Close Knit Killer

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Close Knit Killer Page 11

by Maggie Sefton


  Geller diligently recorded it all in his notebook. “Then what?”

  “Rizzoli stomped off to his car, and drove away. Hal Nelson and I helped Malcolm into the café for some coffee and food. He looked pretty shaken up.”

  “I see.” Geller scribbled some more, then flipped his notebook closed. “Thank you, Ms. Flynn. You’ve been really helpful. If we have any more questions, we’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m glad I was able to help, Detective Lasky,” Kelly dutifully answered. But she wasn’t telling the truth. She felt awful. Her words made Malcolm out to be a prime suspect in the murder of Jared Rizzoli.

  “It was nice meeting you both. Have a good day,” Lasky said as he walked back toward the café.

  Burt stared after him. “You did the right thing, Kelly. You know you did.”

  “Yeah, I know. I just wish I didn’t feel so bad.”

  Ten

  Kelly pulled open the front door to the café and stepped inside. She took a deep breath, inhaling the heavenly breakfast aromas filling the air. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, spicy sausage sizzling on the grill, omelets stuffed full of veggies and oozing yummy cheese, rich gravy and biscuits, Pete’s special salsa, huevos rancheros, and more bacon.

  Breakfast. Kelly’s favorite meal. And no one did breakfast like cook Eduardo. Master of the grill. She inhaled another scent. Ooooh, was that cinnamon? Pete had been baking his cinnamon rolls again! Okay, that settled it. She had to have breakfast. Again. Her early yogurt and fruit just didn’t cut it when faced with heartier breakfasts. No contest.

  She spied a small table along the windows near the grill and headed that way. “Pete’s been baking again. I can smell those cinnamon rolls,” she called to Jennifer as she dropped her briefcase on the opposite chair and took a seat.

  “Ohhhh, yes,” Jennifer replied as she walked over, coffeepot in hand. “I take it you’ll want one or two?”

  “Absolutely. And bring a slice of fresh melon, too. That way I can fool myself into thinking I’m eating healthy.”

  “Gotcha.” Jennifer poured a black stream into Kelly’s cup. “Let me refill your mug. It’s probably empty.” Jennifer reached into Kelly’s briefcase and pulled out the oversized mug, refilled it, then returned it to Kelly. “Oh, Cassie said to tell you she’d like to check out that softball clinic you’re teaching. She actually looked kind of interested.”

  Kelly sniffed the strong aroma. Ahhhh. “That’s great. Let’s see if she likes it.” She smiled up at Jennifer. “I got to talk to her a little at the knitting table yesterday. She’s a cute kid. She worried that she might not be very good at softball. I told her that nobody was going to be any good because they were all beginners. And they’re all her age.”

  “Thank you for doing that, Kelly. You’re a sweetheart. You and Mimi both did a lot to make her feel comfortable yesterday. Of course, Cassie was entranced by the shop and all the yarns. She’d never seen anything like that, she said. And of course, Mother Mimi had her knitting a scarf in no time.” She laughed softly.

  “Oh, yeah, I saw Mother Mimi in action. She is loving every minute of this.” Kelly took a sip. “Burt told me that Mimi had spent all morning with Cassie.”

  “I know, and you came in. Then Megan dropped by in the afternoon, Mimi said.”

  “Perfect. Were they at the knitting table?”

  “I was at the real estate office, but Pete said Megan was showing Cassie something with the yarn when he came in there.”

  Kelly caught Jennifer’s eye. “Sounds good. Tell me, how’s she settling in at the house? It’s only been a couple of days.”

  “Cassie’s been doing great. We’re all getting used to the house, so we’re adjusting together.” Jennifer laughed. “This house is even bigger than Ben’s in Denver. Cassie’s room was tiny there, so she’s crazy about this bedroom. Pete promised her they could bring the rest of her books up here. I’m hoping Steve wouldn’t mind swinging by Ben’s one night and bringing up the bookcase in his truck. Pete could drive down and meet him.”

  “I’m sure Steve wouldn’t mind. He told me he felt bad about not being able to do anything with Cassie because he’s working in Denver.”

  Jennifer gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t be silly. Cassie’s sleeping on Steve’s extra furniture and bed linens. He’s done a lot. Tell him I said that, too. I’d better get this to the grill or you won’t eat. Are you gonna work here this morning?”

  “Just until I have to leave for the softball fields. Tell Cassie I’ll come into the shop when it’s time to go. What’s she up to? Knitting with Mimi again?”

  “Actually, Mimi handed her off to Burt this morning. He’s showing Cassie the spinning wheel. I’ll be back with your cinnamon roll in a minute.” Jennifer hurried off toward the grill.

  Kelly pulled her laptop out of her briefcase and started it up, waiting for the familiar soft whirring noise. Circuits firing, getting ready. Spreadsheets and expense accounts were easier with a yummy, buttery cinnamon roll. Heck, everything was better with a cinnamon roll.

  * * *

  Kelly looked up from the yellow-and-white yarn on her needles. Several more rows had appeared now. “Why, hello, Madge,” Kelly greeted the elderly spinner when she walked into the front room, empty now of customers. “Are you here to help Burt with his spinning class?”

  “Hello, there, Kelly.” Madge’s thin face brightened with a smile. “I’ll be teaching Burt’s class again. It looks like he’s giving a private lesson in the little alcove.”

  Kelly grinned. “Oh, that’s Cassie. She’s Pete’s niece from Denver. Burt’s simply explaining the wheel to her. She’ll be living with Pete and Jennifer this summer while her grandfather recovers from heart surgery.”

  “Ohhhh, yes. I heard about that,” Madge said, her expression saddening quickly. “She looks like a sweet girl. She was certainly paying attention. Watching Burt’s fingers. Watching the yarn.” Madge nodded. “Paying attention is the most important thing.”

  “She pays attention, all right. I took her to a softball clinic I’m teaching this summer for Parks and Recreation. We had a bunch of twelve-year-old girls. And Cassie really paid attention. I noticed her watching me intently and the other girls. And she did pretty well for a beginner. Her throws got better and better over the hour and a half. And her catches were great.” Kelly looked up from the baby hat. “That’s where paying attention pays off. You have to watch the ball all the way into the glove, if that makes any sense.”

  Madge smiled again. “Actually, it does, Kelly. I used to watch my husband play baseball years and years ago. And he played catcher a lot. Keep your eye on the ball, he used to say.” She glanced out the window.

  Madge’s poignant recollection brought back a more recent memory. “How’s Barbara doing? I haven’t seen her since last week. Is she all right, Madge?”

  Madge let out a sigh. “Yes, she’s all right. Thank the Lord. And I pray she stays all right. That horrible man upset her so last week. And she was settling down after . . . well, after the weekend.”

  Kelly read between Madge’s words. Clearly, Madge meant after Rizzoli died. “I’m glad to hear Barbara’s doing okay.”

  “She was doing okay until yesterday,” Madge said, mouth pinched in a frown. “When those police detectives came to our house asking questions. Arrived right as I was cooking dinner, too.”

  Uh-oh. Kelly had wondered when the police would question Barbara. Surely they’d had reports of her earlier confrontation with Rizzoli. Malcolm wasn’t the only one to have an angry run-in with the swindler. And surely the police had heard from the hotel security guards who escorted Barbara away from Rizzoli’s public seminar. Of course detectives showed up at Barbara’s door.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Madge,” Kelly tried to console. “I’m sure they were simply following up on reports of Barbara’s argument with Rizzoli outside in the garden last week.”

  Madge’s mouth pinched more. “Yes, of course. They asked all so
rts of questions about that. And then they asked even more questions about that evening. When Barbara went to that awful man’s seminar.” She wagged her head. “Why, oh, why, did she do that? That horrible man would never admit to any wrongdoing! Certainly not in public. And now poor Barbara has the police investigating her. It’s simply too terrible to think about.”

  Kelly sought something comforting to say, but found nothing. Barbara had done exactly what Madge said. Naturally, the police would be questioning her. Just as they had Malcolm yesterday. But surely Barbara had not gone off on a bender like Malcolm. Not steady, dependable Barbara.

  “I’m so sorry, Madge. You’re right. It is simply terrible to think about. But surely Barbara could tell police where she was the night Rizzoli was killed. That way she wouldn’t be considered a suspect. Not like the poor man who works outside on the remodeling. He had no explanation for his whereabouts that night.”

  Madge looked over at Kelly. “I hate to say this, Kelly. But my poor Barbara doesn’t have a very good explanation for her whereabouts that night, either.”

  That comment took Kelly by surprise. She stared at Madge. “What do you mean? Did Barbara go out that evening?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid she did. And she didn’t return until later that evening. I asked her where she’d been, and she said she drove up into the canyon. She needed to think.” Madge’s worried expression increased.

  Kelly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Solid, dependable Barbara had chosen that evening to drive into the canyon to think. The evening that Jared Rizzoli was killed. What the heck? “Oh, no! That means she has no alibi, no explanation for her whereabouts when Rizzoli was killed.”

  Madge sat on the edge of the wooden chair at the winding table and stared at her hands in her lap. “I’m simply heartsick about it, Kelly. Of all the times to drive up into the canyon to think.” She wagged her head.

  “Did the detectives ask Barbara where she was that evening?”

  Madge nodded. “Of course. And naturally, Barbara had to tell them she was driving in the canyon. One detective wrote down everything in his little notebook. The other detective kept staring at Barbara. Poor thing, she started to mix up her words when she tried to explain. I’m so concerned that the police will think Barbara had something to do with that awful man’s death.”

  Kelly reached over and placed her hand on Madge’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Madge. I’m sure there will be a way to prove Barbara’s innocence.” Kelly wasn’t at all sure; in fact, she doubted what she was saying. But she had no other comforting words to tell Madge.

  Madge looked into Kelly’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”

  Kelly swallowed. “I—I hope so, Madge,” was all she could say. “I really hope so. I cannot see Barbara killing Rizzoli. I just can’t.”

  Barbara gave a firm nod. “Well, I know she didn’t do it. I know my daughter.”

  Spoken like a loyal, devoted mother, Kelly thought. “You’re right, Madge.”

  Rosa walked into the front room then, several skeins of royal blue yarn in her hands. “Hey, Madge, hey, Kelly. How’re you doing?” She dumped the skeins on the yarn winding table. “Oh, Madge, a couple of your spinning students arrived early. They’re already in the classroom.”

  Madge glanced at her watch. “Well, now, I should go over then and see if they have any questions before class. They probably will. All beginners do. That’s how we learn.” She rose from the chair, taking her oversized yarn bag with her. “Take care, Kelly. I’ll tell Barbara you asked about her.”

  “Tell her we’ve missed seeing her here at the shop. Of course, I know she’s busy at the doctor’s office.”

  Kelly watched Madge leave the room, then glanced back at Rosa, who was loosening some of the yarn skeins, then placed the wide loop over the yarn holders on the winding table.

  “How I wish Barbara had chosen a private place to have an argument with Jared Rizzoli,” Kelly said. “Now police are investigating her like they are poor Malcolm.” She pointed outside the window where she saw Hal Nelson and Malcolm lifting another large sheet of fiberboard off the sawhorses.

  Rosa turned to Kelly with an astonished expression. “Oh, surely not! How could they possibly think she would kill that swindler?”

  “They have to investigate everyone who had a conflict with him, and we all know that Barbara’s conflict was very public. Lots of witnesses.”

  “Well, then they’ll have to question all those people who were interviewed in the newspaper this morning. Did you see that article? Several people Rizzoli swindled were interviewed, and they all said they were glad he was dead. Police better check them out, too, if they’re going to check out Barbara.” She pulled out a long twist of blue yarn and attached it to the spindle of the ball winder on the other end of the table. Then she began slowly turning the handle of the ball winder. Slowly, the yarn began to wind around and around the spindle as the loop yarn holder released more yarn to fill the spindle of the ball winder.

  “I hope you’re right, Rosa. I certainly don’t want Barbara and Malcolm to be the only suspects police have.” She noticed a familiar truck come down the driveway. A blond driver. Jayleen. The truck pulled into a space near the remodeled building, and Jayleen stepped out.

  “Oh, good, Jayleen’s here. I called her this morning to let her know those alpaca fleeces have been spun and dyed and are ready for her to pick up,” Rosa said, looking out the window.

  Kelly watched Jayleen talk with Nelson and Malcolm outside. Catching up on what had been happening, no doubt. Kelly wondered whether Jayleen was one of those counselors Nelson mentioned who were called to come to the Mission last Saturday. Kelly thought about how disappointing it must have been for Jayleen and the others when they watched people who had struggled and worked so hard to escape the pull of alcohol dependence . . . only to see them slide back into its grip again.

  Jayleen turned away from the two men and started walking toward the shop. Kelly placed her halfway-finished baby hat on the upholstered chair arm and left her cozy knitting spot in the corner, hastening to the front door to meet Jayleen. She wanted to get her reactions to Malcolm’s lapse over the weekend.

  Kelly pushed open the front door and Jayleen quickly stepped back, out of the way. “Whoa, Kelly-girl, I was just heading inside to meet you.”

  “I saw you talking with Hal and Malcolm, so I thought I’d meet you here. That way we’ll have a little privacy.”

  “Good idea,” Jayleen said, walking over to the recessed seating area located near the front entrance. “Why don’t we take advantage of this break in the heat and talk out here.” She pulled out a wrought-iron chair next to the patio table.

  Kelly followed suit. “Hal told me about what happened to Malcolm over the weekend. He decided to fall off the wagon, right?”

  Jayleen nodded her head. “That’s about it,” she said sadly.

  “Apparently some guy found him Saturday morning along the trail, and took him to the Mission. Were you one of the counselors they called?”

  “Yes, I was. Jerry and I had counseled Malcolm and sponsored him at AA meetings. So we came in and helped him pick up the pieces. Start all over again.” She gave Kelly a rueful smile. “We all fall back or slip up along the journey. But there’s help available. We took Malcolm to an AA meeting that afternoon. After we got him all cleaned up and some food inside, he started to come back to himself.”

  “Wow, Jayleen, you guys really do make a huge difference. Malcolm was lucky to have you.”

  “It’s not us, Kelly. It’s AA that makes the difference. We simply show up in these folks’ lives to let them know they’re not alone. We’re walking the same path they are. Every day we don’t take a drink is a gift. And we know it. And believe me, it feels good to give back because someone was there to help us when we needed it.”

  Kelly looked out toward the remodeling project and saw Malcolm carry two lengths of wood from Nelson’s truck into the structure. “I was here yesterday when the
cops came to talk to Malcolm. Bless Hal Nelson’s heart. He stood right next to Malcolm the entire time. I watched as they questioned him. Poor guy. He looked like he wanted to run off to the river trail again. But he didn’t. He stood there and answered their questions.”

  “Good thing. Malcolm knows he made a bad decision the other night. Now he’s having to face the consequences. Police consider him a suspect. I already talked to one of the detectives, so I can tell they consider Malcolm a suspect. They’d be crazy not to. He was seen arguing with Rizzoli in front of a whole passel of witnesses. Then he goes off drinking the night Rizzoli is killed. No alibi.” Jayleen shook her head. “Bad decisions will get us every time.”

  Kelly looked at her friend. “Well, Malcolm’s not the only one who’s gotten on the cops’ radar screen. You know Barbara, the one who helps Mimi by teaching knitting classes? She also had a public confrontation with Rizzoli the day before Malcolm did. She was right out here in front of all the lunch-hour customers.”

  Jayleen screwed up her face. “Are you talking about Big Barb, the nurse over at Doc Garcia’s office?”

  Big Barb. Kelly laughed at that. “One and the same. She’s always been steady and dependable until the other day. Her family lost everything in that Rizzoli swindle. And Barb chose that day to tell Rizzoli off. Not just once, here in the patio, but twice. She also went to his seminar that night and did it again. I was told she was escorted out by security guards.”

  Jayleen’s big blue eyes popped wide. “Lordy, Lordy! What on earth got into Big Barb? Sounds like she kind of lost it.”

  “You might say that. Her mother, Madge, told me Barb went driving up into the canyon the night Rizzoli was killed. So, just like Malcolm, she has no alibi.”

  Jayleen let out a low whistle. “What was she thinking? I can’t believe it. Both Barb and Malcolm are now suspects. Lord-a-mighty! I’m afraid to ask what else has happened since I drove in from the canyon.”

 

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