Kelly scowled over her mug. “Boy, a person has no privacy around you.” She pushed the incriminating daytimer farther into her bag.
“So, what’s the deal?” Jennifer continued. “Why are you still acting so skittish with a great guy like Steve who really, really, really likes you? He’s good-looking, athletic, smart, runs his own business—”
“You can stop selling, Miss Real Estate Agent,” Kelly admonished, holding up her hand. “You don’t have to sell me on Steve. Hey, I’m dating him. I know he’s a great guy. I like him a lot.”
“So why don’t you kiss him more?” Jennifer pressed, brown eyes dancing. “I mean, that’s what you do with a guy you like. I thought you had a boyfriend before, didn’t you?”
The blush that had been creeping slowly now raced up Kelly’s cheeks. “Hey, that’s my business and Steve’s. Not yours,” she protested, hand jerking out in aggravation. “And—and how do you know we’re not making out passionately already?”
“Believe me, I’d know. I have spies everywhere,” Jennifer said archly, tossing her auburn hair. “Besides, lights would flash all over Fort Connor. Everyone would know.”
Kelly exhaled an exasperated sigh. “Only Carl knows the truth.”
“I’ve got Carl bribed. There’s a bag of doggy bones in my trunk.”
Kelly gave up and laughed, as did Megan. It was impossible to stay annoyed with Jennifer.
“Hey, Jennifer, how are you coming with that alpaca scarf you promised the Denver gallery guy?” Megan asked, clearly trying to change the subject.
“Oh, it’s done and already in the mail,” Jennifer replied, checking her customers. “And it’s for his friend Ronnie, the psychic hairdresser. Kelly’s making Eugene’s scarf. Hey, gotta go, catch you later.” And she was off, coffeepot in hand, heading toward another table.
Kelly took another deep drink, relaxing once more. She’d dodged the bullet. But not for long, she sensed. Jennifer was relentless.
“So, how far along are you? With the alpaca scarf, I mean.” Megan asked. “Think you’ll be done before Christmas?”
“I hope so. I did a little yesterday, but the soft shawl keeps tempting me, plus I’ve been eyeing more frothy stuff.”
“You’ve gotta stay away from the frothy stuff until after the holidays, Kelly.”
“I know, I know. No froufrou until spring. No froufrou until spring,” Kelly chanted.
“Seriously, how much have you knitted?”
“About twelve inches, that’s all.”
Megan grinned. “Well, it’s December first. You’ve got over three weeks until Christmas. Knit faster.”
“Easy for you to say. That scarf is going slowly on those smaller needles. It’ll take forever to make four feet,” she grumbled.
“That’s because you’ve gotten used to those larger needles, that’s all. You’ve forgotten what it’s like to knit with the smaller ones. Remember when you first started out?”
“Oh, yeah.” Kelly nodded. “And I remember all the mistakes I made, too.”
“You’re doing fine, Kelly. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mimi said as she approached their table, doughnut box in hand. “What you need is one of these delectable things to restore your confidence.”
“Hey, thanks, Mimi. You read my mind.” Megan eagerly snatched a chocolate-coated confection.
Kelly peered into the box at the tempting pastries. She could smell the sugar. Coated, glazed, frosted, jam-filled. “Boy, I sure don’t need this,” she admitted as she lifted a brown sugar and cinnamon doughnut and took a bite.
“Go on. ’Tis the season of indulgence. And overindulgence,” Mimi tempted.
Kelly chased the sugary bite with some coffee. What was it about coffee and doughnuts that went so well together? What fiend thought that up? A pastry chef, probably. “You’re bright and cheerful,” she said, observing Mimi’s rosy cheeks. “All those holiday shoppers are ringing the registers, I’ll bet.”
“Isn’t it wonderful? It seems like more and more people find us every year. More people are knitting, too,” Mimi said as she continued into the café. “Jennifer, I’ll bet I could interest you in one of these. Burt brought them in.”
“Well, bless Burt’s heart,” Jennifer said, scanning the box’s contents.
“Do I smell sugar?” Steve Townsend’s voice sounded across the room. He appeared around the café’s corner.
“Oh, please, Steve. Take two. They’re small. Plus, there will be less for me to eat,” Mimi said with a laugh.
Steve dutifully complied, making his selection as Jennifer refilled his coffee mug. “Oh, yeah. I definitely came in at the right time.”
“What brings you here? I thought you were heading to Windsor today,” Kelly asked as Steve approached, coffee in one hand, rapidly disappearing doughnuts in the other.
“I was on the way,” Steve said after he swallowed. “But I thought I’d better drop by and remind you about tonight. Jazz Bistro at seven, right?”
“Got it on the daytimer,” Kelly said with a nod, swirling her coffee, aware that Jennifer was grinning at her from beside the counter. Mimi had a funny grin on her face, too, as a matter of fact. “You didn’t need to come out of your way for that.”
“I didn’t. I came for the sugar.” With that, Steve leaned over and kissed her, then returned to the doughnuts and coffee.
It happened so quickly, Kelly didn’t have time to react, so she sat there, looking surprised, and feeling a blush creeping up. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know. The sugar made me do it,” Steve said, grinning. “See you tonight.” He gave her a wink then headed for the door.
“Steve, wait,” Megan called out. “I need your help.”
“Sure, what’s up?” he said as he paused, polishing off the last doughnut.
“You play tennis, don’t you? I need some volunteers for a charity tournament at my tennis club. Can you sign up, pretty please? All proceeds go to buy toys for kids at the homeless shelter.”
“Well, I haven’t played for ages, but that’s such a good cause I can’t say no,” Steve said, then drained his coffee.
“Heck, count me in, too,” Kelly volunteered. “I haven’t played since college, so I’ll be more liability than asset, I’m sure.”
“I was about to ask you next. This is great, you two. Thanks so much. You can sign up for doubles. I’ll bring you the paperwork.” Pushing back her chair, Megan grabbed her bag. “And speaking of work, I’ve gotta get back and see if I can earn enough this month to pay my yarn bill.”
“Don’t remind me. Client accounts are waiting for me across the driveway.” Kelly pointed to her cottage.
“See you tonight,” Steve said with a wave as he left. “And think of a time when we can practice.”
“Practice what?” Kelly called after him but no answer floated back.
“I think he means tennis, but I could make some other suggestions,” Jennifer said as she filched another doughnut from Mimi’s open box.
Kelly gave Jennifer a playful frown before she headed to her cottage.
Two
Kelly slid the glass patio door open, ushering her pet Rottweiler outside. “Here, you go, Carl. Breakfast time.” She placed his nibbles-filled plastic doggie dish on the backyard patio and hastily withdrew from the icy morning chill. Carl danced about until the dish hit the concrete, hunger obviously overcoming the cold.
Brrr, she shivered. She’d need a warmer running jacket. Temperatures had dropped below freezing last night, she could tell. Frost lined her windshield. Heading for her bedroom Kelly rummaged in her closet for another jacket, then grabbed her knit hat and gloves.
She really should learn to knit one of these hats, she chided herself, admiring the neat rows of blue and green stitches. Megan was sweet to do this for her, but she couldn’t keep depending on her friends’ knitting “charity.” She had to learn how to knit a hat. Maybe a class would help.
A loud thump, thump sounded at the fr
ont door. Who would be visiting this early? she wondered, yanking the door open.
“Hey, there.” Steve greeted her as he leaned against the doorway, familiar grin in place. He held a cup of coffee in one hand and tennis rackets in the other. “I bet you forgot we were going to practice this morning.”
She had but wasn’t about to admit it, choosing distraction instead. “Not at all,” she fibbed as she grabbed the coffee and took a deep drink. Ahhhh. Now she could hold up her end of the conversation. “I was coming outside to warm up now.”
“Liar,” Steve teased, retrieving the cup to take a drink while Kelly closed the door behind her.
“Good, you brought rackets. Mine are buried in a storage locker in Virginia,” she said as she pulled the knit hat down to her ears. Feeling the cold ripple up her spine, Kelly rubbed her arms as they headed down the steps and around the cottage side yard. “Where’re those courts, again?”
“On the other side of the golf course,” Steve said, pointing across the frost-encrusted greens. “C’mon. We’ll be warmed up by the time we get there.” With that, he took off in a loping run. “Hey, Carl,” he called as he passed the backyard fence. Carl immediately raced to the fence, barking at his favorite playmate.
“Another time, Carl,” Kelly said to her dog as she stretched. “Steve will roll around in the grass with you next spring.”
Kelly took a few more seconds to stretch then took off after Steve. She knew she could catch up with him easily. She was a sprinter. Steve was not. The golf course greens scrunched beneath her running shoes, icy coating giving way, as she lengthened her stride. A thin slice of December sunlight lightened the sky, reflecting on the greens ahead. Soon, that feeble light would be swallowed as December crept toward the winter solstice.
No golfers in sight. She wasn’t surprised. Today was winter’s announcement that the Indian summer temperatures and balmy weather they’d enjoyed through November were officially over. The cold had come. The ridge of mountains that rose in the distance, the foothills, were already sprinkled with snow. The Rockies that loomed behind had been glistening since September. The high country always got snow early. Yards of it, in fact.
Pulling up beside Steve, she matched her stride to his as they jogged across the empty course. “Lisa and Greg want us to go skiing with them this winter,” Kelly said, watching her words form into frosty clouds on the cold air.
“Sounds good. Let’s wait until after the holidays, though. My schedule is filling up. Getting crazy.”
“Can you delay breaking ground on that new site in south Fort Connor? That would buy you some time.”
“That’s not the problem,” Steve said, pointing toward the left side of the golf course then angling toward the fenced tennis courts in the distance. “Something new has come up. Something I’ve always wanted to do. I’ll worry about finding time later.”
“You’re running with the Queen of Not Enough Time,” Kelly joked. “I can help with that. Tell me, what’s up?”
“You know that warehouse in Old Town I showed you last summer? The one close to the new lofts on the corner?”
“You mean the one you’ve been dreaming about? The one with all the potential? I remember what you said you could do with it.”
“The same one. It’s up for sale. I heard about it yesterday morning, so I went to talk to the firm handling the sale.”
“Are you going to buy it?”
“I already have.” Steve grinned at her as they rounded the golf clubhouse.
“Way to go, Steve!” Kelly congratulated, genuinely pleased he’d reached for his dream rather than let it pass him by. “That’s fantastic. Now I know why you’re feeling schedule pressure.”
“Yeah, well, I’ll worry about it later. Right now, I’ve gotta get that Wellesley site finished. Then, why don’t you give me a scheduling lesson over martinis and jazz?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Kelly agreed as they both slowed their pace until they reached the chain-link fence.
Steve flipped open the gate and motioned Kelly onto the courts. “We can talk while we hit. I’ve gotta get over to the site. We’re finishing the model homes this week. People will be stampeding over the dirt by the weekend.”
“Great, I’ll warn Jennifer,” Kelly said, unzipping the racket cover. Swinging the racket around, in front, in back, and over her head, Kelly moved her arm through long-forgotten motions. Similar to softball, but different enough to require careful attention. Tennis was a game of finesse, she remembered, not unrestrained power.
“Take it easy now,” she warned Steve across the net as he bounced a ball beside him. “No points for blasting it out of the park.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steve yelled as he hit the ball across the net.
As if guided by long distant memory, Kelly felt her body move toward the ball. Not smoothly, like she remembered from yesteryear, but good enough to get to the ball in time. Her arm moved backward automatically as she ran, and she returned the ball with a solid hit. It sailed across the net.
Congratulating herself for hitting a good return, Kelly suddenly saw the ball coming back at her. That was the thing about tennis. It was so quick. No time to admire a great hit to the outfield as you rounded the bases.
Not in tennis. The ball was back in your face as soon as you returned to the center line, and you’d better be ready. Watching the ball land on her backhand side, Kelly attempted an unfamiliar shot and hit the ball weakly. It landed squarely in the middle of the net.
“Got another. Comin’ atcha,” Steve called out, as Kelly watched him hit another. This was going to take a lot of practice, she thought with an inward groan. And that would only get her to mediocre. Good was out of the question right now.
“I’ll be over in a few minutes,” Jennifer called to Kelly from the café.
Kelly lifted her newly refilled mug in reply as she headed down the hallway that led to the knitting shop. After totally reorganizing two alpaca ranchers’ accounts and updating expenses, she’d earned a midday break herself. Kelly stretched her neck from side to side, loosening muscles long tensed from hours over the computer. She was going to have to invest in some new accounting software. These small accounts were taking far too much time to enter all the expenses and revenues for each client’s business.
She dumped her knitting bag on the library table and indulged in a long stretch, after first waving hello to her friend Lisa, who was sitting on the other side.
“Hey, there,” Lisa said, glancing up from the red and white mittens she was knitting. “I’ve missed you the last couple of times I came. Of course, my schedule has kind of heated up lately, so knitting time is harder to come by.”
“I know how that is,” Kelly replied as she settled into a chair and pulled the soft gray and white alpaca wool scarf from her bag. “But I figured I’d better get back to this if I’m going to have a prayer of finishing it in time for Christmas.”
Lisa grinned, brushing her long blonde hair behind one ear. “Is that the scarf for the gallery guy?”
Kelly laughed. “The gallery guy has a name. He’s Eugene Tolliver, and he was a huge help when I was poking around in Denver in the fall. You know, after Allison Dubois’s death.”
“You mean ‘sleuthing,’ don’t you? I remember you and Jennifer going down there, and she came back with a whole new look.”
“That was compliments of Ronnie, the psychic hairdresser,” Kelly said with a sly grin. “Jennifer’s knitting his scarf. Of course, she’s already finished with it. I’m the slow one.”
“Knit faster.”
“I’m trying. Plus, I’ve forsworn froufrou until spring. That’ll help.”
Lisa chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Froufrou attacks. I know them well.”
“Who are the mittens for?” Kelly asked. “They don’t look big enough for Greg.”
“They’re for my six-year-old niece, Stephanie. After I finish these, I’ve got three more pairs to knit for younger cousins.”
“Is th
is the Year of the Mitten on the Knitting Calendar?” Kelly teased.
Lisa didn’t answer, because Mimi bustled into the room then, a skein of red and white yarn in one hand and an ever-present notebook in the other. She stopped abruptly when she spotted Kelly and Lisa. “Well, hello, Lisa,” she sang out brightly. “I haven’t seen you for a week. I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you guys, too. My schedule is really getting crazy,” Lisa said, glancing up as her fingers worked the wool. Red and white yarn smoothly formed on the three skinny needles that created the round mitten-shape.
Kelly marveled at how Lisa could talk and barely pay attention while knitting something that complicated. Her friends scoffed at the idea of a mitten being hard to knit. But Kelly didn’t buy it. Three skinny double-point needles and working in a tiny space. Just think of all the mistakes she could make. She shuddered at the thought.
“Haven’t you missed me?” Kelly teased in a forlorn tone.
Mimi laughed her little musical laugh that trilled up the scale. “Of course I do, Kelly. I depend on seeing your smiling face every day. You’re part of the shop family.” She reached over and gave Kelly’s shoulder a squeeze.
“Speaking of smiling faces, you certainly look all rosy-cheeked and happy,” Lisa observed.
“Oh, that’s because of the cash registers ringing,” Kelly joked. “And Burt’s also to blame.”
Suddenly, Mimi’s smile vanished and her eyes popped wide. “Wh-what? What do you mean?”
“The doughnuts, of course.” Kelly laughed. “Burt’s been bringing doughnuts to start the morning. That makes everyone happy. And fat. I have got to find some willpower somewhere.” She shook her head as she went back to her scarf and found where she’d left off.
“Burt’s a real sweetie,” Lisa said with an enigmatic smile as she focused on the mitten once again. “By the way, Mimi, if you need some help for the shop’s Christmas party, count me in. I make a mean rum cake.”
Mimi’s smile returned. “Oh, thank you, Lisa. We could really use it. Every year we keep growing. Our parties are getting bigger, too.”
A Killer Stitch Page 2
