Mimi and Burt looked at each other. “You know, we hadn’t even thought about all that. Maybe we do need to make some plans.”
Kelly savored the delectable flavors of fresh strawberries and delicate pie crust melting over her tongue. Yum. “Plans are good, Mimi.”
Curt rose from his chair and raised his coffee mug high. “To Mimi and Burt. Two of the nicest people I know. Who were also smart enough to find each other the second time around. To many more years of happiness together.”
Kelly and all her friends raised their mugs and echoed their congratulations while Burt beamed and Mimi teared up.
Dabbing at her eyes, she said, “Curt, that is so sweet. It was so romantic.”
“The next time we say a few words, it’ll be over champagne,” Curt said with a smile. “My treat.”
Eleven
“Kelly, can you hand me that tangerine-colored yarn, please?” Mimi reached over the table where she was surrounded by students focused on their individual crochet projects.
Kelly looked into the bins behind her and found the vibrant wool and mohair yarn Mimi was seeking and handed it over.
Mimi’s Easy Crochet class was filled. Kelly had been lucky to find a seat at the table as an observer. All she wanted was some quick run-through on basic technique.
Now that she’d managed to crochet an edge around the knitted washcloth at the retreat, Kelly wondered if she could move up to another project. Mimi’s Easy Crochet class would be the perfect place to start.
Kelly’s cell phone jangled, and she turned in her chair to answer. Clearly, crochet would have to wait for another day.
“Kelly, are you over at the shop right now?” Burt asked.
“Yeah, I’m in Mimi’s crochet class,” she said in a lowered voice so as not to bother the other class members.
“Well, I think you’d better get back to your place because you’ll be receiving a rather important phone call pretty soon.”
This time, Kelly left the table. There was something different about Burt’s voice. It was sharper than usual. “Who’s calling?”
“Detective Peterson wants to talk to you.”
“So he’s started interviewing people, huh?”
“Oh, yes. And imagine his surprise when a couple of the people he was questioning said they witnessed you threaten Cal Everett.”
“What? That’s crazy! I didn’t threaten him—”
“Apparently they say you did.” Burt’s voice acquired a disappointed-parent tone. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Kelly?”
“I had a conversation with Everett, that was all,” Kelly admitted, feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
“What kind of conversation?”
“Well . . . it was . . .”
“Was it about Jennifer?”
“Uh . . . yeah.”
“And, what did you say?”
“Well, I can’t remember exactly,” she hedged. “I kind of told him what I thought about him.”
“Uh-huh.” Burt’s tone turned skeptical. He could always tell when she was straying from the truth. “Did you ‘kind of’ tell him in a forceful way?”
“Weeeellll . . .”
“Kelly, stop dancing,” Burt scolded. “Tell me what you said.”
“Okay, I told him that he’d better not get anywhere near Jennifer again, or he’d have to deal with me. And Jennifer’s friends.”
“That sounds like a threat to me, Kelly. Did you also happen to tell him that one of those friends was a former police detective who would be watching for his license plate if he drove in Fort Connor?”
Oooops. She had said that, hadn’t she? Oh, well. Better ’fess up. “I might have.”
A long sigh came over the phone, and Kelly could picture Burt shaking his head. “Kelly, that also constitutes a threat and harassment.”
“Okay, so I got a little carried away—”
“A little? You threatened Everett in front of witnesses. Don’t you realize that makes you a possible suspect in Peterson’s eyes?”
“What! He can’t be serious.”
“Try telling that to Peterson. Threatening someone is serious, Kelly.”
“I was only trying to protect Jennifer.”
“I know you were, but that was not the way to do it. Your intentions may have been good, but they were misguided, and now you’ll have to explain to Peterson. I’m just glad he already knows you.”
“He can’t seriously think I’m a suspect, can he?” Kelly didn’t think that was logical at all.
“It’s his job to consider everyone who might have a grudge against Everett. So, you’d better get over to your place where there’s some peace and quiet. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Call me when it’s over. Bye.” Burt clicked off.
Kelly quietly made her way back to the crochet class, retrieved her barely started project, and left the shop. Burt was right. She’d need a quiet place to find the right words for Peterson.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have much time to practice. Her cell phone rang as soon as she entered the cottage living room. Recognizing the county policeman’s phone number, Kelly took a deep breath and answered.
“Kelly Flynn, here.”
“Good afternoon, Ms. Flynn. Lieutenant Peterson, here. If you have a few moments, I’d like to ask you some more questions about the weekend that Cal Everett died.”
“Certainly, Detective Peterson. What would you like to know?” Kelly started a slow stroll about the small room. She thought better when she was moving.
“We have your statement describing the confrontation between Everett and the rancher named Bill,” Peterson said, his voice relaxed and folksy as usual. “What I’m wondering is why you neglected to tell me about your own confrontation with Cal Everett earlier that afternoon.”
Bull’s-eye. Peterson didn’t waste time beating around the bush. He went straight for the target. Kelly took a deep breath before giving Peterson her version. “Well, I wouldn’t call it a confrontation exactly.”
“We have two witnesses, ranch staff workers, who were standing within earshot of this exchange, and they both stated that you threatened Cal Everett. Would you like to elaborate on their version, Ms. Flynn?”
Kelly knew from her earlier conversation with Burt that any hedging or “dancing about the facts” would only make her look worse in Peterson’s eyes. It was time to come clean.
“I wanted to make sure that Everett stayed away from a friend of mine. A friend he had . . . he’d hurt a few months ago. So I told Cal Everett that if he ever got near my friend again, he’d have to deal with me. And all her friends felt the same way. Now, I admit that my actions may have been clumsy, but I was only trying to protect my friend.” She paused. “Cal Everett was a predator, Detective. I’m sure if you started looking into his background, you’d find he was a nasty piece of work.”
Peterson was quiet for half a minute. “We have investigated Everett, and I agree, he was definitely no Boy Scout.”
Kelly gave a derisive snort in reply.
“But, nevertheless, Ms. Flynn, threatening someone with bodily harm is a crime in itself. I’m sure you’re aware of that. And according to the witnesses, you threatened Everett with physical beating at the hands of some of your friends. Would you like to elaborate on the identity of those friends? Could one of them be the young man who came to your defense last year in Bellevue Canyon?”
She wasn’t sure, but Kelly thought she detected a slight trace of amusement in Peterson’s tone. “Yes, I was referring to my boyfriend.”
“I figured as much. From what I heard, he flattened a suspect who was under police custody at the time.”
“Knocked him out cold, Detective. One punch.”
“I see. Well, I think you’ll agree that was an entirely different situation, Ms. Flynn. And threatening Cal Everett with the same fate would not be treated with the same leniency.”
“I understand, Dete
ctive. Rest assured, that situation will never be repeated.”
“Rest assured? I certainly hope so.” He paused. “Would you like to tell me the name of the friend you’re so valiantly trying to protect?”
Kelly hesitated. “Uhhhh, I’d rather not.”
Peterson paused again. “Never mind, Ms. Flynn. I think I have a pretty good idea of whom we’re talking about.”
He probably does, Kelly figured. “Was there anything else, Detective?”
“Not for the moment, Ms. Flynn. But don’t make plans to leave the area anytime soon, all right? I may need to speak with you again.”
The unsettled feeling returned to Kelly’s gut. “I’ll be here, Detective Peterson. I’m not going anywhere.”
Kelly sipped the delicious butternut squash soup. A perfect choice for a rainy spring night. Glancing at friends around the restaurant table, she noticed no one had ordered pizza this time. It was definitely a soup and sandwich night.
“Burt told me Detective Peterson is questioning everyone again about that retreat weekend. Has he contacted you yet, Kelly?” Lisa asked before tipping back her microbrew.
Kelly took a drink of her favorite ale before answering. She figured she might as well tell the truth. Her friends would find out anyway and be annoyed if she withheld information. Might as well ease into it.
“As a matter of fact, he called this morning.”
“Did some new information turn up or something?” Marty asked after polishing off his sandwich.
“Not really. Burt told me he’d heard that Peterson reopened the investigation at the request of the medical examiner.” She tasted her soup again. Delicious. “He wants to make sure Everett’s death was accidental. Apparently he was concerned about the angle at which Everett fell off the deck.”
“What’s to worry about?” Lisa said, reaching for the baguette in the bread basket. “He was plastered and took a dive over the rail.”
“Good riddance,” Greg added, then upended his beer.
“So, what did he ask you this time?” Steve asked, taking the baguette Lisa offered. “Did you remember something that you hadn’t told him before?”
Kelly leaned back in her chair and swished her ale, watching it foam in the brown bottle. “Yeah . . . kind of.”
Steve turned and eyed her. “There’s something you’re not saying. What is it?”
Leave it to Steve. He was as bad as Burt. Both of them could tell when she was hiding something. Brother. Was she that easy to read?
Lisa leaned over the table. “Did you see something? Or someone sneaking around that night?”
“No, I didn’t see anybody sneaking around.”
“Then what aren’t you saying?” Steve probed.
“Spill it, Kelly, now you’ve got us curious,” Greg said, finishing his soup.
Kelly released a dramatic sigh, and decided to play it nonchalant. “I’d forgotten to tell Detective Peterson about the conversation I had with Everett that afternoon,” she said, trying to sound casual. “Apparently two of the ranch workers saw me talking with him and told Peterson. That’s all.” She shrugged, hoping they would buy it. They didn’t.
Steve’s hand came up in “stop” mode. “Wait a minute. You had a conversation with Everett?”
“Yeah. And it got a little heated, so those staffers thought it was a confrontation—”
Both hands up now. “Hold it. How ‘heated’ are we talking about here?”
Lisa’s eyes popped wide. “Kelly, you didn’t tell me that!”
Marty leaned on the table. “I’m curious as to why those staffers would call it confrontational.”
Kelly took a sip of ale before continuing. Fortification. If Attorney Marty was weighing in, she was in trouble. “Maybe because they heard me tell Everett to stay away from Jennifer. And if he didn’t, he’d have to deal with me.”
“Jeeeez . . .”
“Kelly, what were you thinking?”
“She wasn’t.”
“Go, Tiger.”
“Hey, guys, I was just trying to protect Jennifer, and I went a little overboard.”
“You think?” Steve stared at her incredulously.
“Let’s ask the House Lawyer,” Greg teased. “Does that constitute a threat?”
“Yeah, technically,” Marty replied with a grin. “But I doubt Peterson would get too excited about it because this Everett was a big guy, and it’s kind of unlikely Kelly could beat him up.”
Kelly stared at her empty bottle. Maybe she could order another one and deflect their concentration. She could feel them all staring at her.
No such luck.
“Unless . . .” Marty continued, “she threatened Everett with something else.”
“I need another one,” Kelly called to the passing waiter.
“Oh, God . . .”
“She needs another beer. This is gonna be good.”
“Kelly!”
“She’s gone quiet. It’s gotta be bad.”
“What did you say, Kelly?”
Kelly looked around the table and gave her friends a disarming smile. “I simply told him that he’d also have to deal with a couple of Jennifer’s friends who wanted to beat him up.”
Greg arched a brow. “That would be us, I take it?”
“That would be us,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Damn, Kelly . . .”
Marty sank back into his chair, hand over his eyes. “And that would be a threat. In front of witnesses, yet.”
“Hey, guys, Everett is dead, so it’s not likely he’s going to press charges, right?” Kelly countered, accepting the replenished ale.
“That’s true,” Megan said. “So, Kelly won’t be charged with anything.”
“Unfortunately, Peterson is now investigating this as a murder,” Marty explained. “Which means Kelly has just gone to the top of his list of people at the retreat who may have wanted Everett dead.”
“No way!” Megan retorted.
“Yeah, way,” Marty, Steve, Greg, and Lisa chimed in unison.
Kelly listened to her friends argue about her fate while she sipped the delicious ale. Deciding there was no way she could allay their concerns, she decided on the only possible end to this conversation. Total surrender.
“Okay, guys, you’re right. I screwed up. Big-time. But before they haul my butt off to jail, can we get an order of chocolate chip cookies?”
Twelve
“I was hoping I’d find you here this morning,” Lisa said as she approached the knitting table. “What’s that you’re working on?”
“It’s supposed to be a small rectangular table topper,” Kelly replied. “But if I screw it up, it’ll turn into a place mat for Carl. I sat in on Mimi’s crochet class and thought I’d try a practice piece. I figure if it turns out really awful, I’ll unravel it and reuse the yarn.”
“I’m glad to see you do crochet. It’s about time you tried something different.” Lisa settled into a chair and removed a skein of Mimi’s hand-dyed rose pink yarn. She began casting stitches onto her knitting needles.
“You didn’t have physical therapy clients this morning?”
“No, I rescheduled because Detective Peterson dropped by the clinic for my interview.”
Kelly smiled. “How was it? Better than mine, I’m sure.”
“It wasn’t bad. I simply repeated everything I’d told him before.” Her smile faded. “However, after your experience, I started looking back with new eyes, and I remembered something.”
“What?”
“You weren’t the only one at the retreat who had a confrontation with Everett that night. Remember Jane telling us that she ‘called him out’ when she saw him on his front porch?”
Kelly had forgotten. “Oh, yeah, she did. But that sounded like she gave him a piece of her mind, that’s all.”
“Still, a confrontation is a confrontation in my book,” Lisa said with an emphatic nod. “And I wanted to make sure Peterson knew about it.”
Kelly could tell
her friend was sticking up for her just in case Marty’s dire prediction proved true. The idea of being on Detective Peterson’s Most-Likely-to-Do-Something-Bad list was not pleasant.
“Thanks, Lisa. I appreciate your efforts to make sure I’m not alone on Peterson’s list. That was sweet of you to come to my defense.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”
Kelly smiled to herself. Lisa hated the idea of being “sweet.” She liked to think of herself as the take-charge leader, organizing everything in sight. In reality, Megan was the hard-as-nails Trail Boss, and Lisa was the Worrier and Caregiver. The Warrior role Kelly had taken for herself.
“Did he say if he’d interviewed Jennifer yet? I haven’t had a chance to talk with her because they were swamped at the café when I came in a little while ago.”
“He asked me where would be the best place to catch Jennifer to ask questions, her real estate office or the café. I told him she worked mornings at the café, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he showed up.” She glanced out the window. “Actually, that’s another reason I rescheduled everybody. I wanted to be here in case he does talk to Jen today. That’s bound to be hard for her.”
“You’re right. I’m glad I took my break early. I’d rather be here for Jennifer. Even though Burt always reminds me that we can’t protect her.”
“Jen wouldn’t let us anyway.”
“Did he say who else he’s interviewed?”
Lisa shook her head. “Not a word. But he did get to talk to Greta before she left for class. So that’s one more down.” Lisa knitted another row of rosy pink stitches.
The sound of tires crunching gravel drew Kelly’s attention, and she glanced through the window in time to see a black car driving into Lambspun’s parking lot. She didn’t get a good look at the driver, but instinct told her it was Peterson.
“A man driving a black car passed by. I’m betting it’s Peterson,” she said and dropped her crocheting onto the table.
Lisa looked up, concern already on her face. “I bet you’re right. Let’s head over to the café.”
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