Purl Up and Die (3 page)

Cassie suddenly appeared around the corner, can of soda in her hand. “Hey, Kelly! Are you ready for that big Greeley game?”

Kelly quickly focused on the slender young girl, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She could really see the jump in height. Cassie was much taller now. “I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I guess.” Kelly smiled back at Cassie. “Are you ready for your game? You're playing a Loveland middle school, I think.”

Cassie took a sip of soda. “Yep, we're playing Loveland Central. Then my friends and I will come over to your game and watch you guys.” She straddled a chair backward in the way Jayleen Swinson did. Kelly figured Cassie had picked that up from one of her adopted grandmothers.

Barb swiped her face again and rose from the table. “Well, I'd better get ready for my class. I'll talk to you later.”

Mimi rose as well. “I'll help you set up, Barb.” She glanced back at Cassie. “Did you have fun at Greg's lab, dear?”

“Oh, yes! The geeks had a new project they're working on so they were explaining it to me. Greg also showed me some of the newest computer chips.” Her big blue eyes grew even larger with delight. “It was
awesome
!”

“Take care, Barb,” Kelly said, watching Barb head for the doorway.

Barb nodded but didn't say anything as she followed Mimi into the workroom. Kelly noticed Cassie staring after them.

“Is she okay? It looked like Barb was crying,” Cassie asked, smile gone from her youthful face.

Kelly sought for an answer a young teenager would understand. “Barb's had kind of a rough day. A really rough day.”

Cassie pondered that then nodded. “Kind of like when we lost that close game to Lafayette.”

“Yeah, like that,” Kelly nodded. “But worse. Now, tell me, are you and the team ready for that Loveland batting lineup? As I recall, they were really good last fall when your middle school played them.”

Cassie took a sip of her soda and smiled at Kelly. “Oh, yeah. We're gonna take 'em. You watch.”

Kelly chuckled. The sound of Youthful Confidence. You had to love it.

•   •   •

“Wow,
that is serious stuff,” Steve said, reaching for another piece of barbecued chicken.

“It is, indeed,” Marty said, following suit and stretching toward the metal café table and the platter stacked with chicken.

Kelly tipped back her bottle of Fat Tire ale and relaxed in the wrought iron chair at their favorite café in Fort Connor's Old Town plaza. After all the congratulations to Steve and the accompanying lifting of beer mugs, bottles, and soda cans in salute, Kelly ventured into a more serious subject. The normal postgame conversation became considerably subdued when she described the situation Barb had related earlier in the afternoon.

“It sounds like a ‘she said, he said' situation,” Greg offered as he snagged a larger piece of chicken.

Megan dipped her chicken morsel in the spicy sauce sitting open on the table. “I've never met Tommy but all I've heard are good things. You know . . . worked as a paramedic, got accepted for med school, worked hard, and is now a doctor. Sounds like a homegrown success story.”

“I have met him and Tommy comes across exactly the way you described him. Workaholic and high achiever. I just don't see him as someone who'd make a move like that.” Kelly reached for one of the fast-disappearing BBQ chicken pieces.

“Well, I've been on the other side of that situation,” Lisa said. “No one has ever tried it with me—”

“Because you'd give him a fist in the ribs, right?” Greg probed.

Lisa gave him a patient look. “No . . .”

“Knee to the groin?”

“No, I—”

“Well, put those on your to-do list,” Greg decreed, then tipped back his bottle of craft brew.

Lisa rolled her eyes. “I was about to make a different point. I've been around girls and women who have been in the situation of being groped. And there's no ‘type' of guy who does it. And they're not drunk at a bar, either. It can happen in offices, all kinds of places. So, I'll reserve judgment on Tommy.” Lisa gave a nod of experience and sipped her beer.

Kelly pondered what Lisa said. With her position as a physical therapist, Lisa was exposed to all sorts of patients and people. And with her graduate studies at the university, she was in contact with scores of female students. Lisa had a breadth and depth of experience that the rest of them lacked. Consequently Kelly had to admit Lisa's observation was valid, disconcerting as it was.

“I see your point, Lisa. You're right. None of us knows Tommy that well. So, naturally the police are looking at him exactly the same way. Tommy's story may indeed be true, but there's no way to prove it.”

“Listen, I didn't mean it to come out sounding like a joke, but I was serious,” Greg said, leaning forward and looking at his girlfriend of several years. “One of the grad students who worked in our lab a couple of years ago was
complaining about being groped at a party. And she was really mad that she didn't say anything at the time, like ‘Watch it, dude!' or ‘Back off!' The guys and I told her to call 'em on it if a guy tries that.”

“Yeah, but that's kind of hard if you're in a place where you don't expect it. Like a doctor's office,” Megan added.

“Excellent point,” Steve said, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the last pieces of chicken.

“Whether Tommy is innocent as a lamb or a guilty troll, tell me what happens next, Marty?” Kelly asked, turning her empty Fat Tire bottle on the chair arm.

“It sounds like the woman filed an official complaint, and the police followed up on it. They questioned the man who was accused of assault, as well as the alleged assault victim. Now, the police will make a report of their investigation and file that. The next move will be up to the woman. If she presses charges, then Tommy will definitely need a lawyer because he may be headed for a trial. The court will decide how to handle it. So, it all depends on what the woman decides to do.”

“Wow. Being charged with sexual assault with a patient could really jeopardize Tommy's medical career.” Megan toyed with the chicken tidbit.

“Even if Tommy's not officially charged with assault, there would still be a police record on file. And you're right. That could definitely damage his medical career. This is a patient that accused him. Not good,” Kelly said.

“Okay, we agree that is one bad situation. But there's nothing any of us can do. So, personally, I'd like to change
the subject back to Steve's good news. So we can finish off the evening feeling a whole lot better than we do now.”

Kelly grinned at Greg. “Wow, sleeping with a psych major really has rubbed off on you. That was positively therapeutic advice.”

Greg extended his hands, palms up, in a “but of course” gesture.

“The doctor is in,” Steve joked before draining his favorite ale. Laughter floated into the summer night
air.

Wednesday morning

“He's
just pretending to fall, Carl,” Kelly called to her Rottweiler in the backyard of her cottage. “He'll take off once you get close.”

As usual, Carl ignored her as he raced toward the chain fence, barking furiously. He'd paused for a head and ear rub and stopped paying attention to Patrol Duty. Brazen Squirrel, the ever-observant, ever-ready little creature that he was, had taken advantage of Carl's lapse in attention. Now, Brazen was racing along the top rail of the chain-link fence, nut in his mouth, almost at the low-hanging branch of the huge cottonwood tree. Only a few feet outside the fence, the cottonwood shaded most of Kelly's backyard. It also offered refuge for weary golfers who were searching the edge of the golf course for their stray balls.

The very second Carl charged the fence where Brazen was
running, the little rodent leaped for the cottonwood branch. Piece of cake. Kelly observed the familiar drama. Yet another easy squirrel escape, eluding Big Dog once again. Carl, for his part, was barking his angry accusations and venting his frustration.
Curses!
Foiled again!
Kelly laughed softly. No matter how many times she watched this familiar backyard drama, it still amused her. It was like one of those daytime television dramas, minus the romance.

Glancing over the golf course expanse of green, Kelly spotted a few sun-resistant golfers. Playing their rounds, no matter the hot July sun. Compared to last June and the Wildfire Summer, these July temps were normal. High nineties and creeping into a one hundred reading once or twice. Normal for a Northern Colorado July summer. Still, Kelly had to wonder at the golfers who were out on the links. Most wore small hats with brims in the front. Or those cloth hats that had droopy brims all around.

She didn't think either of those hats would pass muster with her dermatologist. She'd advised Kelly to wear a bigger sun hat with a wide-drooping brim whenever she was outside in sunny, mile-high Fort Connor. A mile closer to the sun, Dr. Hayes always reminded. And her constant mantra: “Never leave the house without sunscreen.” Kelly had vowed to try. So far, she had a fifty-fifty track record, but it was a beginning.

“Keep those squirrels in line, Carl,” she called to her dog as she slid the patio screen door shut. Carl lifted his head briefly then returned to sniffing all traces of squirrel feet on the morning grass along the fence. Wait . . . was that a raccoon?

Lifting her briefcase bag with laptop over her shoulder, Kelly drained the last of her morning batch of coffee into her mug and headed out the cozy cottage front door. She spotted Burt Parker across the driveway separating her cottage and the Lambspun knitting shop. Kelly called to him and waved. “Hey, Burt!”

Retired Fort Connor police detective Burt turned at the sound of his name and waved back. “Hey, Kelly. Got time for coffee?”

“With you, Burt, always,” Kelly said as she sped around the wrought iron fence to the gate.

Burt had already chosen a table in the shady part of the garden, so Kelly headed straight for it. She noticed most of the outside tables were full this gorgeous July morning. Without even going inside, Kelly knew the inside café was packed at this midmorning breakfast hour.

She plopped her bag onto the ground and settled into a chair across from Burt. “I see you've already got a start on the coffee break. Man after my own heart.” Kelly took a big sip from her oversize mug.

Burt's weathered face crinkled with his familiar smile. A fatherly smile. “Right about that, Kelly. How'd that game go last night? I was still in Denver. Mimi's looking at two different suppliers of looms and wanted me to go take photos and ask questions of the craftsmen.”

“We lost, but just barely. Only two points. So I think we're inching up on them.” She gave a shrug.

“Next time, right?” Burt said in his encouraging way.

Julie hastened up to them then, notepad in one hand, coffeepot in the other. “Morning, guys,” she said, swiftly
refilling both Burt's and Kelly's mugs. “Isn't it beautiful today? The heat won't rise for a couple hours, so it's positively balmy.” Julie glanced toward the golf course.

“It's gorgeous, all right,” Kelly agreed, watching Julie's attention. “Are you a golfer, Julie? Have you ever golfed?”

Julie returned her attention. “Lord, no. I could hit the ball, but then I'd spend hours trying to find it. Just like those poor folks over there.” She pointed toward the greens.

Kelly looked and saw yet another couple of golfers walking about the edges of the course, staring at the ground. Meanwhile she could hear Carl barking in the backyard. “I agree, Julie. My balls would be all over the place. Plus, I'm not sure I'd be able to hit anything that small. I'm used to softballs and tennis balls. And both those sports are confined to certain playing areas. Golf courses, on the other hand, are big. You could spend hours covering all that ground. I don't have that kind of time.”

“Me, either,” Julie decreed. “Now, what would you two like?”

“I'll have one scrambled egg, one strip of bacon, and one small pancake. And coffee,” Burt replied.

“Sounds kind of meager, Burt,” Julie observed.

Burt released a long sigh. “Mimi's got me on another diet. She's on it, too. We've both been eating too much over vacation and, I confess, we didn't work out at all.”

“Horrors,” Julie said in pretend shock.

“I know, I know.
Wea culpa
, instead of
mea culpa
. We both are guilty. So now that we're home, we have to get back to our regular routines. Meanwhile, we're cutting back on food for a while.”

“It'll come off once you two start walking again every morning,” Kelly said encouragingly. Burt looked mournful.

“How about you, Kelly?”

Kelly debated. She'd already had a fruit and yogurt that morning. Now she was going to dive into her spreadsheets for the morning. Surely she would need more sustenance than that. Surely.

“I'll have one of Pete's cinnamon rolls, warmed up, please. And coffee, of course.”

“Of course,” Julie said. “Okay, I'll get these orders to Eduardo right away. Might take a few minutes longer than usual. We're pretty full as you can see.”

“Oh, yes, and I love it,” Kelly said. “Small businesses that have become successful make an accountant's heart go pitter-patter.”

Julie laughed then hurried off. Burt sipped from his refilled mug and looked over at Kelly. “Mimi filled me in on the bad news that Barb shared yesterday about Tommy. It's a damn shame. I hate to see something like that damage Tommy's reputation. He's worked so hard to become a doctor. And from people who've been to see him, they've had nothing but praise. Saying he's meticulous and conscientious.” He wagged his head in a manner Kelly had watched for years.

“Marty was walking all of us through the legal details last night. It looks like now that the official police report is filed, then the next move is up to the girl who accused Tommy.”

“Marty's right. If the girl decides to press charges, then the police will have no choice but to officially charge Tommy with sexual assault.”

“Maybe she'll decide not to press charges?” Kelly offered.

Burt shrugged. “Who knows, Kelly? Maybe she won't. We'll all simply have to wait and see.”

Kelly stared out at the golf course again. Fewer golfers there now. Heat was slowly beginning to rise. “Wait and see,” Burt had said. That was going to be hard, especially for Tommy. Wondering what was going to happen to him.

Neither she nor Burt spoke. They simply sat quietly together, gazing out into the beautiful July morning until Julie arrived with their breakfasts.

•   •   •

Kelly
walked into the main knitting room of Lambspun and set up her laptop. She'd worked outside in the shade for an hour until the July heat drove her inside to the shop's air-conditioned surroundings. Thank goodness Colorado had low humidity, so the heat was dry. That was a whole lot more comfortable. Kelly had lived in both the East and the Midwest, and summer heat there was hot, humid, and sticky. Oppressive.

Earlier, Kelly had grabbed a small table in the back of the café until the lunch crush arrived. She'd ordered one of Eduardo's yummy salads for lunch and left the cozy spot as soon as she finished. There was no way an accountant would deprive a small business owner of customer revenue by occupying a table longer than necessary.

Removing file folders from her briefcase bag, Kelly was all set to dive back into her spreadsheets when she heard women's voices coming from the workroom. Several voices, talking at once. Loud voices, too, as if they were arguing.

Is that a class? Whatever in the world is going on?
Checking her watch, Kelly realized that it had to be Barb's class. Curiosity got the better of her, and she left her open laptop and walked toward the workroom. As soon as she entered the room, Kelly could feel the electricity in the air.

Barb's normally quiet intermediate advanced knitting class was no more. Knitting needles and yarns sat on laps and lay forgotten on the nearby worktable. Instead, the students were either sitting and talking animatedly or standing and gesturing and talking. Barb sat quietly at the end of the table, her face flushed, as the women peppered her with questions.

“How can she make a charge like that without . . .” An older woman gestured, obviously searching for a word.

A younger woman sitting next to her filled in the gap. “You mean ‘proof'? There is no proof in a case like that.”

“It's a case of ‘he said, she said,'” a middle-aged woman added.

“That's awful! A wonderful young man . . . a doctor . . . is accused of something like that,” the older woman said, frowning.

“I know,” the younger woman replied. “But the police still have to follow up on the complaint. In other cases the young women are telling the truth. It
does
happen.”

“It happens more than you think,” one of the college-aged girls added.

“Oh, yeah,” the other concurred with a nod. “A couple of years ago I heard about a student accusing one of her professors of sexual assault in his office.”

“Good Lord!” The older woman rolled her eyes.

“What happened?” the middle-aged woman asked.

“There was a lot of gossip around campus. Some students who had the professor in class didn't think he did it. They said he was a good guy.”

“That doesn't count for squat with the police,” the older woman said.

“The professor denied it, if I remember correctly,” the college student continued.

“Was he fired?” the younger woman asked.

“If he had tenure, the university wouldn't be able to fire him,” the middle-aged woman replied.

“What happened? Did the college student ever press charges?” the older woman asked.

“I don't think so, but I'm not sure,” the college student replied. “One of my friends actually had a class with the professor. And I remember her saying he was innocent.”

“How would she know?” the younger woman said.

The college student shrugged. “I don't know. I remember her being upset about it. Apparently she knew the professor and his family.”

Kelly glimpsed Mimi leaning on the doorframe that led to the back-room office and storage area. Clearly Mimi was doing exactly what Kelly was doing—silently watching and listening to the reactions and comments bubbling up from the class. Big Barb sat quietly at the end of the table, not saying a word. Her expression said it all. It was a mixture of sadness and apprehension. The variety of comments surely were a jolt for Barb to listen to. The class spoke bluntly about the situation and their reactions to similar incidents.

Mimi beckoned to Kelly as she stepped farther back into
the office storage area. Kelly quickly edged around the class, which was still animatedly commenting on Tommy's situation, and joined Mimi in the box-filled area. “Well, that was interesting,” Kelly said quietly.

“Oh, my, yes,” Mimi said. “Just listening to those women, all ages, and their comments. They think it's awful what's happened to Tommy, but they talk about other incidents when the young women were telling the truth. It was an education listening to them.” Mimi's worried expression claimed her features now.

“I know. Burt and I had the exact same conversation outside on the patio this morning. Both of us are worried what the young woman will decide to do next. Will she press charges or not?”

“That's what worries me, too. And you can see how poor Barb is holding up.” Mimi pointed toward the workroom outside the office. “Good Lord! I've never seen Barb look so awful. Even last summer when she was a suspect in that awful man's murder.”

Kelly smiled to herself. Mimi had never been able to say the name of the man who had caused so much turmoil and loss in Fort Connor before his death. “I agree. Barb looks like she's been kicked in the stomach. Poor thing. It must be hard for her to hear all the comments from the class. They're speaking the truth. No one will ever know whether Tommy is innocent or guilty. For a devoted mom like Barb, that must be devastating.”

“Burt said almost the same thing.”

An idea came to Kelly then and she pondered it. “You know, I think I'll talk to that student in the class outside
and ask her for her friend's name and e-mail. Maybe I can contact that student and ask her what she remembers. Then maybe Lisa can ask around at the university about that incident with the professor. We can learn what happens in a situation like that.”

“I think that's a good idea, Kelly. Please keep Burt and me informed,” Mimi said, then turned toward a large open box on the floor behind her, one of many. She withdrew three skeins of turquoise yarns.

Kelly thought the twist looked smaller than many wools and reached out to touch them. “Is this wool mixed with . . . mixed with what?”