Kelly sank into a chair. “Don’t worry about it? Are you kidding? The wedding is in ten days! Everyone else’s shawls are done, and they’re all perfect! I saw them. How can I not worry about it? I swear, I even dreamed about it last night.”
Kelly frowned as she reached for her mug, but even Eduardo’s Divine Brew could not wash away Knitting Angst. She was deep in it and burrowing deeper.
Mimi watched her carefully, clearly recognizing the signs. “How much coffee have you had already?”
“Not enough.” Kelly pouted as she pulled out her laptop computer.
“Maybe you need a cup of creamy tea instead,” Mother Mimi suggested.
Kelly looked up, aghast, then made a face. “Ackkkk!” was her only comment.
Mimi laughed softly. “Have you ever tried hot tea?”
Kelly made a different face as she flipped open her laptop. “Once. When I was a little girl, and Aunt Helen gave it to me. It made me sick. I threw up even more.”
“It sounds like you were already sick, but okay. No tea. How about if I get you some of Eduardo’s coffee with some cream in it?”
“Eewwuuuu!” Kelly said, trying to keep her petulant tone, but Mimi was making it hard. “Defile perfection? Don’t you dare.”
Mimi threw up both hands. “Okay, I give up. No tea. No cream in your coffee. I’ll just leave you to wallow in your Knitting Angst.”
Kelly had to laugh as she sank back into the wooden chair. “It’s so frustrating, Mimi. Every time I think I’m getting better as a knitter, something happens. I do something stupid! Like this mistake on the shawl.” She gave a dismissive wave toward the adjoining room, where her blue shawl was stretched out on the blocking board.
“Kelly, you are entirely too hard on yourself,” Mimi chided gently. “We all make mistakes like that. Even though we’re experienced knitters, we still make mistakes. Ask anyone.”
Kelly wasn’t ready to climb out of the Angst Swamp yet. “Still, it’s so close to the wedding. What if the shawl isn’t stretched by then?”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine by the wedding,” Mimi promised, reaching over to give Kelly’s arm one of her encouraging pats.
“You sure?” Kelly asked, still dubious.
“Trust me, okay? Meanwhile, I think you need some time with your shawl. That will make you feel better. Come on, I’ll set up the steamer for you.” Mimi beckoned Kelly toward the adjoining workroom.
“You’re humoring me, aren’t you?” Kelly said, recognizing Mimi’s soothing tone. She’d heard it many times over the three-plus years she’d been at Lambspun.
“Yes, I am,” Mimi said from the doorway. “And I’m allowed to. You girls call me Mother Mimi, so come along and do what Mother says.”
Kelly laughed. “Coming, Mother,” she said as she rose from her chair and followed Mimi. She spotted her blue shawl lying on the blocking board where she’d left it yesterday. From this angle, it looked fine. Both bottom edges of the shawl looked even.
“See? It’s waiting for you to steam it again.” Mimi gestured to the board. “Let me refill the steamer, and you’ll be ready to go.” She took the metal wand and walked into the adjoining office area.
“Are you sure I can’t hurt it by steaming it again? It looks okay now,” Kelly asked Mimi, who was standing beside a sink.
“Not at all. In fact, you need to steam it several times.” Mimi walked back into the workroom and plugged the steamer cord into a socket. “There now. Let this heat up, then steam it exactly the way you did yesterday. Rosa told me she showed you.”
Kelly nodded. “Start at the top edge of the shawl and move downward gently.”
“Good girl.” Mimi gave her a smile. “Now do that again, every six hours or so. Check first to see if the wool is still damp. If it is, then wait till it feels drier.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Kelly played along, taking the metal steamer.
“It’ll be ready in a minute,” Mimi said, walking toward the hallway. “I have to check up front. Rosa may need help with customers. Now, you start steaming. It’ll make you feel better.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Just don’t bring me any creamed tea.”
Mimi’s light laughter floated behind her as she walked away.
No one else was in the room. She’d come over before the shop was officially open. Kelly stared at the shawl stretched on the corkboard, which lay on a worktable. It looked perfect to Kelly. She stroked the soft blue wool and mohair yarn. The pushpins were clearly holding the shawl in place, and she’d measured each side. Both bottom edges were exactly the same length and the same width. Now . . . if the shawl only held its shape when the pushpins were removed, she’d be happy.
The steamer hissed in her hand, snakelike. She pushed the steamer button and a blast of hot steam shot out of the flat head of the wand. The steamer snake was clearly ready.
“Okay, shawl, time for another session,” she said as she bent over the board and started steaming.
She did the correct side first, with lighter pressure, as Rosa had instructed. Then she moved to the side of the shawl that needed to be lengthened. She let the steamer linger over the stitches longer while she exerted more pressure on the yarn.
“Stretch. Stretch. You want to stretch,” she said to the yarn, then glanced over her shoulder to make sure no customers were approaching. “C’mon, be a good yarn and stretch. Stretching is good.”
She moved the wand down, holding it in place over the area that had looked the shortest. Now it was stretched into its proper length.
“Stretch, strettttch. You’re wool. You come from sheep. The sheep want you to stretch,” she commanded.
“Oh, boy, it’s worse than I thought,” Jennifer’s voice sounded as she walked into the room, coffee mug in hand. “Mimi said you were deep in the Knitting Angst Swamp, but it’s worse than that. Now you’re talking to the yarn.”
Kelly looked up at her friend, but kept on steaming. “Don’t you talk to your yarn?”
“Actually, no. But then, I’m not cooped up in a cottage all day staring at numbers on a spreadsheet. I’m talking to people constantly in the café.” Jennifer settled into a chair at the worktable and pulled out the maroon wool sweater she was knitting.
“I’m not cooped up in the cottage,” Kelly corrected. “It’s quiet and peaceful there. And when I want conversation, I come over here. Of course, sometimes I get more aggravation than conversation, like now.”
“Am I annoying you?” Jennifer asked innocently, looking up from her needles. “Good. You need to be annoyed periodically. It’s good for you.”
“Believe me, the yarn is annoying me enough.” Kelly returned her concentration to steaming the shorter side of the shawl.
“Actually, I think the yarn annoyance is merely a symptom.”
“Symptom of what?” Kelly asked absently, focusing her considerable concentration on the shawl’s edge.
“Yarn aggravation is just a symptom of the deeper problem,” Jennifer said sagely. “Once that’s addressed, all will be well.” Her fingers moved rapidly, stitches forming on her needles.
Kelly paused over the steamer and glanced at her friend. Jennifer was going somewhere with this, so she might as well play along. At least it was better than arguing with the yarn.
“Deeper problem?” she parroted. “And what, pray tell, would that be?”
“Simple. You and Steve need to get back together. And by ‘together’ I mean together together. Like you used to be. Then all will be well,” Jennifer pronounced, as if she were giving the local weather. Cloudy tonight, sunny tomorrow, maybe.
Kelly stopped steaming and turned to her friend, expecting to see a smile. Jennifer was calmly knitting away. “Excuse me?”
Jennifer glanced up and gave her an indulgent smile. “You have questions, Young Skywalker?”
A laugh escaped before Kelly stopped it. Okaaaay. Jennifer was obviously in a playful mood. “Uh, yes . . . Obi Wan. I beg to differ. Steve and I have gotten toget
her. Many times. We’ve gone to dinner countless times. We’ve been out with you guys, we see each other here in Fort Connor and in Denver—”
“Hold!” Jennifer commanded, hand up in stop position.
“I don’t recall Obi Wan Kenobi saying that. Or did you just slip from Star Wars into Star Trek? You sound like a Klingon.”
“Obi Wan is on a meditation break, so I’m speaking as the Doctor of Love right now.”
“Ahhhh, I remember her. But that was before you were with Pete. You know, together together with Pete,” Kelly teased with a wicked grin.
Jennifer didn’t bat an eye, but Kelly did spot a smile. “Nevertheless, that doctoral certificate is still hanging on my bulletin board. It may be covered over with catering schedules now, but it’s still there. So I’m speaking as a trained and seasoned expert.”
“Ahhhh . . . I see.”
“And as such, it is my professional opinion that you and Steve need to move this dating thing into the fast lane and get serious. It is positively painful to watch you two trying not to let on how much you want each other. Steve wants you. You want Steve. For heaven’s sake, get it over with and move back in with each other. Both of you are seriously deprived.”
Jennifer returned to her knitting, as if she’d just told Kelly what she needed to buy at the grocery store.
Kelly kept her smile in check, but it was difficult. “Deprived, huh?”
“You’re unusually dense today, Young Skywalker. If you’re not careful, I’ll hand your training over to Yoda. You’ll recognize her. Short, dark, curly hair. Quick temper.”
Kelly snickered. “Oh, no! Not Yoda!”
“Seriously. Megan’s blood pressure is rocketing. Lisa’s biting her nails. Greg refuses to ride in Steve’s truck anymore because all he plays are sad country songs. Marty rode with Steve once and was depressed for days. Mimi and Burt are losing patience. Curt and Jayleen lost it months ago. Steve’s own father is still mad at him. Even Pete and I are beginning to get pissed, and we’re the patient ones.”
Kelly just laughed.
“So for the health and sanity of all your friends, why don’t you two just get it over with and jump in bed, okay? Do us all a favor, willya? We’ll all feel better. And you and Steve will feel a whole lot better. I promise you.” Jennifer held up her hand, Scout style.
This time, Kelly bent over the blocking table, she was laughing so hard.
Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Well, that’s enough counseling for today. Gotta get back to the café.” She gathered her knitting into its bag as she rose.
Kelly tried to catch her breath.
“Heed my words, Young Skywalker, or the Force will leave you flat.” Jennifer then gave a combination Klingon and Empire trooper salute, then hurried down the hallway back to the café.
Kelly laughed softly, watching her friend leave. You had to love friends like that. No one else would talk to her like Jennifer. She turned off the steamer and placed it on the shelf, then patted the shawl. Nice and damp. Perfect for stretching, Mimi said. Now maybe she could get some accounting work done.
Heading back into the main room, Kelly saw Burt setting up his spinning wheel in the corner. She wondered if Burt had overheard Jennifer’s Obi Wan–Love Doctor advice. Even if he had, Burt wouldn’t let on.
“Hey, Burt, you can keep me company while I’m working on my clients,” Kelly said as she returned to her laptop computer at the table.
Burt looked up and gave Kelly a smile. “I’ll enjoy your company, Kelly. But first, let’s take a minute to talk, shall we?”
“Sure. What’s up?” she said, settling into the wooden chair.
Burt pulled out a chair beside her and leaned closer. He glanced over his shoulder, then spoke in a soft voice. “I heard from Dan. They’ve learned that Leann O’Hara and Oscar Yeager had a brief affair two years ago.”
Kelly sat upright in an instant. “What!” she exclaimed, louder than she’d intended. She lowered her voice as she leaned toward Burt. “I can’t believe that! A nice woman like Leann with Oscar! Good Lord! He’s a drunk and a brute. What was she thinking?”
Burt gave a rueful smile. “I feel the same way, Kelly. I can’t understand it, either. Leann must have been really lonely or desperate or something to get together with him.”
Kelly frowned. “Okay, what are the police thinking? What connection does this have to Zoe’s murder?”
“Well, there are several possibilities, Kelly. Leann owned the murder weapon and had the gun in a glass case in her home. Oscar, no doubt, saw it there. Dan said that the most obvious way for Oscar to have access to the gun would be if Leann gave it to him. If so, and Oscar used the gun to shoot Zoe, then Leann would be an accomplice.”
“But what if she didn’t know he was going to kill Zoe?” Kelly protested.
“Even so, Kelly. If she willingly gave Oscar the gun, then she’s drawn into it. Whether it’s fair or not.”
“I’ll bet Oscar stole the gun. That sounds like a more plausible scenario. I can attribute Leann’s liaison with Oscar to temporary insanity maybe. But I cannot see her helping Oscar murder his wife.”
“That’s possibility number two. Oscar stole the gun when Leann wasn’t looking or . . . or came in while Leann was out. Then he killed Zoe without anyone knowing it was him.”
“I’ll vote for that one.”
“Then, of course, there’s the third possibility that we already know about. Perhaps Leann used the gun to kill Zoe. Learning Leann and Oscar have been lovers tends to make other possibilities open up. Who knows? Maybe Leann really loved Oscar and did whatever he asked. Smart people do stupid things all the time, Kelly.”
Kelly screwed up her face. “Yeah, but with Oscar? Yuck!”
“Believe me, there are a lot worse types out there than Oscar, and they often attract good women to help them. I know, it makes no sense. But sex mixes up people’s thinking, and they can make very bad decisions.”
Kelly wagged her head. “Boy, this makes it look worse for Leann, doesn’t it?”
“I’m afraid so, Kelly.”
“Has Dan gone to question Leann again?”
“He’s going to see her today. I haven’t told Mimi. I know I can trust you to keep information confidential.”
She let out a sigh. “You know you can, Burt. This is so sad. Leann has moved front and center in Dan’s suspect circle.”
“Yeah, you’re right, Kelly,” Burt said as he returned to his spinning spot in the corner. “I need to spin awhile and let my thoughts settle.”
“I wish I had something to knit, Burt, and I’d join you, but I only brought my briefcase this morning. My half-finished projects are back in the bag.”
Burt grabbed a handful of cream-colored fleece from a large plastic bag at his feet and began drafting the wool—stretching the fibers into what spinners called batten or roving. That way, it was easier to spin.
“I saw your blue shawl tacked on the blocking board. It looks good, Kelly.”
“If only it will hold its shape after those pins are removed. That’s why I’m working here today, so I can steam it several times.” She glanced over to Burt, whose feet began to work the spinning wheel’s treadle. “Mother Mimi’s orders.”
“Yes, I heard about that,” he said, smiling as the roving slid through his parted fingers, joining the yarn twist that wound around the moving wheel.
Kelly fired up her laptop and waited for the icons to blink into life. Meanwhile, the disturbing images of Leann together with Oscar kept intruding. Talk about a lapse of judgment. There was no other way to explain it. Whatever the reason, now the police had even more reason to suspect Leann’s involvement in Zoe’s death.
Icons blinked into place, and Kelly clicked on the one labeled HOUSEMANN. The screen obliged and a spreadsheet appeared, with tabs below leading to more spreadsheets. Numbers, numbers everywhere.
Instead of diving into the numbers and eliminating the Oscar-Leann images, another thought popped up. Her
conversation yesterday with Jayleen’s friend, Anna. The shawl problem had temporarily chased away the memory of Anna’s account of Zoe in the parking lot that evening.
“You know, Burt, I had an interesting conversation with a woman yesterday. She was a friend of Jayleen’s and had mentioned that she was taking Zoe Yeager’s sewing class. Jayleen gave me her number, and I called her yesterday morning. I wanted to tell you, but you and Mimi escaped to the mountains all day.” She smiled.
“We sure did, and boy, was it worth it. You should go up there, Kelly. Or better, you and Steve should go up there together.” He caught her eye and grinned. “And don’t come down until you two are back together again.”
Kelly had to laugh. So Burt did overhear Jennifer’s Obi Wan advice. She should have known. “Boy, this is the morning for advice. At least you’re not hiding behind a Star Wars character.”
“I would if it would do any good.”
“Okay . . . I’ll take it under advisement. Boy, you guys are something else. Anyway, I wanted to tell you what this woman, Anna, had to say. First, she mentioned that Zoe told the entire class she’d left Oscar and was filing for divorce. Anna said she applauded because she’d seen Oscar before. And she told me about the time Oscar came into Zoe’s class last year and demanded money. Anna said he looked drunk to her.”
“Oscar at his finest.” Burt didn’t look up, simply kept feeding the roving onto the wheel, his feet rhythmically pedaling.
“I agree. But here’s where it gets interesting. Anna said they all left class together, and Zoe was surprised that the shelter staffer wasn’t already there, waiting for her.”
Burt’s head popped up at that. “What? That’s part of their procedure.”
“Well, Anna said Zoe told her she would drive to the nearby shopping center and wait there. She figured they were delayed. Then Zoe’s phone rang while she was getting into her car and she told Anna it was probably the staffer calling.”
“Still. Zoe’s husband was a proven threat to her. They should have been there.”
“I thought so, too, and so did Anna. In fact, she waited in her car to make sure Zoe drove out of the parking lot. And get this, Burt. Anna said Zoe was behind her, and she watched Zoe drive out of the lot onto the residential street. Anna figured she was safe then, so she drove off. Of course, now she’s feeling majorly guilty because she thinks if she’d stayed, Zoe would still be alive.”
Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery) Page 14
