Yarn Over Murder

by Maggie Sefton

  Aunt Helen had left Kelly the beige stucco, red-tile-roofed cottage across the driveway from her aunt’s favorite knitting shop, Lambspun. It was a smaller version of the Spanish Colonial–style former farmhouse that now housed the popular knitting shop. Her aunt Helen and uncle Jim had lived there when Kelly was a child. Sheep once grazed on pastures where golfers now chased balls. Located on the edge of Fort Connor’s Old Town, the city-owned golf course was bordered on one side by the Cache La Poudre River and trail. The Cache La Poudre flowed out of the canyon of the same name and ran diagonally across Fort Connor before it joined the South Platte, those waters rushing to meet the great Mississippi.

  Mimi’s husband, Burt, advised Kelly on all detective-related matters. Ever since Kelly had joined the warm family atmosphere at Lambspun, she’d found herself involved in helping to solve various murders of local residents. Several of them were friends of the Lambspun family and staff. Her friends called it “sleuthing.” Burt, however, always took Kelly’s efforts seriously. He was quick to point out that her track record of discovering the real guilty party in a murder had been “impressive” over the years.

  “It’s crazy over there in Landport,” Burt said, holding out his cup for Jennifer as she approached with the coffeepot. “Kelly, did you know Jennifer and Pete brought a feast over to our house when we arrived home last night?”

  Jennifer gave a dismissive wave. “We just packaged up extras from Sunday’s brunch and lunch. We figured you folks were tired of eating corn dogs.” She winked.

  Burt closed his eyes. “If I never see another corn dog again, it’ll be too soon.”

  “Mimi told me you two would have to run extra miles to compensate.”

  “I don’t even want to think about it,” Burt said, blowing on his coffee before he took a sip.

  “Oh, pooh. You two deserved a good meal. Cassie must have had two slices of pecan pie. After eating dinner, of course,” Jennifer added.

  “Don’t tell Marty. He’ll be over here for lunch to finish off that pie.” Kelly laughed.

  “That means Cassie’s going to have a growth spurt. Kids’ appetites always pick up right before they shoot up in height,” Burt said. “I remember watching my daughter grow up, and my grandkids. It happened like clockwork.”

  “Wow, she’s pretty tall for her age now.”

  “When’s her twelfth birthday?” Kelly asked.

  “July tenth. It’s a Saturday, so we’ll have a big party late that afternoon. With all this heat in June, it’s bound to be broiling by July.” Jennifer glanced around at the smaller amount of midmorning customers starting to thin out before the lunch crowd arrived. “I’ll check on you two later,” she said, turning away toward the other tables.

  “I only stopped in for coffee before I pick up some supplies for the Salvation Army folks. All of their staff are on duty out there at the Ranch, serving hot meals from their special food truck. So I volunteered to run stuff from town out to Landport for the Red Cross and to the Salvation Army at the Ranch by the interstate. Trying to be useful.”

  “How’s that fire look from the highway outside town? You can get a better long-range view of the mountains from there. Last night, Steve and I drove out to the interstate for a long-distance view. Black clouds were glowing red, orange, and yellow. Even the setting sun glowed bloodred. It was frightening.”

  Burt’s expression sobered. “Fire’s gotten worse, judging from all the smoke. The national incident commander gave the news update this morning, if you watched it. The Hot Shots jumped right in, but the fire had spread so much it’ll be hard for even them to slow it down. More are coming in today.”

  “Both Steve and I watched the update. Thank goodness we’re getting some help. Plus a water tanker plane. He said one was coming in today. Poudre Canyon residents were evacuated, and the road’s closed from Ted’s Place store at the intersection with the main highway, all the way west into the canyon up near Rustic.”

  Kelly’s smartphone that lay on the table beeped with a text message. She picked it up and read. “From Lisa. She said . . . Oh, no. Wildfire has spread over Soldier Canyon Ridge. Greg spotted the fire blazing in the trees from his office windows at the university.” Kelly looked up at Burt; his surprise mirrored hers.

  “Good Lord,” Burt said, then tossed down his coffee and pushed back his chair. “I’d better get those supplies over to Landport, then see what else I can do.”

  Kelly rose and pushed her laptop closed. Spreadsheets could wait. “If it’s spread over the top of Soldier Canyon Ridge, that means it’s burning on the ridge right above Horsetooth Reservoir. There are bunches of mountain homes all along there.”

  Burt pulled his cell phone from his pocket as he walked toward the back door of the café. “They’re gonna have to get those folks out of there. I’m calling Dan to see if the department needs any help with directing traffic away from that area. Talk to you later, Kelly.” He was out the door and down the steps quickly.

  Kelly headed for the front door and down the steps, then out the curved stucco archway entrance to the front parking lot near the busy city street. Walking away from the shop, she aimed for the edge of the golf course, hoping she could glimpse something from there. Peering westward in the hot, hazy midmorning sky, Kelly thought she spotted a new plume of smoke, but buildings in Old Town blocked a clear view.

  Her phone beeped again, and it was a message from Marty, sent to the group. He could see the fire from the tall bank building where his law offices were located, west of Old Town. Flames were burning hot red orange.

  Kelly’s gut squeezed. Oh, no. So many people had made the foothills near Horsetooth Reservoir their home, building some grand but mostly modest houses in the shallow canyons and on the gently rolling ridges. She felt compelled to jump in her car right now and drive to the west side of town to Overland Trail. It hugged the western edge of the city right beside the foothills. There was no way she could concentrate on spreadsheets now with the wildfire burning on the other side of the reservoir, in the midst of beautiful hiking and biking trails.

  She walked swiftly back toward the café and noticed several customers gathered on the balcony and standing on the black wrought-iron chairs. Everyone was gazing westward. News of the wildfire’s spread was clearly being passed from person to person. Without frequent news alerts on radio or television, nowadays people notified each other via e-mail and text messages and tweets. Information was immediate now. So were rumors.

  Now that this wildfire was classified as serious enough for a national response, Kelly hoped the fire incident commander could give citizens even more accurate and updated information. All they knew was what their own eyes told them: The wildfire was growing, igniting more areas. More plumes of smoke were evidence of that. Plus the news that the fire had spread from eight thousand to over twenty thousand acres now. Dry forests and pine bark beetle–killed trees ignited quickly, practically spontaneous combustion.

  Reaching the café patio garden, Kelly saw Pete on the deck staring westward with his customers, pointing. Noticing Kelly, Pete gave her a half-smile and a wave. “Hey, Kelly. Mimi was looking for you,” he said as she paused beneath the balcony. “She went back into the shop, I think.”

  “Thanks, Pete. I bet you’ve been baking extra to make up for all that private catering you guys did this weekend,” she said, smiling up at him as she walked along the flagstone pathway that led through the garden and around to the front entrance of the knitting shop.

  The bright hardy red geraniums and yellow zinnias were holding up well in their sunny spot of the garden. Thank goodness most of the patio garden was shaded a great deal of the day. Only the midday sun really bathed the front third, which suited the gardenias, zinnias, and honeysuckle bushes just fine, she noticed.

  Kelly yanked open the heavy wooden front door and looked around the foyer for Mimi. Only two customers were browsing the bins i
n the foyer.

  Walking through the central yarn room, Kelly scanned around the main knitting room. No Mimi. The room was unusually empty this morning, so Kelly figured there must be a class going on, and headed for the adjoining workroom.

  As she turned the corner, she nearly ran into Mimi. “Ooops, I’m still taking those corners too fast. Sorry, Mimi.”

  Mimi didn’t even smile like she usually did. Instead, she grabbed Kelly’s arm and leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Kelly, I’ve been looking for you. I just had a phone call. Andrea’s dead!”

  Five

  Monday afternoon, June 11

  Kelly drew back, shocked. “Dead! How? Did she get caught with the fire in the canyon?”

  Mimi shook her head. “I don’t know. Curt called a few minutes ago and said Dennis called Jayleen earlier. Told her he found Andrea lying on the ground behind her house in Poudre Canyon Saturday night. Nobody was around. Jim Carson wasn’t there. Dennis said he took her in his car down the canyon road to get to a hospital. He believed she was still alive because he thought he felt a weak pulse. Then he flagged down paramedics driving into the canyon and the guy checked Andrea. He said she was already dead. No heartbeat. No pulse.”

  “Good Lord! I can’t believe this! She was healthy and strong on Saturday. How could she be dead? Did she have some disease, Mimi? I mean, did she get seizures?”

  Mimi gestured helplessly. “I don’t know anything about Andrea’s health history, Kelly. She was one of our regular fiber suppliers, that’s all. I didn’t know her personally like Jayleen. I’m simply repeating everything Curt told me. Curt had another call coming in, so he couldn’t talk more.”

  “How horrible,” Kelly said, staring out into the yarn room colors. “Andrea seemed so vibrant and alive. How could she suddenly be dead . . . ? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “A lot of things in life don’t make sense, Kelly,” Mimi said, wistfully. “Let me know if you learn anything. You may get a chance to talk to Jayleen later.” Mimi’s cell phone started ringing. “Oh, I have to take this. It’s the vendor I’ve been trying to reach. I’m placing an order with a new supplier.”

  “Talk to you later, Mimi.”

  Kelly watched Mimi walk through the workroom into the office and storage space behind. Mimi had given her an idea, and Kelly headed back to the café. Noticing some customers still standing on the café balcony staring westward, she shut down her laptop and loaded it into her over-the-shoulder briefcase. She looked around for Jennifer and saw her loading two soup and salad selections onto her tray. Early lunchtime had already started.

  She walked over to her friend and spoke softly. “Don’t tell anyone but Pete. Mimi just heard that Andrea Holt, Jayleen’s alpaca rancher friend in Poudre Canyon, was found dead at her ranch. No other details yet.”

  Jennifer looked shocked. “Whoa, I think I met her a few times at the café. Didn’t she come in here to sell Mimi alpaca wool?”

  Kelly nodded. “Yeah. And we all took six of Jayleen’s alpacas to her place up the Poudre on Saturday. Who knows what’s happening with them now. I’m going to drive over to Curt’s ranch and talk with them to see if they’ve learned anything else. I wish we could help. Who’s going to feed those animals now?”

  Jennifer frowned. “I know you want to help, Kelly. But you guys can’t go into Poudre Canyon. I don’t care how many alpacas are there. Police and firefighters closed the road.”

  “I know.” Kelly sighed. “That was wishful thinking. I wonder how long the canyon road will be closed. They were able to stop the fire.”

  “For now. Who knows what will happen? Look at it now, coming across Soldier Canyon. New spots are popping out all over. Remember the police chief on TV last night saying there was no hope of containment. The wildfire was spreading in every possible direction.

  “It’s a good thing more Hot Shots are on their way. They should be on the ground tomorrow. Thanks to that wind, this wildfire has gotten way out of control. We’ve never seen anything this bad around here. We’ve seen it near Denver—like when the Haymarket Fire happened, but not here. Listen, I’ve gotta take care of customers. Catch me up later on anything you learn, okay?”

  “Will do,” Kelly promised, then headed toward the café’s back door. Noticing Cassie wiping off a table, Kelly gave her a wave as she left.

  • • •

  Turning her car onto Curt’s long ranch driveway, Kelly detected the increased smell of smoke in the air. East of town, at Lambspun, it wasn’t as noticeable as in the western part of Fort Connor. Burt’s ranch was southwest of town, far enough away from the Bellevue Canyon and Buckhorn Canyon areas where the risk of fire was higher. Only the far edges of Burt’s ranch bordered the lower Buckhorn area.

  The fact that the smoke smell was evident here meant only one thing: The wildfire had spread closer and was moving southwest.

  Kelly thought she spotted her alpacas in the midst of Jayleen’s herd as she got closer to the ranch yard. As she pulled her car to a stop, she saw Jayleen walk out of the corral and head her way.

  “Lord, Kelly, what brings you out here through this God-awful heat?” Jayleen asked as she strode up, her tee shirt damp and already clinging to her skin.

  Kelly slammed her car door. “Two things, actually. First, I had to see that fire over on Soldier Canyon for myself.”

  Jayleen wagged her head. “Lordy, Lordy, that was a frightful thing to see. Right there across from Horsetooth.”

  “I know. I deliberately drove over on Overland Trail so I could see how bad it is. Awful.” Remembering the fearful feeling when she saw for herself the red orange flames licking the tops of trees just over Soldier Canyon ridge. Gray, black, and white smoke billowing up. “But I did see firefighters working on it. Greg texted us that he hoped it wasn’t his imagination, but he thinks he spotted less flames than when it first started. I hope he’s right.”

  “Lord, yes. Of course, you folks in Fort Connor aren’t in any danger. There’s no way a wildfire is gonna cross over Horsetooth Reservoir. That’s for damn sure.” Jayleen gave a purposeful nod, then eyed Kelly. “I imagine I know what the other reason is. Mimi told you about Andrea.”

  “Yes. And I couldn’t believe it, Jayleen.” Kelly gestured. “I . . . I mean we were all together in Bellevue and at Andrea’s ranch up the Poudre . . .” She looked at Jayleen, bewildered.

  “I know, Kelly. It was hard to make sense of what Dennis was telling me when he called. Poor man, I felt sorry for him. He was crying all the while he was talking. It was hard to understand what he was saying.”

  “Mimi said apparently Dennis found Andrea lying on the ground behind her house. Is that right?” Kelly swatted away a fly.

  “That’s right. Dennis said he drove to Andrea’s place as soon as the orange glow behind the south wall of the canyon ridge got brighter. It was dark by then, after nine o’clock at night. He saw all her lights on, but she wasn’t inside the house. Jim Carson wasn’t there either. Dennis said he was concerned so he walked around the back and that’s when he found her lying on the ground. Right below the steps. She’s got a flight of steep steps up to the balcony around the back of her house. So he figured she must have fallen. Dennis swore he felt a faint pulse, so he was convinced Andrea was still alive.” Jayleen wagged her head with a sigh. “But some paramedics he found coming into the canyon checked her and didn’t find a heartbeat. She was already dead.”

  “You know, even though Mimi already repeated everything Curt told her, hearing it a second time still sounds unreal. What a freakish accident. And right in the midst of all this wildfire chaos.” She swatted away another fly as it buzzed close to her face.

  “I feel the same way, Kelly. Why don’t we go inside the ranch house and get out of this heat? I don’t know about you, but I need some ice-cold sweet tea.”

  Kelly fell into step beside her rancher friend. Jayleen Swinson
was what Kelly called a Colorado Cowgirl. Despite her sixty-plus years and the silver taking over her long blonde curls, Jayleen displayed the same hardworking, can-do spirit she had since Kelly first met her years ago. Fourteen years sober, Jayleen had created success in her life by building her alpaca ranching business slowly, step by step. As her accountant, Kelly had offered financial advice along the way, but Jayleen had taken the risks necessary to make success a reality.

  Now, all that hard work might be in jeopardy. The wildfire still blazed around Bellevue Canyon, the wind whipping it here and there, no telling how much had burned. Way over twenty thousand acres by now. Smoke still billowed upward like it did Saturday. Manpower was stretched thin right now. Firefighters were flying in, according to news reports, but not fast enough. The wildfire was faster than all of them.

  Kelly had also not forgotten Jayleen’s alpacas that she and her friends had rescued from Bellevue Canyon and taken to Andrea’s ranch on Saturday. How could they rescue them now?

  “Jayleen, what about your alpacas at Andrea’s?” Kelly asked as she followed her up the steps to Curt’s wide front porch. She and her friends had spent many an enjoyable hour relaxing on that porch over the years at countless barbecues and potluck suppers. “We can’t drive up into the canyon to get them out. Who’s going to take care of them now that Andrea’s dead?”

  Jayleen held open the screen door for Kelly to enter the homey ranch house kitchen. “Well, Dennis is taking care of them for me, but you can’t breathe a word. He’s laying low at Andrea’s place. Staying out of sight, keeping the lights off at night so no one can spot him. He’s even sleeping in the barn with the animals to make sure no big cat comes a-hunting. He hikes back to his place up the river when he needs supplies.”