Yarn Over Murder

by Maggie Sefton

  Kelly stared at her friend in surprise. “You are kidding? And the cops haven’t spotted him?”

  “Nope. Dennis is a mountain man. He knows how to stay out of sight in the bushes and trees. He stays off the road and moves around at night. When he has to go to his place, he hikes back at night, sleeps some, then goes back to her ranch before dawn. And, frankly, the police are too damn busy to care. The firefighters are volunteers who live up there, and they’re off fighting the fire or keeping watch so it doesn’t come into the Poudre again. Besides, everybody up there knows Dennis. And they all must have heard about Andrea, or will soon. Word spreads around police and firemen.” Jayleen opened the refrigerator and took out a large glass pitcher of iced tea. She grabbed two glasses from the nearby cabinet and poured both glasses full. “I’ll bet they all figure that Dennis is taking care of Andrea’s livestock, and they’re leaving him the hell alone.”

  “Wow,” was all Kelly could say as she pictured Dennis Holt hiking a few miles at night in the dark and back again. Taking care of his ex-wife’s alpacas . . . and Jayleen’s.

  “Besides, police can’t force anyone to evacuate. If you stay you assume the risk, knowing firemen won’t put their forces in jeopardy to rescue you.”

  Kelly gratefully accepted the icy glass, condensation appearing already on the warm surface. Even in air-conditioned homes, the heat crept inside. Normally she didn’t drink iced tea. But a couple of years ago, she’d tried Jayleen’s sweet tea and found it was delicious, much to her surprise.

  “Thanks, I need this.” Kelly drained the glass, the icy cold sweet tea flavor quenching a thirst she’d ignored all the way from Lambspun.

  Jayleen smiled and refilled her glass. “That’s a long drive over here in the heat. Drink up.”

  Kelly did as she suggested, draining half the glass this time. Ahh. “Boy, that hit the spot. I didn’t know how thirsty I was.”

  She glanced around the warm, inviting Stackhouse kitchen, with its sunshine yellow walls and wide counters.

  “Wow, sleeping in the barn, keeping watch over the herd at night. That means he must have his shotgun with him. The first time I saw Dennis Holt was when Jennifer and I discovered the body of Jennifer’s client Fred Turner in his cabin up the Poudre. I was standing on the cabin front porch while Jennifer was in the yard calling police about finding her real estate client dead. Shot in the head. I glanced around and spotted this shaggy-looking guy hiding in the bushes beside the cabin, obviously eavesdropping. And he had a shotgun over his arm.”

  Jayleen grinned and pulled out a chair at the rectangular kitchen table. “That would be Dennis, all right. Have a seat, Kelly girl.”

  Kelly responded to the familiar nickname that Jayleen had started using years ago. It always made Kelly feel good inside for some reason. “I figured. Boy, that’s devotion to duty. And you said Andrea divorced him, right? So their relationship must have stayed amicable.”

  “Oh, yeah. Dennis used to have a drinking problem, and when he drank he’d pick a fight with Andrea and yell. Well, she finally had enough and divorced him. That was the shock Dennis needed. I offered to take him with me to AA meetings. And thank the Lord, he agreed. And he’s been sober for over three years. Once he stopped drinking, Andrea would at least talk to him again.” Jayleen lifted her glass in salute and took a drink of tea.

  “I love to hear stories like that,” Kelly said with a smile, raising her glass as well. “To Dennis. Not everyone can change their lives like that. It takes courage and determination.”

  “And prayer.” Jayleen raised her glass again. “That’s one of AA’s mottoes. One day at a time. Hand it over to a Higher Power.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” Kelly said with a wink.

  “Yeah, Dennis was hoping he’d eventually be able to convince Andrea to give him a second chance. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that Andrea had already kind of moved on, you could say. Of course, once he saw her with Jim Carson, well, that gave Dennis quite a jolt.” She sipped. “Dennis and I talked the day before the Wool Market, and he asked if I needed any help bringing animals up to the Estes Park fairgrounds. I asked how he was doing, and he admitted he was having a hard time getting over seeing Andrea with another man. Dennis still had that dream he and Andrea would get back together.”

  “Now you’ve made me sad. Poor Dennis.” Then something she remembered Jayleen saying earlier came back into her mind. “You said that Dennis thought he felt a pulse and drove Andrea down the canyon where he met up with some paramedics. And they confirmed that she was dead. What happened then? Did they take her to the hospital? Did Dennis go with her?

  Jayleen shook her head. “Dennis said the paramedics took all his information, then told him they’d call an ambulance to take her body to the hospital. They were already on their way up the canyon. Someone was having a problem breathing with all the smoke and they had emphysema, so it was critical.”

  “Could Dennis take her?”

  “He offered, but they told him not to. They said the ambulance would be there soon, and it was. Dennis said he only waited ten minutes. Andrea’s place is not far from the mouth of the canyon. Dennis said the ambulance guys practically ordered him to get back to his property in the canyon in case the fire spread. He’d be of more use there. Sure enough, flames crossed over the ridge from Bellevue Canyon a couple of hours later.” She gave a crooked smile. “Turns out that was good advice. There was nothing Dennis or anyone could do for Andrea. So he said he went back to his place and gathered his things so he could stay at Andrea’s ranch and take care of the animals.”

  “He’s lucky he took their advice. Otherwise he might not have gotten back into Poudre Canyon. Cops started evacuating people later that night once the fire started down the ridge.”

  “That’s right, and they closed the road. Dennis said he left his car parked at his house and took off with a backpack, going in the dark through the trees along the river. It’s a couple of miles down the river from his place to Andrea’s. By the time he got there, he saw the fire crest the south ridge into Poudre Canyon. He dumped his gear in the brush, then rushed back to Poudre Park to help any way he could. Water brigades, whatever. Ran most of the way back, if you can believe.” Jayleen wagged her head then took a sip of tea.

  “Good Lord,” Kelly said, amazed by Dennis’s stamina. “He really is a mountain man.”

  “Then just before dawn, he disappeared into the brush and hiked back to his place. Laid low outside in the bushes far enough away from the house, so he could watch when cops came to search for people. Once they cleared out and headed down the road, he was able to creep back and let himself into his house. When it turned dark later that night, he hiked over to Andrea’s.”

  Kelly leaned her chin on her hand, listening to this adventure story. “How far away was the wildfire? Wasn’t he in danger of it spreading toward Andrea’s place?”

  Jayleen shook her head. “No, Dennis said the fire swept over the ridge about a mile west of his place and didn’t get near his place or Andrea’s farther down the river. Thankfully, the flames also stayed on the other side of the road and didn’t cross over. So their side of the canyon was untouched.” Jayleen wagged her head in familiar fashion. “Lord, Lord. Those poor folks who were evacuated told me they were so scared. Forced out of their homes just before midnight Saturday night. Most weren’t even given time to grab more clothes or anything. Police ordered them out to save their lives. Nobody wanted people getting trapped by the fire. So they had to run with nothing, just the clothes on their backs.” Jayleen rose to fetch the pitcher of iced tea, then poured some more into Kelly’s glass and hers.

  Kelly took a long drink. “That really does sound like something you’d see in a movie. They must have been scared to death.”

  “Oh, they were. They didn’t have any time to save things. I was lucky. All of you folks and other friends showed up to help Curt and
me load things from the house. I swear, I think the entire contents of my file cabinet are downstairs in Curt’s basement. But that was when the fire was first starting in Bellevue Canyon. It got out of control fast, so firefighters weren’t taking any chances with people’s lives.”

  “What will happen with Andrea? Did she have any family around?”

  “No, Andrea had lost both her mom and dad years ago. Dennis will have to make any decisions about a funeral and all that. But anything like that will sit on the back burner because of the wildfire.”

  “How’s he contacting you? Cell phone?”

  Jayleen shook her head again and took a sip of tea. “No. Andrea’s ranch house has a landline which is reliable. As opposed to all those fancy smartphones.” She grinned.

  “Well, that’s true. We’re always losing the signal every time we go up into the canyons.”

  At that moment, Kelly’s phone started buzzing with another text message. She dug it out of her cutoff jeans pocket. “Message from Greg. He’s been keeping track of the Soldier Canyon fire from his university office window. Oh, thank goodness. He says that the wildfire that spread over the ridge into Soldier Canyon is out. No more flames. Yay, firemen!” Kelly raised her arms in victory.

  “Praise be,” Jayleen said, closing her eyes for a second. “Let’s give those folks a toast.” And she raised her glass of sweet tea high. “To the firefighters!”

  “Oh, yeah!” Kelly joined, glass held high. “And keep ’em coming!”

  • • •

  Steve took a bite of pizza and closed his eyes, clearly enjoying it. After swallowing, he said, “I can’t tell you how relieved I was to see only a little smoke coming up from that Soldier Canyon spot as I drove back into town.” He sank into the lawn chair and took a drink of Fat Tire ale.

  Kelly grabbed another slice of pesto pizza from the box on the glass table in the center of Lisa and Greg’s patio. The entire gang plus Cassie had gathered for a quick dinner to compare wildfire stories they’d each heard during the day. Kelly wished she could tell Dennis Holt’s dramatic adventure but she was sworn to secrecy.

  “You and me both,” Marty said. “I had to go over to Greeley this afternoon and the fire was still burning as I crossed over I-25. But they’d put it out by the time I drove back. Hallelujah!” He raised his bottle of craft beer. Everyone was toasting whatever small wildfire victories they could.

  “A few people on our floor in the IT labs live up the Poudre, and they said firefighters literally woke them up knocking on their doors late Saturday night. They could only grab their laptops and wallets. One girl grabbed her tablet, of course. Oh, and cell phones. Everybody took those.” Greg devoured the slice of pizza in his hand, then reached across the table for another, rustling in the cardboard box.

  “Isn’t it amazing how the first thing we think about taking is our computers and devices?” Lisa said

  “It’s the world we live in,” Megan said, sipping her ale.

  “I agree. My laptop would be the first thing I’d grab. And my wallet. Gotta keep track of clients’ money.” Kelly grinned as she leaned back in her chair.

  “Ever the accountant,” Pete said with a smile.

  “It’s a dirty job, but—” Kelly started, then everybody chimed in to finish.

  “—somebody has to do it.” They all laughed, causing Cassie to look over from where she was lying on the shaded area of grass beside the patio reading a book. The canopy threw a fair amount of shade.

  “Why’s accounting a dirty job?” she asked with a smile. “I’ve seen Kelly’s spreadsheets, and they’re all super neat and clean.”

  “Out of the mouths of babes,” Kelly said with a smile, saluting Cassie with her glass.

  “We love accountants in my business, Cassie,” Marty announced, with his trademark smile. “They know where the money is and keep track of where it’s going. And most people don’t pay attention. That’s why people who decide to steal other people’s money often get away with it. For a while, anyway. Then, someone gets suspicious and calls in the accountants. They’re the bloodhounds who find out what the thieves are up to. And that’s when they’re caught.”

  “And that’s when you guys get to earn exorbitant fees to represent those sleazeballs in court,” Greg said.

  “Hey, it’s a dirty job, but . . .” Marty paused as everyone groaned.

  Cassie giggled. “Are any of those bloodhounds related to the ones in this book?” She turned several pages at the front of the book she was reading. “What are Baskervilles?”

  “Beats me,” Steve said with a good-natured grin, taking another sip of ale.

  “I think it’s named after someplace in England,” Kelly offered.

  “Cassie has discovered Sherlock Holmes,” Jennifer said.

  “Ooh, great!” Megan enthused. “So you’re reading The Hound of the Baskervilles? Excellent.”

  “It’s really good so far. I love Doctor Watson. Holmes is totally weird, though.”

  “I think Holmes is supposed to be weird,” Lisa said. “It helps him solve cases.”

  “The guy’s a freaking genius,” Greg intoned. “That’s what solves those cases. Just keep reading.”

  “Are those your books, Pete?” Marty asked, peering at Cassie, who had already returned to 221B Baker Street.

  “She’d really enjoyed some of the other mysteries she was reading, so I thought she might like Sherlock.” He grinned. “She’s had her nose in the book ever since.”

  “Are those some of your engraved editions?” Steve asked, clearly incredulous.

  Pete gave a genial nod. “Yeah. She’s good with books.”

  Kelly and her friends simply laughed quietly in the still bright light of a summer evening, while Cassie disappeared into Victorian England.

  Six

  Tuesday, June 12

  “Look, Carl. Squirrels are on the run,” Kelly said to her Rottweiler as he dashed across the cottage backyard.

  Carl raced to the fence just as Brazen Squirrel, the leader of the bunch, landed and scampered like mad along the top rail. The low-hanging branch of a nearby cottonwood tree beckoned several feet away. For a minute, Kelly thought her dog might actually get to Brazen before Brazen could get to the cottonwood branch. She was wondering how to handle that occurrence, fairly certain Carl would be so surprised that he caught Brazen he’d probably drop the wily creature in shock. More likely, Brazen would sink sharp squirrel teeth into Big Dog’s nose—such a tempting target—and Carl would yelp in pain and, once again, drop Brazen.

  Kelly needn’t have worried. Brazen turned on his after-burners and shot down the fence rail in a blazing burst of squirrel speed. Impressive, she thought with a smile, watching Carl resort to his usual behavior when Brazen had escaped his clutches—again. Carl stood on his hind legs, front paws on the fence rail, and barked doggie threats at Brazen, who dangled just out of reach on the cottonwood branch and fussed in chattering squirrel speak to his nemesis.

  “He was just too quick for you, Carl. Next time,” Kelly promised as she slid the patio door closed to keep the hot air outside. The heat was starting to build, so she would spend the day inside working in Lambspun’s comfortable temperatures.

  Finding her coffee mug, Kelly drained the last drop of morning coffee. Then she loaded her laptop into her shoulder bag, checked to make sure Carl had enough water in his bowls, then grabbed her empty mug and headed out the cottage front door. She could get some client work done before leaving for the softball fields to teach her clinic for young teenagers.

  Once outside, Kelly walked across the parking lot and gazed westward across the golf course greens. Like many of the golfers who were out in the early morning already, she couldn’t resist the frequent temptation to gaze at the foothills to make sure she didn’t see where another fire had broken out, whipped by that ever-present wind. Thank goodness, she
didn’t see any. But the wind was still gusting every now and then.

  Kelly walked toward the outside patio garden of the café wondering when that wind would die down. Firefighters from all over and teams of Hot Shots were pouring into Fort Connor. But if that wind didn’t die down, they would all be fighting a losing battle. As soon as they contained one hot spot, the wind would fling more flames and cinders to a new area and it would ignite. It was almost as if Nature was working against them. The wildfire had grown to forty thousand acres.

  She spotted waitress Julie serving breakfast to a foursome at a shaded table outside. Kelly waited until Julie had finished with her customers before calling her name.

  “Hey, Julie, I’m glad to see you made it back,” she said, hastening along the flagstone path. “You really had a long journey to get to Fort Connor.”

  “You can say that again,” Julie said, rolling her eyes. “It took forever. My friend drove and we had to go all the way from Steamboat on Route 40 to Kremmling then east to Granby. Then we took Route 34 into Estes Park, then back into Fort Connor.” She started clearing dishes off a nearby table, empty of customers.

  “How long did it take you?”

  “Seemed like forever,” Julie said with a laugh. “We left Steamboat Sunday afternoon and got to Granby late that night. We were exhausted, so we bunked in at a motel, then headed out Monday morning.”

  Kelly walked beside her as Julie started toward the café back door. “That must have cost a lot more in gas, too.”

  “Ohh, yeah. I had to hit the ATM as soon as we got into town.”

  Julie sped up the back steps to the café, and Kelly followed her inside. As soon as she entered, Kelly inhaled the familiar and enticing aromas floating through the air. Breakfast. Kelly’s favorite meal. Even though Kelly knew she’d regret it, she followed Julie toward the grill and the kitchen. She saw Eduardo flipping cheesy scrambled eggs over and under, his spatula somehow keeping them creamy rather than turning them into an omelet. How did he manage that? Whenever Kelly tried it, it became an omelet.