Woman Killed in Late-Night Hit and Run, it read. No name, no details. Body was found last night. No witnesses, police report. Kelly thought the area where the accident occurred was in one of the older sections of town, not far from the university.
“Hey, you coming in for a break?” Lisa’s voice sounded from behind her. “I’ve got a few minutes before my next physical therapy appointment, so I thought I’d drop by.”
“Can’t right now. I’ve gotta go up into the canyon to see Jayleen. We’re going over her financial statements.” Kelly dropped the newspaper and retrieved the giant cookie box with one hand. “Is Mimi here? I thought these cookies would be safe with her.”
“Those are all cookies?” Lisa exclaimed. “Good Lord! How many did you make?”
“I doubled Aunt Helen’s recipe. There were supposed to be six dozen, but Steve and I gorged on them last night for dinner. So I think there’re only four dozen now.”
Lisa grinned. “So you really did make Helen’s gingersnaps. Good for you, Kelly. I’m proud of you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Kelly deflected the praise as they wound their way toward the knitting shop. “I was going to hand them over to Megan, but then I remembered Marty. Those cookies wouldn’t survive to the weekend if Marty was in the vicinity.”
“You got that right. Hey, there’s Burt. He’s trustworthy,” Lisa said, pointing across the adjacent yarn room.
“Who, me?” Burt teased as he approached, a plastic bag in his hand. A white wool fleece peeked from the top. “What’ve you got there, Kelly?”
“Cookies for the bazaar this weekend, and I need a safe place to hide them. They can’t stay at home, because Steve and I can’t be trusted. We went nuts last night.”
“She made Helen’s gingersnaps,” Lisa explained knowingly.
Burt’s eyebrows shot up. “You did! Wow, Kelly, I’m impressed. I thought you didn’t cook.”
“I don’t, so you can imagine what a sacrifice this effort entailed.” She handed the box to Burt. “I figured you and Mimi could be trusted better than Megan. Marty would sniff out anything she tried to hide.”
“It’ll be safe with us, Kelly,” Burt assured her. “We won’t even snitch. Until the bazaar, that is.” He winked.
“That’s okay. My job was to deliver them, and I’ve fulfilled my culinary obligation.” Kelly held her hand over the box. “May they rest in peace. Or pieces. Whatever. See you later, guys. I’ve gotta drive up into the canyon.”
“All hail, Cookie Chef,” Lisa called out as Kelly headed for the door.
Kelly stared at the snow-capped peaks in the distance. They were calling for more snow in the High Country this weekend. It would be great if she and Steve could take a weekday off and head for the ski slopes. Maybe Lisa and Greg could join them.
“Boy, it would be nice to escape one weekday and go skiing,” Kelly said as she and Jayleen walked down the wooden ranch house steps into the open barnyard. “But there’s no way I can swing it before the holiday. Too much work. And neither can Steve, not since he started another Old Town project. If we’re lucky, our schedules should both lighten around Christmas.”
Jayleen hooked her fingers through the belt loops of her jeans as they walked. “Funny, isn’t it? The more successful you get, the busier you get. You’d think you would have more time to enjoy it, but you don’t. You’re too busy working.”
“I know what you mean. Now that those Wyoming gas wells are producing, I’ve had to brush up on the rules and regulations of royalty accounting. That’s the problem with being your own CPA. You can’t hand the work over to someone else.” Kelly stopped and took in the stunning view of the Rockies. “I’ve always loved this view. It’s so gorgeous.”
“Yeah, it is,” Jayleen said with a sigh. “Every time I get a little anxious about the future, I come out here and stare at those mountains. They calm me down.”
“I still feel a little twinge, knowing I almost had a place up here.”
Jayleen glanced her way. “You’ll find a place someday, Kelly. That ranch wasn’t for you. Bad juju, remember?”
“I remember,” Kelly said with a chuckle as she and Jayleen strolled past the barn. “Listen, Jayleen, you have no reason to be anxious. Your accounts are in good order. Your alpaca business is growing, and I might add, prospering.” She gave her friend a pat on the back.
Jayleen scuffed her boots through the barnyard dirt. “You know, that still sounds so funny. The idea of my being prosperous. Lord a’mighty, I never envisioned it.”
“Well, you’ve worked hard, Jayleen, and you were willing to take some risks to succeed. Calculated risks. And they’re paying off.”
“Thank God,” Jayleen said as they approached the corral. Several alpaca milled about the corral, watching them. The brave ones came right up to the fence. A big smoke gray male pushed his face over the fence at Kelly.
“Hey, Zuni, how’re you doing, big boy?” Kelly said, stroking the alpaca’s neck and rubbing his nose at the same time. Zuni responded by pushing his face up closer.
“He wants a kiss,” Jayleen teased.
Kelly nuzzled Zuni. “You saved my life, didn’t you, Zuni? If not for you, I wouldn’t be alive.” She patted him again. “He looks great, Jayleen. His coat is full already.”
“Just about. It’s been so warm lately, the animals don’t know what to make of it.”
“If it keeps up like this, we may be celebrating Christmas dinner outside with a barbeque at Curt’s ranch.”
Jayleen laughed, then gazed out at the mountains for a full minute before speaking. “He wants to give me a horse.”
Kelly stroked Zuni’s neck, not sure what Jayleen was talking about. “Who wants to give you a horse?”
“Curt.”
“Really? That’s cool. I’ll bet it’s Seeker. That’s your favorite, right? You were riding him the last time Steve and I came out to ride with you and Curt.”
Jayleen scuffed the dirt in the barnyard again, staring at her boots. “Yeah. Seeker’s a good horse. He’s a pleasure to ride. Curt says he wants to scale down his livestock. You know, cut back a little.”
Kelly did a mental check of Curt’s stables. “That makes sense. Curt will have six horses left. That’s plenty for his family and grandkids.”
“Yeah.” She scuffed the dirt again.
Kelly stared at her friend. Something was obviously bothering Jayleen. Normally the plain-talking, straight-shooting Jayleen had no trouble speaking her mind. But for some reason she was hesitating. What on earth . . . ?
Out of the corner of Kelly’s mind, a little idea wiggled. Well, well, well. It’s finally happened. Colorado Rancher Curt had started to court rough-around-the-edges Jayleen. At last.
Kelly decided to test the waters, but she also knew her friend. She’d have to circle around Jayleen and hope she’d start talking.
“It sounds like you don’t want to accept the gift, Jayleen. I know how you feel about paying your own way all the time, and that’s a great rule. For strangers. But it’s okay to accept gifts from friends.”
Jayleen glanced at Kelly then stared out at the mountains again. “You’re right, Kelly. It’s just that . . .”
“What?” Kelly gently prodded.
Jayleen expelled a huge breath. “It’s just that I know what it means. What it really means.”
“It means he’s giving you a horse. You’ll have to feed it, stable it.”
Jayleen shot her an impatient look. “You know what I mean, Kelly. When a man starts giving a woman gifts, well, then, it usually leads to something. And . . . and I don’t think I can go there.”
“Where?” Kelly tried to hold a straight face until Jayleen shot her another “look.” Then, Kelly broke into laughter. “Sorry, Jayleen. I couldn’t help it.”
Jayleen tossed her graying blonde curls over her shoulder. “You can laugh, but it’s not funny. When a man starts paying attention to a woman, that means he’s serious. And I cannot get serious about any
man.”
“Why not?” Kelly figured the best thing she could do would be to keep playing devil’s advocate and provide a sounding board for Jayleen.
Jayleen rolled her eyes. “You know damn well why not! Face it, Kelly, I’m a two-time loser. And a drunk—”
“Alcoholic,” Kelly corrected. “You’ve been sober ten years, you said.”
“Eleven, actually. But this sort of thing could drive me to drink. I swear it could. I had to swear off men when I swore off booze.”
Kelly blinked. “Really?”
“Yep, men have always been my weakness. I get messed up with all that stuff, and then I’m a goner.”
“That was ten, uh, eleven years ago, Jayleen.”
“Men are addictive. Just like liquor.”
“I think you mean sex.”
“Same thing.” Jayleen shrugged. “Men and sex. That’s why I’m always keeping an eye out for Jennifer.” She shook her head. “That girl reminds me waaaay too much of me. I was out on the town all the time.”
Kelly pondered what Jayleen said. At least Jennifer didn’t drink that much. Well, too much. Usually. But the men . . . yeah . . . Jayleen had a point there. Jennifer was with a different guy every week.
“Jayleen, I worry about Jennifer, too. But we’re not talking about her. We’re talking about you and Curt here. If ever there was a man you could trust, it would be Curt.”
“You’re right,” Jayleen said with a sigh, staring off. “It’s just that I’m afraid to start down that path again.”
Kelly had to smile. Colorado Cowgirl Jayleen was skittish. Kelly could understand that. She’d been skittish herself about getting into a serious relationship with Steve. Her friends had teased her mercilessly for months about moving so slowly. But old baggage from Kelly’s past kept getting in the way. She’d found the “right guy” once before, years ago. Or so she thought. Turned out, she was wrong. All Kelly knew for sure was that relationships were risky, and they often ended in loss.
But last winter, all of Kelly’s hesitation was swept away one snowy February afternoon. Nearly losing her life in a car crash had brought everything into clear focus. Steve had won her heart and her trust months ago. They belonged together.
“Why don’t you just take it one step at a time, Jayleen? Curt’s giving you a horse, not a diamond, for Pete’s sake.”
Jayleen snickered.
Emboldened, Kelly reverted once again to humor. “I mean, this is Curt we’re talking about. Upstanding Colorado Rancher, stalwart, still good-looking—”
“A fine figger of a man,” Jayleen joined in with a laugh.
“Face it, Jayleen, the most Curt might do is invite you to his place for a bowl of chili.”
Jayleen hooted with laughter. “Don’t be too sure of that, Kelly girl. Curt’s got that look. I can always tell.”
“Okay, okay.” Kelly went along. “I’ll make you a promise. If Curt invites you over for dinner some evening, give me a call, and Steve and I will come along.”
Jayleen snickered again. “As chaperones? Damn, girl, Curt and I are too old for that.”
She caught Jayleen’s eye. “In that case, just give me a sign, and we’ll be out the door in a flash.”
The sound of both women’s laughter rang throughout the barnyard, startling the alpaca away from the fence and two ravens from a cottonwood tree. The large birds squawked as they flew off, their ebony wings flashing in the Colorado sunshine.
Kelly leaned over her computer keyboard and grabbed her ringing cell phone.
Mimi’s voice came, breathless. “Kelly, where have you been? I couldn’t get through to you on your phone earlier.”
“I was up in the canyon with Jayleen, then my cell phone ran out of juice. Why, what’s up?”
“Did you read the paper this morning? Did you see the article about the hit-and-run last night?” Mimi’s voice went up higher.
“Yes, I did. What’s the matter, Mimi? Was it someone you knew?”
“Yes, yes, it was. It was someone we both knew. It was Juliet Renfrow. You and Jennifer helped her at the church knitting class, remember? Juliet brings those beautiful capes every holiday. She . . . she was run over by a car and killed last night.”
“What! Are you sure it was Juliet?”
“Yes, it was her. I had a call from a friend who worked with Juliet at the library. Police found her last night lying there on the pavement . . . dead. That’s so awful I can’t bear to think about it.” Mimi started sniffling.
“My God . . .” was all Kelly could think of to say. She sat and stared at the computer screen but saw nothing. All she could see was Juliet—the little brown wren—standing proudly in the middle of the knitting shop in her beautiful Christmas cape.
Nine
Kelly looked up from her knitting. Steve’s alpaca wool scarf was heading into the home stretch. “Have the cops learned anything new?” she asked as Burt pulled out a chair beside Mimi at the knitting table.
“No, not yet. They’ve interviewed the nearby neighbors, but no one reported hearing any disturbance outside. They were probably asleep or watching television. Plus, the houses are set back farther from the street in that older section of town. And most residents have tall shrubbery and hedges designed to keep out noise. Lots of college students live in those old sections now, so there’s always a problem with loud parties and noise.”
“Tragic, simply tragic,” Hilda said in a mournful tone as a bright blue hat came to life on her needles. “Our little brown wren cut down after the happiest day of her life.”
“Please, Hilda, no more,” Lizzie begged softly as her fingers worked the green mittens. “I cannot bear to think about it. It’s too awful.”
Kelly kept silent, unwilling to add any more sad comments this morning. She and Mimi, Hilda, and Lizzie had spent the last hour sharing their shock at Juliet’s sudden death and their sorrow for her loss. Kelly hadn’t known Juliet very long, but she’d liked the dedicated librarian and talented fiber artist. Juliet clearly loved creating gorgeous fiber art and sharing it with children. It was such a shame that she had fallen victim to a senseless, tragic accident.
“Any hope the cops will catch the driver?”
“I sure hope so, Kelly, but with no eyewitness, police have no idea what kind of car was involved, let alone the license number. Without that, they won’t know who was driving. They are interviewing some students, though. There was one of those huge mob scene parties that night only three blocks from Juliet’s street. Apparently there was a hit-and-run over there, too. An elderly man stepped out from between two parked cars, and a carful of students ran right into him, breaking his leg.” Burt shook his head. “Crazed students racing to the next party.”
“Maybe that’s what happened to poor Juliet,” Mimi suggested. “It’s gotten really bad in those older sections. I know several friends who’ve had to sell their homes to escape the wild parties and the noise. And drunken students pounding on their doors at night.”
“Unfortunately, that’s all too common for a college town,” Burt said as he shifted into the corner chair and pulled out his spinning wheel. “Mimi, could you give me that bag of fleece behind you, please?”
Mimi handed Burt the large plastic bag, which spilled over with fluffy white fleece. “I’m going to get some more tea—does anyone else need something?”
“I’m good, Mimi, thanks,” Kelly said as the others demurred.
Burt took a hunk of fleece and started pulling the fibers apart, creating roving or batten, as spinners call it. “The department also put a notice in the newspaper asking anyone who was driving or walking in that vicinity of town to call the police. Someone may have seen something and not paid attention at the time. One clue can be all they need to track down the driver.”
“How could anyone be so heartless as to hit a woman and leave her lying in a pool of her own blood—”
“Hilda, please!” Lizzie protested, obviously upset by the gruesome image.
Undaunted, Hilda continued, “Lying alone on the pavement, dying—”
“Merciful heavens, stop!”
Kelly chimed in, hoping to squelch Hilda’s morbid depiction. “Hilda, you should stop now. You’re upsetting Lizzie.”
“Only a coward would do such a thing,” Hilda mumbled, staring at her knitting.
“Is there anything else the police can do, Burt?” Kelly said, steering the conversation in another direction.
“Yes, the department always checks auto repair and body shops to see if someone has come in with suspicious-looking damage to their car. You’d be surprised how many people are caught that way.”
“How is Jeremy taking it, I wonder.” Kelly concentrated on her stitches. Only ten inches or so to go, and she could bind off. Then Steve’s Christmas scarf would be done. Of course, it had started out as an autumn scarf, then a Thanksgiving scarf, changing with the calendar. Kelly was simply glad that the weather was cooperating. Thanks to the warmer spell, Steve was still going to his building sites with denim shirts and jacket. No wintry winds so far and none in sight, according to the weatherman.
“I have no idea,” Hilda volunteered. “I imagine he’s in a state of shock.”
“Well, I for one don’t care—” Lizzie began.
“I don’t believe it!” Hilda exclaimed, staring into the central yarn room. “How can that woman have the gall to show up here today? After Juliet’s death.”
Kelly turned to see the object of Hilda’s consternation. There was Claudia, in one of her two well-worn designer suits, talking with Mimi beside the yarn bins.
“Good for her, I’m glad to see Claudia’s come out of hiding,” Burt said, glancing up.
“Goodness, yes. I’m so glad she took my advice,” Lizzie said, giving a little wave. “I told her she could not hide from the world in her motel. She had to get out and see friends again. It will make her feel so much better.”
Prime Crime Holiday Bundle Page 42
