Purl Up and Die (12 page)

“Oooooh, that's awful,” Cindy said, rolling slowly.

“Life of a slave,” Sara said. “Maybe these last rolls will go faster if we chant something like ‘Row! Row!'” She grinned. “We even have a slave master watching over us.” She pointed to Mimi then began to chant, “I must row. I must row,” as she kept rolling.

Mimi chuckled. “Well, at least I don't have a whip, so that's good.”

“Row or die,” Sara changed the chant. “Row or die.”

Kelly had to laugh. “Born to row, born to row,” she chanted.

Sara and Mimi laughed.

Melanie frowned. “I don't like the slave ship image. Let's picture something else,” she suggested. “So we can get this done. Maybe something funny.”

“I don't know if I can finish now,” Cindy said. “My arms are aching already.”

“C'mon, you don't want to have to come back tomorrow,” Melanie goaded.

“Believe me, your arms will ache even more if you come back tomorrow to finish,” Kelly advised. “Your muscles will be really sore. Hang in there and finish now. Then you can go home and take a hot shower and relax.”

“That's right. Oh, and buy some of that muscle rub cream at the drugstore. That will really help those sore muscles. After the hot shower, of course.” Sara kept her methodical rhythm going. “Let's see . . . something funny, something funny.”

Kelly was already up to four hundred and fifty, so she took a quick break, wondering if there was any other way to encourage her flagging classmate Cindy to keep going. It looked like Melanie was gritting her teeth and bearing it. But Cindy was clearly about to throw in the towel. Literally.

Sara spoke up again. “Hey, I've got a new chant. Since we don't like the Roman rowing chant, let's try this. Besides, it's funny. And it rhymes, too,” she teased.

“Bring it. I need something to distract myself. I'm coming up on four hundred,” Melanie said.

“Four hundred!” Cindy exclaimed. “I'm only on two hundred sixty . . . or something.”

“Give it a shot, Sara,” Kelly encouraged. “Cindy needs something to get through to the finish line.”

“Okay, I just thought of it.” Sara paused her motions for a second, then started another roll as she chanted: “I must, I must, I must increase my bust. I must, I must, I must increase my bust.”

Kelly burst out laughing and broke her rolling stride. Both Cindy and Melanie joined in the laughter, and Mimi laughed so hard she had to sit down. Kelly and Melanie picked up the chant, and after a minute Cindy picked up the towel-wrapped rolling pin and joined her classmates.

Later that afternoon

“Hey, there,” Megan said as she walked into Lambspun's main room. She dropped her new felted knitting bag onto the library table.

Kelly looked up from the blue and green ribbon yarns she was knitting into a scarf. “How's the workload going? Are you keeping those clients in line?” she teased.

“Kind of. One of my IT clients had his regular monthly panic attack, so I had to talk him down this morning. I swear, he's gotta cut back on the caffeine intake.” She folded her arms on the knitting bag. “So, tell me. What were you able to find out from the information I sent you? There was only one student who went to Westgate High School the same year Laura Brewster did and was also in the same
semester's section of Professor Smith's anatomy class. Nancy Marsted. So, it's got to be her, right?”

“That's what I figure. And thanks to you, O Mighty Master of Software Espionage, I had her e-mail. I sent her a message and asked if we could meet for coffee so I could ask some questions about that anatomy class. I haven't heard back yet.” Kelly took a sip of coffee from her ever-present mug.

Megan grinned. “Mighty Master, huh? I like it. Maybe I'll put that on a tee shirt. Hey, what about Watson? You're Sherlock, and I can be Watson.”

Kelly chuckled. “You got it. Nobody else is in your league. Watson, it is.”

“All riiiiiiight.” Megan gave a fist pump. “I will definitely put that on a tee shirt. It'll drive everyone crazy wondering what it means.”

Kelly laughed out loud this time. “I love it. It's
so
you, Megan.”

Megan pulled a bright pink knitted top from her bag. It looked halfway finished.

“Oooooooh, that's a pretty shade of pink. Perfect for you with your coloring,” Kelly said admiringly.

Megan smiled. “Thanks, but you could wear this, Kelly. You're just too conservative with colors.”

“No, I'm not!” Kelly protested. “I wear red and bright blue.”

Megan looked over at Kelly with a patient expression. “Everyone can wear red. And bright blue is easy. I'm talking about the other colors. The daring ones, like this. ‘Bubblegum pink.'” She read from the label.

“The ‘daring' colors, huh?” Kelly said with a wry smile. “I'll take that under advisement.”

“You do that. It'll shake up your wardrobe.”

Rosa walked into the room then. “Kelly, you were in Mimi's Wet Felting class today, right?”

“Yes, I was. Do you need me to move my scarf or something?”

“No, we're good. I already moved the four of them into the back room of the office to finish drying. They all look super. I love the colors you chose, Kelly. Deep rose and orange against fire-engine red. Striking,” Rosa said before she scurried into the workroom.

Kelly looked over at Megan with a cocky smile. “Did you hear that, Miz Color Expert?
Striking
. So there.” She made a face.

Megan chuckled. “Orange against fire-engine red? I'm proud of you, Kelly. There's hope for you yet.”

Kelly gave an exasperated sigh and concentrated on knitting the shiny ribbon yarns. It was easy to make a mistake and suddenly find twelve stitches on the needles rather than ten. Kelly counted to make sure there were only ten. Suddenly she heard a distinctive beep on her cell phone, signifying an e-mail message just arrived. Pulling the phone from her bag, she glanced at the screen. “Good. Nancy Marsted didn't blow me off. She can meet for coffee tomorrow afternoon in the university plaza. Perfect.”

“
Aha,
” Megan said, looking up from the bubblegum pink yarn. “The game is afoot!”

Kelly laughed softly.

•   •   •

Kelly
stepped down into the garden patio at the back of the shop late that afternoon. Empty now of café customers since it was four o'clock. Because of that, Kelly often chose to sit in the shade outside, surrounded by greenery, while she worked on client accounts. Choosing a shady table under the overhanging branches of the cottonwood tree, Kelly settled in for an afternoon's work. Tonight would be softball practice.

The familiar accounting spreadsheets came to life on her laptop, and Kelly checked her file folders for the appropriate column of numbers to update.

Suddenly she heard her name being called. “Hey, Kelly? Do you have a minute?”

She looked up to see Burt headed her way, holding a big white plastic drink cup emblazoned with Big Box's logo. “For you, Burt? Always.” She pushed her laptop aside as her friend, mentor, and father figure pulled up a chair across the table from her

Burt took a big sip of his drink and looked around the shady nook. “It's nice here in the shade. The late afternoon sun is behind the trees,” he pointed out. “Cuts the heat, doesn't it?”

“Sure does. What's up? I can tell you've heard something.”

Burt smiled and settled into a chair across from her. “You know me too well,” he teased.

“Scary, isn't it? We can read each other easily now.”

“Okay. First, let me update you on what Dan said to me this afternoon before I told him about your visit with Sandy. Dan told me the medical examiner found traces of alcohol, rubbing alcohol, on Laura Brewster's neck. Now, he's found there were also signs that the skin on her neck had been rubbed hard. Dan figures the killer must have tried to eliminate fingerprints. And there were none found, which indicates the killer must have worn gloves.”

“Does that throw a wrench into the violent intruder theory? I mean, how many people who break into campus apartments wear gloves?”

“You'd be surprised. Those break-ins aren't always spur-of-the-moment crimes. You know . . . they see an apartment patio door ajar and decide to sneak in and grab what they can then run off. Some of those break-ins are well planned. Some thieves are experts in stealing the expensive stuff and selling it in Denver. It's become a real racket.”

Kelly looked out into the greenery. “And students are an all-too-inviting target. So many of them go out drinking with friends, then come home and forget to lock their apartment doors. Then they fall asleep on the couch in front of the television. That makes it all too easy for thieves. I can see someone sneaking in and stealing stuff while the students are snoring on the sofa.”

Burt nodded. “Oh, yeah. And sometimes the thief is one of the victim's friends. They know where the good stuff is.”

“So you think the police are leaning toward the intruder who turned violent? You said the apartment was ransacked. I can't picture Tommy taking time to pull out drawers and throw stuff around.”

Burt gave her a wry smile. “True, there's the appearance that it was a break-in gone bad. Even her purse was found on the sidewalk a block away. But Dan and the department can't ignore that Tommy did take that night off from working at the clinic to study. And he has no witnesses to confirm that. So, I'm afraid Tommy is still very much in the department's bull's-eye.”

“That's what worries me, Burt.”

Burt sighed. “Yeah, me, too. Dan said they were going to question Tommy again tomorrow. So, I'm hoping he may remember something he did that can confirm his whereabouts. Like going out for pizza. Something. Anything.”

Kelly looked at her dear friend. “Boy, that has the sound of desperation to it.”

“Yeah, I'm afraid it does.” Burt looked out into the greenery. “And Tommy had better take their family lawyer with him this time.”

Once again, Kelly didn't have anything to say. Events were moving along at a faster pace now. A stray thought took her attention then. “By the way, was Dan surprised when you told him about the incident with Laura Brewster and the professor?”

“Ohhhhhhh, yes. He was definitely surprised. And he promised to get back to me. Don't worry. I'll let you know what Dan finds out as soon as I know.”

“Thanks, Burt. I don't know if it will lead to anything, but maybe. I just have this funny feeling that there's more about Laura Brewster we don't know. In fact, I'm going to meet with a classmate of hers tomorrow morning and see what I can learn about Laura. This girl went to high school
with her and was in that same anatomy class Laura was in. So let's see if I learn anything interesting.”

Burt chuckled. “Now it's your turn to keep
me
posted, Kelly.”

“Turnabout's fair play, Burt,” Kelly teased.

Early Monday morning

Kelly
heard her cell phone's music as she was pushing open the glass door to the grocery store. She glanced at the screen and saw Burt's name and promptly turned around and walked out of the store via the exit door, back into the early morning heat.

“Hey, Burt, what's up?” she said, walking around the corner of the store to find some shade.

“Hi, Kelly. It sounds like you're outside. I won't keep you. Just wanted to tell you that I heard from Dan. He left me a message. He checked those official complaint files, and the woman who lodged the complaint of sexual assault against Professor Paul Smith was Laura Brewster.”

“I
knew
it! I could feel it,” Kelly exclaimed, causing a shopper pushing a grocery cart to turn around and stare. Kelly walked farther away from the cart area. “You already
said that Dan was surprised when you first told him what Sandy observed. Did he say anything else now?”

“He sure did. Dan told me to thank you for that lead. He and his partner will pay Professor Smith a visit soon.” Burt's chuckle came over the phone. “Good going, Sherlock.”

Kelly just smiled as she watched the shoppers rush from their parked cars into the air-conditioned supermarket.

•   •   •

“I
can get those interim statements to you tomorrow, Don,” Kelly said into her cell phone. “But the numbers are going to change by the end of the month—you know that.” She leaned against her desk in the corner of her cottage.

“I will bear that in mind, Kelly,” Denver developer Don Warner said, the sound of a smile in his voice. “Don't worry. I don't plan to commit any capital until we've got the complete July statements. You'd have my head on a platter.” He chuckled.

“You've got that right,” Kelly teased her client. “Who're you meeting again?”

“That investor who wants to develop a strip mall on the northeast corner of the interstate and Route 7. You know that area is heating up.”

Glancing outside the patio door into the cottage backyard, she spotted Carl stretched out on the grass. Snoozing in the morning sunshine. In another two hours, the July sun would be way too hot, and Carl would seek the shade of the cottonwood tree for his naps. Just like the café patrons who loved eating outdoors in the summer. Very few ever claimed the sunny table on the porch in July.

Slight movements in her flower garden to the right of the patio caught Kelly's eye. There was Brazen Squirrel digging away beside the salvia plants at the corner of the flower beds. The bright red spiky flowers jutted straight up, proclaiming their presence. Brazen ignored the flowers. He was searching for any nuts or seeds he'd neglected to dig up last winter. So far, Kelly noticed the busy little creature was coming up empty-pawed. Nothing. No seeds or nuts to be found.

The loud sound of a truck horn blaring on the busy street running between the shop and the Big Box shopping center caused Carl to raise his head briefly. Brazen quickly froze in place, squirrely attention fixed on Big Dog. Carl's head plopped down onto the grass again with a big doggie sigh.
All is well.
Nap time called again.

“It sure is. It's amazing to see that empty crossroads come to life. There's a gas station on the northwest corner already, so that investor will be getting in early. What's he putting up?”

“He hinted it was a franchise of a major national fast-food chain. But he knows he'll need that corporate approval before he moves forward. So keep your fingers crossed.”

“Will do.” Kelly heard the telltale sound of another phone call coming in. “And I'll send those interim statements later this morning. I want to look at them again.”

“Thanks, Kelly. Talk to you later.” Don Warner's phone had also sounded with an incoming call. It was a busy morning.

Kelly saw Burt's name flashing on her phone screen and clicked on. “Hey, Burt. Are you out doing errands already?”

“I sure am. Finished two stores and I'm getting gas right
now. I wondered if you'd be at the shop later? I wanted to update you on what I've heard from Dan.”

Kelly swished the last of the coffee in her mug. “Did Dan say how Tommy's questioning went?”

“I don't want to say more because I'm here at the gas pump, but I'll be back at the shop in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Look for me in the main room. See you.” Kelly clicked off and shoved the phone into her summer pants pocket then went to the kitchen. She drained the last of the coffeepot into her carryout mug, then gathered her laptop and files and shoved them into her over-the-shoulder briefcase. Glancing once more into the backyard, Kelly spied Carl's two big water dishes and saw that they were full. Big Dog was still asleep, and Brazen was skittering across the grass to the bushes along the side of the chain-link fence.

The summer morning was progressing on schedule, she thought as she headed for the front door of her cottage. Time to check those interim July statements. Working in Lambspun's main room and air-conditioning was a lot more comfortable in July.

•   •   •

“Hey,
there, Kelly.”

Kelly looked up at the sound of her name being called. “Hi, Burt, how're you doing?” She pushed her laptop computer to the side and settled into her chair at Lambspun's large knitting table.

Burt walked over and settled into the chair beside her. “I'm doing well,” Burt said, his familiar smile missing. He
folded his arms on the table and leaned closer to Kelly. “I'm glad there's no one else at the table, so they won't overhear. Gossip spreads in this town too fast as it is.”

“Especially at the university, from what I hear,” Kelly added and leaned closer to him.

Burt nodded. “I heard from Dan again and he said Tommy did not hold up well when he was questioned for the second time this morning. Apparently he stammered and repeated himself, couldn't finish sentences, and was clearly nervous trying to explain why he was at home studying that night.”

Kelly shook her head. She had a bad feeling about this. “Not good. Not good at all.”

“That's for sure. Dan was surprised and said Tommy actually looked frightened at times. Needless to say, Tommy's behavior definitely raised Dan's suspicions.”

“Naturally.” Kelly took a deep drink of her coffee. This was depressing news to hear. A stray memory poked up its head. “You know, I think I recall Barb saying that Tommy didn't hold up well three years ago when he was a suspect in his former girlfriend's murder. One of those detectives said he looked scared to death. Maybe Tommy has a pathological fear of police in uniforms or something.”

Burt frowned. “Or something. But a detective can't help but wonder why Tommy looked so scared if he was innocent of Laura Brewster's murder. It raises my suspicions, too.”

Kelly considered Burt's statement. Burt had known Tommy since he was a child and had vouched for Tommy's character three years ago as well as now. If Burt was having second thoughts, that gave Kelly pause.

“Especially now that the medical examiner has found traces of rubbing alcohol on Laura's neck,” Burt continued. “All over her neck. Like someone was trying to remove any trace of fingerprints. So Dan and the other detectives think that finding indicates the killer was someone who knew about medicine or worked at hospitals. Someone like that would think of cleaning prints off the victim's neck.”

Kelly stared into Burt's eyes and saw the suspicions there. The same suspicions that rose inside her now. “And that points a big red arrow at Tommy.”

Burt nodded gravely. “It sure does.”

Kelly looked out into the adjoining central yarn room. Only one customer was browsing the yarn bins. “Poor Barb. This news is definitely going to hit her hard. Are you going to tell her?”

Burt sighed. “I really don't want to be the one to tell her. Hopefully, Tommy will tell his mom.”

The jingle of the shop front doorbell and the quick tap of footsteps sounded. Walking fast. Suddenly Barb charged into the main room. “Burt! I need to speak with you. I just heard from Tommy this morning, and he told me that a detective questioned him.
Again!
”

Barb's face was no longer flushed, but was pale, as if the blood had drained out of it. Kelly immediately pushed back her chair. “Here, Barb. Take my chair. I'm going to get more coffee.”

“Thank you, Kelly.” Barb looked at Kelly with a grateful expression. “It won't take long.”

“You take as long as you need, Barb,” Kelly reassured her, then she gave Barb's arm a pat. A Mother Mimi pat.

•   •   •

“Okay,
a peppermint mocha with extra syrup,” Kelly announced as she placed the specialty latte in front of the slender young woman seated on the other side of the outdoor café table.

Kelly chose one of the plaza tables that was slightly separated from the others in the expansive university plaza area. Students were everywhere. Walking back and forth from the two-story Student Union building, striding toward the various multistoried university buildings which held classrooms, sitting at tables talking to fellow students, slouched or stretched out on benches or on the concrete, dozing between classes. College students' habits hadn't changed that much over the years, Kelly noticed.

“Thanks a lot,” Nancy Marsted said, smiling up at Kelly. Her light brown hair curled softly around her face and made her look younger than most of the other students.

“You're welcome,” Kelly replied, settling into a chair on the opposite side of the table. “You're already in grad school, right?”

“Yes, I'm in my first year of grad school.” Nancy took a sip of the sugary drink. She closed her eyes, obviously savoring, then looked up at Kelly. “So, you're thinking of taking that anatomy class?”

“Actually, I'm not going to take the class. But I know a student who did. Sandy Atkinson. Did you know her?”

Nancy shook her head before taking another sip of the latte. “No, that name isn't familiar.”

Kelly continued. “Well, Sandy also knew another student
in class who apparently indicated you were a friend of hers. Her name was Laura Brewster. Do you remember her?”

Nancy Marsted's brown eyes widened in obvious surprise, then a wary expression appeared. “I wouldn't say I was a friend of Laura's. More like an acquaintance. We went to the same high school and shared a college dorm room briefly. Why do you ask?”

Kelly decided to be completely honest. Hopefully, Nancy Marsted would respond in kind. It all depended on how close a friendship she'd shared with Laura Brewster. “To be totally honest, I'm trying to find out what I can about Laura Brewster. What kind of person she was—”

“What does it matter?” Nancy blurted. “You know she was the student who was killed in her campus apartment a couple of weeks ago, don't you? It no longer matters what kind of person she was.”

Kelly chose her words carefully. “Actually, it does. A week before she died, she accused a friend's son who's a young medical doctor of sexual assault in his office.”

Nancy Marsted's expression quickly changed. Kelly watched surprise replace the wariness. Then she closed her eyes and a different expression claimed her face. “Oh, God. Not again.”

Kelly sat up straighter at that. “You're referring to Laura Brewster's sexual assault charge against Professor Paul Smith, aren't you?” Kelly asked quietly. The noise of passing students provided more than enough conversational privacy.

Nancy looked up at Kelly. “Yes. I was taking the same class with Laura that semester. It was the year we roomed
together. I still remember how she acted after she'd gotten the exam papers back and Laura saw her grade.” She closed her eyes. “I'd seen that look on her face before. Pure anger. She was enraged. She started pacing around the apartment, back and forth, mumbling to herself. I'd recognized that look before.”

Kelly's buzzer went off. “Again? She'd gotten that mad before? Over what?”

“Oh, yes, several times,” Nancy said with a weary sigh. “Over all sorts of things she considered slights or insults or instances when she didn't think she was being treated fairly in a class. Laura had come from a tough family life, and a college education was her way out. So grades were super important.”

“How long would she stay mad?”

“Ohhh, the angry pacing and mumbling would go on for an hour or so, then she'd get real quiet. And she'd sit and stare out the windows and not say a word. That's when I knew someone was about to get payback.”

“Payback? What do you mean?”

Nancy looked Kelly directly into her eyes. “Revenge. Laura was a master. She would choose the perfect payback for the guilty party. For instance, one professor was bragging about his new red sports car. So, when he gave Laura a lower grade in that biology class we were taking, she found out which car was his and went out late at night and keyed it on both sides. Really deep, she said.” Nancy shook her head. “She'd checked the professor's schedule to find out which night he taught late and went out then.”

“Wow, that was really mean,” Kelly said, amazed at
Laura's brazenly vicious behavior. “She told you every time she did something?”

Nancy closed her eyes again. “Ohhhhh, yes. Once I saw what kind of person I was rooming with that year, I figured I'd better stay on Laura's good side or she might start taking things out on me. Or things would start disappearing. I'd seen her bring home things she'd swiped from other students over petty little disagreements. A pretty scarf. A paperback book. Little things. So to protect myself, I'd say things like, ‘Well, that'll show them,' whenever she'd tell me how she had gotten revenge on someone. That's what she liked to call it. Laura believed she was righting the scales of justice every time she exacted revenge. She got really energized from it. And since I had to stay in that housing contract with her until the end of the academic year, I decided to play it safe and stay out of her line of fire.” She shook her head again. “I had only known her casually in high school, so I thought it would be okay to room with her that year. Boy, was I wrong.”