Yarn Over Murder (A Knitting Mystery) (7 page)

Kelly walked over and placed an arm around Connie’s shoulders, giving her a hug. “How’re you doing, Connie?” she asked softly. Connie gave a little shrug in reply, without words. “We’re here for you, Connie. You know that.”

Connie’s lower lip curled and her face started to flush, then she nodded. Kelly didn’t want to make Connie cry, so she gave her another hug then walked into the adjoining central yarn room. She spotted Mimi in the main room, pattern folders spread on the table around her.

“Hey, there,” Kelly said in a lower voice. “I just saw Connie and gave her a hug. Told her we were here for her, you know. She looked like she was about to tear up so I just gave her another hug and left her alone.” Kelly pulled out a chair across the table from Mimi.

“That’s all we can do, Kelly,” Mimi said with a sigh. “She was acting so subdued and not talking to anyone when she came in, I assumed she’d already heard about Andrea.” Mimi glanced over her shoulder, then said in a lower voice, “But when I mentioned what a shock it was to hear about Andrea’s death, Connie just stared at me wide-eyed. Like she was dazed or something. All she said was
‘How?’
I told her Andrea must have fallen down the outside steps because she was found lying on the ground. That’s all I knew. I swear Connie turned white as a sheet. She just sat at the winding table and stared out the windows for a long time.” Mimi shook her head, her face revealing her concern. “I left her alone with her thoughts. Thank goodness some customers came in and she started to answer their questions. I was beginning to worry.”

“Sounds like Connie is kind of suffering from the shock of everything that happened this weekend. All the trauma. Yelling and stuff. Believe me, Mimi, you and Burt were lucky you weren’t around to see it. It would have upset you too much.”

Mimi closed her eyes. “You’re right. It sounded awful just hearing you tell me about it on the phone.”

Cassie rounded the corner from the workroom with several plastic-encased patterns in her hands. “I found the patterns you were looking for, Mimi. Hey, Kelly.”

“Hey, Cassie. Are you going to softball today? I’ll be leaving in about an hour.” Kelly checked her watch.

“Sure thing. I’ve got my stuff in my backpack in the workroom.”

“Good deal.” She pushed back her chair. “Maybe I’ll bring my laptop in here and work for a while. That way you can help me keep track of the time. In case I get lost in the numbers.”

“Only accountants get lost in numbers and seem to enjoy it,” Mimi said as Kelly headed toward the café again.

The alcove was empty now, Kelly noticed. That quiet time in the café between breakfast and lunch. Grabbing her shoulder bag and coffee mug, she walked down the hallway and through the workroom. More pattern books were opened on the work table.

“Are you reorganizing the pattern books or something?” she asked, admiring a pattern for a sleeveless sweater that lay on the table. “That’s pretty. I need a new knitting project. Maybe I’ll make that one. Is it hard, Mimi?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait a minute. Why am I asking you?” Kelly said as she withdrew her laptop from her bag and settled into a chair. “Everything’s easy for you.”

Cassie giggled. “She’s right, Mimi. Every time someone asks about a pattern, you always say, ‘It’s easy.’”

Kelly gestured to her accomplice. “See? It’s not my imagination. Cassie says it, too. I’ve got backup.”

Mimi gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Well, it is easy. And you would enjoy making it, Kelly. But it might be more helpful if you tried one of the easier sweater patterns. A lot of us are starting to knit sweaters for the wildfire evacuees who’ve lost their homes and possessions. They could really use anything we can make for them.”

“But it’s so hot!” Cassie exclaimed, eyes wide. “They wouldn’t wear a woolen sweater in the summer!”

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Cassie,” Kelly said, taking a deep drink of coffee.

“Well, they wouldn’t be using them now, but in a few months they will be needing those sweaters. And those poor folks are not going to be able to buy all new clothes. That’s expensive. So anything we can knit for them will be appreciated, I promise you.”

“I heartily agree with you, Mimi,” a deep contralto voice sounded from the central yarn room behind Kelly.

A voice she hadn’t heard in a long time. That of Hilda von Steuben. One half of the pair of spinster sisters and knitters extraordinaire. Kelly turned in her chair and saw Hilda and sister, Lizzie, standing in the archway between both rooms, smiling. Tall and big-boned Hilda, and shorter, dainty, round-as-a-dumpling Lizzie.

“Hilda! Lizzie!” Kelly cried in delight and leaped from her chair, giving first Hilda then Lizzie a hug. “How wonderful to see you both! It’s been a few weeks since you’ve been in.”

“Kelly, my girl, it’s so good to see you,” Hilda said, as Kelly kissed her on the cheek.

“Oh, my, yes! You look wonderful, dear!” Lizzie said, her bright smile revealing her dimples.

Mimi was right behind Kelly. “Oh, you two, how marvelous to see you both!” She gave them each a hug as well.

“Oh, such a fuss,” Hilda protested mildly, holding on to Mimi’s arm with one hand. Her other hand rested on her cane.

“We’d have come in sooner, but we both had a terrible stomach flu bug. We’d recovered from that by last week, but then this heat has been so bad, and then the smoke,” Lizzie explained as she flounced to the end of the table, pink and white ruffles in full bloom. “We have to run two filters to clear the air in our home. We’re in the middle of town, you know.” She pulled out a chair. “Here, Hilda, this will be easier for you at the end.”

“Come in and sit down,” Mimi said, taking Hilda’s arm as she slowly walked the elderly woman to the chair Lizzie had indicated.

Kelly quickly pulled out the chair at the other end of the table. “Here, Lizzie, why don’t you take this one. That way we’ll have von Steuben sisters anchoring both ends of our knitting table. It’ll be like old times.”

“Old times, eh?” Hilda said. “Well, Lizzie and I are experts on all things old, aren’t we, Lizzie?”

“Oh, my, yes,” Lizzie said, settling into the chair Kelly held out. Rearranging her ruffles, Lizzie gave her silver hair a pat in its tidy twist at the back of her head.

An old familiar gesture Kelly hadn’t seen in a while.

Feeling a pang of nostalgia, she said, “I have really missed you two. It seems every time you made it over here, I was down in Denver with one of my clients.”

“As well you should be,” Hilda intoned, setting her tapestry knitting bag upon the table. “We’ve kept track of your career progression, my dear. Thanks to Mimi and Burt, of course. I take it Burt is out on one of your many errands, Mimi. I’m sorry to miss him.”

“Well, I’m going to call him and tell him to make sure he stops by to say hello. He’s over in Landport now, volunteering to drive supplies back and forth to the various shelters and such.”

“Oh, my, that awful, awful fire!” Lizzie’s hand fluttered up in a trademark wave that Kelly loved. “That is simply dreadful, isn’t it? I’m so glad Burt is helping.” She opened her multicolored embroidered knitting bag.

“He’s a good man,” Hilda said, withdrawing the light blue silky yarn from her knitting bag. It looked to Kelly like a half-finished baby sweater.

Glancing to the side, Kelly noticed Cassie standing back, watching the two elderly ladies at the table. As if she read her mind, Mimi quickly walked over to Cassie’s side and placed her arm around Cassie’s shoulders.

“And I’d like both of you to meet the newest addition to the Lambspun family. This is Cassie Wainwright. She’s Pete’s niece who has lived in Denver most of her life. But now that her grandfather’s health has deteriorated, Cassie’s moved up here to live with Pete and Jennifer.” Mimi gave Cassie a big smile.

“Ah, yes, I remember your telling us about this young lady,” Hilda said, gazing at Cassie over the top her spectacles. “I’m pleased to meet you, Cassie.”

“I’m . . . pleased to meet you, too . . . ma’am,” Cassie said softly.

“Oh, and so am I, my, dear!” Lizzie gushed, her hand fluttering to her lacy bodice. “And what beautiful blue eyes you have!”

Cassie ducked her head, murmuring a soft thank-you as a flush spread across her cheeks.

Kelly shoved her laptop aside, leaned back into her chair, and watched as two lifelong schoolteachers began to draw a bashful Cassie into conversation.

Wednesday, June 13

Kelly
leaned against her kitchen counter and sipped her early morning coffee, all the while listening to her real estate investor client Arthur Housemann on the other end of the phone.

“I tell you, Kelly, it’s hell, not knowing what’s happened in Poudre Canyon. I’ve gone to every single briefing the fire commandant has held. I’ve met with the police department. And no one, not one of them, will let us know the extent of the damage up there. They won’t even give us a hint. I mean, it is frustrating beyond belief!”

Kelly could recognize the sound of carefully controlled anger in her client’s voice. She’d only heard it once or twice since they’d started working together. The first time was a year ago when Arthur had been involved in a real estate transaction with a landowner who had a rather shady reputation.

Usually Arthur Housemann was the model of experienced restraint. Measured. But his property in the Poudre Canyon, right on the river, was dear to Arthur’s heart. He’d built his dreamhouse there. Consequently, anything that might threaten it was met with fierce resistance. However, none of the canyon residents had any defenses against wildfire. It was the most powerful of all adversaries.

“I hear you, Arthur. My friend Jayleen Swinson told me the same thing. None of the Bellevue Canyon residents have heard anything about their homes, either. Of course, firefighters are still putting out fires up there.”

“That’s understandable, up in Bellevue Canyon. They’ve had fires breaking out around Whale Rock and Davis Ranch roads. But our brave crew was able to beat back the flames near Poudre Park. Only a few places were lost, thankfully.”

“It’s incredible what that small crew did, Arthur,” Kelly said, pouring more coffee into her mug. “I heard that there were only a handful of volunteer firefighters on duty that night because everyone else had gone to fight the fire in Bellevue Canyon.”

“They were truly heroic, Kelly.” Emotion was evident in his voice. “That fire swept down the ridge in a horseshoe and they had to fight two prongs. Just a handful of them. Someone said they literally put their bodies between the wildfire and people’s homes. Not just once, but over and over again, in order to save them. I tell you, they deserve medals in my book.”

“I agree with you. Whenever this horrible wildfire is finally put out, the entire community should hold a celebration for those brave firefighters.” She glanced toward her desk in the corner of what was now her cottage-turned-office. Several files lay open on the top of her desk. “I’m afraid the wildfire has thrown a wrench into my normal everyday work schedule. So those midmonth projections I usually give you may be a little delayed.”

“Don’t even bother with them, Kelly. I’ve put almost everything on hold at the office while this fire is still threatening. I have a feeling no one is going to be showing land parcels to anyone for a while. At least not in Bellevue or Poudre canyons.”

“I understand, Arthur. You and your wife were uprooted in the middle of the night and evacuated from your home. I swear, I don’t think I would have handled that well at all. I would probably have argued with them.”

Arthur Housemann laughed, the first laughter she’d heard from him in days, ever since she’d first contacted him after the wildfire broke out. It was good to hear him laugh. Like her two father-figure mentors, Curt Stackhouse and Burt Parker, Kelly thought of Arthur Housemann the same way. He reminded her a lot of her own father. Smart, soft-spoken, and a savvy businessman.

“I imagine you would have, Kelly. At least, you’d have tried.” He chuckled. “But those firefighters don’t take much backtalk, so I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have changed their minds.”

“You’re probably right, Arthur. Listen, I’ll wait to send you the financial reports at the end of the month then. After all this is over. I swear it’s disrupted everyone’s life, even if they don’t live in the fire zone.”

“Yes, it has. My daughter and her family in Loveland have taken in some friends who have property around Stove Prairie, near Paradise Park. I tell you, people are displaced all over.” The sound of an incoming call beeped on his line. “Sorry, Kelly. I have another call coming in. I’ll talk to you another time.”

“Take care, Arthur. And I’ll be sending good thoughts about your Poudre Canyon home.” Kelly clicked off her phone and shoved it in her pocket.

The heat was already building, and it was only midmorning. She had client spreadsheets waiting. Work to do. But once again, it would not be comfortable working here in the cottage. There was no air conditioning. Normally, Kelly had been able to get around the few hot days in July by escaping into the knitting shop to work. But this summer was different. Hot weather had started in May and didn’t let up. Now Kelly spent more days working at Lambspun either in the café or around the knitting table. Clearly, today would be the same.

Kelly closed the file folders, loaded them and her laptop into her shoulder briefcase bag, refilled Carl’s two big water dishes, and gathered her coffee mug. “Keep an eye on those squirrels, Carl,” she called to her dog, who was snuffling around the bushes at the side fence. Carl glanced at her briefly then returned to snuffling, having picked up the elusive scent of squirrel feet. Or, perhaps, a raccoon. Kelly knew raccoons visited her yard at night as they made their nocturnal rounds, checking garbage cans for loose lids, eating grapes from people’s grapevines and arbors, then spitting the seeds all over the patios. Adding insult to injury.

Heading out her front door, Kelly checked the bright annuals that were blooming because of her faithful watering. Pink, white, and coral impatiens proudly flaunted their colors beside the hardy purple and white petunias. Miniature purple petunias snuggled next to the others, vining through the flowers. And the shade-loving violas in another container danced in the breeze beside the pansies—yellow and purple.

She started across the driveway, but she couldn’t help walking over to where there was a break in between the cottonwood trees. There, she stood and gazed westward toward the mountains, searching for any new signs of smoke. Smoke could be seen billowing up from behind the foothills, indicating that there were still fires breaking out.

Last night the wind had gusted strongly, starting in early evening and going into the night. And sure enough, Kelly spotted some new plumes of smoke rising. She’d heard on the news that fire crews were worried about wind from the southwest spreading fire north of the Poudre Canyon Road. Fires were already burning west of Stove Prairie, but fire crews were not as worried because that area was unpopulated and filled with beetle-killed pines.

Turning toward the knitting shop, Kelly spotted both Jennifer and Julie serving breakfast in the garden patio area of the café. She deliberately steered clear of the tempting favorite foods and hastened up the brick steps and into the front door of Lambspun. The cool air-conditioned air felt good.

Kelly took her time walking through the foyer, checking for new fibers displayed. Some of Mimi’s special hand-dyed yarns sat out on the tables, luscious blends of colors twining together. Now, delicate open-weave tops were dangling from the cabinet doors of a dry sink.

She wandered into the central yarn room where wooden bins lined the available walls. Each bin spilling over with various combinations of Mimi’s hand-dyed yarns—pinks and purples, blues and turquoise, as well as the pastel shades of bamboo yarns and silky cottons.

Brilliant summer colors tumbled out of an antique trunk on the floor—Popsicle red, lemon candy yellow, lime rickey green. Kelly couldn’t resist touching, enjoying the soft brush of delicate cotton yarns.

“Hey, Kelly, how’re you doing?” Rosa asked as she walked from the main knitting room, her arms filled with magazines.

“Okay, I guess, considering what’s going on in the mountains.” Kelly dumped her mug and her shoulder bag on the long library table.

Rosa’s cheerful smile disappeared. “Oh, I know. My next door neighbors had to take in their parents because they were forced to evacuate their place in Bellevue Canyon. They’re not that far away from Jayleen’s ranch. And no one knows if their house is still there. It’s terrible.”

“I was just talking to one of my clients who built his dream house up the Poudre Canyon. He and his wife were chased out at midnight Saturday night. They have no idea if they’ll have a house to return to or not.” Kelly settled into a chair at the table and pulled out her laptop and files.

Rosa plopped the pile of magazines at the end of the table and began removing the older editions from binders and replacing them with newer ones.

“You know, I love going up into the canyons, but I tell you, I don’t ever want to live up there. I mean, it’s too risky. Wildfires can start anywhere. Even without a campfire. They’re saying that this fire started with a lightning strike.” She gestured in aggravation. “All it takes is one strike in these dry woods, and we have hundreds of lightning strikes every spring and summer.”

Mimi suddenly rushed into the room, eyes wide. “I just had a call from Burt. He’s in Landport, helping the Red Cross folks. They’re hearing that fire has spread farther into the lower Buckhorn Valley. The wind whipped it over there last night.”

Rosa gasped, hand to her mouth.
“Madre de Dios!”

Kelly stared at Mimi. Curt’s ranch bordered one far edge of the Buckhorn Valley. “Oh, no! There are scores of people and ranches in the Buckhorn. They’re spread all over.”

“Did he say anything else, Mimi?” Rosa asked.

“No, he simply wanted me to know and tell everyone.” Mimi’s concern was revealed clearly on her face. “I’m going to tell Jennifer and Pete in the café.” She hurried away.

Kelly dug her cell phone from her pocket and scrolled down the directory to Jayleen’s number. She listened to it ring and ring then switch to voice mail. Not surprised, she said into the phone, “Jayleen? Kelly, here. I just heard that the fire has spread more into the lower Buckhorn Valley, and I was concerned about Curt’s ranch. I know he’s not actually in the Buckhorn, he’s south of it. But I was worried anyway. When you get a chance, please let us know what’s happening. Take care.”

With that, Kelly clicked off and glanced up at Rosa, seeing her own concern reflected on Rosa’s face. Friends, so many friends, were being put in danger, and their properties were in the path of the wildfire. The capricious, devastating wildfire. Kelly couldn’t think of a worse enemy to face. More dangerous and relentless and unpredictable than any human.

•   •   •

“Have
you heard anything else?” Jennifer asked Kelly as she refilled her glass of iced coffee.

Kelly pushed her laptop to the side. One of Arthur Housemann’s spreadsheets on his real estate properties was open on the screen. “No, Jayleen hasn’t returned my call. But I’m not surprised. I’m sure they’re out trying to see exactly where the wildfire spread to. Outside with all that noise, neither of them would even hear their phones.”

Jennifer stared out into the lessening midafternoon lunch crowd. “Yeah, but the wind has whipped those hot cinders around, so who knows what might happen. Thank goodness Curt’s ranch isn’t right in the Buckhorn. Poor Jayleen must feel like she’s cursed. Wherever she’s taken her alpacas to for safety has become a target for the wildfire.”

“I know.” Kelly glanced around. “I didn’t see Cassie. Isn’t she with Lisa this afternoon at the Rehab Clinic? I know she was at tennis with Megan this morning.”

Jennifer smiled as she gathered Kelly’s almost empty lunch plate. Only two shreds of lettuce remained. “She was in and out again in a minute. Megan was going to take her to lunch then drop her at the Rehab Clinic to meet Lisa.”

“That’s right. It must be Wednesday. Tennis in the morning and watching physical therapists in the afternoon.”

“I swear, she comes back with stories about all sorts of injuries people have and how they’re rehabbing. She tells Pete and me everything at dinner. She even demonstrates some of the therapy Lisa and the others use. Pete and I are getting a kick out of it. Gotta get back to my other customers. Talk to you later.” Jennifer walked toward the grill counter.

Kelly returned to the accounting spreadsheets, sipping her iced coffee. Temperatures were going to reach ninety-eight or ninety-nine today, even with occasional wind gusts. Nothing affected the wind. And it created its own weather system within the wildfire. That was another reason these wildfires in the mountains were so hard to overcome. Two weather systems were in play: Mother Nature’s and the wildfire’s.

Her cell phone rang as it lay on the wooden café table. Burt’s name flashed on the screen. “Hey, Burt, I’m glad you called. Any more news on the fire spreading farther into the Buckhorn?”

“Firefighters moved even more men into those hot spots that opened up last night and early this morning. I tell you, it seems they’re throwing everything they can at it. There’re over twelve hundred firefighters on the ground now, from all over. You should see that tent city at the Armory. I glimpsed it from a distance. Guards don’t let anyone in without fire credentials.”

“Man, we can’t catch a break with this fire, can we?”

“I know it appears that way, Kelly. But these fire crews are working like crazy, twelve-hour shifts in that inferno heat, two-hundred-foot walls of flames, they’ve told me. And they’re trying to build fire lines so the fire can’t spread beyond where it’s burned. The water tanker plane helps but this fire is so strong, that’s like spitting into it.”

Kelly remembered watching the small plane make numerous trips from the Horsetooth Reservoir where it lowered its bucketlike container to refill with water, then fly out over the wildfire again to dump the water where it could help the most. “I agree with you, Burt. At least those water dumps made a difference when the fire spread to Soldier Canyon. Of course, that was a smaller outbreak.”

“And they could jump on it right away, too.”

Kelly heard noise in the background. “Where are you? Running errands?”

“Yeah, I’m picking up stuff for the volunteers who’re out at the Ranch. Oh, that reminds me. I finally heard from my old partner Dan at the department. He’s taking over Andrea’s case. I’m glad. He told me the medical examiner took a look at her and made his report. Cause of death was a broken neck. That’s what we all figured. I mean, that’s what would happen to any of us if we fell down a flight of wooden steps and landed on the rocky ground. Examination indicates she landed on her back because that’s where the major tissue and bone damage were. The department is treating it as an accidental death. No doubt caused when Andrea was trying to evacuate her home when the wildfire started in the canyon.”