“I’m sorry, big guy,” Kelly apologized as she patted Carl’s head. “I don’t know what else to do.”
Instead of enjoying the pat, however, Carl immediately started barking again, staring toward the driveway beside the cottage. Kelly turned to see a man tentatively approach the fence, then draw back at Carl’s ferocious barking. Something about the man looked familiar.
“Can I help you?” Kelly said as she approached the fence.
The man hesitated and looked over her shoulder. “Is he okay?” he asked, clearly concerned. “I don’t want to make him mad.”
“No no, it’s all right,” Kelly reassured. “Did you wish to speak to me?”
“Yes, yes I did,” he answered, looking her full in the face.
Kelly remembered where she had seen him—that morning at the funeral. “You’re Bob Claymore?” she inquired, offering her hand across the fence. “I’m Kelly Flynn. I believe I saw you at Vickie’s funeral this morning.”
Claymore almost looked grateful as he shook her hand. “Thank you. I was hoping you might do me a favor, Ms. Flynn. Mimi Shafer told me you were assisting Debbie with Vickie’s business accounts, I believe.”
“Yes, that’s correct,” she replied, adopting a businesslike tone. She had no idea where this conversation was going. “What sort of favor are you talking about, Mr. Claymore.”
“I simply wanted you to ask Debbie if she would please meet with me, if only for a few minutes. She’s refused to talk with me since her mother died. I can understand her anger and grief, but . . . but now she’s making wild accusations to the police.”
Claymore’s face took on the desperate look Kelly had seen that morning when he’d obviously tried to plead his case to Debbie. “I’ll certainly mention it to her, Mr. Claymore, but I’m not sure my saying anything will make a difference.”
Claymore’s whole body seemed to sag with that. He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. “I’ve asked everyone, Ms. Flynn. Mimi Shafer, Geri Norbert, Jayleen. I . . . I don’t know anyone else who might get through to her. I know how much she loved her mother, but to think that I could kill Vickie, why, it’s . . . it’s unthinkable. I loved Vickie. I couldn’t hurt her.” He stared off toward the golf course. “And now she’s gone to the police with all these awful accusations. It’s . . . it’s unbelievable! They came to my office at the university, for God’s sake. And they interviewed me there. I was so ashamed. I couldn’t even look at my colleagues afterward. What must they think of me? Do they believe me to be capable of murder?”
Kelly watched the anguish play across his face and decided that Bob Claymore would have to be an excellent actor to feign all that emotion. Her earlier feelings surfaced, and she softened her tone. “Mr. Claymore, I promise I will try to convince Debbie to see you. All this animosity isn’t good for either of you. And it certainly doesn’t serve Vickie’s memory.”
Claymore glanced back to Kelly, gratitude evident in his eyes. “Thank you, Ms. Flynn. I . . . I appreciate that more than you know.”
“She may bring others along with her. I’m sure you’d understand if she did.”
Claymore nodded. “Of course. She’s free to bring anyone she wants. I just want to have an opportunity to clear myself in her eyes.”
“I understand, Mr. Claymore. I’ll do what I can.”
Carl started barking again, and Claymore gave Kelly a wan smile as he backed away. “Thank you,” he repeated as he walked away.
Kelly watched him all the way to his car, wishing she didn’t feel so unsettled.
“See you tonight at practice,” Megan called over her shoulder as she sped through the knitting shop door.
“Don’t forget your sunscreen,” Kelly teased with a wave as she headed toward the main room.
Burt sat in his favorite sunny corner, spinning a smoky gray fleece. Kelly settled into a nearby chair and pulled the peacock blue and green scarf from her bag.
“How are you, Burt?” she said, picking up the scarf where she left off. It was really looking good now, and she was almost finished. The pudgy ball of boa eyelash yarn had dwindled to the size of a walnut. “You heard about the visit we had from the police, didn’t you?”
Burt smiled, feet moving back and forth, setting the wheel’s rhythm. “Yes, Mimi told me about the bracelet and the visit.”
“I imagine Eva Bartok was questioned. I mean, after all, she’s the woman who’d been screwing around with Vickie’s husband.”
“She was questioned yesterday as a matter of fact,” Burt replied.
Kelly waited, anxious to hear what had transpired, or whatever Burt could reveal. “Well, what came out of it?” she demanded after Burt sat silent for over a minute.
Burt glanced toward the adjoining rooms. They were alone at the library table. “She has an alibi,” he said in a hushed voice. “She was with a book discussion group at the university the night Vickie was killed.”
The hum of the wheel filled the room as Kelly sat quietly knitting while Burt spun. Try as she might, she simply could not come up with a suspect other than Bob Claymore. Problem was, now that she’d met him, seen the anguish in his eyes, and heard the despair in his voice, Kelly felt sorry for him. And that made it harder for her to picture him as a killer.
Was all of that a ruse? Kelly wondered. All of that anguish and despair looked real. Was it possible Bob Claymore really was the killer?
She paused to count stitches again. That was the only way she’d been able to control the yarn’s tendency to multiply. Whenever she found an extra stitch, Kelly would simply knit two stitches together.
“Burt, is he the only suspect the police have so far?” she probed again.
Burt gave her a smile. “Well, let’s just say he’s the best suspect the detectives have at the moment.”
“Because of the divorce and the terms of the will, I’ll bet.”
“Well, that, and the fact that he doesn’t have an alibi. He says he was home reading. All alone.”
Kelly sighed out loud. “Oh, brother. That doesn’t look good.”
“Now that they’ve questioned Eva Bartok, he may get another visit from the detectives.”
“Why’s that?” Kelly asked, noticing two customers chatting in the adjoining room.
Burt leaned closer. “Eva claims she lost the bracelet two weeks ago, right after she’d spent the weekend with Bob Claymore.”
Kelly stared at Burt. “Sounds like Eva thinks Claymore is trying to frame her. What do you think?”
Burt shrugged. “It depends on whether you believe her story. The detectives said she only mentioned Claymore after they told her where they’d found the bracelet. Apparently she got pretty mad after that.”
“And Eva has an alibi, right? So it can’t be her,” Kelly mused in a low voice. “So, she couldn’t have dropped the bracelet at the scene. And that leads us right back to Claymore. Assuming, of course, that he’s the one who stole it.”
“Or that it was stolen at all,” Burt reminded her with a smile. “Who knows, maybe it dropped off her arm when she was visiting Vickie one day.”
Kelly shook her head. “From what I’ve heard, Vickie and Eva were not on visiting terms. In fact, I heard they had a really bad argument at the Denver weaving conference the week before Vickie died.”
Burt sat back. “We’d picked up lots of gossip about the bad blood between those two women, but our network missed that. Where’d you hear it, Kelly?”
“From the Lambspun network, Burt,” she said with a grin. “Our grapevine beats them all.”
Eleven
“Fill ’er up, Pete,” Kelly requested, leaning over the café counter with her outstretched mug.
Pete grinned. “You really know how to start the day, Kelly,” he said, filling her stainless-steel mug with the dark brew.
Kelly’s cell phone rang, and she struggled to grab her mug and knitting bag and answer her phone, all at the same time. “This is Kelly,” she managed as she wound her way through the knit
ting shop.
“Kelly, I’m going up into the canyon in a little while to finish up the insurance claims,” Debbie’s voice came over the phone. “Will you be coming up today?”
“I’ll be up this afternoon, Debbie,” Kelly promised. “I have to get to a certain point with my office accounts, then I can head out. Probably after lunch.” She dumped her knitting bag and mug on the library table, then waved hello to Jennifer and Megan, who were already knitting.
“Oh, good.” Debbie sounded relieved. “I was hoping you would come. Tell me, have you made much progress with the financial reports?”
“I’ve reviewed all the income statements. Now I have to access the remaining records on the computer and update those. Once I finish that, then I can start to draw up the reports. Oh, that reminds me.” Kelly dug into her bag and withdrew the completed blue and green scarf. “You’ll need to call the investment bank and ask them to fax a statement showing all activity from the first of July. We’ve got last quarter’s statement, but we need to see if Vickie made any withdrawals or deposits during those first few days. The statements are in a folder on the desk.”
“I’ll call as soon as I get to the ranch,” Debbie promised. “Oops, got another call.”
“See you this afternoon,” Kelly said, then flipped off her phone. She picked up the peacock scarf and dangled it in front of her friends. “Ta-dah!” she announced.
“Whoa! Look at that,” Megan said. “Good job, Kelly.”
“See, we knew you could do it,” Jennifer added, her needles busily working another long-fringed scarf. This one was tangerine and coral.
Kelly reached over and fingered the luscious summer colors. “I haven’t seen these colors before. Did we get a new shipment?”
Jennifer nodded and pointed to the room behind her. “Check out the wooden crates in the corner. New yarns came in.”
Kelly jumped up from her chair and headed for the yarns, nearly running into Steve, who had rounded the corner at the same moment.
“Whoa,” he said, stepping out of the way. “You folks need traffic signals on this corner.”
“How about truck mirrors?” Jennifer suggested. “They could stick way out so we’d see who’s coming.”
“Sorry,” Kelly apologized. “You caught me in the midst of fiber fever. New yarns.” She pointed to the corner.
“Do you have a minute?” Steve asked. “I’m on the way back to the site, but I wanted to check something with you.” He pulled out a chair and straddled it backward, clearly not staying long.
“What’s up, Steve?” Megan teased. “You trying to recruit Kelly for your team?”
Steve grinned. “I would if I thought I had a chance.”
“Dream on,” Kelly taunted as she settled back into her chair.
“No, I’m here to check out the itinerary for tomorrow.” He pulled a notepad from his pocket.
“Tomorrow?” Kelly stared blankly for a moment before she remembered. She slapped her hand to her forehead. “Oh, yeah, our Wyoming trip.”
“Yeah, our Wyoming trip. Tomorrow. Early. So set your alarm. We’re leaving at seven a.m.”
Kelly’s eyes popped wide. “Whoa. Guess I’ll have to run at daybreak. Okay, who’s driving? Do you need me?”
“Nah, we’re covered. Curt’s taking his truck, and I’m driving mine. We figured some of you might be up for a road trip.”
“You know, Kelly, I could come along and take a look at your cousin’s house,” Jennifer offered. “Give you an estimate of market value. Let me check the Wyoming multilist this afternoon and see what the comparables are. Do you have a description of size, rooms, and all that?”
“No, but I’m sure the lawyer does. I could ask Chambers to fax me something,” she replied. “Thanks for offering, Jen. That’ll help a lot.”
“Hey, I’d like to go, too,” Megan piped up across the table. “I need a break after the project I finished yesterday. Brother. I’m exhausted.”
“Sure,” Steve invited. “We have plenty of room. Both trucks can take three up front.”
“Chambers said he coordinated everything with Curt. Are we meeting with the ranch manager?”
Steve flipped open his notepad. “Yes. Chet Brewster. He’ll be there to take us around and answer any questions. Then he’ll take us on a tour around the entire ranch. We’ll need to see which areas would work for a natural area and which areas wouldn’t.”
Suddenly the enormity of the endeavor settled in on Kelly again. “Wow, I don’t know what I’d do without you guys,” she said, nodding to Steve and Jennifer. “And Curt. I’d be clueless. Totally clueless.”
“That’s what friends are for, Kelly,” Steve said, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
Her cell phone jangled, and Kelly stepped away from the table to answer. Lawyer Chambers came on the phone. “Kelly, I thought I’d fax you a description of Martha’s house and contents from my files. I figured you’d need it for your trip tomorrow.”
“Mr. Chambers, you’re a mind reader. I was just about to call you. Thanks so much.”
“It’s no bother, Kelly. One more thing. I’ve learned there are some alpacas on the ranch as well as sheep and cattle.”
“Alpacas?” Kelly exclaimed, causing everyone at the table to turn and stare. “What am I going to do with alpacas?”
“The same thing you do with sheep and cattle, Kelly,” Chambers said with a chuckle. “You count them, then decide to sell them or keep them. Take care and call me afterward. I’ll look forward to hearing from you.”
Once again, the wily old lawyer hung up before Kelly could register any more complaints. She swore she heard him laughing.
“You’ve got alpacas, too?” Megan asked. “Wow.”
“Yummy,” Jennifer decreed. “Think of all the wool.”
“Oh, brother, now I’ve got alpacas,” Kelly said to the heavens. “What next? Pigs and chickens?”
Megan giggled, but Steve patted Kelly on the shoulder as he turned to leave. “I think we’ve just filled that last seat in the truck. You’re going to need someone to advise you on the alpacas.”
“Can’t you and Curt do that?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nope. Curt and I are cattle and sheep guys. You need someone who can check out the herd, then look at the alpaca registry papers and estimate what they’re worth. I’m sure there’s paperwork there.” He grinned as he walked away. “See you bright and early tomorrow.”
Kelly stared after him. Today had just started, and it was already jam-packed. There weren’t enough hours to get everything done. Vickie’s accounts would take quite a chunk of time. Kelly shoved her scarf back into the bag and grabbed her mug. “It looks like my day just exploded,” she said with a good-bye wave. “I’ll see you two tomorrow morning. Jen, I’ll fax that house detail to your office as soon as I get it.” Without waiting for a reply, Kelly was out the door.
The printer hummed, and Kelly reached both arms high over her head to stretch. Leaning back into Vickie’s comfy desk chair, Kelly watched the pages of neat columns and figures drop into the printer tray.
It was dusk already, she noticed through the window, and she’d only finished half of what she’d planned to accomplish this afternoon. Of course, all the extra errands in town had slowed her down. Kelly rubbed her eyes. It had taken twice as long to enter all of the expenses since Vickie’s death. Darnit. She’d hoped to get this part finished before she took off for Wyoming tomorrow. She checked her watch. Maybe if she worked a couple of hours more.
“What is this?” Debbie said from her cluttered table across the room. “This can’t be right. Mom always paid her bills on time. She was scrupulous about that.”
Kelly groaned inwardly. Every time she thought she had all the expenses, either she or Debbie found more. They really needed Jayleen’s help, but when Kelly suggested it, Debbie shook her head no.
“Oh, great, there go the totals again,” Kelly said, deliberately heaving a dramatic sigh. “How much is it?
”
“Over five thousand dollars,” Debbie exclaimed. “That can’t be right.”
“Boy, that’s a lot of alpaca feed. Who’s the vendor?”
“It’s not a vendor. It’s some organization of alpaca breeders, I think. All it says is ‘Advance Registration Fees.’”
Kelly reached across the desk for the folder of assorted invoices and statements already paid. She thought she remembered one unpaid invoice in the pile. “Here’s the bill,” she announced, holding up the invoice. “And it’s dated June first. Everything else is paid. Wonder why this one isn’t.”
“That is so unlike Mom. I can’t understand it.”
Kelly saw an opportunity and decided to reopen a closed subject. “I bet Jayleen knows what’s up with this bill.” She glanced out the window toward the empty pastures. “Darn. We missed her. She’s already put the animals in and left. I wish we’d found it earlier. Why don’t I call her?”
Debbie’s mouth pinched in an expression Kelly was growing used to. “Yes, I suppose you’ll have to.”
“We could really use her help, Debbie,” Kelly tried again. “It’s taking us a lot longer to finish these accounts, because we’re having to find everything first.”
Debbie shook her head again. “No, we’re doing fine. I’d rather pay you and make sure everything’s done as it should be.”
Kelly sighed out loud and debated asking the one question that kept playing through her mind. Then she decided, what the hey, and jumped in. “Debbie, why don’t you like Jayleen? I mean, she’s a cousin. Everyone said she and your mom were very close. What’s up?”
Debbie fidgeted with the invoice for a moment. “I just don’t like her. She’s . . . she’s so rough and crude.” Debbie wrinkled up her face in displeasure.
“You mean the swearing and all that,” Kelly said, remembering Jayleen’s loud and liberal use of profanity when Lieutenant Peterson interviewed them.
Debbie rolled her eyes. “Yes, that, too, but she’s just so loud and stomps around. Like a bull in a china shop.”
Needled to Death Page 11
