“No, no, it’s okay, Burt. We’re taking a break. What’s up?”
“Well, a lot, actually. Leann came running into the shop a little while ago, panic-stricken. I’ve never seen her like that. Not like herself at all. Two policemen came over to her house early this morning to question her. They asked her where she was the night of Zoe Yeager’s death. Leann told them she went to the Presbyterian Church to see someone, then came home to continue working on her customers’ garments.”
Kelly felt a cold spot settle in her gut. Oh, no. One of those women in Zoe’s class probably told the cops about Leann’s confrontation with Zoe earlier that evening.
Burt took a deep breath. “Next, the detective asked Leann if she had a gun, and she said no. Then the detective, who must have been Dan from the way Leann described him, asked her if she was sure she didn’t have a gun or maybe a gun collection. That’s when Leann said she remembered her father’s collection in the family room. Apparently, she had her father’s pistols and revolvers in a glass case on the wall.”
“Uh-oh . . .” Kelly drew in her breath and deliberately edged away from the crowded area outside the meeting room.
“Yeah, you know where I’m going with this, I’m sure. Anyway, Leann told them about the gun collection, and they asked to see it, naturally.”
“Why have I got a bad feeling about what you’re about to say?”
“Probably because you’ve already read my mind, Kelly. Leann said she took them into the family room and went over to the glass case, only to find one gun missing.”
The cold in Kelly’s gut spread. “Oh, no . . .”
Burt sighed again. “Oh, yes. Leann said she was shocked to see it gone and told the detectives, but you can understand how bad that looked.”
“Heck, yes.”
“It gets worse.”
“What?” Kelly stopped walking, her hand pressed to her other ear.
“Leann said the detectives showed her a gun inside a plastic bag and asked if it resembled the gun she was missing. Leann said she was stunned. It looked exactly like it, and she told the detective so. She said her father bought the gun over twenty years ago.”
“Oh, brother . . . of course that was the gun used in the murder, no doubt.”
“Right, you are, Sherlock. Dan told me they questioned the five women who were in Zoe’s evening class, and each of them had recounted Leann’s angry confrontation with Zoe earlier that evening. So you can understand why they showed up at Leann’s door.”
“I understand, Burt, but it doesn’t make me feel any better,” she said. “I simply cannot picture Leann being angry enough with Zoe to hang around after class and shoot her.”
“I know, I know . . .” Burt said with a weary sigh. “I have never understood how someone could rationalize murder, but they do. I understand why they do it. They’re angry, or they’re afraid. Usually it’s one or the other.”
Kelly noticed her fellow Warner Development folk were traipsing back into the meeting room. “How is Leann doing?”
“She’s a wreck, Kelly, to be honest. It took Mimi and me several minutes to calm her down enough to get a straight story out of her. I feel so sorry this is happening.”
Kelly could hear the tired sound in Burt’s voice. Too many years spent investigating ugly crimes. One person killing another. As old as time itself. She was glad Burt had retired from his Fort Connor police detective position the year before she met him, the same year Kelly came to Fort Connor for her aunt Helen’s funeral. It had been Burt who had encouraged her to keep asking questions whenever she found things that didn’t make sense. Particularly whenever someone she cared about was involved in a murder. Burt had encouraged her “sleuthing.”
In fact, he said he enjoyed it. Thanks to Kelly, he’d said he felt like he hadn’t really left the department.
“So am I, Burt. I don’t know Leann as well as you and Mimi do, but she certainly appears to be a nice woman. Of course, I have to admit, I was present when she came storming into the shop late one afternoon and showed Mimi and me the photo of Zoe’s prizewinning gown. Leann produced a photo of one of her early designs, and I have to admit, Burt . . . those two designs were identical.”
“Do you think Zoe stole that design from Leann?”
“Well, they are identical in style, and Zoe worked in Leann’s shop for a year before she went out on her own. And according to Mimi, Leann’s business was much more successful then, too. Ever since Zoe started her shop, Leann’s lost customers. And I do recall Leann saying that Zoe had taken a list of her customers when she worked there. Leann was convinced.”
“Really. That’s very interesting, Kelly. Thanks for mentioning it. I’ll pass that information on to Dan.”
“You know, I almost wish I didn’t know about it, but I can’t pretend I didn’t hear the conversation. Now I feel even worse for Leann.”
“Don’t worry, Kelly. You did the right thing, and you know it. It’s new information, and Dan will want to hear it. Thanks, Sherlock.”
That didn’t make Kelly feel any better. “Has Dan talked with Vera?”
“I imagine he has. Why?”
“According to Leann and Mimi, Vera also worked with Zoe at Leann’s shop years ago. Maybe she has more information. And Vera told them she was still working whenever she could for Leann to earn extra money. That was until Zoe’s death. Now it looks like Vera is hiring Leann to work for her while she finishes Zoe’s customers’ sewing. Strange how things turn around.”
“Strange, indeed, Kelly.”
“Listen, Burt, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. I won’t be back into Fort Connor until late tonight.”
“I’ll call you if I hear anything else.”
“Please, do. Take care, Burt.” She clicked off and hurried into the meeting room.
* * *
Kelly took a sip of the French chardonnay. Ummmm, clean and smooth, she thought as she savored it. No heavy oak weighing down the flavor. Glancing around the dimly lit restaurant, Kelly admired the brass fixtures and dark woods used in the decor. Cozy like an old English pub, yet elegant and sophisticated like the posh private club it had once been more than a hundred years ago.
“This is a beautiful place, Steve. I’ve never been here before, although I’ve heard about it. Good choice.” She raised her wineglass to him before taking a sip.
“I thought you’d like it,” Steve said with a smile. “By the way, I really like this wine more than I thought I would.” He took another sip.
“You know how much I like to try new wines. So I couldn’t resist trying this one. I like it.”
The sound of a clarinet, sending up a rhythmic jazz riff, drew Kelly’s attention to the corner of the room, where the jazz pianist was generously letting the clarinet man take the familiar melody wherever he wished.
“Boy, were they smart to remodel this place several years ago,” Kelly observed, looking around the room. “These fixtures alone have doubled in price over the years. And this thick walnut paneling is seriously hard to find in that grade. I know because Arthur Housemann has been building that dream house of his in the canyon, and he’s using lots of antique fixtures in his den. He swears the prices have doubled on some items.”
Steve laughed softly as he leaned on the table and set his glass down. “That’s the challenge of dating an accountant. A romantic dinner can turn into a budgetary discussion.”
Kelly met his gaze. He was teasing her, she could tell. “Hey, budgets can be romantic. If you love saving money, I mean,” she said with a grin.
Steve leaned both arms on the table, moving closer. “You know how much I love being with you, Kelly. We can take this as slowly as you want. I’m in no hurry. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Neither am I,” she said, leaning closer. “I’m glad you’re here . . . with me.”
Unfortunately, the server chose that moment to refill their water glasses. Kelly caught Steve’s amused gaze and laughed softly.
“Oh, yeah . . .
you can also tell Pretty Boy Germaine, if he has any problems with that, I’ll be glad to discuss it with him. Anytime.” Steve eyed her over his wineglass.
“You know, he asked me out to dinner tonight,” she said with a sly smile. “But I told him I already had plans.”
“Sonovabitch,” Steve muttered, setting his glass down with a thump. “He moves in whenever I’m out of town.”
Kelly laughed. “He’s just a colleague, Steve.”
“I know, but he’s always circling you, like a coyote.” Steve scowled. “I’m gonna have to have a talk with this guy.”
“You just want an excuse to punch him out,” Kelly teased.
“Yeah, that, too.”
“You can’t do that, Steve.”
“Sure I can.”
“You could, but Dave’s the kind of guy who might sue you for assault. Or he’d bad-mouth you to every builder and developer in Denver. You’re rebuilding your business, Steve. The last thing you need is an enemy. Dave’s not some scumbag in the canyon who’s threatening me. He knows everybody.”
Steve stared into his wineglass and took a drink. Then he gave Kelly a crooked smile. “You’re right. He probably would. Damn! I still hate his guts.”
Kelly laughed deep in her throat. “Then take it out on the court. Warner’s starting a volleyball league for Metro Denver builders. Why don’t you and your friend Vic join another team. I heard Overby Brothers is starting one. That way, we can all have some friendly competition.”
Steve’s eyes lit up. “Great idea. I’ll give Vic a call. Then I’ve gotta practice spiking the ball. Hard.”
They both laughed out loud as the waiter served their salads.
Ten
Kelly trailed her fingers across the multicolored balls of merino wool and silk as she walked from the Lambspun foyer through the central yarn room. Butter yellow, lime green. Small yarn twists that would require extra small knitting needles. Much smaller than Kelly liked working with.
Spotting Mimi seated in the main knitting room, Kelly headed there. “Hi, Mimi, I was hoping I’d find you here,” Kelly said as she dropped her knitting bag on the table and pulled out a chair.
Mimi looked up from the soft forest green yarn she was knitting, and her somber expression vanished, replaced by a bright smile. “Kelly, I’m so glad you came in. I was hoping to see you today.”
“That’s why I came over this morning before I start my client work. I wanted to talk with you. As you know, Burt called me Saturday when I was in Denver and told me all about Leann.” Kelly pulled the almost-finished shawl from her knitting bag.
“That was simply dreadful.” Mimi’s smile disappeared again as she returned her attention to the green yarn. “I cannot believe this is happening to Leann. She’s a competent, talented person. She’s not capable of shooting Zoe. That’s ridiculous!”
Kelly refrained from commenting that anyone was capable of murder if they had enough reason. That’s what the police called motive.
“I agree Leann is a lovely person, Mimi,” Kelly said as she picked up her knitting stitches where she left off. This was the last row along the top edge of the shawl. After this row she could bind off all her stitches, and she would be finished. Finally. “But the gun she owned was used in Zoe’s murder. You have to admit that does look very bad.”
Mimi’s worry frown appeared. “I know it does. And Leann has no idea what happened to it.”
Kelly glanced at her dear friend. Mimi hated to think badly of anyone she knew and liked. It was simply against her nature. “Of course, that naturally makes the police suspicious, as you can understand.”
“Of course.”
Kelly paused for a moment before adding, “Especially when police heard from the women in Zoe’s class that Leann had confronted Zoe that night and accused her of stealing. They were all witnesses to the confrontation.”
Mimi didn’t answer right away, but her stitches picked up speed. Finally she spoke softly. “I was afraid this would happen, Kelly. Ever since you told me police questioned the women in Zoe’s class. I wish Leann hadn’t done that. I never thought she’d go through with it, Kelly. Actually drive over to Zoe’s class, I mean.”
“I wish she hadn’t, either,” Kelly added. “It certainly makes her look suspicious now. Police know she had a reason to be angry at Zoe, and she was in possession of the murder weapon. Not good, Mimi. Definitely not good.”
Mimi’s head jerked up. “But what if someone stole that gun? Leann said she couldn’t remember the last time she’d even noticed the gun case on the wall. She was so used to seeing it. What if someone else stole the gun?”
Kelly sent Mimi a wry smile. “Well, anything’s possible, Mimi. But who in the world would steal a gun from someone’s private collection hanging on the wall? You have to admit that sounds a bit far-fetched.”
Mimi frowned, clearly trying to conjure a believable scenario for her friend. “Who knows? Maybe . . . maybe some thief came in looking for money or jewelry or something valuable. Maybe he stole it! Then . . . then he sold it on the black market!”
Kelly deliberately kept her smile in check. Mimi’s scenario was certainly inventive. “That’s entirely possible, Mimi. But then, that would mean some anonymous person who wanted to kill Zoe bought the same gun on the black market. Burt has told us guns are readily available, but the main point is why would this anonymous person want to kill Zoe?”
Mimi’s worry frown reappeared, claiming her face. “You’re right, Kelly. I know you’re right. Why would some criminal want to kill a seamstress in Fort Connor? It makes no sense. None of this makes sense.”
Deciding to switch subjects slightly, Kelly knitted several stitches along the lengthy top edge of the shawl. “Tell me, how did Leann look Saturday? Burt said she was a wreck.”
“Ohhh, she was, Kelly. She was petrified,” Mimi said, returning to the green afghan. “She was stammering she was so scared. I’d never seen Leann like that. Burt and I took her into the café and poured creamy tea into her until she calmed down, so she could tell us everything that happened.”
“Burt says he thinks Dan was the detective who questioned Leann. What did she have to say about him?”
“She was scared to death of him. She thought he was there simply because Zoe had once worked for her. But then he started asking questions about her. Leann said that frightened her, especially when he asked about her whereabouts that evening. She said that’s when she started to panic.”
“Did she mention anything else Dan asked about?” Kelly probed. “Other than her whereabouts that evening and the gun. Did he ask anything about her relationship with Zoe?”
“Let me think,” Mimi said, still focusing on the green yarn. “I think she said he asked how long Zoe had worked for her and . . . and if they had parted on good terms. Which they had, of course. Oh, and he asked how well Leann’s business was doing, and . . . and . . .” Mimi suddenly looked up at Kelly. “Oh, no . . .”
Kelly watched Mimi’s face register the realization of what she’d just said. “Oh, yes, Mimi. Dan deliberately asked those questions about Zoe working for Leann. Some of those women in the class no doubt knew the details of Leann’s and Zoe’s past history together.”
“Oh, no . . .”
“I hope Leann acted calm while she answered Dan’s questions,” Kelly added, even though she doubted that happened at all.
“Poor Leann . . . who knows what she said. She told us she was so panicked by his questions that she can’t even remember what she said.” Mimi closed her eyes, knitting dropped to her lap.
Things certainly weren’t looking good for Leann, Kelly thought as she focused on her stitches. She did not want to mess up this top row. It would be the most visible because this part of the shawl would be over her shoulders and meet in the front. If she dropped a stitch, the whole world would see. Well . . . the fiber folks at the wedding would see. Most people were oblivious to the mistakes knitters fretted over.
Clearly, Leann d
id not hold up well under questioning. It sounded as if she wound up looking even more suspicious in Dan’s eyes. Kelly would have to ask Burt what Dan actually was thinking. Surely, scores of innocent people have panicked when first questioned by police. It’s an intimidating process.
The tinkling of the entry doorbell sounded, and Kelly figured the daily deluge of customers was about to begin. She’d only spied one early shopper in the loom room when she’d first entered. To Kelly’s surprise, Leann walked into the main room.
“Hi, Mimi . . . hey, Kelly,” Leann said as she approached the table, holding a dress box.
“Leann! I’m so glad you came in,” Mimi said, practically leaping from her chair. “How are you doing?”
Kelly barely recognized Leann. Gone was the bright, pretty Leann. Now she looked pale and wan. Leann’s eyes were also noticeably redder, the sure signs of weeping. “Mimi told me the police questioned you, Leann. That must have been dreadful,” she commiserated. “How are you holding up?”
Leann glanced to Kelly. “Not good, Kelly. That policeman scared me so. My hands were shaking so much, I couldn’t sew afterwards. Thank goodness I’d almost finished the matron of honor alteration. Last night, I tried again. I could only sew in short spurts, but I was able to finish it.” She set the box on the table.
“That’s wonderful, Leann. I’ll call Megan,” Mimi said, then enveloped Leann in a big hug. Leann returned Mimi’s hug.
“I already called,” Leann said once she’d released Mimi. “Megan told me to express mail it to her sister so she can try it on and bring it with her when she flies here next week.”
“Here, sit down and relax with us for a few minutes,” Mimi urged, patting the table. “Would you like some tea?”
Leann gave a small smile as she settled into a chair between Kelly and Mimi. “No, thank you. I’ve been using your cream tea recipe all yesterday, and I’m kinda overdosing on it.”
Kelly reached out and offered some comfort of her own by placing her hand on Leann’s arm. “Remember, Leann, you’re not alone in all of this. We’re here for you. Please tell me if there’s anything you need.”
Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery) Page 11
