Purl Up and Die (20 page)

“That's definitely an issue that leads to these incidents. Someone enters an apartment through an open or unlocked door while the resident is drunk—”

“Or, asleep.”

“Do you think that's what happened in this instance? I mean, with this girl who was murdered?”

“I think it's entirely possible,” the woman beside Kelly added.

Kelly listened to all the comments swirling around the knitting table and decided she might as well add her two
cents. “I agree. I've always thought it was possible that Laura Brewster was killed by some violent intruder. For all the reasons you folks have just mentioned.” She picked up the stitches where she left off. Only a couple more rows and she could start binding off.

“That's entirely possible.”

“What do you think, Barb?” the older knitter beside her asked. “Do you think it was some violent intruder like Kelly said who killed Laura Brewster?”

Barb didn't look up, just kept knitting her neat perfect rows of stitches as she spoke. “Yes, I think it's definitely possible that some intruder was responsible. All I know is Tommy didn't kill that evil girl.”

Kelly looked up from her knitting. Barb's cold voice brought a chill to those words. No doubt everyone at the table felt it as well, because a silence enveloped the entire room now.

•   •   •

“Hey,
Kelly!”

Kelly swiftly turned around and scanned the café patio garden at the sound of Megan's voice. She spotted her friend hopping along the flagstones, heading her way.

“I'm glad you're still here,” Megan said as she rushed up to Kelly's table. “Would you and Steve like to buy some raffle tickets for charity? My business group is raising money for the Food Bank of Northern Colorado.” Megan plopped her knitting bag onto the wrought iron table and dug inside.

“Sure thing. That's one of my favorite local charities,” Kelly said, reaching into her briefcase bag on the ground beside her chair. “How much?”

“We're selling them for a dollar each, but most people are buying several.” Megan grinned and waved her fistful of tickets.

Kelly laughed. “I'll take that as a hint. Here's twenty dollars. That'll be ten for Steve and ten for me.”

“Thank you, thank you,” Megan said. “I appreciate it more than you know. I had them shoved in the bottom of my bag here and completely forgot about them. Then I got a phone call from the organizer this morning reminding me I had to turn in the money tomorrow at our luncheon! I've been in a panic ever since. I'll be hitting up teammates and families on the bleachers,” Megan said, breathless, as she tore off the tickets and handed them over to Kelly.

“I can see that. Why don't you sit down and knit a little while? Get your equilibrium back.” Kelly pushed one of the chairs toward Megan. “I was finishing up this last expense account, so why don't you catch me up on your clients. I haven't heard a rant for a while. Don't tell me they're all behaving themselves.” Kelly closed off her spreadsheets and shut down her laptop.

“Most of them are, but there's always one who refuses to get his stuff to me in a timely manner, shall we say?” Megan said as she settled into the chair.

“Ohhhhh, yes. I can definitely relate to that,” Kelly said, reaching into her bag and bringing out the knitted summer top she was finishing. She was in the midst of binding off the bottom stitches.

“This guy has only been with me six months, so I don't have him fully trained yet,” Megan said as she pulled out a shamrock green sleeveless top she was knitting. Megan could finish three items in the time it took Kelly to produce one. Amazing.

Kelly snickered. “Fully trained. I love it.”

“Everything he wants is a super rush. Expedited.” She made a disgusted face. “When it happened last month, I had just had another client shift his schedule around. So that freed up some time to take care of Late Guy. And I warned him that I couldn't always get his stuff done at the last moment.” She shrugged as stitches formed on her needles. “I guess he didn't believe me. Because he called this morning, all in a panic. He needed this project done today, absolutely positively. And I had to tell him that I would not be able to get his request done today. I already had two other clients' projects that I was finishing and they were due today as well. And both of them had planned ahead and gotten on my
schedule
.” She emphasized the last word.

“How'd he handle it?” Kelly asked, slipping another bound-off stitch from her needles.

“Not well. He got all hyper. His voice went up an octave, I swear. But I talked him down off the ledge. Promised him I could do it tomorrow. And he promised he'd get on the schedule on time next month.” She looked up at Kelly with a crooked smile. “We'll see.”

Kelly chuckled, picturing Take-No-Prisoners Megan soothing her client in her own inimitable fashion. Glancing over toward the driveway, she spotted Lisa. “Lisa! We're over here.” She waved, then beckoned her friend.

“Well, perfect timing,” Lisa said, smiling. “We're all so busy lately it's been hard to find a time when we can sit and knit for a few minutes.” She pulled out a chair between Kelly and Megan.

“How come you're finished at the clinic early?” Kelly looked at her watch. “Normally you're booked solid, Cassie says.”

Lisa dug into her large felted knitting bag and pulled out the lacy knit lemon yellow top. It looked almost finished to Kelly. “One client called in sick an hour ago. And another client called right after that and changed his appointment. He'd forgotten he had another appointment scheduled somewhere else.” She gave a dramatic sigh. “So, I decided to grab this unexpected gift of free time and come over here and visit for a few minutes.”

“Megan was entertaining me with her naughty-client story. She has one who isn't ‘fully trained' yet, as she put it.” Kelly gave Megan a wicked grin.

“It's my newer guy. Swears he'll get his stuff in on time the next month, then calls in at the last minute and begs me to help him. This month his luck and my patience ran out. I had to tell him he'd have to wait behind my other clients. Much wailing and complaining.” Megan's needles seemed to move even faster with her description.

“Oh, yes. Some clients simply refuse to conform. Obedience is simply not in their DNA. They'll do the normal things like pay their taxes and their rent on time, show up at their jobs on time, but they will rebel by being late to everything else. Social occasions, clubs, meeting friends, and especially appointments.” She looked over at them with a
weary expression. “Some clients are so bad, they've lost their appointment slots entirely. The clinic has a strict schedule and we have to stick to it. So, those always-late patients mess themselves up. All our PTs are so booked, a patient may have to wait over a week to get a missed appointment rebooked. Believe me, most of them only show up late once.”

“Your mention of DNA reminds me,” Kelly said. “I spoke with Burt earlier today and he said the DNA tests came in at the crime lab and Professor Smith had no matches. So he is completely off the police radar screen. Unfortunately, Tommy had some markers that were similar to the sample found under the victim's nails. Not a match, but some similar markers.”

Both Lisa and Megan stopped knitting and looked up at Kelly, clearly surprised. “Oh, no,” was all Megan said.

“How can there be no match but still have some similar markers?” Lisa asked, puzzled.

“I have no idea. That's all Burt learned from Dan. Oh, and detectives asked Tommy for another DNA sample to do another test. Whatever. It doesn't sound good.”

Kelly glanced at both her close friends and saw the same feelings on their faces that she felt inside. Not good. Not good at
all.

Saturday afternoon

“Mimi,
is it all right if I settle into this corner and work?” Kelly asked as she walked into the front room. “Rosa has a beginning knitter's class going in the main room and the workroom is full of spinners.”

“Sure, Kelly,” Mimi said, looking up from the cash register. “The shop is pretty busy this afternoon.”

“It's surprising for a late July day,” said the customer who was standing at the counter, a skein of fire-engine red yarn in her hands along with a set of knitting needles and a familiar yarn instruction book.

Kelly glanced outside to the gray clouds gathering over the golf course, even darker ones hovering over the foothills. No sunshine to be seen. “Well, it's the very end of July. Still monsoon season. So, more rainstorms will feel good if we get them.”

The middle-aged customer standing at the counter turned to Kelly with a puzzled look. “Monsoons? Don't they happen in India?”

Mimi laughed lightly. “Yes, they do. But monsoons also happen in other areas of the world. If the ocean temperatures are warm enough and the air currents are moving in the right direction, they will bring torrents of rain sweeping from the Pacific, over Mexico, and up through Arizona, New Mexico, and Colorado.”

“Really?” The woman looked shocked to learn that. “Every year?”

“Just about. Usually in late July but they can show up earlier or later in summer.”

“She's right,” Kelly said from her spot in the comfy corner chair.

She was about to pop open her laptop when another woman stepped down into the front room of the shop. A large tapestry knitting bag over her arm, the middle-aged brunette woman paused to stroke a finely woven shawl that was draped along the wall beside Kelly. Kelly thought she recognized the woman from Barb's advanced knitting class session yesterday.

The woman fondled another woven item displayed, then glanced toward Kelly's corner. “Hi, there, Kelly. It looks like you've found a perfect spot to work.”

“It sure is. I squirrel in here whenever those monsoon clouds appear.”

“‘Squirrel in.' I love it,” the woman said, smiling.

“I don't want to be stuck in the cottage during a
drenching monsoon.” Kelly gestured to the large window beside her looking out toward the driveway. Her cottage was visible in the back. “I left the patio screen door open enough so my dog Carl could escape inside if thunder rumbles. You know how dogs hate thunder and lightning.”

“I know what you mean. My cocker spaniel hides under my bed whenever there's a thunderstorm.” Her smile left, and she glanced to the side. “That was a sobering session we had yesterday, wasn't it? I mean the one around the knitting table with Barb.”

“Ohhhhh, yeah,” Kelly said, nodding. “I have to admit, it left me feeling depressed.”

The woman walked over closer to Kelly. “I know what you mean,” she said, her voice lowered. “This whole situation is depressing. To think that a young man who worked so hard to become a doctor and save lives may be guilty of actually taking a life. That's more than I care to think about. And I can see what it's doing to Barb. I'm worried about her.”

Kelly closed her laptop and pushed it beside her in the chair. “I'm sorry, but I forgot your name.”

The woman's smile returned. “I'm Patty. I've been taking Mimi's and Rosa's classes here at Lambspun for maybe four years now. And I've seen you in the shop off and on. Sitting in on Mimi's classes. We were actually in a felting class together years ago. It was up in the mountains, remember?”

The image of the beautiful mountain lodge where Kelly and friends and other class members had stayed radiated in
her mind. “Yes! That was wonderful, wasn't it? What a picturesque setting up there at the lodge.”

“Oh, it was glorious. One of the best mountain getaways I've ever taken.” Patty pulled out the metal chair at the nearby winding table.

Once Patty had settled, Kelly leaned forward, lowering her voice as well. “What did you mean when you said you've been worried about Barb? Has all this stress over Tommy and the allegations caused health problems?”

Patty shook her head. “No, no physical changes that I'm aware of. And Barb and I have been friends since forever. So we talk regularly. We've known each other for years. We're the same age. Her son Tommy played with my two boys Brian and Donald. We're even in the same bridge group.” Patty smiled. “What I meant was I'm worried that she's been under a heckuva lot of stress these past couple of years. First, with that guy who swindled her family. And she was under suspicion for his death, remember? And now, all this with Tommy.”

Kelly watched Patty's face as she recounted the shocks that Big Barb had undergone these past two years. Kelly remembered every one, having been right in the middle of it all. Sleuthing around. “You obviously know Barb a whole lot better than I do. Have you seen changes? Clearly, something is worrying you.”

Patty looked toward the windows again, as if gathering her thoughts. “It's little things. She seems short-tempered more often. And distracted. Sometimes I'll be talking to her and ask her a question, and she'll look at me, kind of startled. She hadn't heard a word I've said. And, she's forgetting
things. Like our bridge club a few weeks ago. She's never missed our monthly bridge club. Heck, I remember her coming in one time wearing a white nose-and-mouth mask that you get at the hospital. She had a bad cough and didn't want to spread the germs. But she wasn't going to miss a class.” Patty gave a little laugh.

“I have to admit, that is quite a litany. I was here to witness it all, but hearing you go through it like that . . . well, it does give you pause,” Kelly said.

“Doesn't it, now? And I'm not the only one. Another friend, Susan, the weaver who usually comes in on Saturdays to weave? Well, she's worried, too. And she's known Barb longer than I have. Since she and Barb were little kids here in Fort Connor.”

Kelly sought to recall the face of that weaver. So many knitters, spinners, weavers thronged to Lambspun. “Does she have straight gray hair, shoulder length, kind of?”

“Yes, that's Susan. I knew you'd seen her. Anyway, we were both concerned when Barb didn't show up for bridge club three weeks ago. Susan told me later that she'd actually driven over to Barb's house to see if she was all right.”

Kelly smiled. “Susan definitely sounds like a good friend. I take it Barb was okay. Maybe not feeling good or something. Maybe coming down with a flu?”

Patty shrugged. “No. Susan told me when she drove over to Barb's house, the lights were on, but Barb wasn't there. And her car was gone. That's really unusual. Barb usually keeps regular hours.”

Kelly's smile disappeared. Instead, her little buzzer went off inside. “That
is
strange. Did you see Barb the next day or something? Was she all right?”

“Susan told me she called Barb that next day and said Barb was all right. Said she was out, that's all.”

Kelly felt her little buzzer again. But what was it buzzing about? Just because Barb broke from her usual schedule? Everyone does that from time to time. Her buzzer quieted down a bit. “Well, I can understand why you two were worried. But it sounds like Barb just got off schedule. Everybody does, you know.” She gave Patty a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, that's what we figure. But I still notice how distracted Barb has been lately, and I figure it's stress.” Patty glanced toward Mimi, who was passing by them, several magazines in her hands. “Mimi, haven't you noticed that Barb's more distracted lately?” she asked over her shoulder.

Mimi glanced toward them both, clearly surprised by the question. “Distracted? Now that you mention it, I have noticed that. Barb's not her old hard-charging self.” Mimi's expression changed to concern. “You know her, Patty. Is she having a health issue?”

“Not that I know of, Mimi,” Patty replied. “I was just telling Kelly that these past two years have been pretty stressful for Barb. I guess it's just now taking a toll.”

Mimi's blue eyes went wide. “Oh, my goodness, yes!” Mimi rolled her eyes and continued up the steps to the loom room, magazines in hand.

“I guess that about sums it up,” Patty said with a rueful smile. “Speaking of schedules, I guess I'd better get back on mine before I get behind.”

“I know what you mean, Patty,” Kelly agreed as she pulled her laptop onto her lap once more. “Time to get back to those pesky client accounts.”

“Keeping track of the money, right, Kelly?” Patty said as she rose from the chair.

“Oh, yes. Someone has to make sure those dollars stay where they're supposed to,” Kelly said as she popped her laptop open. Spreadsheets were calling.

The next morning

“I'm meeting with a lumber supplier at four this afternoon, but I should be finished by five,” Steve said over the phone.

Kelly held her cell phone with one hand while she tried to open the front door of Lambspun with the other—while holding her coffee mug at the same time. “Okay. I'll pick up something from that new place on the corner of College and Jefferson. That way we can eat before heading for the ball fields.”

“Sounds good. See you later. Love you,” Steve added.

“Love you, too,” Kelly echoed as she hooked one finger around the door handle and yanked it open. She clicked off and dropped her phone into her over-the-shoulder briefcase.

The Lambspun foyer was empty and the shop was quiet. Summer-morning quiet. It was now August. Vacation month for most families, if they hadn't already had their family escapes before.

Colorado schools finished at the end of May, so all students were free to head on family vacations, summer resident camps, or the many sports camps hosted by the university during the summer months. The university's grounds and facilities were extensive enough to host several different kinds of summer camp experiences as well as a dizzying variety of educational and recreational retreats and workshops.

Soccer players would spread across the athletic fields and into the various gyms dotted around campus, while church groups would fill the auditoriums and lecture halls to hear speakers and gather for discussion groups. Motivational workshops would alternate with those on meditation, and charitable organizations would mingle with chamber of commerce executives. The great melting pots were the different dining halls scattered around campus in the dormitories, Student Union, and various cafés dotting the campus. Everyone all mixed together.

Kelly walked slowly through the central yarn room, fingering some of the yarns. There was a striking combination of colors in a skein of raw silk fiber from India. She hadn't noticed that one before. A slight movement from the main room caught her eye, and Kelly turned to glimpse Barb at the end of the library table. However, instead of knitting on the lavender-colored sweater that gathered in her lap, Barb was staring to the side into the alcove. No one else was to be seen.

Curious as to her friend's mood, Kelly fixed a bright smile on her face as she entered the room. “Hi, Barb, how're you today?”

Barb jumped as if startled, and stared at Kelly for a second. “Uhhh . . . I'm okay.” Picking up her stitches on the sweater in her lap, Barb resumed knitting.

Kelly set her briefcase bag on the table, pulled out her laptop computer, and settled into a chair along the side. Since Barb hadn't ventured any other comments, Kelly decided to see if she could start a conversation, even if one-sided. “I've bound off that cotton top I've been working on. Now I'm wondering what project to start next,” she said, expecting Barb to jump in with suggested projects.

Instead of her usual helpful or instructive comments, however, Barb made no reply at all. She concentrated on her knitting, her hands swiftly moving through the motions. Wondering at Barb's sudden attack of quiet, Kelly sought for some subject she might suggest that could provoke a reply.

Just then Mimi stepped into the room. “Barb, the workroom is clear for your class today. Could you move in there now, if you don't mind? I'm expecting some visitors to the shop pretty soon. So they'll be all over this room.”

Again, Barb looked up as if startled, blinked at Mimi, then answered. “Certainly, Mimi. That's not a problem at all.” With that, Barb gathered her knitting with one hand and snatched her tapestry bag with the other and walked out of the main room into the adjoining workroom. Mimi simply stared after her.

Kelly couldn't hold back. She gestured to catch Mimi's attention. “Now I know what you mean about distracted,” she said in a soft voice. “I tried talking to Barb but it was like she didn't even hear me. As if I wasn't even there.”

Mimi looked at Kelly, concern written all over her face. “I know. I'm starting to worry about her, and so is Burt.”

The front doorbell jingled, and the sound of people talking in the foyer floated into the main room. Mimi's visitors had obviously arrived. “Looks like they're already here, Mimi. I'll get out of their way, too.”

“Thanks, Kelly, I appreciate it. There's space up front if you want,” Mimi said before walking toward the foyer.

Kelly shoved the laptop back into the briefcase bag, gathered her coffee mug, and evacuated the room as well. Heading through the central yarn room, she noticed four women excitedly touching and examining yarns in the foyer. Mimi was smiling and talking.

Walking into the loom room, Kelly noticed an older woman setting up at the Mother Loom. Straight cut, shoulder-length gray hair, Kelly recognized the woman from previous visits to Lambspun. “Hi, there, you must be Susan,” Kelly said, smiling as she paused at the loom. “I was talking with your friend Patty today. She and I have shared some workshops.”

“Oh, hey, Kelly,” Susan said with a friendly smile. “Yes, Patty started taking classes here about four years ago. Of course, I've been showing up from the time Mimi opened her first little shop in Old Town.”