away. Three more crutch steps to her chair. Kelly gritted her teeth as she continued her agonizingly slow progress back to the knitting table. Her nearly sprained right ankle sent another stab of pain shooting up her leg. Protesting. How would she get across the driveway if she could barely make it from the bathroom? She wondered. She sank heavily into the chair.
“Wow, I’m beat,” she admitted to Megan, who was watching her with a worried frown.
“Have you had that painkiller yet?” Megan asked as she helped Kelly lift her leg onto the chair.
“I don’t like those pills. They make me loopy. Like I’m drunk,” she protested, despite the fact that both of her ankles—broken and sprained—throbbed unmercifully.
Megan grabbed Kelly’s bag and retrieved the pill bottle. “Too bad. You need these, Kelly. I can see how much it hurts from the look on your face. Take these right now.” She shook two pills into her hand and held them out. “No excuses.”
“Okay, okay,” Kelly acquiesced and tossed down the pills with the rest of her coffee. “Boy, you’re getting more and more like Lisa.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Megan teased, imitating Lisa’s frequent reply.
“Hey, Kelly, how’s that foot doing?” Steve’s voice sounded behind her.
Oh, great.
She’d just taken the loopy pills. In a few minutes she’d start talking stupid and acting funny. In front of Steve, yet. She didn’t mind acting stupid in front of Megan. Megan just laughed. Like she had last night when Kelly started singing along with the television commercials.
“Good thing you showed up now, Steve,” Megan said as she settled on the other side of the table and picked up her knitting. “Kelly just took her pain pills, so she only has a few minutes of coherent thought. After that, she’ll start singing and then fall asleep.”
“Gee, thanks, Megan.”
“Just telling the truth,” Megan said with a grin.
Steve pulled up a chair beside Kelly. To her surprise, he picked up her hand and held it between both of his. “In that case, I’d better talk fast while you can still understand what I’m saying.” He looked into her eyes. Kelly was startled to see the concern there. “Kelly, I just came from the dealership that has your car—”
“I bet it’s totaled, right?” Kelly cut in anxiously.
“Yeah, it is. And it wasn’t an accident, either.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your brakes were cut. As soon as the mechanic called me, I went over to see for myself. No doubt about it, Kelly. Someone cut your brakes before you drove out of the canyon. Probably while you were checking the ranch.”
Kelly heard Megan’s sharp intake of breath across the table. Meanwhile, she tried to process what Steve had said.
“Wh-what? Someone wanted me to crash? Who would do that?”
“I don’t know, Kelly, but until the police find out, you’ve got to be extra careful. I’ve already talked with Burt, and he’s alerting the police.”
“Oh, my God, Kelly,” Megan gasped. "That . . . that person who tried to kill Carl is after
you
now!”
Kelly stared at Steve, then Megan. Were they serious?
“Meanwhile, we’re going to make sure you’re not alone at any time. You can work here in the shop during the day, and Megan or Lisa or Jennifer can help you in the morning and evening. I’ll handle guard duty at night. I’ve got my sleeping bag in the truck.”
Kelly stared, still not comprehending all that she was hearing. Someone cut her brakes in the canyon. Someone wanted her to crash. Someone wanted to kill her?
"Wh-what . . . what do you mean ‘guard duty’?”
Megan leaned over the table, face sheet-white, blue eyes huge, but her voice was firm. “Kelly, someone’s after
you
now! You can’t be left alone. We have to protect you.” Turning to Steve, she continued. “I’ll work out a schedule with the others for dinner, Steve, and we’ll take turns staying with Kelly until you can take over at night. I know you have to work late. We can come early in the mornings, too.”
Kelly listened to Megan and Steve plan out the next few days of her life—schedules for meals, sleeping, getting dressed in the morning. Their conversation swirled around her, and she wanted to jump in and protest all these arrangements, but her thoughts were having trouble traveling from her head to her mouth. The loopy pills were starting to work, and bringing their fog with them.
“Hey . . . wait a minute. . . . I don’t need someone to . . . to guard me at night,” she managed to protest.
“Yeah, you do,” Steve said, reaching over to brush a lock of dark hair from her face. “No arguments, sweetheart.” He placed a finger against her lips.
The warmth of Steve’s hand and the loopy pills started to mess up her mind. Now she
really
couldn’t think straight. Did Steve just call her sweetheart? He’d never called her that before. Kelly tried to remember, but her memory cells weren’t responding. They’d gone off-line already. Loopy pills at work.
“I think we’re losing her, Megan,” Steve said with a crooked smile.
“Ohhh, yeah, she’s going fast.”
“I’m still here...” Kelly said through the fog.
“Listen, Kelly, before you check out entirely, Burt wants to know if you saw any cars parked near the ranch when you went up there.”
Kelly blinked through the rapidly thickening fog. “Cars? Just my car . . . I parked . . .”
“Yeah, up at the ranch. But did you see anyone parked on the road?”
“Me . . . I parked on the road . . . driveway snowed in.”
“The driveway was snowed in? It wasn’t plowed?”
Kelly shook her head slowly. “Nope... footprints in snow . . . so I walked . . . deep snow . . . real deep.”
“And you didn’t see anybody around?”
She shook her head again. “Nobody . . . nobody there . . . no cars . . . no trucks, either.”
The fog had taken over entirely now, leaving behind that delightful euphoria. She couldn’t even feel the pain in her ankles. Heck, she couldn’t even feel her ankles. Did she
have
ankles? Just the sound of Steve’s voice close by and his warm hand on hers.
Steve was there. What did he say? He was going to guard her? Watch over her.
That’s good.
She’d like that. She’d like that a lot.
Kelly smiled crookedly at Steve. “You’re staying the night with me?”
Steve grinned. “Yep. I’ll be watching over you.”

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