Knit One, Kill Two

by Maggie Sefton

  “I’m fine,” Kelly said brightly. “My legs are a mess and they sting like crazy from the alcohol, but they’ll heal. I’m gonna have new scars to join the ones from softball.”

  Jennifer clearly wanted to hear more, but Kelly shook her head no and mouthed “later.” Steve rounded the corner from the classroom area, hammer in one hand and a cabinet door in the other. Spying Kelly, he immediately came over.

  “How’re you doing?” he asked quietly when Kelly gestured to the newcomer with Lisa.

  “I’m okay,” Kelly said, noticing the worried look. Everyone was worried. She almost felt guilty for causing such concern. “I used every bandage in Helen’s cabinet. But I’m okay. Now I’m getting mad.”

  “At the guy?”

  “Ohhhh yeah.”

  “That’s good. But maybe you’d better run on the creek-side trail from now on. There’re lots more people all the time on that trail.” He motioned around the table and toward Mimi’s office. “We all think you’d be safer there. You don’t want to give Mimi heart failure.” He smiled wryly.

  Kelly could tell he was forcing a smile for her sake. “I think that’s a good idea,” she agreed, reaching for her tote bag. “I don’t feel like scrambling through brush again any time soon.”

  Steve turned back to the half-finished cabinets hanging against the wall. “Promise me you won’t do anything crazy, okay?” he said over his shoulder.

  Kelly hesitated. Define crazy, she thought, but answered, “No plans to. But I will find out who he is. Depend on it.”

  Just then Burt strode into the main room and headed for Kelly. “Ahhh, there you are. Are you okay?” he asked as he drew up a chair.

  Another concerned face, Kelly observed. Now, she was really starting to feel guilty. Everyone in the shop was worried about her. She wasn’t used to that. “Yeah, a little scratched up, but that’s okay.”

  Burt glanced to the newcomer who was gathering her things together and thanking Lisa for her help. “I called my old partner and asked him to get the message to Morrison about Martha. And about your encounter on the trail this morning,” he said softly.

  Kelly noticed Jennifer leaning closer to hear. “Thanks, Burt. Let’s hope Morrison doesn’t dismiss Martha’s death as a copycat or try to explain it as another robbery gone bad,” she said with a sarcastic tone.

  Burt smiled at that. “Cut him some slack, Kelly. He’s a good man. He’ll figure it out.”

  Kelly didn’t need to register her doubts at that comment. Jennifer gave a disdainful snort. “I don’t know who this guy is, but he sounds like he couldn’t find his you-know-what with a flashlight.”

  Burt ducked his head, clearly trying to hide his grin. “Ohhh brother, you girls are brutal. Time for me to leave, before you pick on me.”

  Noticing Lisa’s student waving good-bye, Kelly brought her voice back to normal. “We’d never pick on you, Burt.”

  “Yeah,” Jennifer said with a grin. “You’re one of us.”

  “Thanks, Jennifer. Coming from you, that’s a compliment,” Burt said as he rose to leave. “Kelly, take care of yourself, okay? Take it easy the rest of today, why don’t you?”

  “Will do, Burt,” Kelly lied, picking up her knitting where she left off. “I’m going to sit here and knit.”

  “Good girl.” Burt nodded in satisfaction and waved as he left.

  True to her word, Kelly sat and knitted one row, then purled the next, getting her rhythm back, watching the neat rows of stockinette stitch appear.

  She’d sit here and knit—for a while. Long enough to lull everyone in the shop into relaxing. Then, she’d slip away and head to Stackhouse’s ranch while it was still afternoon. That’s when she and Steve found him there last week.

  Glancing to the side, she noticed Steve immersed in cabinetry. Jennifer concentrated on the scarlet bulky knit yarn she was knitting. Her needles were almost as large as the ones Kelly used for her scarf.

  “What’re you making?” she asked, purling easily now.

  “I thought I’d try that open-weave vest Megan showed me.”

  “We were all worried about you, Kelly,” Lisa’s voice interrupted across the table. “Megan told us all about it.” She shivered. “You really think it was, you know, the . . .”

  “Killer?” Jennifer finished the sentence. “Had to be. Who else would follow her out there?”

  A cell phone’s melodious jangle sounded. Lisa finished winding her long blonde ponytail and secured it with a rubberband before she grabbed her phone.

  Kelly waited until Lisa was absorbed in conversation before she leaned toward Jennifer. Instinct told her she should tell someone where she was going, just in case. Kelly deliberately didn’t think about the “in case” part.

  “Jen,” she whispered, glad Steve had left the room. “I’m going to run an errand, but I don’t want you to freak out when I tell you what it is, all right?”

  Jennifer’s large brown eyes widened even more. “Oh brother. This doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’ll be okay,” she said as much to convince herself as Jennifer. “I’m driving out to Stackhouse’s ranch in a few minutes. I’ll be back by dinner.”

  “Why? I thought you guys talked to him already.”

  “We did, but both Steve and I could tell he was lying when he said he really didn’t remember Helen. I think he remembered her a lot, judging from the look in his eyes.”

  “So?”

  “So, I want to ask him some more questions. Maybe he remembers something from the past that might help.”

  “There’s something you’re not saying. I can tell.”

  “Yeah,” Kelly admitted. “I want to see the expression on his face when I ask him about Martha.”

  “Are you crazy?” Jennifer retorted, clearly horrified by Kelly’s plan. “What if he’s the killer?”

  “Well, I’ll play stupid and jump in my car and drive home fast,” Kelly joked, hoping to deflect Jennifer’s objections and ease her own fears.

  Jennifer glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. “Yeah? And what if he doesn’t let you? What if he attacks you this time? Face it, Kelly, somebody was out to hurt you this morning.”

  The overwhelming sense of Jennifer’s objections began to override Kelly’s bravado. Frustration and anger and determination had all boiled together this morning while she’d showered and dressed. Adrenalin kicked in as well as she formulated her scheme. Perhaps it was crazy, but at least it had helped bury the grief and guilt over Martha’s death. Now, they were shoved down deep where Kelly couldn’t feel them.

  She let out a long sigh. “Yeah, I’ve thought of that, too,” she admitted.

  “Good. Now I know you didn’t get stupid overnight. You’d be crazy to go over there alone. If you want me to, I’ll go with you.”

  “No, he’d probably clam up—” Suddenly Kelly got a new idea. “Wait a minute, I know! I’ll take Carl with me. I’ll have him on his leash. Nobody in his right mind would try to attack me in front of my dog.”

  Jennifer opened her mouth as if to object, then closed it again. “Okay. But he’s gotta be on his leash right beside you. Promise?”

  “Promise,” Kelly agreed with a grin and put her knitting back into its tote bag.

  Carl shoved his smooth black head right beside Kelly’s as she headed down the road to Stackhouse’s ranch. She reached up and stroked a smooth ear. “Hold on, boy, we’re almost there,” she promised her excited dog. Carl had been pacing the back seat since they left. Pacing and falling flat, of course. Every time she turned a corner, he’s slip on the upholstery and lose his footing. Doggie wipe-out.

  Approaching the open barnyard area, Kelly scanned the outbuildings for Stackhouse. His huge black truck was parked on the graveled spot, so she figured he was home. But what if he wasn’t? Would she turn around and head back into town? Kelly admitted she didn’t have an alterna
te plan.

  Fortunately, that wasn’t necessary. Stackhouse appeared in the barn door, watching Kelly bring the car to a stop nearby. Parking swiftly, she grabbed the dangling end of Carl’s chain lease. With a dog as strong as Carl, she used an industrial-strength metal leash. “You have to behave, Carl,” she admonished him as she stepped out and opened the door for her dog. Carl bounded from the car, yanking Kelly at least two feet. She reined him in, glad she was strong, otherwise she’d be lying face first in the dirt right now.

  Kelly saw Stackhouse slowly approaching, so she went into the routine she’d practiced on the drive over. She hoped it sounded convincing.

  “Hello, Mr. Stackhouse,” she called cheerfully, waving her hand as she went to meet him.

  “Afternoon, Miss, uh, Ms. Flynn, isn’t it?” he replied, stopping a few feet away. “Nice dog. What’s his name?”

  Kelly noticed a wary expression on the rancher’s weather-beaten face, so she ramped up the wattage of her smile. “This is Carl, and I wanted to bring him out so he could see this gorgeous place you’ve got here. I can’t wait till Stevie and I can have some acreage of our own like this.” She glanced around appreciatively. Carl took one look at Stackhouse and pulled forward, clearly anxious to do a meet-and-sniff.

  Stackhouse smiled, just a little. “Hey, fella, how’re you doin’?” He held out his hand close enough for Carl to sniff.

  Carl sniffed thoroughly, then slurped with his long pink tongue. Stackhouse chuckled. Kelly took note that he’d passed her dog’s test. Carl was a good judge of character.

  “Don’t slobber on Mr. Stackhouse, Carl.”

  “That’s okay, Ms. Flynn.” Stackhouse caught her gaze. “Surely you didn’t drive all the way out here to show your dog the scenery. Is there something else, Ms. Flynn?”

  Kelly took a breath and plunged in, hoping she’d find her way. “Well, yes, Mr. Stackhouse, I, uh, well . . . I wanted to ask you again about my aunt, Helen Flynn Rosburg. You see, I kind of got the impression when we spoke last week that you really did remember her. But something was holding you back. Or maybe you were embarrassed or something.”

  She was desperately hoping Stackhouse would volunteer a comment at that point, which she could use to bounce off of, but he didn’t. He stood there, observing her with his Stetson pulled low over his eyes, shading his face. He said nothing. So Kelly stumbled on.

  “You see . . . I’m trying to find anyone that might have known my aunt all those years ago. I’ve got this . . . this strong feeling that her death was caused by something in her past. Perhaps something that happened.”

  Still no reply from Stackhouse. He stood like a cowboy statue, staring at her. Kelly felt the sweat start to bead on her forehead. She distracted herself by patting Carl’s side. He was busily checking out ground smells. A lot more than squirrels lived in these pastures.

  To her immense relief, Stackhouse finally spoke. “That was a long time ago, Ms. Flynn. What makes you think I know anything?”

  Kelly met his steady gaze and gambled. “Instinct, Mr. Stackhouse. My gut tells me you did know Helen. I saw it in your eyes,” she said, hoping blatant honesty might earn her a few points.

  Stackhouse held her gaze for an excruciating minute, then glanced toward the forest edging his pastures. “You’ve got good instincts, Ms. Flynn. I’ll give you that.”

  Kelly blinked, surprised that her honesty had been matched. “You knew Helen, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Ms. Flynn, I knew her. In fact, I’ll never forget her. She was the first girl I ever fell in love with. And the only one to break my heart.”

  This time, Kelly couldn’t contain her surprise. Stackhouse clearly noticed, and a wry smile tugged at the rancher’s mouth. “Why don’t we take a walk,” he suggested, pointing toward the pasture. “That way Carl can chase what he’s smelling.”

  He led the way into his open pasture, Kelly and Carl following. Now that she was knee-high in the spring grass, she noticed the varied shadings of early green, from chartreuse to lime. Approaching a small clearing, Stackhouse stopped and grabbed a stick at his feet. He held it up to Carl. Carl was already two steps ahead of him and began to yelp, eager to play.

  “You want this, Carl?” Stackhouse tempted. “Go get it.” And he tossed the stick in an arching throw.

  Not a bad throw, Kelly had to admit, and released the leash just as Carl lunged forward. Watching her “protection” race off into the high grass, Kelly hoped this new feeling she had about Stackhouse was correct. There was an honesty coming off the man, and she didn’t think he was faking it. Her antennae were sharp, and she had yet to pick up any uneasiness or deception on his part.

  That surprised her. She’d convinced herself all morning that Stackhouse’s wary expression last week signaled something dark. Now that she was here, she felt no threat whatsoever. She’d better be right, because Carl had disappeared into the grass now. If Stackhouse really was a clever killer, he could dispose of her out here in the pasture. No one would find her in the grass, save Carl and the ravens. The memory of the huge bird’s warning caused a secondary pause.

  She decided to break the ice, hoping Stackhouse would explain his tantalizing comment. “That sounds like you and my aunt had some, uhh, shared history together.”

  “Yeah,” he said with a nod. “We shared a few moments of history, you might say. I wanted a lot more than that, but Helen didn’t.”

  This time it was Kelly’s turn to stare silently, waiting for Stackhouse to continue.

  “We went through high school together.” He stared off into the grass, where Carl’s head bobbed occasionally. “And I had a crush on her the whole four years. I must have asked her out a thousand times. Helen would laugh and tease me, but never say yes to a date. In fact, I don’t think she dated anyone. I never saw her with any other boys, either.”

  Kelly kept her silence, not wanting to interrupt the reminiscence. Obviously, Aunt Helen had cleverly concealed her real affections from everyone.

  “But, I sensed there was someone else. I’d swear to it.”

  “What made you think so?”

  He turned to Kelly with a wide smile. “Instinct, Ms. Flynn. Same as you.”

  “Did she drop any clues about this person?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, not a one. But I got the feeling that she was protecting him for some reason. Can’t explain it. Just a hunch.”

  “And you never saw her dating any of the other boys?”

  “Nope. She’d flirt with some of them, but nothing more. Hell, she wouldn’t even talk to most of the boys. I felt kind of special. Helen liked to talk to me. She’d let me walk her to and from class. I don’t know why she picked me and none of the others.”

  “I do,” Kelly declared with a grin. “I saw your photo in the high school yearbook. You were a handsome devil, Mr. Stackhouse.” She figured Lizzie’s vocabulary would come in handy about now. “Matter of fact, you’re still handsome.”

  Stackhouse slanted a look her way. “You’ve got your aunt’s charm, that’s for sure. And you can call me Curt. I don’t stand on much formality.”

  “Kelly,” she offered in kind.

  “You even resemble her, you know? There’s a look that comes in your eye that’s pure Helen.” He grinned. “Maybe that’s why I’m talking like a damn fool right now.”

  “It’s never foolish to admit falling in love, Mister, uhh, Curt. And I find your honesty refreshing. Some boys would have dropped a girl like Helen once she turned them down. Yet, you two stayed friends.”

  Stackhouse gazed past Kelly’s shoulder toward the sprawling ranch house in the distance. “We were close until summer of our senior year, then she stopped talking to me.”

  Kelly did some mental arithmetic. Early spring would have been when Helen conceived the child she later gave up. “What happened to change your friendship?” she probed.

  Stackhouse stared into the p
asture for a long moment. The only thing that broke the silence were the cries of annoyed birds that Carl had unwittingly flushed. “I guess it won’t be disloyal to talk about it,” he said in a subdued voice. He drew in a breath. “We . . . well, we became intimate one night. The night after graduation, in fact.” He shook his head. “I still remember as if it were yesterday. It was a warm spring night in late May.” He gazed off toward the mountains this time, clearly reminiscing.

  Kelly, meanwhile, was making an effort not to let her jaw drop. She hadn’t expected to hear this, especially after he’d emphasized that Helen refused to even date him. Waiting as politely as she could while Stackhouse enjoyed his memories, Kelly couldn’t hold her curiosity a moment longer. “Wow. That’s quite a bombshell, Curt. I trust you’re planning to explain Helen’s sudden change in behavior. You can’t just leave me hanging like this.”

  He looked up and grinned sheepishly. “Well, I reckon I owe you an explanation.”

  “Damn right.”

  He laughed. “You get more and more like Helen the longer I talk to you. She didn’t mince words, either.”

  Remembering her aunt’s occasional “salty” language, Kelly smiled. “Thanks, but get back to explaining. What made Helen change her mind? She wouldn’t even date you before. Did something happen at graduation?”

  “Not that I remember. It was just all us kids surrounded by our families, posing in those caps and gowns, feeling awkward and proud at the same time.”

  “Did you see her there with her family?”

  “Yep, she looked happy like everyone else, posing for pictures.”

  “How’d you get together that night, then? Did you call her or meet her?” Kelly prodded.

  “Nope,” he said with a bemused expression. “That was the strangest part. She came over to see me. Drove over in her father’s old Ford truck. My family had just returned from the high school as I recall. Then, there’s Helen ringing our doorbell. You could have knocked me over with a feather.”