While My Pretty One Knits (21 page)

Maggie stared at her, then slapped her forehead. “The sweaters…I almost forgot. Walsh asked if I had moved any boxes from the store and I completely forgot to tell him about that one.”

Dana shrugged. “Doesn’t seem to make a difference now. I wouldn’t worry about it—”

“There was something in there that was…odd,” Lucy cut in. “I was wondering if I should tell the police about it. But now that Peter Goran has been charged, it probably doesn’t make any difference.”

They stopped what they were doing and looked over at her.

Suzanne had been putting on her big wool coat and paused midway. “Tell the police? What do you mean?”

Lucy quickly explained how she’d been looking for red wool and finally found some in a patchwork design at the bottom of the box. Then she’d discovered the hidden CD, sandwiched inside the purple knitted squares.

“I put the disk in my computer and the manuscript of Cara’s book came up.” She looked at the others.

“The manuscript of her book? Or a copy of it?” Dana asked.

Lucy shook her head. “Not a copy. It looked like the original manuscript. For one thing, there were still a few typos and when I checked the dates on the files, they were created months before the book was published.”

“What do you think that means?” Suzanne asked. “Was Amanda somehow connected to Cara’s writing?”

“I thought she must be. Maybe as an expert reader? Someone who fact-checks special topics. But it seemed like she’d been making a lot of extra money lately. That type of freelancer doesn’t get paid much,” Lucy explained.

“Especially working on a craft book. And she seemed to have come into some extra money lately, getting her big makeover.”

“So she must have been doing something more than fact-checking. Like maybe writing parts of it?” Dana suggested.

“Possibly. Or supplying designs. I found a posting on the Internet, about a contest she’d won a few years ago. The project was a handbag with felted flowers.”

“Gooseflesh attack,” Phoebe said.

“It’s creepy, isn’t it?” Suzanne agreed.

Maggie hadn’t said anything so far, Lucy noticed. “It’s all pretty confusing.” She let out a sigh, her good mood now dispelled. She seemed disturbed by the idea, Lucy thought. “That would mean Cara’s work isn’t original,” she said finally.

No one answered. They glanced at one another. Lucy had brought this skunk to the garden party and felt she should say something now, but didn’t know what.

Maggie felt a strong bond with Cara and took pride in her success. Hearing Cara wasn’t what she appeared to be was a disappointment. That was understandable. Learning that her prize student had been propped up by her arch enemy, well, that was practically…Shakespearian.

“A lot of people who write craft books or cooking books have support, Maggie,” Lucy said finally. “Martha Stewart and Rachel Ray must have armies of people researching and writing things for them. It probably doesn’t mean much.”

It felt like it did, though, didn’t it? Lucy couldn’t deny that to herself.

“I find it odd that Amanda kept that relationship such a big secret,” Dana observed. “It really goes against her character. She’d be the type to flaunt that connection. It gave her status.”

“I did wonder about that,” Lucy said. “But maybe she wasn’t allowed to tell. Sometimes publishers asks ghost writers to sign disclosure agreements. I guess this accounts for her trips into the city. It wasn’t some secret lover, after all. She was a ghost writer, going in for meetings.”

“A ghost writer?” Maggie practically gasped. “Do you really think she did that much? That’s a little different from just helping with the research, wouldn’t you say?”

Lucy realized too late she had let that theory slip out. But now that she thought about it, it would be a logical explanation for their relationship. And the financial question. Cara had all the looks and charm and Amanda had all the knowledge, skill…and the real talent.

“Maggie…I honestly don’t know,” Lucy said finally. “All of these scenarios could be totally wrong. Maybe she was just…Cara’s typist or something,” she offered.

Phoebe made a scoffing face, but didn’t say anything. Lucy felt the same. That notion was not bloody likely, but she was trying to make a point. She didn’t want to upset Maggie by incriminating Cara further. She could certainly be wrong and totally jumping to conclusions.

“What are you going to do with the CD, Lucy?” Dana asked.

“I don’t have time to do anything with it tonight. I guess the police should hear about it sooner or later. But it probably doesn’t make any difference in the investigation.”

“No, it probably doesn’t,” Maggie agreed.

“But they should be aware of it and determine that for themselves,” Dana told Lucy. “If Peter goes to trial and some wild card like this comes out later, it could throw off his conviction. His defense could argue that the police didn’t follow up on a possible lead.”

“It’s an embarrassment for Cara,” Maggie pointed out, “but I don’t see how it has anything to with Amanda’s murder.”

“I didn’t mean it that way, Maggie,” Dana said quickly. “It’s just…a loose end, that’s all. And I think we should keep this new wrinkle to ourselves for now,” she added. “It’s probably nothing. But there are privacy issues.”

Maggie let out a long sigh. “Yes, there are issues.”

“Are we still going out for a drink?” Suzanne asked the others. “I have to make it quick. I need to be home by seven.”

Lucy nearly gasped. She’d forgotten all about the time…and Matt.

“I’ve got to run.” She turned to Maggie. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Maggie nodded, then smiled. “Have a good time. I want a full report.”

“We all want one,” Phoebe added.

“I’m sure this guy is very nice, Lucy,” Suzanne called after her. “But no whipped topping on the first date, right?”

They all started laughing.

“Suzanne, you’re bad,” Phoebe scolded her.

Lucy was glad her back was turned and no one could see her expression.

Lucy raced home, fed, and walked Tink. Then she ran into the bathroom and dabbed on some makeup. Just the usual, which was not much. No smokey eyes tonight, a makeup effect she’d studied carefully in a fashion magazine at the hair salon.

It was just as well. She felt shocked enough every time she looked in the mirror and caught sight of her new highlights. She hoped Matt would not decide he’d mistaken her for someone else.

They all want Malibu Barbie, Dana had promised her. Dana heard men’s deepest, darkest fantasies so she should know, right?

Lucy checked her watch. Five to seven, just enough time to make it back into town. They were meeting at the Japanese restaurant near the harbor. It was showtime.

Matt stood outside the restaurant waiting for her. He greeted her with a smile as she walked closer.

“Hey…hi,” he greeted her and she saw his eyes widen. “Did you do something to your hair?”

Lucy nodded and avoided his gaze. “Oh…just a trim,” she fibbed.

“Looks great.” He leaned over and gave her a quick hello hug, then held the door open for her and they went inside.

They were quickly led to a table and their waitress came by with hot hand towels and took their drink order. Matt asked for Japanese beer and Lucy asked for one, too.

Then they ordered a platter of sushi for two. It looked almost too artfully arranged to eat. Lucy focused on the interesting hand roll combinations while Matt worked on the sashimi. They covered a lot of conversational ground very quickly, too, bouncing from films to books to childhood ambitions. They took their time working through sushi and decided to skip the movie. It was more fun talking anyway, Lucy thought.

He asked how she had ended up a graphic artist and Lucy admitted that she’d tried for a while to make it as a fine artist. “I was working as a designer to pay the bills and trying to paint in my spare time. I guess I just got tired of getting beat up by gallery owners and pretty soon, my day job took over.”

“That’s too bad. Do you still paint?”

“Once in a while, when I have time,” she said. “It’s actually easier since I moved out here. I have lots of space in the cottage to keep my easel and paints out, which is half of the battle. And I do a lot of knitting,” she added, with a sly grin.

“Did you make that sweater?” he asked. His smile was gentle, not at all condescending.

“Yes, I did.”

“I like it. It’s looks almost Peruvian…but sort of Nordic at the same time.”

“That’s exactly what I was going for.” She gave him a serious look, then couldn’t help smiling.

“I knit a little. I’m just learning,” Matt said.

“You do?” Lucy couldn’t hide her surprise.

“Dara got a kit for her birthday and it was my weekend with her. And that’s what she wanted to do. So there we were.” He laughed. “We made a scarf for a stuffed animal. It came out pretty good. I got sort of hooked,” he confessed. “It’s been relaxing during the breakup.”

Lucy nodded, noticing he had not said “divorce.” “Have you finished any other projects so far?”

“I made a sweater for Dara,” he said proudly. “She’s so small, it went fast.”

“I love knitting for kids. The projects are fun. I just made sock monkey hats for my nieces. They were really easy. I can give you the pattern sometime.”

From the way he spoke about his daughter, Lucy could tell Matt was a good father, close and involved.

He had the right politics, too. Her mother was going to love this guy.

They both ended the meal with ginger ice cream, both feeling full but unable to pass up the rare treat. After dinner, they decided to take a walk around the harbor, instead of going to a movie even though it had gotten quite cold.

When they came to the benches at the end of the old dock, they sat down close together and looked out at the lights of the next town, on the shoreline across the inky blue stretch of water. Lucy’s two hundred dollar hairdo was no match for the damp wind off the water. Matt brushed a few strands of hair off her cheek with his hand. “I had a great time hanging out with you, Lucy.”

Lucy turned toward him. His face was very close. “Me, too,” she said. “Thanks for dinner,” she added.

“Anytime.” Then he leaned closer and kissed her.

It was good. Really good. Lucy closed her eyes and kissed him back. They soon had their arms around each other and she was suddenly glad they were out in the open and not alone at her house.

Finally, they decided to go. They walked back down the dock to the harbor park holding hands.

Matt suddenly slapped his forehead. “Some doctor. I never asked you about Tink. How’s she doing?”

Lucy laughed. “She’s doing great. You’d never know she just had a major operation.”

“Sounds good.”

Lucy glanced at him. “There’s something I wanted to ask you, Matt. When I brought Tink home and opened the envelope with the medications, did you really mean to give me that…that thing that came out of her stomach?”

Matt turned to her, wide eyed. “That was supposed to go out for lab work. No wonder I didn’t get the report back yet.”

Lucy laughed. “Whew…glad we cleared that up. I was worried that you had a really weird sense of humor.”

“Well, it is weird…but not that weird,” he promised her.

Lucy laughed, feeling relieved.

When they had reached her car, she got in and rolled down the window. “Well, good night. Thanks again.”

He leaned over and quickly kissed her cheek. “Good night, Lucy. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Tomorrow? Not just “I’ll call you”? That was pretty definitive.

“Okay, I’ll be around,” she replied.

As Lucy drove off she saw him standing on the sidewalk, watching for a moment, then he turned and headed for his own car.

Wow, a really good date. How often did that happen? Next to never?

Lucy was practically giddy as she cruised down Main Street. She noticed the lights on at the Black Sheep. It was just a few minutes past 11:00 and she guessed Maggie was still at the shop, straightening up after her class. With Peter in custody, the scare among the shopkeepers in town had dispelled and Maggie was back to her old habits again.

Lucy considered stopping by, to report on the date, but then felt she just wanted to keep it all inside a little longer, savoring the feeling. Yes, this could be something good. Sometimes you just know. She would tell her friends in good time. But she just needed time to herself to let the experience settle and gel.

Starting a new relationship was a lot like making a Jell-O mold. One layer at a time. She’d have to tell Phoebe that.

As Lucy headed out of the village center to the cottage, she nearly laughed out loud, remembering the look on Matt’s face when she’d asked why he’d sent her that disgusting specimen that had come out of Tink’s stomach.

Lucy tried not to think of what it had looked like, squashed at the bottom of the little glass bottle, but the image came unbidden into her brain.

Suddenly, it hit her. The thing from Tink’s stomach had looked just like Dana’s ugly knitted flower. That’s why a bell in her head had gone off the other night at the meeting, when they were all teasing Dana about how ugly her felted flower had turned out. Even Dana had said it looked like the dog’s breakfast.

The thing from Tink’s stomach was the same shade of reddish orange as the wool in Dana’s flower and the pattern for the felted flowers on Cara’s knitted jacket. The jacket that was missing a button…Lucy remembered now how she’d noticed that, looking over the photos that night.

It seemed impossible but the dots all connected in Lucy’s brain at once and big lights were flashing, “Eureka!” She didn’t need a lab report to confirm her conclusion:

The nasty glob that had come out of Tink’s digestive tract had once been a pretty flower button on Cara’s hand-knitted jacket.

L
ucy felt a bad taste in the back of her throat and it wasn’t sushi reflux. She gripped the wheel and pulled over. Her hands were shaking and a cold sweat had broken out all over her body under her thick hand-knitted sweater.

All the time she’d been out with Matt, she hadn’t given Amanda Goran’s murder a thought. Apparently the pleasant distraction was just what her subconscious needed to put the pieces together.

But now she felt it in her gut with icy certainty.

Peter Goran had not killed his wife. Sure, he was a cheating husband and a gambler, eager to pay off his debts with his wife’s life insurance benefits. Sales from his crafts were hardly enough to pay for his habit. He was a clumsy oaf who had tried to stage a break-in to persuade the police that Amanda was killed in a robbery and to help him get out of town.

Peter Goran was not a very nice guy but he wasn’t a murderer.

The real murderer was Cara Newhouse.

Sweet, lovely Cara. Maggie’s star student. The darling of the knitting world. The bestselling author and soon-to-be TV-show host. Cara had killed Amanda Goran, her secret ghost writer and pattern creator—and God only knew what else poor Amanda’s contribution had been to Cara’s success.

Lucy started the car, turned it around, and headed back into town. She had to tell Maggie her theory. It couldn’t wait until the morning—it was too important. Maggie may have already broken her promise and spoken to Cara about the CD.

Lucy raced down the narrow winding side streets of town, taking a shortcut to Main Street. Her mind was piecing everything together as she drove. Cara must have stopped at the Knitting Nest on her way to the Black Sheep for her presentation. She obviously had fought with Amanda, probably over their business arrangement.

As the two women struggled, Tink tried to protect Amanda. Tink had jumped on Cara, taken a bite of Cara’s coat, and swallowed the flower. Maybe Cara had been the one who’d injured her.

With Tink subdued, the rest of the dogs lost interest. Then Cara did Amanda in with the hat block Amanda had in her shop.

With Amanda knocked out, Cara ransacked the place and emptied Amanda’s wallet, trying to make it look like a robbery.

What she really wanted was the computer. It must have had all the files of her book on it, e-mails, whatever. The book that Amanda—not Cara—actually wrote.

She must have looked through the office for any evidence of her relationship with Amanda and taken what she could find. That’s why the police had never questioned Cara, not that Lucy had heard anyway.

Of course, she couldn’t have guessed that Amanda had socked away some evidence in the dog sweater just in case she ever needed proof. In case Cara decided to cut her out of the picture.

The Sunday morning when Lucy had seen someone skulking around the Knitting Nest, had that been Cara, too? Looking for any evidence she may have left behind? For this very CD, or something like it?

Lucy came to a red light and had to stop. She pulled out her cell phone and tried Maggie’s numbers, first the shop and then her cell. Maggie didn’t pick up either call.

She tried Phoebe but there was no answer at her number, either. Phoebe must be with Josh tonight, she realized, which left Maggie alone in the shop.

Lucy rounded the final turn onto Main Street, her Jeep practically taking the curve on two wheels. She drove up to the Black Sheep and parked across the street. Maggie’s Subaru was still parked in front and the lights shone brightly through the big bay window in front. Lucy didn’t see any other cars on the street and breathed easier.

She felt foolish now, rushing over here like the place was on fire. Maggie was fine. She had kept her promise and had not called Cara. This revelation could definitely wait until tomorrow. But here she was, so…

Lucy headed up the walk to the porch. Before she reached the steps, she peered through the bay window. A woman stood in the middle of the front room, her back to the street. It wasn’t Maggie. A chatty student, left over from the class? Wasn’t it a little late for that?

Lucy drew closer and recognized the late-night visitor. It was Cara. Just as Lucy had suspected. Cara was alone with Maggie. Not good. And she had not parked her car in plain view. Even worse.

Lucy quickly slunk out of sight before either of the women could see her. Her heart pounded wildly and she could barely breathe. She didn’t think it was a good idea to surprise them. Cara was clearly dangerous. What if she had a weapon this time? A real one, not just knitting equipment.

Lucy crept down the driveway, heading for the back of the shop. She tried to keep her steps as silent as possible on the gravel but it was nearly impossible. Finally, she reached the rear of the shop and the back door that opened into the storeroom.

Lucy tried the handle. It was unlocked, thank goodness. She slowly and quietly turned the knob, then slipped inside, closing the door with the same care. The storeroom was dark. It took her eyes a moment to adjust. She crept toward the doorway that led to the shop and tried hard to still her breathing.

Luckily, Maggie and Cara were still standing toward the front of the shop and Lucy heard them talking about Amanda. Lucy flattened herself near the doorway, trying to make out their words. She gulped down a breath and focused.

“She was just a proofreader for me, Maggie. A fact-checker, that’s all,” Lucy heard Cara say. “You can ask the police if you like. They even spoke to my publisher. She had a contract and made good money, believe me. But she got very jealous when I started to have some success. You know how she could be. She was always jealous of you, too. I don’t even want to repeat some of the things she said about you.”

Good move. The old distraction tactic. Lucy hoped Maggie wouldn’t fall for that.

“Amanda was insecure,” Maggie agreed. “But why didn’t you just tell me what was going on? I wouldn’t have told anyone Amanda worked on your books if you needed to keep it confidential.”

“Oh…I don’t know…I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I knew how Amanda would exaggerate and take all the credit. I didn’t want people to get the wrong idea. Especially with the TV show deal up in the air. It didn’t seem the right time to admit I had any help. Even though she really didn’t do much, I swear. The editor just wanted to cover herself, you know how it is, Maggie.”

Lucy heard Maggie sigh. She knew Maggie really wanted to believe Cara, despite what her instincts and intuition might be telling her right now. “I knew how difficult Amanda could be, believe me,” Maggie said.

“If only I’d come to you and asked for help with the books. We could have been an awesome team.” Cara sounded her usual warm, sweet little self. “We can still write a book together, Maggie,” Cara suggested. “There’s so much I can still learn from you.”

Lucy felt a yellowtail with scallion roll coming up again. Cara was shameless.

“You’re very busy now. I don’t see how you’d have the time.” Maggie sounded as if she didn’t know what to say. Did she have a clue about Cara’s real involvement or her state of mind? Lucy couldn’t tell. She sure as heck hoped so.

“So, what are you going to do with that CD? Can I have it back? I’d hate for someone else to find it and misunderstand.”

Cara’s tone was casual but underneath Lucy heard pure desperation.

“Oh, I don’t have it,” Maggie told her.

Lucy braced herself. It was going to get nasty now. She felt around her coat pocket for her cell phone, realizing she should have called 911 eons ago, before she’d even gotten out of her car. But her pockets were empty. She’d stupidly left her phone in the car, after she’d tried to reach Phoebe.

She did find the plastic CD case.

“You don’t have it?” Cara sounded shocked. “I thought on the phone you said you found it, in a box from Amanda’s shop?”

Lucy sucked in a breath.

Now she knew and sweet little Cara was about to go postal.

“Oh, you misunderstood me. Lucy found it. She just told me about it tonight. Told a few of us.” Maggie’s tone was calm and matter-of-fact.

Cara seemed stumped. Lucy wondered if she was considering how she might knock off the entire knitting club…one by one…

Time to make my move, Lucy thought. Maybe she could grab Cara and Maggie could grab the phone and call the police?

Lucy stepped out of the back room, then waved the CD case to distract Cara.

“Here it is, Cara. All yours. No problem. Just tell us why you killed Amanda. Did you have some secret arrangement, besides the one she had with your publisher? Was she blackmailing you?”

Maggie’s mouth hung open, staring at Lucy. She couldn’t have looked more surprised if Amanda Goran’s ghost had materialized in the middle of her shop.

Cara was frozen with shock. Then her fair complexion and pretty face turned red with rage.

“You’re insane. I didn’t kill Amanda. The police just arrested her husband, in case you didn’t hear.”

“I heard they found Amanda’s computer in the back of his truck,” Lucy replied. “I don’t know how you got it there, but that was a nice touch.”

“You have quite an imagination, Lucy. Maybe you should write a book, too.”

“You mean like Amanda?” Lucy challenged her. “She was really writing your books and creating the designs, too, right? Doing everything,” Lucy reminded her as she slowly tried to get closer. “This is proof enough,” she said, holding up the CD, “but I’m sure if we call your editor we’ll find out even more.”

Cara didn’t answer for a moment, then she did a silly-looking eye roll. “Big deal. I had some backup on the books. Everybody does that. Amanda just went psycho on me. She started making all these insane demands. Her name on the book covers and co-hosting the TV show. Can you imagine it? We had an agreement. She wasn’t supposed to just…pop out of the closet. With her pathetic makeover and her new teeth…but I didn’t kill her,” Cara quickly insisted. “It was her husband, Peter. He needed the insurance money. He has a gambling problem.”

“Yes, he does need the money,” Lucy admitted. “But that was just a turn of good luck for you. I’m thinking now you framed him somehow, planting that computer in his truck. Like you tried to frame Maggie,” Lucy told her. “Hiding the hat block in the shop. Perfect. You brought it here the day you came with the flowers and pretended to be looking for buttons to match your new sweater. You must have dumped it in one of the cartons while Maggie and I were in the storeroom together.”

The idea had just come to Lucy as she recalled that morning in the shop. But as soon as she saw Cara’s expression, she knew she’d gotten it right and the pieces all finally fit together.

“You bitch, that’s not true! None of it. I could never do anything like that. Especially to Maggie.” Cara’s doe-eyed expression grew stone-cold.

Maggie gasped. Lucy noticed now that she had slipped behind the counter. If Cara got violent at least that would be some barrier between them, Lucy thought.

Cara put her hand into her pocket and pulled out a gun.

Lucy froze in place. She couldn’t even dare to take a breath.

“Well, it’s been nice chatting with you, Lucy. But it is late. Hand over the CD and I won’t shoot Maggie.”

Lucy’s hands were shaking and she tried to play for some more time. She kept glancing at Maggie, hoping she’d duck down under the counter. But Maggie did the opposite and came out again from behind her thin protection.

“Cara, please. Try to just calm down. Put the gun down. Don’t make an even bigger mistake,” Maggie spoke slowly as she walked toward Cara.

“Stay right where you are, Maggie. I don’t want to hurt you.” Cara’s voice was tight and menacing. She meant business.

Maggie froze in her tracks.

Lucy held her hands in a gesture of surrender, then gently leaned over to hand Cara the CD.

As Cara reached out for it, Lucy grabbed the folded-up umbrella swift that was sitting on the counter near the cash register and swung it, whacking the gun out of Cara’s hand.

“Ow! Goddamn, you broke my hand…” Cara grabbed her hand, wincing in pain.

The CD went skidding across the bare wood floor and so did the gun.

Cara stared at Maggie and Lucy, then dashed for the front door.

She pulled it open and a swarm of policemen filled the shop entrance. Lucy saw a few more on the porch, peering through the window, then she turned at the sound of footsteps running into the shop through the storeroom.

Cara knew she was cornered. She didn’t even try to resist, just buried her face in her hands and cried.

Lucy looked over at Maggie, who now stood close by. “Silent alarm. There’s a button under the counter. I had it installed after Amanda’s murder. Never thought I’d use it this way.” Then Maggie’s expression dissolved into tears.

Lucy stood beside her and put her arm around Maggie’s shoulder. She swallowed hard. Lucy knew the truth about Cara had to be a shock and a painful revelation for Maggie. Lucy didn’t know what to say. She thought it was best, just then, not to say anything.

Despite a late night at the police station, where she’d spent several hours with Maggie giving statements, Lucy woke up early on Saturday morning. She showered and dressed quickly, then walked Tink down to the village. She wandered along the paths in the harbor park for a while, then picked up the
Plum Harbor Times
at the stationery store. Part of her wanted to read the local news coverage and part of her didn’t.

“Local Resident Confesses to Goran Murder” the grim headline read. While Lucy and Maggie told and retold the police the story of their standoff with Cara, Cara was in another interview room with Detective Walsh, telling her long sad tale.

Lucy scanned the article quickly. There wasn’t too much in there that she didn’t know and a lot was left out that she did. She walked down to the Black Sheep, wondering if she’d find Maggie there. Lucy had no doubt last night that Maggie would open today at her usual time, despite the fact that they had not gotten home until after two. Anyone else would have hung the “Gone Knitting” sign and taken the day off.

But Lucy knew Maggie. She needed to keep busy. That was her way of coping with a crisis. It wasn’t such a bad method, either, Lucy decided.