Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery)

by Sefton, Maggie

  “That’s extremely hard for most people.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “You should give Steve a call. He might be able to drop by Greg and Lisa’s,” Kelly suggested as she fired up her laptop and watched the icons pop into place on the screen.

  Jennifer glanced at Kelly with a smile. “Were you two able to reschedule your dinner?”

  “Yep. I’ll be in Denver all day Saturday, so we can meet for dinner that evening. There’s a new restaurant Steve wants me to try.” She clicked on her worksheet files, and the screen filled with columns of figures.

  “I heard about Megan’s meltdown the other day.” Jennifer grinned. “I’m sorry I missed it. I’d already left for the real estate office. The nerve of her sister, getting pregnant without consulting Megan.”

  Both Kelly and Jennifer laughed out loud. Megan’s meltdowns were few, but they were always memorable.

  “Well, well, this sounds jovial. I see that I’ve returned at the right time,” a familiar voice sounded from the archway leading to the central yarn room and the rest of the shop.

  Kelly jerked around in her chair the moment she heard that distinctive voice. Hilda. Hilda von Steuben. A Lambspun regular and one of the two best knitters at Lambspun. The other being Hilda’s sister Lizzie. There Hilda stood, as tall and imposing as always with her silver hair swept up into a bun. Kelly did notice Hilda was using a cane now. Mimi had told them Hilda was suffering from acute arthritis pain in her knees, which had kept her from coming to the shop the last few months.

  “Hilda!” Kelly cried out in delight as she sprang from her chair. “How wonderful to see you!” She embraced the older woman in a big hug.

  “Oh, Hilda, I’ve missed seeing you,” Jennifer said, hugging Hilda when Kelly let go. “We’ve all missed you. It’s so good to see you in the shop.”

  “Goodness, girls, you must let me catch my breath,” Hilda said as she steadied herself. “I have missed all of you more than I can say.”

  “How are your knees?” Kelly asked, noticing that Hilda looked a little frailer than before. Even her face was thinner. Hilda’s cheeks were rosy, though, just like her sister Lizzie’s. Both ladies were devotees of blush, or “rouge” as Hilda called it.

  “My knees are better, dear,” Hilda said, slowly making her way toward the table. Jennifer quickly pulled out a chair and offered it. Hilda grasped Jennifer’s outstretched hand and lowered herself into the chair. “Ahhhh, there we go. Thank you, Jennifer. It seems I need a lot more help nowadays.”

  “Don’t you worry, Hilda,” Jennifer said, patting her on the shoulder. “We’re glad to help. It’s so good to see you again.”

  Kelly and Jennifer both settled on either side of Hilda. “Lizzie told us how much trouble the arthritis was giving you. Was the doctor able to give you a shot or something that would help?”

  Hilda gave a dismissive wave of the hand. “Bah! Those shots only last for a month, and they can’t give them that often. My regular doctor discovered a new prescription cream especially for arthritic knees, and it’s worked wonders! I’ve been amazed at the difference it makes. I’ve been using it for a month now, and every week I found that I could move a little more.” She raised one hand. “I am so thankful that our scientists are discovering new medicines like this one. It’s given me my life again. Or at least this small part of it.” She gave them both a warm smile.

  “That’s fantastic news, Hilda. Now maybe you’ll be able to come here regularly,” Kelly said. “I’ve missed your acerbic wit around the table.”

  Hilda’s papery thin cheeks spread with a wide smile. “My, my, it sounds like the quality of the conversation has deteriorated around here since I’ve been gone.”

  “Oh, it has, Hilda,” Jennifer said as she stuffed the maroon sweater back into her bag. “I have to return to the café, but I’ll stop by again before I leave for the real estate office. Meanwhile, can I get you a cup of tea?”

  “That would be lovely, dear. Thank you.”

  “And give me your mug, Kelly. I noticed it was dangling empty. I’ll fill it up for you.”

  “You are a lifesaver, Jen. Thanks.” Kelly handed her the mug.

  Kelly leaned against the table, forgetting about her open laptop and the waiting spreadsheets. “Did Lizzie bring you this morning? I imagine driving would be too difficult now.”

  “You imagine correctly, my dear,” Hilda said, placing a smaller than usual knitting bag on the table. “I’m afraid my driving days are over. Yes, Lizzie brought me over. She planned to visit Eustace at the Detention Center down the way.”

  Hilda withdrew a delicate bundle of lavender froth. Maybe a baby blanket? Spinster sisters, Hilda and Lizzie von Steuben were both retired career secondary school teachers. They did, however, have a large extended family and scores of grandnieces and grandnephews, ranging in age from infancy to teenagers. Consequently they were always knitting something.

  The mention of Lizzie and her late-in-life true love, Eustace Freemont, brought a sad memory. An unscrupulous real estate investor had cheated Eustace’s mother out of cherished family property last year. Consequently, mild-mannered historical researcher Eustace had exercised what he called “frontier justice.” Unfortunately, the legal system took a dim view of Eustace’s actions. Hence, Lizzie’s frequent visits to the County Detention Center.

  “How is Lizzie doing?” Kelly asked, picturing the round rosy-cheeked little knitter. “And Eustace. How is he holding up?”

  Hilda’s fingers worked the yarn. “Lizzie is fine, and Eustace is doing quite well, considering. We’re all hoping that the Colorado Department of Corrections in Denver will consider Eustace’s age and his lifetime of scholarly work before they assign him to a penal facility. Perhaps he could work in a prison library or something.”

  “Well, that would certainly make more sense than putting an accomplished historical writer like Eustace into the general prison population.” Kelly glanced toward the central yarn room and the two women browsing the yarn bins there. “I’ll have to remember to ask Marty how that process is going.”

  “Well, never mind that,” Hilda said, glancing up at Kelly. “Right now, I’d much rather hear about you and your young man, Steve. I confess, Kelly, I was most unhappy to hear that you two had stopped seeing each other. Most distressing.” She shook her head, fingers moving quickly. Clearly, Hilda had no arthritis in her hands.

  Kelly kept her smile in check. “Well, you’ll be pleased to hear that Steve and I have been seeing each other occasionally in Denver these last few months. And Steve came up to join all of us for some baseball and softball games whenever he could last summer.”

  Hilda’s thin face flushed with her obvious pleasure. “Oh, my dear . . . I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear that. Excellent news, indeed. You two belong together, in my humble opinion,” she decreed with a trace of Hilda’s former authoritarian pronouncements.

  Kelly couldn’t help grinning. “Well, I’m glad you’re happy, Hilda. Just seeing you again makes me happy.” Kelly rose from her chair to give Hilda another hug.

  “Goodness me. Such effusive welcomes.” Hilda patted Kelly’s arm. “Thank you, Kelly. And I’ll be glad to share your good news with Lizzie.”

  “You do that, Hilda,” Kelly said as she spied Jennifer walking toward the main room with their tea and coffee.

  * * *

  Kelly leaned back into the comfy kitchen chair at Jayleen’s round maple table. “Man, am I stuffed. Excellent as always, Jayleen. We should crown you Chili Queen.”

  Jayleen hooted with laughter, tossing her graying blond curls over her shoulder as she took Kelly’s empty plate. “Ha! All those chili cooks down in Texas might take offense at that, Kelly. We don’t want a passel of angry Texans storming up here in the canyon.”

  “Hmmmm. I hadn’t thought about that,” Kelly teased her alpaca rancher friend.

  “Does that mean you’re too full to have a piece of blueberry pie?” Curt Stackhouse asked with
a twinkle in his eye.

  Kelly smiled at her mentor and advisor. Silver-haired, broad-shouldered, Curt was the image of a Colorado rancher, which was exactly how Curt had spent most of his life—raising cattle and sheep and buying land. However, Curt was also Kelly’s trusted advisor on mineral rights and royalties. Curt’s guidance was invaluable when natural gas was found on Kelly’s Wyoming property.

  “Don’t tell me Megan made you guys one of Ruthie’s blueberry pies? Boy, you two really rate.” She took a deep sip of Jayleen’s strong coffee.

  Curt leaned back into his chair. “It’s my daughter Becky’s pie. She’s been practicing Ruthie’s recipe for a while now, and I have to admit, she’s come pretty damn close. I can’t tell the difference.”

  “That settles it. I have to have some. Of course, I’ll need to run an extra mile tomorrow morning, you understand,” Kelly teased.

  “You’re perfect the way you are, Kelly-girl,” Jayleen said as she placed the tempting blueberry pie in the middle of the table. “This has been warming in the oven, so it should be just right. And there’s vanilla ice cream, too. You can start us off with the first piece, Kelly. Then Curt and I will dive in.”

  “Brother, make that two miles tomorrow,” Kelly said, watching blueberry syrup drip from the slice of pie Jayleen lifted onto her plate.

  Curt handed her a clean fork. “Here you go, Kelly. Dig in. You know, I was sorry to hear about that woman being killed last week. Jayleen told me she was sewing for Megan’s wedding. Hard to believe someone would walk up and shoot a woman like that.”

  Kelly sliced her fork into the blueberry delicacy, saw the flaky pastry give way, juice dribbling onto her plate. “I’ve asked Burt a few times if the police have any leads, but he says they’re still investigating. I’ve got my money on Zoe’s abusive husband, Oscar. Apparently he spent the night drinking and cursing Zoe, and he has no alibi after he left the bar.” She lifted a forkful of blueberries and pastry and savored them as they melted in her mouth. Blueberry heaven.

  “Whooooeee, that sounds pretty bad,” Jayleen decreed, shaking her head. Jayleen was celebrating fourteen years being sober after spending many years drinking in the Colorado Springs bars. Now Jayleen helped other troubled young women make better choices in their lives.

  “He sounds like one bad hombre,” Curt concurred.

  “Zoe had recently left Oscar and was filing for a divorce. He was furious. In fact, he followed Zoe, Lisa, and me back to Lambspun when Zoe moved her things out of the house.” Kelly frowned. “I got to see Oscar’s rage up close and personal when he got in my face at the front door.”

  Curt gave a wry smile. “You were blocking his path, I take it.”

  “Oh, yeah. Zoe was safe inside. He didn’t back down until he learned Lisa had called the cops, and they were on their way.”

  “That’ll work,” Jayleen said, shaking her head. “You know, that reinforces what one of my friends told me the other day. She’s taken a lot of Zoe’s sewing classes, and I recall her saying something about Zoe’s husband. I think he came into the class drunk one night.” Jayleen shook her head. “Liquor can really mess up your mind. Sounds like it messed up Oscar pretty good.”

  “Damn right.”

  Kelly dropped a big scoop of vanilla ice cream onto the pie, then stirred the melting ice cream into the blueberry pie syrup on her plate. “As I said, my money’s on Oscar. And I hope the cops don’t take long to put his butt away where he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  With that, Kelly lifted another delectable morsel to her mouth. Ohhhh, yes. Beyond delicious.

  * * *

  “Hey, come on in, buddy. Pizza’s on the coffee table,” Greg said, ushering Steve inside the house.

  “Hey, guys. How’re you doing?” Steve said as he slipped off his jacket and tossed it onto a nearby chair before settling into an empty spot around the coffee table.

  Relaxing with old friends. Steve could feel the tension leave his shoulders the moment he crossed the threshold. Man, he needed this. He’d been coming up more often to relax with the gang until the traveling started.

  Steve sank back into the chair. “Hey, the gang’s all here,” he said with a grin, glancing around at Megan and Marty, Jennifer and Pete, and Lisa and Greg. All of them were smiling at him, clearly glad to see him. “Sorry I haven’t been up for a while. That travel schedule is kicking my butt.” He reached for a slice of pizza and inhaled it. Way good, but it barely made a dent in his hunger pangs. Steve inhaled another slice. Ahhhh.

  “Here you go,” Greg said, offering Steve his favorite Colorado microbrew. “The rest of the pizza is yours. I think even Marty is full.”

  Steve laughed, then tipped back the golden ale and took a long drink. Oh, yeah. Good friends, good beer, good pizza. He reached for another slice.

  Marty, meanwhile, placed his hand on his stomach with a puzzled expression. “Wait a minute . . . is that a hunger pang? No, it’s okay. I’m full. For the moment.”

  Steve took another drink. “Did you feel that?” he joked. “I think the earth just moved.”

  Soft laughter floated around the little circle. Then Megan spoke up. “Not everyone is here. Kelly’s off with Jayleen and Curt I heard.” She gave a little frown.

  “Matchmaker Megan, at it again,” redheaded Marty teased his fiancée with a big smile.

  “Hey, I can’t help it. I want them back together.” Megan pouted.

  Jennifer settled back into the sofa, Pete’s arm around her shoulders. “Poor Megan. Things are not proceeding according to your schedule, are they?” she said with a little laugh. “When have you ever seen Kelly proceed on schedule except with her clients or ball games?”

  Steve swallowed another delicious bite while his friends teased Megan. “It’s okay, Megan. Kelly and I are having dinner together in Denver tomorrow.”

  Megan brightened immediately. “That’s great! Maybe you guys could, uh . . . move it along a little . . . or a lot,” she suggested slyly, eyes dancing.

  Jennifer and Pete laughed out loud.

  So did Steve. “Did she just say what I thought she said?” He tipped back his ale.

  “She sure did,” Marty added, leaning his head back on the sofa as he laughed softly.

  “Jeez, Megan,” Lisa chided.

  “This is Kelly we’re talking about,” Greg said, then took a deep drink of his beer.

  “I know, I know,” Megan said defensively. “It’s just I’m tired of watching these two dancing around each other.”

  Steve joined his friends’ laughter. “Hey, Megan, I’m ready and willing,” he said with a big grin as he slouched in the upholstered chair. “But I’m not gonna jump her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

  This time the laughter bounced off the walls of Lisa and Greg’s great room as Megan turned beet red. Steve reached for another slice of pizza, enjoying the racy comments that followed.

  He’d waited for Kelly before. He would wait for her again. Kelly could move as slowly as she wanted. He’d still be there. She was worth the wait.

  Nine

  “I can really use some coffee,” Dave Germaine said as he and Kelly approached the coffee urns set up outside Warner Development’s meeting room.

  “Me, too,” Kelly agreed, waiting her turn behind two other caffeine-deprived staffers. “Twenty-plus overhead charts can make your eyes cross.”

  Dave laughed. “You got that right. After you.” He gestured for Kelly to attack the coffee urns first. “Hey, are you staying in Denver tonight? I was hoping you and I might get together for dinner. There’s a new Cajun place over in LoDo that I think you’ll like.”

  Kelly took a sip of the not-strong-but-not-too-weak coffee. Ackkk. How do people drink this stuff? She glanced back at handsome Dave Germaine. They’d had several enjoyable dinners several months ago, and they’d dined together a few times these last few months. Whenever Steve was out of town traveling. Kelly was amazed at Dave’s ability to sense whenever Steve was gone, and he zer
oed in to ask her out. Steve had excellent instincts, however. Consequently, Steve zeroed in on Kelly when he’d seen her talking to Dave at the last of the Thornton project follow-up meetings.

  Kelly smiled behind her cup. She’d recognized Steve’s behavior. He clearly saw Dave Germaine as a “competitor” for Kelly’s affections. Dave, for his part, seemed to sense that. They reminded Kelly of two bighorn Colorado mountain rams, squaring off against each other on a mountaintop. Kelly could almost read Steve’s mind. He’d like nothing better than to go head down and knock Dave Germaine over a cliff. To Steve’s credit, he didn’t punch Dave out, even though Kelly could tell Steve wanted to.

  Kelly took another sip of weak coffee as she and Dave moved away from the coffee station. “Maybe another time, Dave. I’ve already got plans for dinner tonight.”

  “Damn, that’s too bad. Are they solid plans or is there some wiggle room?” he tempted.

  “They’re solid,” Kelly replied, smiling at him.

  Dave returned her smile. “Anyone I know?”

  Kelly laughed softly. “You’ve met before. Across the volleyball net.”

  She saw the flash of recognition in Dave’s eyes. “Oh, yeah. Your volleyball friend. You two known each other long?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, over three years.”

  “That long, huh?” Dave grinned. “Is he a good friend or a really good friend.”

  Kelly couldn’t resist a wicked grin. “A really good friend.”

  “I see,” Dave said with a nod. “Okay, I’ll consider myself forewarned.”

  Kelly laughed softly until her cell phone jangled in her shoulder bag. She fished it out and spotted Burt’s name and number flashing on the screen. “I’ve gotta take this, Dave. A Fort Connor call.”

  “Talk to you later,” Dave said. “And Kelly, just for the record, I don’t give up easily.”

  Kelly held the little phone and let it ring. “Just for the record . . . neither does he.” She grinned, then clicked on to the call. “Hey, Burt.”

  “Hey, Kelly, I can tell I got you at that Denver meeting. I can call you later.”