Murder Wears Mittens

by Sally Goldenbaum

  “Dolores’s anger that day makes perfect sense now,” Birdie said. “She realized Hannah was using good people’s money—money intended for other good people—for her own needs, whatever they were.”

  “Even if she hadn’t been heard confessing, an accountant going through everything would quickly have discovered the theft.” Ben got up and carried the coffeepot around, refilling cups, but Cass and Danny declined. Cass stood and stretched.

  “Things to do?” Izzy grinned.

  Danny grabbed his jacket and grinned back. “We’re busy folks.”

  “I don’t know why any of us are sitting around like this,” Nell said, her voice rather stern. “It’s Friday after all.”

  Cass laughed. “Friday. Sure. Dinner on the deck.” She looked through the window. “Outside, right?”

  “Absolutely,” Ben said. “Talked to the weather gods myself. This might be the last good one, so we’re going to make the most of it.”

  “I think we can manage that,” Birdie said. “I feel a vibe that says we’ll have a crowd tonight. Who knows, I may even dance.”

  Ben bowed slightly and asked if he could be the first on her dance card.

  They all felt the vibe. The coming together of friends as they moved out of a dark, angry and fearful place. Together they’d make the world bright again.

  “So scat, all of you,” Nell said, her eyes shining. She’d keep them all right there for the rest of their lives if she could. But if they didn’t leave, they couldn’t come back. Nor could she get the house cleaned and things ready for Friday night on the deck. And there was plenty to do.

  She smiled, then picked up her Abby and together they waved them all away. Until they came back.

  Chapter 35

  Cass stood on the bedroom deck of her house. It was just up the hill from the Canary Cove Art Colony. She loved this house. Warm, simple, and open to the sea. A small island in one direction, the bustle and lights of the harbor in another. And everywhere in between was the ocean she loved.

  She was a water child. Like her father. Strong, fluid—and moody. But mostly what she felt right now was fluid. Time didn’t stop for people; it just kept going.

  It didn’t stop for a mother like Kayla with two beautiful kids, wanting to block out bad things and sit on the beach with her kids, feeding gulls and jumping waves and making time stop. But it didn’t. So you had to move with it. You had to love the days you were given and move on to the next. She wasn’t sure at all why the Stewart kids had gotten to her, and why they—not Aristotle—had made her examine her life. But they had. And she wanted to make it worth living.

  The sun was slowly sinking, the harbor lights reflecting off the water like slender dancers. Cass felt a sudden urge to dance herself. Dance? She laughed and walked back inside, closing the double doors behind her. She’d danced once today already. Maybe that’s exactly what she’d do, dance her way across the Endicott deck.

  It had been an amazing day already. It might as well end with dancing.

  Charlie had called early that morning. He was taking Christopher and Sarah Grace to the playground, occupying them while Kayla had her meeting with Ben and the police.

  “Grab Abby and join us,” he’d said. “The kids would love it.”

  So she had. She loved Izzy’s brother and being with him this morning seemed the right thing to do. After the playground, they’d walked down to the pier and found Pete fiddling with his guitar on one of the Halloran lobster boats.

  In no time, Pete had balanced himself at the bow of the lobster boat and begun to play old jazzy tunes, while the kids frolicked and danced along the dock, hair blowing and hands grasped in circles until Cass finally collapsed in laughter, a pile of kids on top of her.

  And then she’d scooped up Abby and headed to Ben and Nell’s to meet the others. To have coffee. To be sure Kayla was going to be fine.

  The ping of her phone now pulled her back to the darkening sky and she walked across the room to her dresser. She knew before checking that the text would be from Izzy. It was the fifth one in the last hour. Come now! it read. You won’t believe tonight’s dinner.

  Cass shook her head. Everything was urgent for Izzy, but Cass had a few things to do, including picking up Birdie on her way to the Endicotts’. Friday nights were special, sure.

  Birdie and I will be there soon, she texted back. We wouldn’t miss it.

  Another ping. Another text. Cass laughed out loud at Izzy’s persistence. But this text was from Birdie, suggesting that if Cass was stuck in the Laundromat again—like that night a lifetime ago—perhaps she should find another ride to tonight’s Friday night dinner?

  It was Birdie’s gentle way of saying, “Pick me up, Catherine. Now.”

  Cass texted Birdie back that she was on her way. She hurried down to the kitchen and picked up her bag. Keys, keys, where? She spotted them on the counter, wrapped her fingers around them tightly, and headed for the door.

  Another ping. Geesh, Izzy, I’m coming!

  But this time it was Danny.

  Her Danny. And instead of words he’d sent another smiley face to her phone, a dopey one that made Cass laugh. The gifted writer Danny Brandley was sending her a dopey face.

  She loved it. And him. And she had let him know that before he’d left the house a short while earlier. He’d had a grin on his face when he’d walked out the door, looking remarkably like the one she was staring at on her phone.

  She’d watched him through the window as he’d headed toward his car. He’d looked up at the sky, thrown his hands in the air, and given a cheer.

  She had heard him, through the crack of an open window. He’d turned around, knowing Cass would be watching, and waved, blown a kiss, and shouted that he’d see her soon.

  Ben was grilling up something special, he’d said.

  She looked down at the emoticon again, grinned, and checked her watch. And then she yelped.

  She really was late now. Nell had said she, Izzy, and Birdie should come early. Ben was going all out, grilling lobster with an amazing orange sauce. With Pernod, Nell said. They’d love it.

  There would be a merry crowd, one looking forward to ending days of unrest for some, sadness and fear for others.

  Minutes later Cass was in the car, her foot to the pedal and headed toward Birdie’s house. The window was down and her hair blew wildly while a sliver of a moon appeared above the horizon, guiding her way. The night was about to begin.

  * * *

  Charlie Chambers met them at the door when Birdie and Cass walked in. “Izzy’s upstairs. She wants to see you both. Now,” he said. “Gads, what a taskmaster my sister can be. She’s being weird tonight.”

  In the distance Cass spotted Danny. He glanced over and grinned at her, looking again like the goofy emoticon he’d sent her earlier.

  She started to follow Birdie upstairs, and then glanced over the railing at a face in the distance, smiling at her. A slight wave followed.

  Kayla Stewart stood alone near the family room fireplace.

  Charlie brought Kayla—what do you know. Great. Her first Friday night on the deck. It seemed significant, somehow, that it was tonight. Not far from Kayla, Christopher and Sarah Grace were laughing as Gabby and Daisy taught them a silly dance. She smiled back at Kayla and started to turn, then saw out of the corner of her eye that Kayla was coming her way.

  “Cass?” Kayla’s voice was hesitant, her green eyes huge.

  “Hi, Kayla. I’m glad you’re here,” Cass said. “Ben’s Friday night dinners are the best.”

  “I wanted to thank you,” she said quickly, as if hesitation might doom what she had to say. Her smile was still there, but her eyes, large and luminous, glistened with emotion.

  “Thank me?”

  She nodded slowly. “You cared about Chrissie that awful night. You cared about our lives, the kids and me. You and your friends started it all. The whole thing—everything. The road to making it all better. My kids are safe now. And happy.” She l
ooked over as Sarah Grace’s giggles reached the stairs. “I am too—or at least on my way. And it’s because of you. Thank you.”

  She reached out and gave Cass a quick, light hug.

  But the feeling it left with Cass was profound. She gave her a quick one back, then blinked away the moisture in her eyes and said with a shrug, “Hey, Kayla, no problem. That’s what we do here.”

  Then she turned and bounded up the stairs, Izzy’s voice calling her from above.

  * * *

  Ben had fastened the front door open with a ceramic lobster, then corralled Charlie and Sam into helping with martinis and uncorking wine. The kitchen island was already filled with platters of appetizers, and plates, and outside the deck was a sea of festivity, with small candles on the old picnic table, pots of fall flowers everywhere, and drinks flowing.

  Gabby had decided they needed lights tonight and climbed up into the maple tree with Daisy standing below, handing her strands of tiny white Christmas lights.

  “Festive enough?” she asked Sister Fiona, who smiled her agreement. After the weeks they’d had, celebration and festivity were good in whatever form. A glass of wine would be, too, and Fiona took the one her sister-in-law, Mary Halloran, handed her. They’d both come at Father Northcutt’s insistence. They deserved a night off, he said, and dinner on the Endicott deck was the perfect place.

  Fiona spotted Kayla just inside the door. Charlie was at her side, teasing the kids about something and making Kayla a part of the noisy crowd. She hadn’t wanted to come, but Charlie had insisted, and Fiona could tell she was happy she had. Watching the smiles on Christopher and Sarah Grace’s faces as they spun around the deck with Daisy and Gabby left no room not to be.

  “Where’s Nell?” Jane Brewster asked Ben. She carried a bouquet of flowers out to the deck.

  Ben looked around. “Nellie? I saw her a few minutes ago. Seems we’re more folks than usual tonight. Maybe she went out for more beer.” He grinned and Jane frowned back at him. “Ben Endicott, what’s up with you?”

  But Ben disappeared before she got an answer.

  Pete Halloran had brought his guitar and was leaning against the railing calling Gabby and Daisy to his side. “Hey, you two. Tell me what songs you know,” he said, and they quickly settled down on the steps with him, arranging a whole medley.

  “Where’re Izzy and Cass?” Fiona asked no one in particular.

  Birdie seemed to have disappeared, too.

  Finally, Ben walked over to Pete, who had been joined by his Fractured Fish bandmates, and suggested some music would be in order. He’d give them the sign.

  After ushering everyone out to the deck and quieting folks down for a toast, he gave the sign. With the amplifier doing its job, the Fractured Fish tuned up, Pete strumming, Andy on the drums, and singer Merry Jackson flicking the microphone as the crowd looked their direction and the music began.

  At first they just strummed and drummed, Merry humming along, but at Ben’s nod, the chords took shape and Merry and Pete began singing, their voices full:

  Every day, it’s a-gettin’ closer

  Goin’ faster than a roller coaster—

  The guests began looking around, unsure if they should be quiet and listen or settle back and enjoy the martinis and the wine, the food, the company.

  It was Mary Halloran, Cass’s mom, who suddenly broke into smiles that filled her small Irish face. And then, with tears streaming down her face, she rushed over to Archie and Harriet Brandley, Danny’s parents.

  “Look,” she said, pushing them around until they faced the doors to the house.

  They looked.

  And then they looked again, at three women standing in the open French doorway.

  Izzy and Birdie and Nell, arms linked, dressed in simple black dresses with colorful knit scarves, lacy and loose, floating freely from their shoulders. They smiled all around and then began walking, clearing a path through the center of the deck as the band sang on. Smiling at each other. At their guests. And at the Fractured Fish as they took the music up a beat.

  Then Mary Halloran’s tears began to flow in earnest.

  Heads turned and the crowd shuffled noisily, everyone standing now and looking around.

  Then Cass and Danny appeared in the doorway, their hips touching and their hands twined tightly together. Danny in slacks and a white shirt open at the collar, Cass’s dark hair flowing loose over a simple black silk dress, a single peach-colored rose in her hand.

  The crowd hushed as they realized a wedding was about to happen, and they parted like the sea to give Cass and Danny the room they needed.

  Cass paused when she neared her mother, now hanging on Sister Fiona’s arm for balance and composure. Cass handed her the rose and gave her a kiss. And then she wiped a tear from her mother’s cheek before she and Danny continued on their way, over to a spot near the old maple tree, where Father Northcutt was waiting, his prayer book in hand and a blessing on his lips.

  As the short ceremony was about to come to a close, Ben walked up beside Nell and wrapped her close. “Away with the sadness,” Ben whispered in her ear.

  Nell nodded, and at that moment, Cass motioned to her brother, and the band began to play again—big, full, and happy sounds. It was the song she’d picked for her Danny, the words going all the way up to the moon.

  A song about dreams and love and living.

  The band sang and the crowd clapped. Arms waved.

  And Danny and Cass began to dance, their hands reaching for the sky, their hearts full and their voices singing about the best day in their lives.

  The crowd joined in, singing and clapping and promising right along with them that they wouldn’t look back.

  There was a new day ahead.

  No limits, just epiphanies.

  Acknowledgments

  My village of help and support and inspiration for Murder Wears Mittens is varied and wonderful, person after person after person. And to each of them I offer great thanks.

  Caitlin Taggart at the Johnson County Library, Corinth branch, helped me understand the levels of Internet security in place for patrons using library computers. Without her guidance I might have allowed the Seaside Knitters to shamefully and illegally invade Dolores Cardozo’s library computer account, not a good move for our admirable women of Sea Harbor. In addition, I owe a thanks to the library systems in our dual state areas—Kansas City Missouri (particularly the Plaza branch), and the Johnson County Kansas libraries (with applause to my Corinth neighborhood branch). They’ve provided me a frequent home away from home, my office and my refuge during the writing of the Seaside Knitters Society mysteries.

  The folks at Kensington Publishing—especially my editor, Wendy McCurdy, and also Norma Perez-Hernandez, who have welcomed me into the Kensington fold graciously—and made me feel like I’ve been there a long time. I’m looking forward to getting to know the entire staff who have helped bring this book to life.

  The pattern in the back of the book was designed by Adrienne Ku, a talented designer who generously allowed me to reprint her pattern for top-down socks for my readers. (And who provided helpful tips for Nell as she maneuvered her way around the heel.)

  My forever gratitude to Nancy Pickard, who spent a huge chunk of her Christmas vacation reading this book and offering invaluable suggestions, advice, insight, and encouragement (along with Godiva chocolates, André’s lunches, and healing doses of humor at just the right moments). And my thanks as always to Mary Bednarowski and Sister Rosemary Flanigan, who are my perpetual springboards for all kinds of murderous ideas—as well as reminders of the goodness in everyone.

  And my husband, Don, who’s always there with ideas and hand-holding, and who doesn’t mind (too much) eating frozen dinners for endless nights in a row.

  Simple Skyp Socks By Adrienne Ku

  ABBREVIATIONS

  K—knit

  K2tog—knit 2 stitches together

  N—needle, N1 = needle #1

  P—purl />
  P2tog—purl 2 stitches together

  R—round/row

  RS—right side

  Skyp—slip 1 stitch purl-wise with yarn in back, knit 1 stitch, yarn over, pass slipped stitch over the last two stitches (k1 and yo)

  Sl1—slip 1 stitch purl-wise

  Ssk—slip 2 stitches individually knit-wise, knit these 2 sts together through back loops

  St/Sts—stitch/stitches

  WS—wrong side

  Yo—yarn over

  MATERIALS

  Sport weight yarn: The designer used Blue Moon Fiber Arts, Socks that Rock Medium weight yarn (380 yards, 5.5 oz.) in Lagoon, 1 skein.

  US Size #2 double point needles (or size needed to obtain gauge)

  Stitch marker (optional)

  Tapestry needle

  Gauge—7 sts = 1 inch in stockinette stitch

  Size—Men’s X-Small [Small, Medium Large]. 7” [8”, 9”, 10”] circumference

  PATTERN

  Cast on 48 [56, 64, 72] sts, join in the round being careful not to twist sts. Place marker to indicate beginning of round.

  CUFF

  R1—(K2, p2) repeat to end of round.

  Repeat R1 for a total of 10 rounds.

  Purl 1 round.

  LEG

  R1—(K6, p2) repeat to end of round.

  R2—(K2, Skyp, k2, p2) repeat to end of round.

  Work R1-R2 a total of 24 times (or to desired leg length).

  Work R1 once more to 1 [0, 5, 3] sts before end of round. Small size only (56 sts)—remove stitch marker, knit 1st st of next round.

  This will be the new beginning of round (row). Remove end of round marker when you come to it while working the heel flap.

  HEEL—FLAP

  The heel flap is worked back and forth over the next 24 [28, 32, 36] sts. Place remaining 24 [28, 32, 36] sts on a stitch holder or scrap of yarn to be held for the instep.

  R1—(Sl1, k1) repeat to end of row.

  R2—Sl1, purl to end of row.