Knit, Purl, Die

by Anne Canadeo

  “Yeah, we are,” Lucy admitted.

  “It was a sad way to go,” Edie acknowledged. “No matter how you felt about the woman, dying in a freak accident like that, sort of a waste. How is her husband?”

  “He’s struggling,” Lucy replied.

  She wasn’t sure how much she ought to tell Edie about Jamie’s emotional struggles and his financial ones, but she did feel Edie had the entirely wrong impression about Gloria and Jamie’s relationship. Maybe it would be enlightening to her to hear that Jamie sincerely mourned Gloria, and didn’t seem to care about her fortune. Or what would be left of it.

  “Yeah, it’s always rough to lose someone close,” Edie conceded. “Part of life, I guess. He’s young. He’ll get over it,” she added.

  Someday maybe. But not that quickly, Lucy thought.

  “The money must be some consolation,” Edie said bluntly.

  “It might be … if there’s any left after her debts are settled.” Lucy hadn’t meant to disclose that information, especially to Edie, who was more efficient at spreading news than a CNN correspondent. In Plum Harbor anyway.

  Lucy did take some small satisfaction in the shocked expression on Edie’s wrinkled face. “Money’s all gone, too? That’s a surprise. That woman was living high on thin air, I guess. A real magic act.”

  “I guess so,” Lucy had to agree. There was a touch of magic in Gloria, anyone could see that.

  “Well, I’d better get moving. Tink’s tongue is dragging on the sidewalk. I think she needs this water.”

  “Sure, hon. You take care,” Edie said in a somewhat warmer manner than usual. Feeling guilty for casting aspersions at Gloria just before she died, perhaps?

  Lucy picked up her drinks and Tink’s bowl.

  “You too, Edie.” She dropped some crumpled bills by the register and Edie nodded at her.

  Tink was so happy to see her back, she jumped up on her hind legs, nearly giving Lucy a bath in the water and iced coffee.

  Lucy set the plastic bowl down and let her drink. When the bowl was empty, Lucy untied the dog’s leash and started down Main Street toward the Black Sheep. Tink had taken to the bowl and carried it easily in her mouth as they walked down the street. Lucy didn’t even notice.

  She tied the dog on the knitting shop porch and went inside. Dana and Suzanne were there, sitting at the work table in back, while Maggie roamed the shop, collecting items for her Saturday morning beginners’ class.

  Dana wore her slim-fitting yoga clothes and a certain Zen glow that indicated she’d come straight from the Nirvana Studio. Suzanne brandished her large, I-mean-business real estate lady earrings and a crisp white shirt under a red linen blazer. She was checking her BlackBerry, probably en route to an open house or meeting clients.

  They were talking about their meeting last night with Jamie’s private investigator. Lucy walked in and sat down at the table by Suzanne.

  “I felt a lot better after we vented to him,” Suzanne confessed. “He seems to know what he’s doing.”

  “Has anyone spoken to Jamie? I’m sure he wants to know how it went with Dolan,” Maggie said.

  “He’s going into Boston today. He might have already left,” Suzanne said. “I was supposed to go over there to look through some tax records with him. But he called late last night, after you guys had left. He had to meet the gallery owner today to talk about postponing the show. I guess that’s pretty important, too,” Suzanne added.

  “At least it sounds as if he’s going through with it,” Dana said. “That’s a good sign.”

  “Yes, it is,” Lucy agreed.

  It did sound like Jamie was going through with the show, which Lucy found a positive note in an otherwise bleak landscape. Maybe Maggie’s encouragement had helped him.

  “Gloria would be happy,” Maggie said simply. They all knew that was true.

  The shop phone rang and Maggie answered it. Lucy could tell it was Phoebe on the line, explaining that she was running a little late this morning. “All right, I understand. There’s a class starting in an hour. Just get here before then,” Maggie said, then hung up the phone again.

  “Jamie had some more bad news yesterday from Lewis,” Suzanne told her friends. “Looks like the estate is insolvent. Once all the debts are paid off, there won’t be a dime left.”

  That was bad news, though not totally unexpected, Lucy realized.

  “Poor Jamie. He’s really got a lot on his plate. Is he responsible for any debts that the estate can’t cover?” Maggie asked.

  “No, he’s not, thank goodness,” Suzanne said as she took out her knitting. “He still has the house, free and clear, and I helped him apply for a line of credit against it. He should hear back from the bank soon about that. If he hasn’t heard already,” she noted.

  “I don’t know how he’s going to make it without that loan,” Dana said, “unless he gets a job.”

  “If he can hang on until his show, he might be able to earn a living from his paintings,” Lucy suggested hopefully.

  Maggie glanced at her and offered a small smile. “Yes, let’s hope so. I’m glad he’s meeting with the gallery owner this weekend. He has to get on with his life, especially his work. Gloria would have wanted him to keep moving forward.”

  The bell above the shop door rang. It was still too early for customers on a Saturday and Lucy looked over to see who it could be.

  A woman they all recognized walked in. Detective Marisol Reyes, from the Essex County Police. Detective Reyes had worked with Detective Walsh on Amanda Goran’s murder investigation, but Walsh was not with her right now, thank goodness. She was alone.

  Maggie looked at her friends with alarm, then rose quickly to meet the unexpected visitor.

  “Detective Reyes … what a surprise.” Maggie walked to the middle of the shop, where the detective stood by the counter.

  “Hello, Mrs. Messina. I’m glad to find you in,” Detective Reyes began politely. “I wondered if you could help me out this morning with some information?”

  “Information? I will if I can …” Maggie offered. Lucy heard her voice trail off on a shaky note.

  “This is a difficult story to relate. The body of a young woman was found late last night, on the side of the road, near Plum Beach. The police are trying to determine her identity. She appears to be in her twenties …” Detective Reyes paused and reached into her purse again and pulled out a small pad. “Long black hair, blue eyes, though she wore contacts that made them look darker,” she added. “Medium height, thin build. Several tattoos.” She read from the pad, then looked up at them. “There was one on her shoulder. A skull and a rose with the word ‘dad’ written underneath.”

  “Dad? I thought it said, ‘bad,’” Lucy blurted out.

  Detective Reyes looked confused. Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know who this girl is?”

  “We all do.” Lucy looked over at her friends, her gaze finally resting on Maggie.

  “Her name is Crystal,” Maggie continued. “She’s been hanging around here a lot lately. She’s friends with my helper, Phoebe. Maybe you remember her.”

  “I do remember Phoebe,” Detective Reyes replied.

  “What made you come here?” Suzanne asked the detective.

  “The victim had nothing on her. No ID of any kind. But we found something in her pocket …” She opened her neat leather shoulder bag and took out a plastic bag that appeared to hold a folded sheet of pale yellow paper.

  “I can’t remove this from the bag. It’s evidence in the investigation,” Detective Reyes explained. “But you can see that it has the name of your shop on the top and the logo. So we assumed the victim had come here recently.”

  Maggie looked closer and gasped, covering her hand with her mouth. “Oh dear … I think I need to sit down a minute … I’m sorry …”

  Detective Reyes reached out to support Maggie’s arm. Dana stood nearest. She jumped up and caught Maggie on the other side. Then they helped her over to a chair at the table.
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br />   “I can look now, it’s okay,” Maggie said after a moment.

  The police officer handed down the baggie again and Maggie looked at one side and then the other. Then she handed it back to her. “Yes, that definitely belonged to Crystal.”

  “What is this piece of paper exactly?” the detective asked, curious.

  “It’s a handout I give to beginner students. It has the basics, casting on, and the knit, purl stitches. With a few simple diagrams.” Maggie sighed, unable to say more.

  “And how can you be so sure that this one belonged to her?”

  “She was working on a project with us. Simple squares for a blanket. I didn’t have the pattern handy, so I just wrote it down for her on the bottom of the sheet. See, right here.” Maggie pointed at a spot under the plastic.

  “Yes, I noticed that.” Detective Reyes nodded. “I wasn’t sure, though, if she had written it or someone else had.”

  “Phoebe will be able to tell you more about her. Her last name. Where she lives and all that. She should be here very soon. She just called to tell me that she’s running late …”

  Maggie’s voice trailed off. Lucy felt her stomach clench in a pile of knots. She stared around at her friends, who also looked shocked at the news. Two deaths in Plum Harbor within a few weeks was hard to take in.

  “That would be very helpful,” Detective Reyes said. “Could you give her a call on a cell phone and see if she’s close by?” The detective checked her watch. “If it’s going to be much longer, I’ll come back.”

  “I’ll call her,” Dana offered. Maggie cast a grateful look in her direction, then she turned back to Detective Reyes.

  “So, Crystal is dead?” Maggie asked quietly.

  “I’m afraid so. We don’t now very much right now.”

  What horrible news. Phoebe was going to be so upset, Lucy thought.

  Dana had reached Phoebe and hung up. “She’s just parking her car. She’ll be right in.”

  Lucy glanced at Suzanne. Her complexion looked as pale as her white shirt. They waited without saying a word. Only Phoebe had been close to Crystal, but they had all spent time with her and even welcomed her into their circle. News of her death—a violent death at that—was shocking and disturbing. Lucy could tell her friends felt the same.

  A few moments later, Lucy heard Tink give a few sharp barks. Her happy hello bark. The dog loved Phoebe, who always gave her loads of attention.

  “That’s just my dog,” Lucy explained. “Phoebe likes to pet her. This could take a while.”

  Detective Reyes waited, then turned to face the door. She was medium height, but stood very tall with perfect posture. Her long dark hair was held back in a tight ponytail, her complexion free of makeup. Her conservative outfit, a tan jacket and blue pants, was very professional and dignified. Just what you’d expect a female detective to look like, Lucy thought.

  Finally the door opened and Phoebe walked in.

  “Hey, Mag. I made it.”

  Phoebe took a few steps into the shop, then stood staring at everyone. A knapsack was slung over her shoulder and she put it down on the floor by her feet.

  “What’s going on? You all look so bummed.”

  “Hello, Phoebe. Detective Reyes, remember me?”

  Phoebe suddenly noticed the detective, who walked toward her from the back of the shop.

  “Sure. How are you?” Phoebe looked confused and hooked a thick lock of hair behind her ear, exposing a row of piercings. “What’s up?”

  “I’m afraid that I have some bad news for you, Phoebe,” Detective Reyes said simply.

  The detective related the gruesome story. “We found some evidence on her person that is leading me to believe she’s a friend of yours, someone named Crystal?”

  Phoebe nodded numbly. Lucy saw her eyes immediately fill with tears. “You did? But … how? Are you really sure?”

  “We’re never absolutely positive until the next of kin identifies the body. Without knowing her identity we haven’t gotten to that stage yet. If you can sit with me a minute and answer some questions, maybe we can find her family.”

  Phoebe nodded. Tears that had melted her eye makeup slid down her cheeks in two tiny black streams.

  “We had plans last night, and she never showed up. I left a message on her cell. But I didn’t think anything was wrong. I thought maybe she was seeing her boyfriend and just blew me off.”

  “She has a boyfriend?” Detective Reyes asked.

  Phoebe nodded bleakly. “I know there was some guy she was seeing. He lives around here. I never met him, though. Crystal said he was with someone else and she was sort of on the side. She told me that they were having some problems, arguing a lot. Then a few days ago, she said things were working out and they were going to get together soon.”

  “Interesting. That could be helpful.” Detective Reyes rested a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s sit down over here and talk a minute.”

  Then she led Phoebe to a quiet spot in the front of the shop, where they sat in two overstuffed armchairs. The detective took out her notebook again and began to ask Phoebe questions about Crystal and their friendship.

  Lucy and her friends waited at the big table. “Poor kid,” Suzanne said finally. “Both of them, I mean.”

  “What devastating news. How awful for her parents,” Dana said. “Did she grow up around here?”

  Maggie shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

  “Phoebe probably knows,” Lucy said.

  “What a nightmare.” Maggie gave out a long sigh. “This is just too much. I don’t think I can function after this news.”

  “Are you going to close the shop?” Lucy asked.

  Maggie considered the question, then glanced at Phoebe, who still sat with Detective Reyes. “No, I won’t close, but I’ll cancel the class. Phoebe needs the day off.”

  Maggie found some paper and a marker on the sideboard near the table. She quickly made a sign canceling the class, then went out a moment and posted it on the front door.

  By the time she came back in, Detective Reyes and Phoebe had finished talking. They walked back and joined the others.

  “I’m sorry to have brought you this news. I appreciate everyone’s help this morning.” Detective Reyes adjusted the leather strap of the bag on her shoulder.

  Lucy realized she must be armed and wondered where she carried her gun. Not in her handbag, of course. Her loose jacket hid any sign of a shoulder holster.

  The women said good-bye to Detective Reyes and she walked out the shop’s front door. Lucy noticed two women had strolled up to the porch, but after they read the sign Maggie had posted, they left again.

  “You must be very upset now about Crystal, Phoebe, you take the day off.” Maggie reached out and tenderly brushed a strand of Phoebe’s hair off her cheek.

  Phoebe sighed, her head sagging. “I am. But I don’t think I want to be alone all day. I’d rather be hanging out here. At least if I work I’ll be distracted a little.”

  “Whatever you want, Phoebe.” Maggie’s tone was comforting. “Maybe you should call Josh and see if he’ll come by and keep you company,” she suggested. “He knew Crystal, too. Didn’t he?”

  “A little. She came to his gigs and we all hung out together a few times. Guess I’ll call in a little while. I don’t want to wake him up and freak him out with bad news.”

  “What else did Detective Reyes say?” Dana asked Phoebe.

  “Not much more than she told you. She’ll get back in touch once she gets in touch with Crystal’s family. I told her I wanted to know what happens.”

  “Yes, I guess we all do,” Maggie said.

  A short time later, Dana, Suzanne, and Lucy left the shop to go their separate ways.

  As Lucy walked home with Tink, she could only think of Crystal, who had seemed a little lost and scared, but had so much of her life ahead to figure things out. Her death seemed another cruel waste. It was unsettling to have two people she had recently met die
within a short time of each other. Not her usual carefree summer.

  Lucy kept herself busy for the rest of the day, finally taking on the flower beds in the backyard. Wearing a pair of old shorts and a T-shirt she reserved for house cleaning, she attacked the weeds and straggling branches that had sprouted in all directions, choking out the flowering plants. It was hot, dirty work but satisfying to see the fresh, moist earth of the beds clear of weeds and the blooming stems come to the fore.

  She worked outside for several hours, taking breaks to sit under the umbrella on her patio and sip glasses of ice water, occasionally splashing the cold water on her face and head, even down her shirt. Matt was busy in his office until 5:00 and they’d planned to meet in town for dinner and a movie around 7:00.

  Lucy figured she’d quit her yard work in the late afternoon, leaving time to rest and get ready. She could feel grains of dirt imbedded in her kneecaps and wondered how long and hard she’d have to scrub to get that out. But it was only about 2:00 when she heard the phone ring. She had the handset handy on the outside table and ran over to catch the call.

  “Lucy? It’s me,” Dana began. “I just heard some shocking news about … about Crystal. It’s pretty unbelievable.”

  “Did the police find her family?” Lucy asked.

  “No … they can’t find anyone. But they did go to her apartment and searched her belongings. Jack was down at the station today, to catch up with somebody about another case,” Dana explained, “and he heard the whole story.”

  Jack had a lot of connections in the local police department, with both the village and county officers. The police, Lucy had come to see, were a tight-knit bunch, and loyal to their own. They clearly considered Jack part of the club and were pretty free in conversation with him.

  “It turns out that her name isn’t really Crystal Warren,” Dana continued. “It’s Christine. Christine Thurman.”

  “Thurman? You mean George Thurman’s … daughter?” Lucy was shocked and dropped down in a chair.

  “That’s right. The cute little girl who left town at five years old came back. And no one recognized her,” Dana added.

  How could they? Lucy recalled the photograph she’d seen the night before Gloria’s memorial, the one that showed George, Gloria, and George’s little girl, Christine. Well, Crystal to them. A sweet-looking, fairhaired sprite, with bright blue eyes and a sunny smile. Nothing like the tattoo-covered Goth who’d insinuated herself into their circle.