Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery)

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Cast On, Kill Off (A Knitting Mystery) Page 17

by Sefton, Maggie


  The sound of Steve’s voice in her ear brought back a ton of memories, really good memories, and their accompanying sensations. “That sounds like a plan. I’d love to meet for dinner. You can catch me up on what’s happening with the house design. When would you get here approximately? I’ll make reservations.”

  “Around seven or so. Hope that’s not too late.”

  Not for you, Kelly thought, and let her smile infuse her voice. “Sounds good to me. You want to meet me here or at the Bistro?”

  “Wait for me at the cottage. We’ll get more time together.” His voice dropped lower. “I missed you, Kelly.”

  That felt really good inside, and Kelly responded honestly. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  “That’s really good to hear.”

  “It’s the truth.”

  “Damn, I wish I had more time but I have to drive back to Denver tonight. I promised both Sam and Baxter I’d meet them early tomorrow morning with the new drawings.”

  “Hey, you’ll have more time next week. Sam knows you’re taking a few days off for the wedding, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. It’s been on the calendar for months. Uh-oh. Got a call from Sam coming in. Gotta go. See you tonight, Kelly.”

  “You bet,” Kelly promised, matching Steve’s warm tone before she clicked off.

  Jennifer could make all the jokes she wanted, but the nice-and-easy approach she and Steve had taken worked just fine. Whenever they talked, it felt like old times. Comfortable, warm, and satisfying. They were almost back to where they’d left off, but better. The last year they were together had been tense and stressful. But now . . . now Kelly could feel both of them return to the way they had always been. Best friends who loved being with each other . . . then became lovers.

  When that next step would come about, Kelly didn’t know. Maybe next week when Steve was staying in Fort Connor for Megan and Marty’s wedding. There would be no deadlines and no schedules for either of them. Kelly had also carved out some time on her calendar for celebrating with her friends and for relaxing. Maybe she and Steve could relax together.

  Kelly stared at her spreadsheet, but her mind was no longer on the numbers. In fact, she almost didn’t hear the little voice that sounded from the archway at the entrance to the main room. She glanced up and saw Lizzie von Steuben approach, Hilda’s round, plump dumpling of a sister.

  “Goodness, you must have been lost in your accounts, Kelly,” Lizzie said with her trademark dimpled smile. She plopped her tapestry knitting bag on the table, then sat across from Kelly. “How are you, dear?”

  “Lizzie! How good to see you!” Kelly cried. “I’ve missed you the other times you’ve visited the shop. How are you?” Kelly pushed her laptop computer aside and leaned over the table.

  “I’m fine, dear, just fine,” Lizzie said, pulling out a pastel blue knitting project from her bag.

  Kelly couldn’t tell what Lizzie was knitting. It didn’t look like one of Lizzie’s usual grandniece or grandnephew baby blankets. It was bigger.

  “It was good to see Hilda again,” Kelly said. “I’m so glad her doctor found a new medication for her arthritic knees. It sounds like it’s made a huge difference in her ability to move around.”

  “Oh, it has,” Lizzie replied, her needles rhythmically moving through the light blue yarn. Picking up stitches, sliding them off one needle onto another.

  Kelly wondered if she’d ever knit that fast. But then, Lizzie and Hilda were not only fast, but also accurate. No uneven stitches or empty spaces where they shouldn’t be in their finished garments. Kelly decided she’d better stick with her slower speed in order to maintain whatever level of accuracy she possessed, meager though it might be.

  “The new anti-inflammatory cream has done wonders for Hilda. Now she can actually come here to Lambspun again, as well as her literary club meeting, which she’d sorely missed. And church is much easier, too.” Lizzie nodded, her silver hair swept up in its usual twist complete with a pastel blue bow.

  “Please tell me Hilda wasn’t trying to kneel in church.” Kelly grimaced at the thought.

  Lizzie looked up from her yarn, her bright blue eyes earnest. “Goodness, no! I made sure of that. And I still forbid her to kneel even though her knees have improved.”

  Kelly smiled at the image of younger sister Lizzie bossing around her imposing and bigger older sister.

  Another memory intruded then. Lizzie and her beau, Eustace Freemont. Love had come late in life to Lizzie and Eustace. It was obvious that they had found their “soul mates” in each other. The fact that erudite and scholarly Eustace was now residing in the Larimer County Detention Center had definitely provided a challenge to their blossoming relationship. However, during these last six months Lizzie had proved herself quite adept at overcoming challenges.

  “How is Eustace doing?” Kelly asked gently.

  Lizzie’s cheeks grew rosier, and she dimpled as she smiled at Kelly. “Ohhhh, Eustace is doing well. We’re both so grateful he was temporarily assigned to Larimer County’s facility here in town. It has made visiting much easier.”

  “Marty explained to us how that works. Colorado Department of Corrections first assigns prisoners to a Regional Diagnostic Center. After that, Eustace would be assigned to a particular prison.”

  “That’s correct, dear. Since there was no bed space available at the Diagnostic Center when Eustace was sentenced, he was temporarily placed in the Larimer County Detention Center. Hopefully, our good fortune will hold when Eustace is permanently placed in a facility somewhere else. I’ve been praying he could be assigned to a prison library or clerical duties.”

  Eustace was already in his mid-seventies, and Kelly often worried about his being able to survive in a difficult prison environment. Surely working in the library or a prison office would be a better usage for a man like Eustace than more taxing duties such as cleaning up the highways.

  “I sincerely hope so, Lizzie. Maybe he could perform minor administrative tasks. I know that Marty has written to the Regional Diagnostic Center on Eustace’s behalf. Maybe that will help.”

  “We can never thank young Marty enough. He was so committed to helping Eustace. He’s a wonderful attorney, and such a good boy.”

  Kelly had to hide her smile. Crazed Marty was definitely a different person in his legal role. She’d seen him in action defending others before. People who’d been caught up in the legal system and needed help, help they couldn’t afford. Marty had been kind enough to provide his services free, or pro bono, to several people Kelly had met while in the midst of her sleuthing.

  “How often are you allowed to visit Eustace?”

  “Here in town at the County Detention Center, I’m allowed to visit twice a week for thirty minutes each time. Even though we have to see each other through a glass partition and speak on the phone, those visits do a world of good. For me as well as for Eustace. He calls me his returning dove.” Her bright eyes twinkled.

  Kelly noticed that Lizzie’s fingers had picked up speed even though she wasn’t looking. How can someone knit that fast and not watch? “What are you making, Lizzie? It doesn’t look like a baby blanket.”

  Lizzie’s light laugh floated. “Oh, my, no. This is an afghan I’m knitting for some family at the homeless shelter. So many people have lost their homes and are out of work. I try to help the best way I can.”

  “It’s beautiful, Lizzie,” Kelly said, fingering the even rows of perfect stitches. “And that’s so kind of you. Is the pattern difficult? Maybe I’ll knit one for the shelter this fall before the cold weather sets in.”

  “That would be wonderful, dear. The pattern isn’t difficult at all. I’ll be glad to show you.” Lizzie’s dimpled smile disappeared. “I hope you don’t mind if I change the subject, dear, but there’s been something I’ve wanted to ask you. Mimi told me about Zoe Yeager’s awful murder. Such a tragedy.” She shook her silvery head. “I’d only seen Zoe once, at a church function. She was very pretty and a very
talented seamstress, too, from what I hear. Mimi said you were using those sleuthing skills of yours, dear. Have you learned anything?”

  Kelly was a bit startled by Lizzie’s question. How many people had Mimi talked to? “Oh, I’m simply asking a few questions, Lizzie. You know me. Always curious.” Kelly gave a nonchalant shrug.

  Lizzie sent her a sly little smile. “Oh, yes, dear. I certainly do know you. And once you’re intrigued by a murder investigation, you dig in. You’ve unearthed details that the police didn’t even know existed. And you’ve always been able to contribute to the investigation.”

  “Thank you, Lizzie.” Kelly tried to sound nonchalant. “I was glad I could help.”

  “Well, your considerable skills may not be needed for this crime,” Lizzie said, fingers moving faster. “It sounds like the guilty party is obvious.”

  “That’s a surprising comment,” Kelly said, wondering at Lizzie’s uncharacteristically blunt statement. “Did Mimi tell you that?”

  Lizzie looked up at Kelly, her blue eyes wide. “Oh, no, dear. Mimi would never be so indiscreet. I spoke with Vera earlier this week. We’ve known each other for years. We both go to the same church, so we chat together each Sunday after the service. We’re nearly the same age, so we’ve got a lot in common.”

  “Did Vera or Zoe ever do any sewing for you or Hilda?”

  Lizzie smiled. “No, dear. Hilda and I do our own sewing. Anyway, I’d dropped by the shop where Vera works to copy some documents for Eustace. There was no one else in the shop at the time, so Vera filled me in on the investigation. It seems the police have been keeping her informed.” Lizzie returned her concentration to her knitting. “That’s very kind of them to do so. Vera’s convinced Oscar Yeager killed her sister. Why Zoe didn’t leave that horrid husband of hers earlier is beyond me.”

  “Well, I agree with you, Lizzie. He sounds like a violent drunk who was constantly mooching off Zoe’s sewing shop earnings.”

  “Yes, indeed.” Lizzie gave a determined nod. “And he gambled away Vera’s savings, too. She told me so.”

  That surprised Kelly. “Really? I never knew that. I hadn’t heard Oscar was a gambler.”

  Lizzie turned her intense blue gaze to Kelly. “He might as well have been. He took all of the money Vera’s mother had left her. It was her nest egg, for heaven’s sake! He put it in some reckless business scheme and lost every penny! Now the poor woman has nothing to support herself in her old age.” Lizzie’s voice turned judgmental. “Poor thing.”

  “That’s awful!” Kelly exclaimed. Oscar was even worse than she’d thought. He was lower than low. “How did he get her money? Didn’t she have it in a bank or something?”

  “Vera told me she was getting ready to invest it in an IRA. But then Zoe pleaded with her to allow Oscar to invest the money. Zoe didn’t even think about what was good for her sister, just her shiftless husband. He’d started working for a financial consultant and was looking for clients.” Lizzie gave an indignant sniff.

  Kelly couldn’t believe sensible Vera would hand over money to reprobate Oscar. “Why on earth would she do that? It makes no sense.”

  “I know, dear. I wouldn’t have done it, either. But Vera said Zoe kept pushing her, wheedling and pleading, to give Oscar a chance. If you ask me, Zoe treated her sister shamefully. She paid Vera a pittance for sewing hours on end. She’d also promised Vera years ago that she would make Vera a partner in the business, but she never did.” Lizzie’s voice turned more judgmental. “Anyway, Vera admitted she was scared of Oscar, having seen him hit Zoe many times, and she was afraid not to give him the money. Afraid of what he might do to her.” Lizzie gave Kelly an ominous look.

  Kelly was surprised by Lizzie’s harsh comments. Then once again, she remembered Zoe’s phone call weeks before and the ugly, demanding tone in Zoe’s voice as she berated her older sister.

  “That is awful, simply awful,” Kelly said, picturing skinny Vera cowering before beefy Oscar. “I wonder why Mimi or Burt didn’t tell me that story.”

  “Perhaps they didn’t know,” Lizzie suggested. “Vera’s a very private person. Maybe she didn’t want many people to know what had happened. She was probably ashamed that her own sister would take advantage of her like that. But Vera and I are friends, so she feels more comfortable with me. That’s why she’s told me things she wouldn’t tell Mimi or Burt.” Lizzie leaned closer to Kelly and glanced toward the browsing customers in the next room, then lowered her voice. “Vera even shared that Zoe took the last piece of family jewelry Vera had from her mother. It was the night Zoe ran away from Oscar and stayed at Vera’s apartment. Vera saw Zoe reaching into the drawer where the diamond pin was kept. Zoe told her she needed money to support herself now that she’d left Oscar.” Lizzie scowled over her knitting at Kelly. “Vera protested, of course, but Zoe begged and wheedled and pleaded and was out the door with the diamond pin before Vera could stop her. How could Zoe do that to her sister? She knew that was the last thing of value Vera possessed. Shameful, I tell you, simply shameful. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but there was no excuse for Zoe’s behavior toward her sister.”

  “Goodness, Lizzie, I had no idea Zoe had taken advantage of Vera like that,” Kelly said, completely taken aback by Lizzie’s story. “Would you mind if I shared what you told me with Burt? Then he can share it with Mimi, if he chooses.”

  “Go ahead, dear. Burt knows how to keep confidences.”

  Just then, Kelly heard her cell phone’s familiar ring. Noticing her Denver developer client Don Warner’s name on the screen, Kelly forced away the images of Oscar, Zoe, and Vera from her mind. Back to business, she thought as she pushed away from the knitting table.

  Fifteen

  Kelly stood up from her ergonomic computer chair and stretched, arms overhead, then sauntered into the kitchen to refill her coffee mug. The morning had dawned gray and cloudy and slightly chilly. That had been enough to send Carl back inside to snooze on his doggie bed beside the patio door.

  Leaning against the kitchen counter, Kelly sipped her coffee and stared out into the gray morning. The hour-and-a-half conference call from Warner Development had taken a good chunk of time. But she’d also gotten a lot done on Arthur Housemann’s accounts.

  After a quick check of business e-mails, maybe she could escape to the café and grab a salad. Her fridge was empty. She needed to go shopping this evening, after all the errands. The Wedding List errands. Kelly was supposed to pick up all the bridesmaid shoes from the shop where they’d been dyed to match the gowns, and then deliver then to the bridesmaids. She’d promised Megan she’d do this last-minute errand, because Lisa was in therapy sessions all afternoon and Jen was catering with Pete.

  Kelly was walking back to her corner office area when a quick movement through the glass patio door caught her eye. Brazen Squirrel was skittering across the yard and into her flower beds once again. Kelly glanced down at Carl and saw him snoozing away. Big Dog’s Territory was unguarded.

  Brazen scampered between the tall green tulip leaves, blooms long since gone. Now that Brazen was closer, Kelly glimpsed what looked like a nut in his jaws. Clever squirrel, she thought. He was still busy putting up his food stores for the winter. Brazen obviously saw that Big Dog was asleep and grabbed his chance. Kelly wasn’t about to snitch on him.

  Just then, Kelly’s cell phone jangled, and she quickly snatched it, watching Big Dog himself raise his head and blink at her. Brazen had frozen in place amid her flower beds. Luckily for the little furry guy, Carl’s head flopped back down on the doggie bed and slumber ensued . . . barely interrupted.

  Lawrence Chambers’s name and number flashed on her smartphone screen. “Well, hello, Mr. Chambers, how are you? We haven’t spoken for a while.” Kelly had never been able to bring herself to call the elderly friend of her late aunt Helen by his first name even though Kelly now used Chambers’s legal services herself.

  “I’m doing well, Kelly, and I know you are,” Chambers’s mellow voice
sounded. “I wondered if we could schedule a time for you to drop by my office so we can discuss those Wyoming properties of yours. I wanted to go over your natural gas leases and their royalties.”

  “Has something come up? Are there any problems?”

  “No, no, nothing like that,” Chambers’s voice reassured. “I simply like to chat with my business clients face-to-face at least once a year. That way they have a chance to bring up any issues which might concern them.”

  “Of course, Mr. Chambers, I’ll be happy to meet with you, but could we schedule it in a couple of weeks or so, please? My friend Megan is having her wedding this Saturday, and all of us over here at Lambspun are completely absorbed in wedding preparations . . . if you know what I mean,” she said with a little laugh.

  “Oh, I understand completely, my dear. My niece was married this past June, and our entire family gathered for the event. Relatives showed up from all over Colorado, Wyoming, and points west.” He chuckled.

  “Thanks, Mr. Chambers. I’ll put a note on my daytimer to call you in a couple of weeks, how’s that?”

  “That’s fine, Kelly. And please send my best wishes to your friend on the happy occasion. Oh, by the way . . . I had a call from another of your friends, the other day. Vera Wilcott, an older lady.”

  “Oh, yes, she’s a seamstress and helped make the bridesmaid dresses. She asked if I could recommend a good lawyer because she wanted to make a will. Naturally I gave her your name. Did she make an appointment?”

  “No, she didn’t, as a matter of fact. She simply asked me questions over the phone, but she never mentioned a will. She wanted to know about Colorado inheritance laws.”

  “Oh, really?” Kelly said, surprised by his reply.

  “Yes, it seems she’s concerned about her sister’s property. Apparently her sister was that poor unfortunate woman who was shot and killed outside the Presbyterian Church two weeks ago. Such a tragedy.”

 

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