“Oh, yes, please,” Claudia implored, hand to her breast. “If there’s any way to stop Sheila from spreading those lies, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Why don’t you start by telling me what happened, okay?” Burt coaxed.
Claudia let the yarn and needles fall to her lap. “Well, it all started when we received notices at the retirement residence that the monthly rents were being raised sharply. I confess I looked at that letter and my heart sank. My two little annuity payments didn’t cover the higher amount, and I had no extra funds in the bank. I . . . I was just heartsick because I knew I would have to move, and there was nowhere else to go. Nowhere safe, that is.”
She stared out into the café. “I fell apart. I just hid in my room and cried and cried. Mary Ann found me there and let me cry on her shoulder. I remember telling her that I needed to start over again, away from Florida and Sheila and all her lies. Find a new place to live and start fresh, somewhere far away. Dear Mary Ann suggested I take her car. It had been sitting in the residence garage for over a year, ever since her vision failed.”
Claudia took a sip of coffee before continuing. “She handed me the car keys. Then she told me to take them and leave Florida, make a new start. She even offered me her credit card to pay for expenses until I could get settled.” Claudia gave a little sigh. “I told Mary Ann I couldn’t accept her offer. It was too much, and I didn’t know when I could pay her back. But she insisted, saying that both the car and the credit card were sitting there unused. They weren’t doing her any good. So she might as well use them to help someone else.”
“That was extremely generous of her,” Kelly said, still amazed at the story.
Claudia sent Kelly an earnest look and nodded. “Oh, that was Mary Ann. She was a sweetheart and a saint. I swore to her that I’d repay her every cent and return the car as well. Once I became situated, that is. And I promised I would stay in touch.”
“Did you call her from Fort Connor?”
“Oh, yes, as soon as I found a motel and settled in. I called to let Mary Ann know. She sounded fine on the phone. I cannot believe she died the very next day.”
Burt rubbed one hand over the back of the other in a gesture Kelly had witnessed many times. He was pondering Claudia’s amazing tale. “Did you tell anyone at the residence about Mary Ann’s offer?”
Claudia pursed her mouth, evidently pondering as well.
“I think I mentioned it to the sweet little lady who sat beside me at dinner. But she’s so forgetful, I doubt she would remember. I learned not to share too much about my private life with people there, because gossip spreads so easily, you know. And I had a feeling that Sheila had a friend working on the staff. I’d often catch one of them watching me.”
“Sounds like it’s going to come down to your word against Mary Ann’s family,” Burt said gently. “And if that happens, the police will most likely side with the family. You realize that, don’t you, Claudia?”
Claudia drew back, clearly aghast. It was obvious to Kelly that Burt’s sensible scenario had never entered Claudia’s head.
“What . . . what does that mean?”
“If the family files a stolen car report with the Florida police, then they’ll investigate the crime and enter the vehicle into the national database as stolen. Then the Florida police would contact the police here to help them investigate. That’s when the Fort Connor police would get involved. They would locate the car, and then they would contact you.”
Claudia blanched. “They’d arrest me?” she cried.
“Yes,” Burt said softly. “I’m sorry, Claudia. But once an arrest warrant is filed, then the legal system takes over. Crimes have to be investigated.”
Kelly placed her hand on Claudia’s arm, patting reassuringly. “Don’t panic, Claudia. I know a very good lawyer with a local firm, and I’ll ask him if he does pro bono work. That way, you’ll have someone to represent you.”
“You mean they’d take me to the police station?” she squeaked.
“Yes, at first,” Burt continued gently. “Then they’d take you to jail, where you’d be booked, and then you’d go before a judge—”
“Ohhhh, noooo!” Claudia wailed, both hands fluttering at her breast now. “They’d drag me in like a common criminal! Oh, my Lord! I couldn’t bear it! Oh, no!”
“They wouldn’t drag—” Burt tried to reassure her, but Claudia interrupted with another anguished wail.
“Ohhhh, noooooooo! Thrown into a cage with . . . with criminals! I’d die on the spot. I haven’t done anything wrong! Please believe me!”
“Claudia, you’re upsetting yourself,” Kelly counseled, noticing concerned customers turning around in their seats in the café, curious as to the disturbance.
Claudia refused to be consoled. She grabbed Burt’s hand and squeezed it between hers. “Oh, please, Burt, please! I beg of you, please help me. Don’t let them throw me in jail, please! I’ll perish. I won’t survive. I’ll die!”
Burt placed his other hand atop hers. “I promise I will do whatever I can to help you, Claudia,” he said, his face reflecting his concern at Claudia’s emotional outburst.
“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, Burt,” she murmured. Leaning forward, she kissed his hand.
Burt looked surprised, and patted her hands before removing his from her grasp. “Don’t worry, Claudia.” The insistent ring of his cell phone interrupted then. “You have friends here,” he added as he left the table, cell phone still ringing.
Kelly observed Claudia, concerned about the intensity of her outburst. Clearly, Claudia was “high-strung,” as her aunt Helen would have said. Maybe some quiet knitting time would help.
“Claudia, you need to calm down. No one’s coming to throw you in jail,” Kelly declared, not entirely sure she was correct. “Why don’t you sit here alone for a while and knit? I find that knitting quietly orders my thoughts and helps me make decisions. It’s relaxing and settles my mind.”
Claudia looked up, color coming back into her face. “You’re right. I need to calm down. Yes. I’ll try,” she said, chewing her lip. She resumed knitting the magenta shawl.
“Do you have any activities scheduled at the senior center this morning?” Kelly asked as she left the table. Client accounts were calling. She had to get back to the cottage and back to work.
Claudia shook her head. “No, I’m afraid I won’t be going to the senior center as much,” she said forlornly. “Sheila’s been talking to some of the group leaders there, and people look at me strangely now.” She released a dramatic sigh. “Besides, it’s another two taxicab fares. I’ve stopped using Mary Ann’s car, so now it’s much more expensive for me to get about town.”
Kelly couldn’t help feeling sorry for Claudia. Alternating her two nice suits, living in a seedy motel by the interstate while she tried to start a new life. Good Lord. Claudia’s life was really the stuff of soap operas. She gave Claudia’s arm another pat before she turned to leave. “Try not to worry, Claudia.”
Grabbing her coffee mug, Kelly headed down the hallway that connected the café to the knitting shop. If Megan was there, she could check out Kelly’s finished hat. If it met Megan’s exacting standards, Kelly would turn it over to the charity collection. Then she could finish Steve’s alpaca winter scarf—at last.
Kelly slowed as she rounded the corner into the shop. Holiday shoppers were everywhere—plundering yarn bins, digging into chests, and comparing fibers as they made their buying decisions. She wove her way carefully toward the front of the shop where a line had already formed at the cash register. Kelly spotted Lizzie and Juliet, who were talking beside the Mexican tile fireplace.
Kelly almost didn’t recognize Juliet. The little brown wren was not attired head to toe in her favorite shades of brown. Instead, Juliet wore a dramatic crimson red cape that reached her knees.
“Goodness, Juliet, is that one of those Christmas capes I’ve been hearing about?” Kelly asked as she approached.
&nb
sp; “Indeed it is, dear,” Lizzie answered, pointing to Juliet like a proud mother. “Isn’t it simply beautiful? Mimi sells every cape that Juliet brings.”
“You certainly weren’t exaggerating, Lizzie,” Kelly said as she admired the graceful drape of the fabric. The gently rounded and curved edges were bordered with two-inch green braid as were the pockets and hood. “It’s gorgeous.”
Juliet beamed, her pale cheeks coloring with obvious pleasure. “Thank you, Kelly. I’ve been making these for several years.” She held a neat stack of folded capes in her arms.
Kelly reached out and touched the fabric. “Juliet, this is so soft and fine. It’s scrumptious. You wove this?”
“Yes, I weave the fabric, then I make the capes. They’ve been selling very well. And it’s such a worthy cause. All the money goes to the Separated Moms and Kids Fund.”
“What’s that?” Kelly asked, still fondling the fabric. It was soft enough to have been woven by angels.
“The county police department collects money to buy toys for mothers who are incarcerated and away from their children during the holidays. Then they throw a big party so the kids can receive presents from their moms.” Juliet set a pile of folded capes on the fireplace hearth.
“Wow, that is a worthy cause,” Kelly said, letting the seductive fabric slide from her fingers at last. “I know Megan plans to buy one of your capes.”
“Oh, that reminds me, dear. Megan gave me a message for you,” Lizzie said, placing the last cape atop the others. “She said don’t forget to bake cookies. The bazaar is next weekend, and she’s in charge of cookie collection.”
Kelly had already forgotten. “Uhhhh, thanks, Lizzie. I confess the cookies had slipped off my radar screen. I finished my first Hat for the Homeless. So I guess I can only remember one charity obligation at a time.”
“Excuse me, ladies, but I have to continue my deliveries. I’ll see you both at the bazaar, right?” Juliet said as she turned to go.
“Yes, indeed,” Lizzie said with a conspiratorial smile. “Meanwhile, I’ll be waiting on pins and needles for your call tomorrow.”
Juliet blushed and gave an embarrassed little wave before hurrying from the crowded front room.
Kelly couldn’t resist following up on Lizzie’s last comment. She sensed Lizzie was up to something. Or wanted to be. “What’s happening with Juliet?”
Lizzie’s eyes danced, and she beckoned Kelly farther from the customers milling about the room and standing in line. “It’s so exciting! Jeremy called Juliet this morning and asked her if she would meet him for dinner tonight. He had something important to ask her.” Lizzie glanced over her shoulder but the customers were totally absorbed in their fiber pursuits and purchasing. “Juliet told me Jeremy drew her aside at the library the other day and apologized for his recent ‘preoccupation,’ as he called it.”
Preoccupation. It sounded like Jeremy’s romance with the vivacious Merry Widow might be cooling. Jeremy’s waning interest would be another blow to an already emotionally fragile Claudia. How would she handle the end of their romance? Kelly wondered.
“Do you think Jeremy is regretting his, uh . . . dalliance with Claudia?”
Lizzie’s eyes went wide as she bent to whisper, even though no one nearby seemed to be paying attention to their conversation. “Perhaps so. I must admit I’m not surprised. Jeremy is a quiet soul with habits much more attuned to Juliet’s simple life. They’re both quite similar in personality—”
Lizzie never finished, because Claudia suddenly rushed up to them. Her face was flushed with excitement. “There you are. I was hoping I’d find someone to talk to. I’ll simply burst if I don’t share the good news,” she gushed.
Kelly blinked at the transformation. Gone was frightened, panicked, beaten-down Claudia-the-Victim. Now Claudia glowed, clearly joyful about something. What could have happened to cause such a sudden transformation?
“Wow, Claudia, you really look happy. What’s the good news?” Kelly asked.
“My Prince Charming is coming to the rescue. He called me on the phone,” she declared rhapsodically, one hand at her breast. “I knew he would. Now I’ll have a strong man in my life to protect me again. Like Mama said. I knew Jeremy would propose. I just knew it.”
Kelly managed to hide her surprise. But Lizzie wasn’t so successful. “Did . . . did Jeremy propose to you?”
“Not yet, but I know he will,” Claudia declared, clasping her knitting bag to her bosom, face still radiating her happiness. “He wants me to meet him for lunch in Old Town this afternoon. He said he had something very important to tell me. Oooooooo, I’m so excited!” Claudia spun about in a circle like a delighted schoolgirl.
Suddenly she stopped, grabbed one of Juliet’s Christmas capes, and held it up. “These must be the Christmas capes I’ve been hearing about. Oh, I simply must have one. This red is perfect for me, don’t you think?” she asked of the roomful of shoppers.
Claudia’s girlish laughter trilled as several customers oohed and aahed their admiration and encouragement.
Lizzie stared at Claudia’s joyful display, clearly speechless, while Kelly wondered to herself, What is Jeremy Cunningham up to?
Seven
Kelly maneuvered the grocery cart around the supermarket produce aisle. Lemons. She needed lemons. Organic or regular? Kelly checked the list. Aunt Helen’s recipe didn’t say, so she figured regular ones should be fine. She chose three fat yellow lemons and dropped them into the empty cart. Now, off to the baking aisle for the flour and sugar and spices and all that other stuff on the list. With a little luck, she could finish this early morning grocery errand, then return to the client accounts beckoning from her home office.
Why she’d decided to attempt Aunt Helen’s gingersnap cookies, Kelly didn’t know. Maybe it was the twinge of nostalgia she’d felt when she found Helen’s recipe book in the garage last night. She remembered that book. Helen used it all the time and especially for the holidays. Kelly swore she could still smell ginger as she turned the pages.
Then again, it might have been the challenge. Kelly found it hard to resist a challenge. After all, she was known as the Microwave Cook, and the Kitchen Klutz. It would be fun to surprise everyone with homemade cookies. Assuming she could translate Helen’s recipe properly. Kelly still wasn’t sure exactly how to do these different procedures the instructions called for.
Her cell phone rang as she rounded the corner of the baking aisle. “Kelly, I just got off the phone with my Florida friend,” Burt said. “He knows a guy in the Sarasota police department and was able to check out the stolen car situation. Apparently there hasn’t been an official report filed yet, so nothing has gone into the national database. The Sarasota cop told him that during their investigation at the retirement home, one elderly resident recalled Claudia telling her she was borrowing Mary Ann’s car for a while. So the cops haven’t decided how they’re going to proceed. This woman appears credible, he said. That’s why they haven’t issued a warrant for Claudia’s arrest.”
Kelly pulled her cart to the side of the aisle beside the bags of sugar. She grabbed one. “That’s fantastic news, Burt. It proves Claudia’s telling the truth. She didn’t steal the car.”
“Well, not exactly. It simply shows there’s another version of the story. After all, that resident had no way to know if Claudia was lying to her or telling the truth. Apparently, the family’s convinced Claudia’s lying.”
“Hmmm, you’re right,” Kelly said, stepping aside so a man could gather two large sacks of sugar and drop them atop an already full cart. “So what’s going to happen now?”
“My friend said the Sarasota police have been interviewing more people at the home to see if they can figure out what happened. They’re hoping to have some answers soon.”
She selected a rectangular plastic bag of dark brown sugar and dropped it into the cart. “Well, I’m sure Claudia will be relieved to hear that. Maybe they’ll find more corroboration of her story, and she
’ll be cleared.” Kelly pushed her cart ahead to get out of the way of the holiday bakers pawing over the sugar. Parking near the sugar shelves obviously wasn’t a good idea.
“I’ll give her a call later. Right now, I’ve got a spinning class to teach.”
“If you have time, Burt, why don’t you give Sheila a call, too? Tell her what you’ve learned. Maybe that will be enough to convince her to tone down the accusations. Claudia may turn out to be innocent.”
“I’ll give it a try, Kelly. Mimi said she’d persuaded Sheila to take a crochet class, so she may show up today. Talk to you later.” He clicked off.
Kelly shoved her phone into her jacket pocket and continued her pursuit of recipe items. Baking soda and baking powder. What’s the difference? Kelly examined the small can and the small box before she tossed both into the cart, where they rattled between the lemons. Her cart was relatively empty compared to the ones some of these other shoppers were pushing around. Their carts were piled with flour, sugars of all kinds, spices, chocolate chips, baking chocolate, tins of cocoa. Obviously they were serious holiday bakers.
Kelly aimed for the shelves loaded with five-pound bags of flour only to be presented with a quandary. There were many kinds of flour. Regular white flour, self-rising flour, whole wheat flour, cake flour, and others too numerous to mention. She scowled at the multiple bags and back to the recipe. Aunt Helen had written “flour.” That was all. No mention of type. Oh, brother. She knew her cooking inexperience would throw a wrench into things.
Noticing a middle-aged woman browsing the aisle beside her, Kelly smiled her brightest. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I’m trying to make my late aunt Helen’s cookie recipe, and I’m not much of a cook. In fact, I don’t cook at all, so I’m confused about this recipe. Could you help me decipher it, please?”
The woman returned Kelly’s smile. She appeared to be in her fifties or so and had a round, friendly face. “Certainly, I’ll be glad to help.”
Kelly eagerly handed over the recipe. “Thank you so much. I don’t want to poison anyone with my first cooking effort.”
Prime Crime Holiday Bundle Page 40
