Close Knit Killer

by Maggie Sefton

  * * *

  Kelly slid her right needle into the left side of a stitch on her left needle. Wrapping the yarn around the needle, she smoothly slid the stitch from the left needle onto the right in the familiar movement. Slip, wrap, slide. Slip, wrap, slide. More rows appeared on the circular needle. The yellow-and-white baby hat was three-quarters done. A few more rows, and she could start the crown of the hat. Narrowing toward the center point.

  “Well, I’m surprised the police haven’t found out who the killer is yet,” a middle-aged blond woman commented, breaking the last few minutes of tranquil silence. Her wheel turned slowly as she allowed the rose-colored yarn in her lap to move in the gap between her fingers and join the yarn twist on the wheel.

  “I imagine there are a lot of people they have to interview,” a gray-haired older woman answered. The pale blue yarn in her lap slid smoothly between her fingers and onto the wheel.

  Kelly glanced surreptitiously at Barbara, who sat mute as she drafted a pile of moss green yarn into batten for a younger brunette woman beside her. This woman’s wheel was still and only moved in fits and starts, Kelly had noticed. Still a beginner, the woman had not yet mastered the coordination of feet moving the treadles and yarn sliding between fingers and onto the turning wheel. A tricky maneuver, Kelly had observed. That was another reason Kelly admired spinners. There was no way she could possibly coordinate those treadle movements with her feet and the yarn movements with her fingers. Athletic as she was, Kelly gladly left the spinning to those gifted with that talent. She still had trouble knitting, for Pete’s sake!

  “Well, I certainly hope that the police questioned all those people who spoke out in the newspaper about how much harm Jared Rizzoli caused them. I mean, if police questioned Barbara, they certainly should be questioning those people!” the gray-haired woman said adamantly.

  “I agree, Ruth,” the blonde added. “I’ve heard countless stories over the years about that man, and all the financial disaster he caused. So, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if police are questioning all of the people interviewed by the newspaper.”

  “That’s probably why it’s taking so long,” the brunette said as she allowed the moss green batten to slide slowly between her fingers and onto the wheel. Her feet moved the treadles back and forth.

  “That’s it, Karen. Nice and easy does it,” Madge encouraged the younger woman, carefully watching her movements. “If you ask me, I think police should put more effort into finding that bunch of young thieves who’ve been attacking people in the shopping centers at night. Personally, I think they’re far more likely to commit violence than any of the other Fort Connor citizens who were victimized by the awful man.”

  Kelly recalled Mimi using a similar phrase to describe the late, departed Jared Rizzoli. Clearly, the former swindler would not be mourned in this city. But Kelly also recognized Madge’s subtle attempt to shift conversation away from getting too close to her daughter.

  “I agree, Madge,” another spinner spoke up. “I read that they attacked others in Fort Connor recently. One man reported that he’d been struck in his head and dragged from his late-model car so the thieves could steal it.”

  “I think it’s entirely possible those guys could be responsible for Rizzoli’s murder,” the brunette said. “I’d heard that they had assaulted a man and stole a car in the Big Box parking lot that very night. I’m hoping police find those guys soon and question them.”

  Kelly glanced at Barbara, who was focusing her attention on stretching the green yarn once more, turning it into batten or roving.

  Madge, however, looked over at Kelly and smiled. “Well, now. Mimi tells me that Kelly is Lambspun’s resident sleuth. So, I’m wondering what she thinks. Are you suspicious of those thieves, dear?”

  Taken by surprise at Madge’s comment, Kelly simply returned her focus to the baby hat, while she thought of something she could say to the spinners—without getting anyone into trouble. Including her.

  Fifteen

  “Hi, Cassie. I see Mimi’s put you to work again,” Kelly said as she rounded the corner into the main room of the knitting shop.

  Cassie looked up from the large cardboard box she was bent over. “Hi, Kelly. I saw these boxes stacked up in the other room and offered to unpack them. Mimi and Rosa are way too busy with customers.”

  Kelly noticed the two additional sealed boxes stacked on the floor beside Cassie’s chair. Setting her briefcase and coffee mug on the library table, Kelly watched Cassie remove several skeins of coral pink and lemon yellow yarns. “More yarn? Where in the world are you going to put them? The shelves are full in here now.”

  “I know, I filled them the other day,” Cassie said with a grin. “Mimi told me to make little stacks wherever I could find space. Then put the other two boxes in the basement.”

  “Mimi probably found a great sale somewhere and ordered ahead. What’s amazing is that all of that yarn will probably be sold in a year.” Kelly dug into her briefcase and removed the plastic bag containing the baby hat project.

  Cassie looked around the room, shelves stacked with yarns. “All this yarn will be sold? Wow!”

  “Well . . . not all of the yarns, but enough of them will sell so that there’s a regular turnover. I’ve watched Mimi’s schedule for a few years now. She changes the whole shop at least four times a year. For each new season. And then she’ll also bring in special yarns to spotlight, as she calls it.” Kelly leaned back in the wooden chair and sipped her coffee.

  “You’ve really been paying attention,” Cassie said, observing Kelly.

  Kelly smiled. “It’s the accountant in me. I can’t help it. By the way, Jennifer said you had a good time at Curt Stackhouse’s ranch last Saturday. Did all his grandkids and grandnieces and – nephews come, too? Jayleen says there a bunch of them.”

  Cassie’s face lit up. “Wow, there was a whole lot of kids there, that’s for sure. It was a blast! His ranch is huge!” Her hands spread wide. “But Curt let us go all over. The cattle were out in the pasture, so we stayed out of there. But he let some of us who were older go into the sheep pasture and pat the baby lambs that were born this spring. They’re so cute and fuzzy. I can’t believe we get all this yarn from those little guys. And then we went to the stables and saw the horses, and we even got to ride them! Curt and Jayleen took us out in little groups riding around the ranch. It was so much fun!”

  Kelly couldn’t help catching Cassie’s excitement. It was contagious. “I love Curt’s ranch. It’s so relaxing to go out there and just stare into the distance, open space on one side and the foothills on the other. It’s great. I’m so glad you got to go. Were any of the kids there your age?”

  “Oh, yeah. Curt’s grandson Eric is my age. He turned twelve in May and is going into seventh grade like me.”

  “What?” Kelly said, surprised. “I thought his daughter’s kids were all little.”

  Cassie shook her head. “Robbie, the youngest is five, but Tina is ten, and Eric’s twelve.”

  “Wow, that’s hard to believe. The last time I saw them was at a Christmas-tree decorating party at Curt’s farmhouse. His grandkids were there. Jayleen was there, and Mimi and Burt, and Lisa and Greg, Steve and me, and Megan. And . . .” Kelly stopped abruptly, her eyes popping wide as she remembered when that was. “Oh, my gosh! That was three and a half years ago! I can’t believe it. No wonder I thought the kids were still little.” Memories flooded her mind then. “Wow, that’s the first time we met Marty. And got to see Spot the Wonder Dog in action.” She laughed softly.

  “You’re kidding!” Cassie exclaimed. “Marty showed us Spot last weekend. He’s hilarious!” She giggled even louder.

  “Oh, yeah. We nearly killed ourselves laughing. All of us except Megan. She was furious at Marty because he was such a klutz he broke half of Curt’s glass Christmas tree ornaments.” Kelly laughed again. “Old Marty fell for Megan right away, but she couldn’t stand him. We were afraid Megan was gonna punch him, so St
eve and Greg took Marty into the other room to play Spot with the kids.”

  Cassie fell back into her chair, laughing. “That is hilarious!” she said when she could catch her breath.

  “Yeah, it kind of was,” Kelly admitted, reminiscing. “It was fun watching Marty slowly work his way into Megan’s good graces.”

  “He was in love with her already? Like love at first sight or something?” Cassie asked, clearly fascinated by this courtship tale.

  “Oh, yeah. especially after he tasted her blueberry pie. That sealed the deal for old Spot.”

  Cassie fell into another fit of laughter as Kelly sipped her coffee and let more memories dance through her head.

  * * *

  Kelly cruised slowly through the crowded parking lot at the business complex where client Arthur Housemann’s office was located. Seeing an empty parking space at last, she nosed her car into the spot. Her cell phone jangled as she turned off the engine.

  Burt’s name and number flashed on the phone’s screen. “Hey, Burt, how’re you doing? I’ve missed you the past couple of mornings when I’ve been at the shop.”

  “I’ve been swamped with errands, Kelly. Whoever said retirement meant relaxation was crazy. Either that, or they’d never been around a shop like Lambspun.” Burt’s chuckle sounded over the phone.

  “That’s the world of small businesses, Burt. I remember doing the accounting when I was interning with a small business during the summers at college. The guy operated three automobile service centers in northern Virginia, and he was running around nonstop all day.”

  “I feel his pain,” Burt joked. “Did I catch you mid-errands?”

  “Nope. I’m going to see Arthur Housemann and go over those May financial statements. He wants to run some project ideas past me so I can work up an analysis on each one.”

  “Whoa, analyze a project rather than just jumping feet-first into it. What a concept.”

  “Arthur is a man after my own heart.” Kelly turned the car’s power back on and sent the driver’s window down with a soft whirrrrr sound. “Jennifer told me you and Mimi took Cassie to Old Town on Sunday. I’ll bet you all had fun. Where’d you take her? Did you stop at Walrus for ice cream?”

  “You betcha. Mimi and I had a great time showing Cassie the sights, so to speak. Fort Connor may be a small town compared to Denver, but it’s certainly got its own charm. And it’s certainly easier to get around.”

  “I’m sure she enjoyed roaming around with you two. Since it looks like she will be living with Pete and Jennifer for the near future, this will become her town. And for all we know, maybe her grandfather didn’t take her sightseeing. Has she ever been into the mountains?”

  “You know, I asked her that, and Cassie said she’s never been. Now, that’s a shame. I can understand, because Ben apparently wasn’t in good shape, but to live in Colorado and not get into the mountains . . . That’s just sad. Mimi and I will definitely take her into the mountains, you can bet on it. That’s if Jennifer and Pete don’t mind.”

  Kelly settled back into her car seat, relaxing. She could tell experienced grandfather Burt would be eager to join grandmotherly Mimi in “grandparenting” Cassie. “I’m certain they will be happy to let Cassie take mountain trips with you two. In fact, Jen told me yesterday that she and Pete were so grateful that you and Mimi and Curt and Jayleen had been so gracious about spending time with Cassie. They appreciate it, believe me.”

  “Well, the pleasure is entirely ours, Kelly. And I mean that sincerely. Cassie is a sweet, smart, good-natured girl who’s interested in everything. So she’s great fun to take around. Clearly, she’d never been taken outside of Denver. She’s been all around the state capitol buildings and has been to all the city parks and lakes with her grandfather. Oh, and the aquarium and the planetarium and the amusement parks. So, she has seen those. Plus, I quizzed her on Colorado history and she’s got that down pat. In fact, she’s got a real interest in history. Ben apparently took her to all the history museums in Denver. Including Molly Brown. Cassie was fascinated with all the photos of the Titanic and Molly and her husband. So, we may take a little trip this summer down to Leadville and some of the other mining towns. She’s got a few gaps in American history, but she loves to read. So I gave her one of the books that I started my daughter with when she was in elementary school. It’s a little young for Cassie, but the author does a great job of covering every part of American history from the earliest beginnings to present day. Or, rather, a couple of decades ago.”

  Kelly smiled as she sat, listening to Burt ramble on about Cassie and history and museums and sightseeing trips. What a great grandfather he was. Burt sounded like the ideal grandfather to Kelly’s way of thinking. He was genuinely interested in Cassie, even her education. Jennifer and Pete didn’t know how lucky they were. Or . . . maybe they did.

  “Boy, Burt, Cassie is going to be one lucky kid to have you as a history teacher. I can sit and listen to you talk about history for hours. Whenever Steve and I come over for dinner, we love to hear you talk about the books you’ve read.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say, Kelly. And I confess, it is a joy to be able to talk about history to someone who’s interested in learning. That’s what I see in Cassie. That eagerness to learn. It’s wonderful.”

  “I wish some of my history teachers in high school had been as interesting as you, Burt. It was all I could do to stay awake in some of those classes.” Kelly made a snoring sound.

  Burt chuckled. “Listen, Kelly, I called to let you know what’s been happening in the investigation into Jared Rizzoli’s murder.”

  Kelly snapped out of relaxation mode. “Good. I heard yesterday that one of the detectives returned to ask more questions of Connie and Rosa. And Mimi told me what Rosa said. That was sad to hear.”

  “I know, Kelly. Barbara has moved closer behind Malcolm, from what I can tell. I saw her at the shop yesterday, and I swear, Barb is just a shadow of her former self. She’s quiet as a mouse now, and you know . . . Barb never was one to keep quiet before. I don’t know how to interpret her change in behavior. She acts ashamed. And that could mean many things.” Burt paused. “She may indeed have committed the murder. If so, it was in another moment of rage, no doubt.”

  Kelly still could not bring that picture into focus in her mind. “Still, Burt, no one saw Barbara anywhere near the shop or driveway the evening of the murder. I know it looks bad because she saw Hal Nelson’s toolbox and had to see the work knives. But there’s no proof she came back to Lambspun or spoke to Rizzoli again. And you said police couldn’t get any good prints off that old knife that was used.”

  “That’s true, Kelly. So far, the only person who’s been placed in the vicinity at the time of the murder is a disheveled man resembling Malcolm. But we may learn more today. Dan called me last night and told me that one of the temporary waitresses who worked in the café while Pete was gone gave police a lead. Doreen is her name, and she said that the same temp cook who filled in for Pete at the café works occasionally on Friday and Saturday nights at the brewery café across the street from the golf course and Lambspun. That café is also right across from the entrance to the driveway, so maybe this cook saw someone here that night. Dan said the detective would be going over to the brewery tonight before the guy’s shift starts.”

  Kelly brightened. “Excellent! Let’s hope Frank the cook saw something no one else did. I remember he seemed real interested in what the cops were doing that Saturday in the driveway and parking lot. He said he’d been keeping track of them out the window. Watching them. So, maybe he kept looking that night when he was working at the brewery.”

  “Maybe so, Kelly. And let’s hope Frank the cook saw someone else in that driveway with Jared Rizzoli. Someone other than Malcolm or Barbara.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed, Burt. Rizzoli’s car was parked right there in that section of the driveway, close to the entrance. It couldn’t be seen from the golf course, but I’ll bet the brew
ery café across the street had a good view.”

  “Let’s hope so, Kelly. Well, I’m at the Big Box, so I’d better hang up.”

  Kelly reached for her briefcase and opened her car door to exit. Time to return to business. “Keep me posted, Burt.”

  “Always.”

  * * *

  “Do you want any more iced coffee, Kelly?” Julie asked as she wiped off the patio café table.

  “I’d love some, Julie. Thanks.” Kelly looked up from her spreadsheets on the laptop computer screen.

  “We’re going to be closing soon, so I could fill a small pitcher with iced coffee for you if you’re going to be working out here for a while.”

  “Oh, what a doll you are.” Kelly smiled. “And put a double tip on my bill, okay? Don’t argue with me.”

  Julie’s face spread with a grin. “Kelly, we all know better than to argue with you. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Huge cottonwood trees shading the back stucco wall and the entire section of the garden kept the afternoon heat down.

  “Well, well, Kelly-girl! I’m glad I ran into you.” Curt’s voice came from the side. She looked up to see the tall, broad-shouldered, silver-haired Colorado rancher stride along the flagstone pathway toward her.

  “Hey, there, Curt,” she greeted her mentor and advisor on all things ranching-related. “I haven’t seen you for a while. Have a seat and join me in a glass of iced coffee.”

  “Don’t mind if I do,” he said as he pulled out the wrought-iron café chair across the round table from Kelly. “I’ve been busier than usual taking some visitors out to check property northeast of here. They’re looking to buy some land.”

  Kelly looked out toward the golf course, golfers enjoying the sunny June afternoon. “That reminds me. I was thinking I might take a daytrip up to Wyoming and check out the properties. I haven’t been in six months.”