by Mary Kruger
“I have? When?”
“As you said, why your shop?”
“Don’t you see, that’s why I have to do it?” she burst out. “Whoever killed Edith went after me, too. How can I let someone try to ruin my life?”
“He—or she—might well try again.”
Ari set her chin stubbornly, a look her mother would have recognized. “He—or she,” she said, deliberately mimicking him, “thinks the murder’s been solved. Case closed, as you said.”
Josh rubbed at the back of his head. “I can’t help you, you know.”
“I know.” Ari nodded. It was what she’d expected, and yet her spirits sank. If she went on with the investigation, as she’d just insisted she must, she’d be alone, without any backing. It was a frightening thought.
“Not officially, anyway.”
That made her look up. “What do you mean?”
“You promise to be careful?”
“Of course I do. I’m not stupid.”
“And let me know whatever you find out?”
She sucked in her breath. “You’ll help?”
“Yeah, but quietly. If I get found out there’ll be trouble.”
Again she nodded. She couldn’t guess what the consequences to him would be. “I know.”
“For you, too, you know.”
“Oh?” she said in surprise. “Why?”
“Obstructing justice, for one thing.”
“For Pete’s sake.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“I don’t care. I have to do this.”
“Why?”
“For Diane, and myself, too.” And because of curiosity, and a sense of things not finished. “My livelihood’s been threatened.”
“All the more reason for you to stay out of it, Ari.”
“I’ll be careful. Are you really with me on this?”
“Only if you don’t hold anything back from me again.”
Ari looked down into her cup. “I promise,” she said finally, reluctantly.
“Good. Now, let’s think of how we’re going to do this….”
The phone rang while Ari was adding up a customer’s purchases. “Ariadne’s Web,” she said, wedging the receiver between her ear and her shoulder.
“Ari? It’s Susan. Did they really arrest Joe Camacho?”
Ari gave the customer her change, along with a distracted smile. “Yes, it’s true.”
“Of all people! It just shows you that you never really know someone.”
“He’s innocent.”
“There must be some reason for them to arrest him. I’m so relieved.”
“Relieved?” Ari asked, startled, and mouthed a “thank you” to the customer as she handed her her bag.
“Aren’t you? My Kait’s not in danger anymore.”
“She never was, Susan.”
“Wasn’t she? You were.”
“I was not,” Ari protested, in spite of what she really believed.
“Of course you were. Now that’s all behind you. You don’t have to worry about the shop anymore.”
Ari frowned slightly. So Susan had reached the same conclusion that others had, that for some reason Ari had been a target. “It’s a hard thing, though.”
“Oh, I would imagine. You would think, though, that since Diane’s your friend and—”
“Susan, I’m sorry,” Ari interrupted her. “We’re pretty busy here and I can’t really talk.”
“I’m sorry,” Susan said. “I’m just stunned.”
“I know. Susan, I have to go—”
“There’s something else,” Susan said quickly. “Kaitlyn wanted me to call, too.”
“Oh?” Ari shrugged and grimaced at a customer who was holding up a skein of yarn, to indicate an apology for not being able to help.
“Yes. She’s finished the website. I think you’ll be pleased with it, Ari.”
At the moment, the website held little interest for her. “I’m sure I will. Tell her to call me about it.”
“Oh, wait, I have another call,” Susan said.
Ari sighed as the phone went temporarily dead. She hated call waiting. “I’m sorry,” she said to the customer. “I’ll be right with you—yes?”
“That was Kait,” Susan said. “She heard the news, too.”
Ari let out another sigh. “Susan, I really have to go—”
“I won’t keep you. Just one more thing. Kait wants to come in some night to install the website, but I—”
“Susan!” Ari said, more forcefully. “I have to hang up.”
There was a brief silence. “I see,” Susan said, sounding offended, and abruptly hung up.
Ari stared at the receiver for a moment before putting it down. “I am so sorry,” she said, coming out from behind the counter to go to the customer. “Can I help you?”
“Susan Silveira?” the customer said shrewdly.
“Yes.”
“She thinks the sun rises and sets on that girl.”
“I know. Now, what can I do for you?” she asked, and listened as the customer explained her dilemma about which yarn to pick for a project. Her project seemed supremely unimportant at the moment. So did the damned website. Joe had been arrested for murder. That was what she’d have to do something about.
eleven
JOE CAMACHO WAS ARRAIGNED ON TUESDAY in New Bedford Superior Court. As the arresting officer, Josh was present. So was Ari, sitting stony-faced on one of the benches, and so, of course, were the media. When the short hearing was over, Joe was bundled back into the sheriff’s van and returned to the Bristol County House of Correction. There he would remain until his trial, since bail was automatically denied in cases of first-degree murder.
Parking was always hard to find on the narrow and busy streets near the old courthouse. As a result, Ari had had to park several blocks away. After dodging several persistent reporters, she finally made her way down William Street. She had just unlocked her car door when she heard her name called. Steeling herself for more curiosity and questions, she turned, and blinked in surprise. Herb Perry, Edith’s widower, was hurrying down the hill toward her.
“Mr. Perry!” she said in surprise. She’d spoken to him only once since Edith’s death, to give her condolences. She certainly hadn’t expected to talk to him today. But why not? she asked herself. Before Joe’s arrest, Herb had been considered a suspect. In her mind he still was.
“Ariadne.” Herb wasn’t much to look at. He was about the same height as Edith had been, and as thin and compact. They had looked alike, more like brother and sister than husband and wife. His white hair was thinning on top, and his features, which probably hadn’t been extraordinary to begin with, had coarsened with age. Yet his eyes were bright and alert. Warning bells went off within Ari.
“I’m sorry about everything,” she blurted. “Really sorry. It was a terrible way for you to lose your wife.”
“It was.” Hands in his pockets, he looked away. “Christ, I’d’ve never picked Joe as a killer. Hell of a nice guy, is Joe.”
“Yes.” Ari fiddled with her keys. Being with Herb under the circumstances made her uneasy. “Is there something you want to talk to me about?”
“Yeah, but not here. Suppose I come by your shop?”
“Good heavens!” She stared at him. “Do you know what people will make of that? Everyone will be coming in to find out what we’re talking about.”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing much. Can’t do it till tomorrow, though. Got Eric coming by tonight. What d’you think?”
Ari thought quickly. She could ask her mother to stay with Megan for a little while, pleading the amount of work that had piled up this past week. She wasn’t sure that her mother would be fooled, but she would probably agree.
“All right,” she said finally. “Tomorrow I’ll stay at the shop for a little while after I close up.” At six P.M. it wouldn’t yet be completely dark. She would also keep the shade on the door up and the lights on, and stay where people outsid
e could see her. She hadn’t forgotten that this man might have killed his wife, though with someone in custody she didn’t think Herb would be a threat to her.
“Okay. Has to be after six, though.”
“Fine, that will be after I close. You know where it is? Dumb question. Of course you do.”
“Yeah. I worked there once, you know.”
“Worked where?”
“In your building, when it was a hardware store.”
About to unlock her car, Ari jerked her head up in surprise. Oh, no. It couldn’t be true. It was too coincidental to be real. If she came across this in a novel, she’d throw the book against the wall.
“Well.” What did she say to that? she wondered. “That was a long time ago.” And the locks had been changed, so she had no reason to worry.
“Yeah. Oh, Christ.” He was glancing up the street at some people hurrying toward them. “Reporters. I gotta get out of here.”
Ari was surprised that the press hadn’t followed Herb there in the first place. “Me, too.” She wrenched her car door open and all but fell inside. In her rearview mirror she could see Herb, sprinting with surprising speed for someone his age, toward a huge boat of a Cadillac parked across the street. The reporters were in hot pursuit. She breathed in a sigh of relief when she saw him get safely inside before they could reach him.
The encounter made Ari’s stomach queasy with nerves and doubts. As she waited glumly at the approach to the New Bedford–Fairhaven Bridge, though, she started to settle down. Since the bridge was closed to cars to let a fishing boat head out to sea, she had plenty of time to think. She even felt some anticipation. She wasn’t taking her friend’s arrest meekly. She was going to do something about it. Being alone with a possible murderer might not exactly be wise, but she didn’t really think anything would happen. She’d be very, very careful. Her only real worry was what he wanted to talk to her about.
A little while later, Ari stepped into her shop. The bells over the door chimed, rang, and then suddenly clanged as they fell down with a whoosh and landed with a discordant thud on her shoulder. “Yikes!” she exclaimed, jumping to the side and staring up at the doorjamb where the bells had hung. “How the heck did that happen?”
“Are you all right?” Laura demanded, hurrying toward her from behind the sales counter.
“I think so.” Her hand to her shoulder, Ari continued to stare at the doorjamb. “I’ll have one heck of a bruise, though.”
“Maybe you should have it checked, dear.”
“No, I’m okay. More surprised than anything.”
“Then come have a cup of tea.” Laura bustled into the office. “Was it ghastly this morning?”
Ari grimaced. “It wasn’t fun. I’d better check to see what happened here, before a customer comes in and gets hurt.”
“I think the damage has already been done.”
“Regardless.” Ari climbed onto a small stepladder and frowned at the screw holes she’d drilled for the bells. “Hmm. Both look a little rough,” she said after a moment. “I don’t think I could screw it back on where it was.”
“But how could they have just pulled out?”
“I don’t know. You know what this looks like?”
“What?”
“I think the top screw came loose, probably from the door opening, and then put too much strain on the other one. That’s why they came out. Ouch.” She rubbed her shoulder again as she climbed down. “I’ll have to drill new holes and put them up again.”
“Maybe Ted can do it. After all, you’re hurt, dear.”
“Huh. I know more about using power tools than he does. Anyway, I’d rather wait until we’re closed, so no customers are coming in.” She turned and walked into the shop, wincing as she shrugged off the Scandinavian cardigan her grandmother had made her long ago. “Has anything interesting happened today?”
“Not particularly. There were a few people in, but most of them didn’t buy anything.”
Ari nodded. “I thought things would slack off, now that everyone thinks the murderer’s been caught. I do imagine that once people get back from the arraignment they’ll be coming in.”
“Why don’t you go home, Ari? You should put ice on that shoulder.”
Ari stood in the doorway to her office, considering the idea. She rarely took time away from the shop, and she was suddenly tired of being there. The last week had been difficult, and her shoulder did hurt. “Yes, I think I will.”
“The best thing you can do, dear. Can you drive?”
“I’ll manage.” Ari looked up at where the bells had once hung, and sighed. She’d rehang them tomorrow. It promised to be an interesting day.
Kaitlyn walked in late the next afternoon. “Hey,” she said, stopping at the door and looking up. “What happened to the bells?”
“They just fell off,” Ari said from behind the sales counter.
“By themselves? Weird.”
“They landed on Ari,” Laura said, looking up from the rocking chair, where she was now working on the garnet fake fur scarf. “On her shoulder.”
Kaitlyn looked at Ari. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, just a little sore.”
Laura shot her a look. “Too sore to put them up again.”
“I’ll do it for you,” Kaitlyn offered.
“Thanks, but I didn’t bring the drill. One more day won’t matter. You look happy today.”
“I got an ‘A,’ Ari!”
“On one of your designs? That’s wonderful.”
“Yes. I asked if I could submit something for extra credit, and he really liked it.”
“Terrific. Is it one I’ve seen?”
“No, but I’ll bring it in.” Kaitlyn followed Ari into the office and sat down at the desk. Her eyes fixed on the computer screen.
“Do you mind if I watch?” Laura had come into the office, too, and was peering at the screen as Kaitlyn brought up the web page.
“Well, okay,” Kaitlyn said shortly, after a moment.
Ari heard Laura huff in surprise, or offense, behind her. But then, she and Kaitlyn never had liked each other much. “Of course,” Ari said. “You’ll be using it, too. Show us, Kaitlyn.”
“Okay.” Once again Kaitlyn led Ari through the website, from the opening page to the last ordering screen. When she was done, she sat back and looked at Ari questioningly. “What do you think?”
Ari blinked. She had been concentrating on her shoulder rather than on the computer. “I think it looks fine.”
If Kaitlyn was offended at this less than enthusiastic response, she didn’t show it. “Should I put it up on the net, then?”
Oh, why not? “Yes.”
Kaitlyn’s face brightened. “Good! It’ll take a few minutes. I have to transfer the files from here to the web host.” She worked in silence for a while, hitting various keys. “There,” she said finally, sounding satisfied and triumphant. “Done.”
Ari leaned forward. “Really? Just like that?”
“Yeah. Let’s change seats, and you can call it up. Type in the address—there, look at that!”
“My goodness,” Ari murmured, sitting back as the logo Kaitlyn had designed for her appeared on the screen. “It works.”
“Of course it does. Oh, look at that.” Kaitlyn was grinning. “Finally, one of my designs is successful.”
Ari shot her a surprised glance. “Of course it is.”
“It looks good,” Laura said from behind them.
Ari hoped that only she heard the grudging note in Laura’s voice. “This is so strange.”
“What?” Kaitlyn asked.
“To think that anyone in the world could see this.”
“I keep telling you, Ari, that you should go online more,” Laura said.
“It wastes too much time.”
“You’ll have no choice now, once you start getting orders,” Kaitlyn said, and turned as someone called to them from the shop. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
“I
came to see how the website is doing,” Susan said. “What a nice job you did, Kait.”
“Yes, didn’t she?” Ari said, as surprised to see her as Kaitlyn was. Susan was not a knitter.
Kaitlyn fidgeted a bit. “I thought you were showing a house this afternoon.”
“Oh, I am, but I wanted to see this first,” Susan said. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Mom,” Kaitlyn protested.
“She did very well,” Laura said calmly, and then turned as she heard a voice in the shop. “We’re in here, Barb.”
“What are you doing?” Barbara Watson, one of Ari’s regular customers and Laura’s crony, looked into the office. “What happened to the bells?”
“They fell.” Ari was beginning to feel claustrophobic, with everyone clustered around her. “We’re looking at my web page.”
“Really? Let me see.” Barbara peered over her reading glasses. “It’s about time you entered this millennium, Ari.”
“Exactly what I’ve been telling her,” Laura said.
“Are you going to have any patterns available?”
“Of course I am. That’s the whole point.”
“I didn’t mean that. I meant, sample patterns.”
Ari stared at her. “Give them away, you mean? The whole point of this is to make money.”
“A lot of people have put free patterns online,” Barbara said.
“Really? Why would they do that?”
“Sometimes it’s the only way for people to publish their ideas,” Kaitlyn said quietly.
Ari turned to her. “Have you done that?”
“What, and lose my copyright? If I tried to publish in print later, I wouldn’t be able to because of that.” She paused. “When I was first learning how to make web pages, I did put a design on my own site, though, a simple one. A scarf in garter stitch.”
“Well, anyone can make one of those, so that’s okay.”
“It was for beginners,” Kaitlyn said defensively.
“And it was nice,” Susan said firmly. “Of course, though, she’s right. Why give something away for free?”
Barbara was leaning over Ari’s shoulder. “Ari, haven’t you ever looked at anything to do with knitting online?”
“No. I told you, I think the Internet is a waste of time.” She sat back. “Once I start looking at things, I tend to keep going, and I have too much else to do. I have this shop.” She waved her hand toward the selling area. “Running your own business is twenty-four/seven. So is being a mother. I have to find some time to work on new designs. And somewhere in there I have to get housework done.”
