Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery)

by Sefton, Maggie

  “That’s coming along nicely, Kelly,” Mimi said as she drafted some fleece into her lap.

  “Thanks, Mimi. I have only been able to knit in short spurts because of my schedule. If only there was a way to knit and be on the computer at the same time, then I’d be set.” Kelly laughed.

  “I have no doubt someone will invent it soon,” Mimi predicted. “In fact—”

  Her next comment was cut off when a Megan hurricane blew right into the knitting room. Kelly looked up in surprise. She hadn’t seen one of those windstorms in months. Megan had nailed down all the details of her wedding by last June. Peace and calm had reigned . . . until now.

  Megan stared at them, wide-eyed, looking like the frazzled, harried wedding-prep Megan of months ago. “I can’t believe this!” She shook a white plastic bag at them. “Eighteen days before the wedding, and she’s pregnant!”

  Kelly blinked. Mimi’s mouth dropped open. Drafted fleece and knitting dropped to laps.

  “Who’s pregnant?”

  “My sister, Janet!” Megan snapped.

  “Oh, my . . .”

  “How could she do that so close to the wedding?” Megan shook the plastic bag again, clearly indignant. “Now she can’t fit into the dress!”

  “Ahhhh . . .” Kelly and Mimi chorused together.

  Megan dropped the plastic bag onto the knitting table and sank into a chair between Mimi and Kelly. Despair. Kelly swore she could see a black cloud forming over Megan’s head.

  Mimi reached over and gave Megan one of her motherly pats. “Don’t worry, Megan. There’s enough time to make alterations. I’m sure of it. I take it your sister has already tried on the dress, and . . . and . . .”

  “And it doesn’t fit!” Megan complained. “She called me early this morning.” Black cloud dropping lower, almost to Megan’s forehead. Gloom.

  Kelly had to wipe away the smile that wanted to appear at Megan’s melodramatic mood. She sensed Megan was completely unprepared for this sudden wrench that was thrown into her well-oiled Megan and Marty Wedding Machine. Everything had been clicking along nicely. Caterers, on schedule. Wedding cake, scheduled. Servers, scheduled. Everything was proceeding according to plan. Megan’s Master Plan. And now this. There was no room in the Master Plan for last-minute matron of honor screwups.

  “She says she’ll need a couple of inches more in the waistline!” Megan exclaimed, voice moving up the register. “I’ve checked the seams and there’s not enough material there for two inches! Arrrrgh!” Megan threw both hands up to the heavens. Perhaps divine intervention would help. Heavenly seamstresses? Megan sank her head onto her arms on the table. “I can’t believe this. Only eighteen days, and Janet does this. How could she?”

  Kelly sent Mimi a quick grin over Megan’s head. “I doubt your sister planned it, Megan.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Megan bemoaned. “How will I find someone to fix this dress in such a short time? Zoe is dead. I don’t know anyone else to call.” Deeper gloom.

  “I know someone who might be able to do it,” Mimi said as she rose. “Let me give her a call.”

  “Are you thinking of Leann?” Kelly asked as Mimi walked into the central yarn room.

  “Yes, I am. She’s wonderful with alterations.”

  Megan’s head popped up. “Tell her I’ll pay double!” she called after Mimi.

  “There, now. You see? There’s a solution,” Kelly reassured her friend. Crisis seemingly averted, Kelly returned to her shawl. Thankfully, she was coming into the home stretch. At least, she thought she was. Several long rows with the stitches increasing row by row remained. Then she would began the even rows of border stitches which would provide the edge of the shawl. Long rows took a long time to knit.

  “Hopefully,” Megan said, leaning back into the chair. “Oh, please, please, have this seamstress be able to make the alterations. Please!”

  “Are you praying to the Wedding Gods or Heavenly Seamstresses?” Kelly teased.

  “Both. Whatever works.”

  Kelly couldn’t resist. “I swear, I haven’t seen a Megan Black Cloud of Wedding Despair in several months. You had everything nailed down.”

  A smile escaped. “You bet I did. After all that effort and searching, I nailed down everything! And I’ve been checking with them every week this last month, just to make sure they’re ready.”

  Kelly grinned as she continued her stitches. Slip, wrap, slide. Slip, wrap, slide. The regular movements of creating each stitch and moving it from the left needle to the right. It was rhythmic and natural by now.

  “Woe to any vendor who is unprepared. The Wrath of Megan will descend upon him or her,” Kelly intoned in a theatrical voice, hoping to elicit a genuine laugh from Megan.

  It worked. Megan laughed. “Okay, okay, I can be a little intense at times—”

  “A little!”

  “Okay, a lot. But you don’t have any room to talk, Kelly.”

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. When you’re out sleuthing around, you are just as intense.”

  “Oh, puh-leeeez . . .”

  “Good news,” Mimi announced as she bustled into the main room. “I just spoke with Leann O’Hara and explained your situation, and she said she would be glad to help you out, Megan. She has a shop here in Fort Connor, too.”

  Megan stared at Mimi for a second. “Really? I can’t believe it. Is she as good a seamstress as Zoe? I mean . . . do you think she’ll do a good job?”

  Mimi smiled benevolently and patted Megan on the arm. “Oh, yes. In fact, Zoe was sewing in Leann’s shop before she started her own business. Leann is more than qualified to handle your sister’s alterations.”

  Megan closed her eyes, obvious relief flooding her face. “Oh, thank you, thank you, Mimi,” she said. “You’re a lifesaver.”

  “Nonsense, dear. I’m just glad I could help,” Mimi said with a smile as she settled in her chair and returned to the drafted fleece.

  “Mother Mimi strikes again,” Kelly teased and joined her friends’ laughter as it bounced around the table.

  Seven

  Kelly clicked her car door open and slipped inside. Her meeting with client Arthur Housemann had gone longer than she’d planned. She’d noticed that Housemann always found time to find out what was happening in her life—after all the business was done, of course. So they’d spent a pleasant half hour over coffee talking about how her business was going.

  Kelly often thought Arthur Housemann was a lot like her. Focused and targeted. She was sure that was one of the things he appreciated about her work as his financial accountant and CPA. That, and the fact she had played a large part in preventing tragic legal consequences from entangling him and his family a few months ago. Kelly was pleased her sleuthing into the murder of a local real estate investor had uncovered the real perpetrator.

  Housemann never forgot that. Kelly sensed he thought of her almost like a daughter. That always brought a smile. She’d already acquired two fatherly mentors since she’d returned to her childhood home in Fort Connor almost four years ago: Burt Parker and Curt Stackhouse. She could always use a third one. Having lost her own dear father to lung cancer years ago, Kelly appreciated the auxiliary fathers in her life.

  She nosed her sporty red car out of the office complex parking lot and into traffic on Fort Connor’s busy eastern commercial route. Her cell phone jangled from her briefcase. Kelly slowed her car and moved into the right lane as she retrieved the phone. Burt’s name and number flashed on the screen.

  “Hey, Burt, how are you?” she asked, coming to a stop at an intersection.

  “I’m fine, Kelly. Out doing errands, as usual,” Burt’s familiar voice came over the line. “Mimi said you have to work in Denver on Saturday.”

  “Oh, yes. Warner has a special meeting scheduled on a new project. He’s bringing in some consultants, so top staff has to gather.”

  Burt chuckled. “Sounds like a long day. I’m glad he pays you well. Listen, are you dropping by t
he shop today?”

  “I plan to later this afternoon. First, I have to work on client accounts, then I’ll earn a knitting break.”

  “That works. Listen, I called to update you on what I’ve heard from Dan on the investigation into Zoe’s murder.”

  Kelly maneuvered the car around a corner onto a less busy street. She wanted to concentrate on what Burt was saying without being distracted. “Thanks, Burt. I’m sure the medical examiner didn’t find anything out of the ordinary, right?”

  “Correct. Zoe died as a result of a gunshot wound to the head. One shot was fired, Dan said. And it was at close range, which indicates the killer was probably sitting next to Zoe in the car.”

  Kelly thought about that. “Why on earth would Zoe Yeager allow Oscar to get into her car when she was so afraid of him? Do you think he forced his way into her car?”

  “I have no idea, Kelly. But Dan said he went to the bar Oscar frequents. The Stop On Inn. It’s east of town on the truck route near the interstate. The bartenders there know Oscar well. He’s a regular and comes just about every night. The bartender said Oscar was definitely there the night Zoe was killed. He remembers because Oscar was ‘mad as hell,’ according to the bartender. And he was drinking more than usual and kept cursing his wife over and over.”

  Kelly could almost picture the ugly scene. “Wow, that sounds like what I imagined.”

  “The bartender said he thinks Oscar left around nine o’clock or so but wasn’t sure. Zoe’s class was over at nine fifteen, so there was plenty of time to get to that church, which is on the east side of town.”

  “I’d say that should put Oscar right in Dan’s bull’s-eye. Don’t you think so?”

  “Well, he’s certainly looking guilty. He has no alibi for his whereabouts after he left the bar. He told Dan he went straight home and fell asleep, but he can’t prove it.”

  “I told you I thought he was the killer,” Kelly said, slowing for a stop sign.

  “I know you did, Kelly, but Dan is still questioning people. There were a couple of guys at the bar that remembered Oscar, and they confirmed he looked ‘pretty damn mad,’ as one guy put it. But remember, Dan is still questioning people. We don’t know what he’ll find out.”

  Kelly heard a tone in Burt’s voice she recognized. His skeptical tone. That got her attention. “Did Dan let on that he’d learned something new? I hear that skeptical tone in your voice.”

  Burt chuckled again. “Boy, I can’t hide anything from you anymore, Kelly. You’re right. Dan did say that the department was questioning all the women in Zoe’s evening class at the church. Maybe those women saw something suspicious. Who knows? Dan isn’t saying yet, which means he’s still asking questions.”

  Kelly thought about that as she edged her car back onto a larger thoroughfare, heading toward her cottage. “That makes me curious, too. I wonder what those women had to say. It’s a safe bet they didn’t see Oscar waiting for Zoe outside. They never would have left Zoe alone with him.”

  “I agree with you, Kelly. But I sense those women in class saw something, and it was enough to arouse Dan’s interest. Listen, I’m pulling into the shopping center parking lot. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “Thanks, Burt,” Kelly said as she clicked off and dropped the phone back into her briefcase.

  Turning the corner near Lambspun, Kelly next turned into the driveway between the shop and her cottage. Meanwhile, she wondered what those women could possibly have seen that would arouse Dan’s interest.

  It certainly wouldn’t be Oscar. Even Oscar wasn’t stupid enough to hang around Zoe’s car with a gun in his jacket. Maybe Oscar was hiding near a bush or behind some trees. Were there any bushes or trees at that parking lot? She ought to drive over there and take a look for herself. Maybe one of them did spot Oscar hiding behind a corner or something.

  That idea didn’t make sense to Kelly. Then another thought came out of the back of her mind, darting around until it sat right in front of her eyes where she couldn’t miss it. Something someone had said.

  Leann. Leann O’Hara. The pretty seamstress who was about to rescue Megan’s sister’s dress. Kelly remembered sitting in the shop when Leann came storming in with a photo of the dress she claimed Zoe stole. Leann was furious. And the last thing that Leann said before she left the shop was she was going to confront Zoe Yeager at her class that night. Leann wanted to warn the students not to trust Zoe.

  Kelly pulled her car to a stop in front of her cottage, while a cold sensation rippled through her.

  * * *

  “Hey, Kelly, I’m glad I caught you,” Megan said as Kelly stepped into Lambspun’s foyer later that afternoon.

  “Are you coming or going?” Kelly asked as they both moved away from the front door. Two women were walking into the shop right behind them.

  “Going. I came in a while ago to give Leann my sister’s dress, so she can start the alterations. She promised it would only take a few days.” Megan placed her hand on her chest and closed her eyes. “Thank goodness. I was so worried there wouldn’t be enough time, but Leann assured me there was.”

  “I’ll bet that was a load off your mind.” Kelly smiled at her friend. In her jeans and tee shirt, Megan looked considerably more relaxed now than she did two days ago. “You’re lucky that Leann was able to schedule those alterations right now.”

  “Don’t I know it. Leann was so nice and reassuring on the phone when I first spoke to her. Mimi must have told her I was upset because Leann kept telling me not to worry. She promised that she’d be able to make those alterations on time. She couldn’t start until today, though, because she had another customer’s suit to finish.”

  “Boy, if she’s doing suits, then she’s certainly qualified to handle your sister’s expanding seams problem.” Kelly couldn’t keep her grin away, remembering Megan shaking the plastic bag while complaining about her sister’s predicament.

  Megan smiled. “Now I feel bad I carried on so, but I simply lost it. I’d worked so hard to make sure everything was scheduled. I didn’t want any loose ends to cause problems at the last minute.” She shook her head. “And then my sister called. Thank goodness I didn’t yell at her on the phone. I could tell she felt awful.”

  “Megan, we all watched you knock yourself out tying down everything wedding related you could think of. If something had to happen, at least it was easily solved. Thanks to Leann.” Kelly paused for a second. “You know, I don’t really know Leann. I only saw her briefly when she came to talk to Mimi about something. What’s she like?”

  “Oh, she’s really nice and easy to talk to. And Mimi was right when she said she’s had a lot of experience. That made me feel a whole lot better. She’s in the main room right now, working on my sister’s dress.” Megan checked her watch and moved toward the door. “I’ve gotta run. Don’t forget we’ve got a game this evening at Rolland Moore fields.”

  “It’s on my daytimer. We’ve only got a couple left,” Kelly said, then headed to the main room. Leann O’Hara was sitting at the knitting table, a fire engine red garment spread on her lap.

  “Hello, Leann, Megan said you were here,” Kelly greeted her as she dropped her knitting bag on the table and settled into a chair.

  Leann looked up from the red dress and stared at Kelly for a second, then smiled in recognition. “Hi, there, Kelly. It’s Kelly, isn’t it? I’m not good with names.”

  “Kelly, it is,” she said, removing the nearly finished wool and mohair shawl from her bag. “I take it that’s Megan’s sister’s dress. I was here with Mimi the other day when Megan came in and told us what happened.” Kelly couldn’t keep from smiling. “Thank goodness you rode to the rescue. Megan was losing it.”

  Leann laughed lightly. “Well, I understand how nervous brides are about their big day. Everything has to be simply perfect. But it’s inevitable that something goes awry. Some glitch. Luckily, this glitch is easily solved.”

  Kelly checked the shawl gathered in a soft bunch in he
r lap. Everything looked okay. Her stitches would never be as perfect as Jennifer’s or Lisa’s or Megan’s, but they looked all right to her. Good enough, she thought, and picked up her knitting where she’d left off. After a few stitches she glanced up to see exactly what Leann was doing.

  Watching Leann’s smooth, spare movements for a few seconds, Kelly asked, “What are you doing exactly, Leann? It doesn’t look like you’re sewing.”

  “No sewing yet, Kelly. I’m ripping out the seams of the dress, so I can actually begin alterations.”

  “What’s that you’re using? A little knife?”

  Leann looked up with a smile and held the little gadget for Kelly to see. “It’s a seam ripper. And it’s a seamstress’s best friend. It makes shorter work of alterations.”

  Kelly scrutinized the slender piece of metal. Fatter than a pencil with a curved hook at the end. “That looks like a little fishhook.”

  Leann laughed. “I’m afraid a fishhook would rip out more than the seams, it would probably rip my fingers, too. This metal isn’t that sharp, but sharp enough to slice through the thread of each stitch as I move it along. Watch.”

  Leann inserted the seam ripper into the seam she was working on and started moving it deftly. Each stitch gave way quickly as her hand moved along.

  “Wow, I see what you mean,” Kelly said, watching her. “Without that little ripper, I can’t imagine how long it would take to remove those little stitches.”

  “Believe me, I don’t even want to think about it. Dresses and suits would take forever to finish.” She kept moving the seam ripper until she reached the end of the side seam.

  “Is that the side of the dress I’m looking at?” Kelly asked, peering at the red fabric.

  “Yes, it is.” Leann held up the dress. “See, here’s the bust. I’ll be letting out both side seams and adding the extra material there. Megan’s sister Janet and I talked this morning as she took her measurements. That way I’ll know exactly how much fabric I need to add. I’m hoping there will be enough left over. I won’t know until I can get the extra fabric from Vera. She’s working until late tonight, so it’ll be tomorrow before she can check the leftover fabric back at . . . at Zoe’s workshop.” Leann’s voice grew softer.