“Oh yeah,” Megan mused. “That was Geri Norbert who was about to lose her ranch. She killed Vickie Claymore, if I remember correctly. Geri was also a weaver, but she designed handwoven rugs.”
“Then I remembered one of those dramatic events that you found yourself in,” Jennifer said. “It involved that talented fiber artist Allison Dubois. That was Number Three.”
“And the killer was Murderer Number Three,” Cassie added.
“Yes, Murderer Number Three killed Allison Dubois by putting an overdose of sleeping pills in one of Allison’s favorite flavored coffee shop drinks.” Megan exhaled a long breath. “And Jennifer is right. I was the one who walked into Allison’s apartment here in Fort Connor and found her lying dead on the floor. I will never forget it. The apartment was almost empty. Packing boxes were stacked up and ready to ship. Allison’s suitcases were sitting there ready to go, and there was Allison with a spilled cup of coffee lying next to her.”
“A flavored coffee shop drink,” Cassie mused out loud. “That is really, really evil. Nobody thinks twice about drinking one of those coffees.”
Megan nodded. “That’s exactly right. That’s why it’s such an effective and easy way to poison someone. One or two sleeping pills won’t hurt anyone; the person will simply fall asleep, and apparently Allison had a prescription for sleeping pills in her bathroom cabinet already. She’d told other friends that she often had trouble sleeping. The problem comes if someone either deliberately or accidentally puts a handful of sleeping pills into a sugary sweet coffee drink. No one will taste the extra pills. Meanwhile, the sleeping pills will gradually slow down the person’s breathing until it gets so slow, it stops. That’s when the person dies.” Megan reached for her take-out cup of coffee and took another sip.
“Whoa . . .” Cassie said. “Who was it, then? Or did police think Allison committed suicide?”
“They did at first,” Megan said. “But Kelly and I both insisted that Allison had everything to live for. Her fiber weaving had won her a national prize, and she was moving to New York City to join an artists’ studio. Her dreams had all come true. There was no way Allison would commit suicide. So sad.”
“I still remember how annoyed that police detective was,” Jennifer remarked. “Detective Morrison, I think it was.”
“Yes. It was Morrison. Detective Morrison with the mustache,” Megan teased.
“Oh yes, and I remember how aggravated he got when Kelly started asking him all sorts of questions. His mustache started to twitch.”
“Kelly was convinced Detective Morrison didn’t like her, so she would deliberately ask him more questions. Everything that pertained to the murder.”
“Did that Detective Morrison figure out who killed Allison Dubois?” Cassie asked.
“No, it was Kelly who started poking around and who figured it out, of course,” Megan said. “She started going over to the university and asking questions of some of the other fiber weaving artists taking classes there. That’s how she found out about a Denver artist who was jealous of Allison. Brian Silverstone. He and Allison had lived together years before, and Kelly said he used to tell people that Allison was studying with him. He did all sorts of fiber designs and collages, too, but he wasn’t as talented as Allison, apparently. I saw his work in Denver, and frankly, none of his artistic pieces even came close to Allison’s work. Her designs were striking. They grabbed your attention immediately.”
“So . . . this artist Silverstone killed Allison Dubois because he was jealous of her talent?” Cassie’s skepticism was evident in her question.
Megan nodded. “That’s putting it simply. But I think it was the national attention that Allison’s work was attracting that really caused Brian Silverstone to slip over the edge. That happened when the New York artist and designer Sophia Emeraud discovered Allison’s work and offered her a place in her New York design studio. I think that’s when Silverstone lost it. He couldn’t handle the fact that he simply didn’t possess the same caliber of talent Allison possessed.”
“What was it you used to call that guy, Megan? Brian Silverstone.”
Megan grinned. “I always called him a smarmy bastard.”
“Love it,” Jennifer said with a soft laugh.
“Wow, that story sounds as convoluted as some of the Greek tragedies in my world literature class,” Cassie said with a grin.
“Well, you asked for a non-scary story, so the flavored coffee Greek tragedy characters ought to qualify,” Jennifer replied.
“Speaking of tragic characters, remember that spinning teacher we had here at Lambspun years ago? Lucy Adair. She was a gifted spinner and teacher, but she was painfully shy, and women in her class were always trying to fix her up with a boyfriend or some nice guy they knew,” Megan said.
“Oh, wow, that’s a memory from way back,” Jennifer said.
“Didn’t Lucy have a playboy boyfriend or something? Some alpaca rancher, I think?” Megan asked.
“Yes, his name was Derek, but he was no woman’s boyfriend. That guy loved to play the field,” Jennifer said. “In fact, he loved his reputation as a playboy rancher. Years ago, I remember seeing him target women he wanted to spend the night with. He’d single them out, flatter them outlandishly until they melted, and take them home. Then, the next day, he’d toss them away like trash. The women were crushed, because they’d believed all his flattering words. He was a real piece of work.” Jennifer’s smile was now replaced by a frown.
“He certainly sounds like it,” Cassie commented. “What happened to him?”
“He was killed by a really hard blow to the head that led to fatal bleeding in his brain. He died within minutes, Burt said. It happened up at his ranch in Bellevue Canyon, so there wasn’t enough time for an ambulance or emergency crews to rescue him.”
“Wow. What was the weapon that caused that?” Cassie asked.
“It was an old, rusted long-handled shovel that was found in Derek’s barn lying beside his body. I remember Burt saying that there was blood still on the shovel, and Derek was lying on top of a pile of cash on the barn floor.”
“I wonder why there was cash lying on the barn floor,” Cassie pondered out loud.
“Nobody really figured that out,” Megan said. “Jennifer, didn’t you have a girlfriend named Diane who dated Derek? Wasn’t she a suspect for a while?”
“You bet she was. Diane was an old friend who was a recovering alcoholic. Unfortunately, she’d recover enough to feel better about herself, then she’d return to the bar and fall right back off the wagon.” Jennifer wagged her head. “That’s where she and Derek first met years ago. He and Diane were drawn together from the start, and they became a hot item, but they fought constantly. They’d make up, go steamy hot again, and then have a big fight at the bar. Over and over again. In fact, Diane went up to Derek’s ranch the night he was killed, and she told all the bar regulars that she was going up there. She was mad because she’d heard the rumors about sweet spinner Lucy talking about Derek as her fiancé.”
“Uh-oh,” Cassie said, clearly riveted by this tale of love and betrayal.
“I let Diane stay at my place, and I remember that she returned from the canyon really late that night. She looked exhausted, so I didn’t ask her any questions. I let her sleep it off. Then she went back to her old apartment without talking much at all, and it was a couple of days later when the newspaper ran the story about a murder up in Bellevue Canyon. Everyone was gossiping until it was revealed that the son of a wealthy alpaca rancher family was the victim of that murder, and it was only a few days afterwards that police came knocking on Diane’s apartment door. After all, she’d told everyone at the bar that she was driving up to Derek’s ranch to have it out with him about the fiancé rumor.”
“Did Diane ever stop drinking?” Cassie asked.
“It was Jayleen who actually helped Diane get sober,” Meg
an said.
“Yes, it was. Nothing seemed to take with Diane. The only time I saw her make real progress was when Jayleen took Diane under her wing and started taking her to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings,” Jennifer said.
“Thank goodness for Alcoholics Anonymous,” Megan observed, glancing into the main knitting room.
“I’ve heard that AA has helped people straighten their lives out for years,” Cassie remarked.
“Ohhh yes,” Jennifer agreed. “Decades, in fact. Jayleen has always said it saved her life years ago, and she’s tried to repay that by taking other people who need a helping hand.”
“Sooooo, who actually killed Derek?” Cassie asked. “Was it Diane? Someone at the bar?”
“Actually, it was our shy Lambspun spinner and teacher Lucy Adair who killed Derek. Apparently, Lucy drove up into Bellevue Canyon that same night after Diane went, and Lucy had a fight with Derek. I believe someone saw Lucy’s car parked on the canyon road near the entrance to Derek’s driveway late that night.”
“That sounds like a weird thing for her to do,” Cassie commented. “You described her as being quiet and shy and a great spinner and teacher, but you never said much about her relationship with this Derek guy.”
“Well, that’s because there really wasn’t a relationship,” Jennifer said. She took a long drink from her take-out cup. “Listening to Lucy talk, it was obvious she had built up this idea of an engagement from Derek’s first encounters with her. Lucy was obviously more innocent and trusting than some of Derek’s other conquests. So she willingly believed all of Derek’s promises and pretty words.”
“It sounds like Lucy finally started believing some of the rumors about Derek’s love-them-and-leave-them reputation,” Cassie said.
Megan nodded. “Exactly. That must have been what made her drive up to his ranch so late at night. It was definitely uncharacteristic behavior for her.”
“And she most probably saw Diane drive away from the ranch as she was approaching. So I’m sure that made her even more anxious,” Jennifer added. “I remember her telling us that she found Derek in the barn and confronted him, basically opening her heart, and Derek, being the lowlife that he was, spurned her. Right there. Told her he definitely wasn’t interested in a relationship with anyone.”
“What a crummy guy,” Cassie said, turning up her nose.
“Apparently, that’s what set Lucy off, and she lost it. She said she picked up the shovel and swung it hard and whacked Derek in the side of the head. She told Burt that she wasn’t trying to kill Derek. She just wanted to strike back and hurt him like he’d hurt her. But, as Burt explained, that severe blow broke enough blood vessels to cause major internal bleeding in the brain. I think Lucy told Burt she was shocked at what she did and fled out of the canyon in her car. Meanwhile, without medical help, Derek lay there on the barn floor and died. Lucy said she was shocked to hear the news, then she was terrified.”
“Wow . . .” Cassie said, glancing toward the bookshelves across the room. “That is one dramatic story. Sweet Lambspun spinner Lucy Adair turns killer.”
Megan laughed softly. “I prefer to think that Lambspun had nothing to do with all that violent behavior. I come here to relax and knit and see all of you.”
“So do I,” Jennifer said, before draining her coffee. “And now I have to get back to the café, you two.” She stood from her chair. “I’ll talk to you later,” she said as she walked into the central yarn room and headed toward the corridor leading to the café.
Cassie glanced over at Megan. “What do you remember about those murders, Megan?”
Megan rolled her eyes. “Believe me, I try not to remember them.”
“Did you folks really find a girl drowned in one of the basement dye tubs?” Cassie probed.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Megan said.
“Who killed her?”
Megan let out a sigh. “A seriously disturbed man who was the son of that rancher Geri Norbert. The girl downstairs at the dye tubs had dated him, so she knew his real name, and he was trying to hide his identity from the folks at Lambspun. He was trying to regain his family’s property that Geri Norbert lost when she went to jail. Kelly bought the property so Steve could build a ranch house on it. That was when she thought she wanted canyon property to live on. When Geri Norbert went to jail, the family ranch property went on sale to pay debts, and Kelly bought it. It was a beautiful piece of land, but after all of us saw the terrible things that started to happen after Kelly bought it, we convinced her that property was cursed and she should get rid of it. Which she did, thank goodness.”
Cassie blinked. “Cursed? Are you serious? What things were happening?”
“Well, it wasn’t the land that was the problem. It was the owners. Geri Norbert’s family owned it and didn’t want anyone else to buy it, especially Kelly, since she was responsible for Geri going to jail. So Geri’s certifiably crazy son Bobby started creating all sorts of damage around Kelly’s cottage and even tried to poison Carl.”
“Oh no!”
“Kelly got Carl to the vet hospital in time, thank goodness, but that Bobby did all sorts of things. Smeared red paint on Kelly’s cottage, even cut the brakes in Kelly’s car. She crashed into a tree going down the Bellevue Canyon road. It was the only way to stop. But Kelly broke her ankle, so she was on crutches when crazy Bobby tried to kill her in a barn in the canyon.”
Cassie sat back at that. “Whoa! I’ve never heard any of these stories.”
“That was a long time ago, Cassie, and Kelly hasn’t had any trouble ever since she sold the Geri Norbert property. Besides, she became so used to living in Fort Connor, she no longer wanted to have to drive a long way twice a day just to get home. It’s so much easier living here. But crazy Bobby was caught in that barn trying to kill Kelly. A great Larimer County deputy sheriff we called Deputy Don walked in on Bobby and Kelly in the barn. Kelly had thrown gasoline on Bobby, planning to grab a bunch of hay and set it on fire. She warned Bobby to back off or she’d light him up like a firecracker.”
“That sounds like Kelly,” Cassie said with a grin.
“Oh yeah,” Megan agreed. “Then Steve raced in after hearing that Kelly was up in the canyon alone, and Kelly told me Steve flattened Bobby with one punch.” She laughed. “Deputy Don apparently didn’t mind.”
“Yay, Steve!” Cassie said. “That’s the way to handle bad guys. Wow, that sounds like a really exciting case. Thanks for telling me, Megan.”
“Kelly’s exploits have kept all of us entertained over the years.”
“What happened after crazy Bobby and those murders?” Cassie probed with a smile.
“You definitely are persistent,” Megan said with a little laugh.
“Kelly always says that’s my only virtue,” Cassie teased.
“Let’s see . . .” Megan mused out loud as she started working the yarn in her lap. “After scary Bobby, I think it was . . . Oh yes! It was winter then, and we had the jealous widows and the Christmas cape mystery. At least that’s what I always called it.”
“I did, too,” Rosa’s voice called from the workroom doorway. “Couldn’t help overhearing your conversation, Megan and Cassie. Boy oh boy, did that bring back memories. I really remember that one, because I saw that beautiful bright red cape one of the early Lambspun regulars made. Juliet was her name.”
“Ohhhhhh yes,” Megan said, nodding. “Those memories are coming back now. I think there were some very sociable widows here in Fort Connor that knew one another from some social clubs, and three of them were attracted to this eligible bachelor in town, Jeremy. I think he was financially well off, too. So that made him even more attractive to the widows. The quieter widow, Juliet, was the one that widower Jeremy liked the most, but the other widows, I think their names were Claudia and Sheila, tried to get his attention, too, and, of course, Jeremy clearly didn’t mind being court
ed by more attractive women.”
“Tell her about the Christmas cape,” Rosa prodded as she walked into the main room and settled into a chair near Cassie.
“Don’t worry, I will,” Megan promised. “You see, widow Juliet was a fine knitter, but what she really loved to do was make handmade woolen winter capes, especially with designs on them, and that winter, Juliet had made a beautiful bright red Christmas cape for herself to wear. Juliet used her lovely cape every night in the winter when she would walk from the library where she worked to her home in the older section of Fort Connor, near the university.”
“Wow, she would walk at night?” Cassie had a concerned tone in her voice.
“Oh yes. Juliet lived near the university in the midst of lots of family housing and student rental houses and apartments. Usually, only students were out at night, and at the beginning of winter, most everyone in those older sections would be inside their houses, starting a warm winter fire and watching television. Mimi said that Juliet always had her phone with her, so if she ever felt unsafe, she would have called the police.”
“That sounds better,” Cassie said.
Megan continued. “Well, once widow Juliet accepted Jeremy’s proposal to marry and the word got around, widow Claudia was depressed that she hadn’t been able to attract Jeremy’s serious attention, but widow Sheila was particularly hit hard by the news. She had been desperately hoping she could capture Jeremy’s heart, since she was having money problems. That’s when Sheila made a really rash decision and convinced herself she could persuade Jeremy that she was better suited for him, but she had to eliminate Juliet first.”
“Uh-oh,” Cassie said. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Megan gave Cassie a smile and paused dramatically while she took a long drink from her travel mug before she continued.
“Sheila bought a bright red Christmas cape like Juliet’s from Lambspun, and then she deliberately swiped Claudia’s car keys and made copies. That night, she drove Claudia’s car over to the section of Old Town streets where Jeremy’s house was. She parked and waited until widow Juliet left Jeremy’s house and started walking to her home in Old Town. That’s when Sheila drove down the street and, according to Burt and the police, revved the car engine and drove right into Juliet, which sent her bouncing off the hood and onto the street.”
Dyeing Up Loose Ends Page 3
