by Mary Kruger
“Yeah, but we don’t need to let out all the details.”
Ari sighed. “I won’t say a word,” she said, and went inside, leaving him gazing thoughtfully after her. There was another reason he wanted to keep her here. She probably hadn’t seen what happened, but the murderer might not know that. If everyone stayed put, the police could keep track of them easier. He could keep his eye on her. There was a murderer on the loose, and again Ari was involved. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew more about what had happened than she realized.
Diane jumped all over Ari as soon as she came into the barn. “Ari! Is it true? Are you okay? Oh, look at you! You’re soaked.”
I’m fine.” Ari dropped onto the chair behind her table, feeling anything but fine. She was upset, shaken, and suddenly tired. She wanted nothing so much as to go home, put on her fleece robe, and curl up with a cup of tea.
“You’ve got to get out of those clothes.” Diane was taking off her jacket. “Take your parka off and put this on.”
“Thank you.” Ari snuggled gratefully into Diane’s warm coat, though her sodden slacks and shoes still made her shiver.
“Here, put this over you, too.” Someone tossed an afghan made of soft wool in jewel colors over her. Ari looked up to see a woman she didn’t recognize.
“I can’t use this,” Ari protested. “You’re selling it.”
“Not today. I’ll wash it when I get home.”
“Thank you. It’s nice of you.”
“We’re done for today,” Diane said gloomily. “Not that we were doing very well before.”
“What happened out there?” someone asked. “Is it true Felicia’s dead?”
Ari nodded. “Yes.”
“Was there really a needle through her throat?” someone else asked.
Ari remembered Josh’s admonition just in time. “There was a needle,” she said cautiously.
“Oh my God.” The words were repeated in a murmur of agreement that filled the barn. There were more people there than there had been, Ari noticed, as well as two patrolmen at the door. People from the other barns must have been escorted here, though she hadn’t noticed that when she was outside. But then, other, more important things had held her attention.
She shivered again, this time not from the cold. For the first time the enormity of what had happened hit her. Whoever had killed Felicia couldn’t be a stranger, not at a place where so many people had a common interest. In all likelihood, the killer was in this very building.
“You won’t get warm if you keep those wet pants on,” Diane said, mistaking the reason for Ari’s reaction. “Why don’t you take them off?”
Ari stared at her. “What?”
“I’ll hold up the afghan.”
“For God’s sake. No.”
“I’ll hold up the afghan,” she repeated. “Come on, Ari. No one will see.”
“Oh, all right.” Ari struggled out of her wet wool slacks behind the screen the afghan provided, and then wrapped the afghan around her again. “Oh, this is better.”
“This’ll help, too.” the woman who raised llamas handed Ari a thermos. “It’s coffee.”
“Thank you.” Ari drank deeply, and almost choked when she realized it was laced liberally with brandy. “My God!”
The woman smiled at her. “It’s the only way to keep warm today.”
“I guess!” The warmth of the drink spread through her. “Thank you. Thank you, everyone, for being so kind.”
“Why can’t you go home to change instead of staying here?” Diane asked.
Ari shook her head. Josh was right. She did know better. After a murder, until the police sorted out who had been where, and when, no one would be allowed to leave. “I’ll call my mother to bring me something.”
“Your mother?” Diane’s eyes danced. “She’ll give Chief Mason holy hell.”
Ari smiled for the first time since Felicia’s death and dug into her bag for her cell phone. “Yeah, I think she will.”
“Well, nothing’s going to happen for a while.” Diane pulled her chair over to her spinning wheel, picked up the wool, and began to spin it into yarn. As if that were a signal, the other people dispersed to their own tables or booths or, to Ari’s surprise, to the Sheep to Shawl enclosure. Those who had been herded here from other barns milled around aimlessly, looking lost, until gradually they found places to sit.
Ari picked up her project and then quickly dropped it. If the rayon yarn and the aluminum needles had felt cool to her before, now they were icy. “Why didn’t I bring a shawl to work on instead of this?” she complained.
“Maybe your mother will bring something.”
“I doubt it.”
She wronged her mother, though. A little while later a patrolman, his long black slicker dripping, crossed the barn, two large plastic bags in his hands. “The chief told me to give this to you,” he said, and left.
“Oh, bless her,” Ari said. She looked in one of the bags to see what her mother had sent and started to laugh. “Oh, Diane, look at this!” She held up a pair of wooden needles and a ball of rug yarn. “She wants me to make coat hangers.”
Diane grinned. Padded coat hangers, originally made by Ari’s aunt Laura, were something of a joke among Ari’s friends and family. Everyone Ari knew had a more than ample supply of them. “Where are you going to change?”
Ari emerged from under the afghan, where she’d struggled back into her damp slacks. No need to get the jeans her mother had sent wet before she had to. “I guess in the bathroom in the other barn,” she said, rising. “If they’ll let me.”
The patrolman standing guard at the door nodded when Ari made her request. Josh had apparently cleared the way for her. She slogged her way through the mud and the rain toward Barn A, thinking inevitably of Felicia. Why had she been killed in this particular place, at this particular time? She had made enemies, certainly, but since she rarely left New York, wouldn’t she have been a better target there? It didn’t make sense. But then, nothing about murder made sense.
Walking into Barn A was like walking into an interrogation room, Ari thought. Josh and Paul Bouchard, another detective, were sitting at the small luncheonette tables in the snack bar area. Across from them was one of the vendors, looking bewildered. Both of the detectives broke off as Ari came in and looked at her.
“I’m only going to change my clothes,” she said, holding up her bag.
“Yeah. I saw your mother,” Josh said.
“She let the chief have it,” Paul said, grinning. He glanced at Mason, who was talking on his cell phone. “Hey, you planning to make a habit of finding murder victims, Ari?”
“That’s enough.” Charlie’s voice was sharp as he flipped his phone closed, and his face was red. Since his color was usually high, Ari couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or not. Her mother, usually quiet, could be vociferous in defense of those she loved. “We’ve got things to do.”
Paul winked at Ari as she headed toward the ladies’ room, and then turned back to the vendor, who looked more confused than before. Ari felt for him. Soon they’d all come under the same scrutiny. Since there were so few police there, she suspected it would take a long time.
The restroom was small but adequate. Ari shivered as she stripped off her wet clothes. Bless her mother, she thought again as she looked in the bag and found not only clothes more suited to winter than to a supposed spring day, but a thick towel and her low hiking boots. There was even, luxury of luxuries, a hair dryer. Briefly she used it to blow hot air over her body, and then set to work on her hair. Without a round brush to smooth it, it dried into somewhat frizzy curls and waves. Finally, dressed in flannel-lined jeans, a cotton turtleneck, and a heavy Scandinavian sweater made by her grandmother, she walked out of the restroom, blessedly, deliciously warm.
Barn A had emptied while Ari was changing. Only Josh remained, sitting at a table with a brown cardboard cup of coffee before him. “Want one?” he asked.
“All righ
t,” she said, welcoming the delay in going out into the storm again. She plopped her elbows onto the worn green finish of the Formica-topped table, rocking slightly on the uneven chrome chair, and watched Josh. Behind the counter he did something with filters and small aluminum packets, and soon the enticing scent of fresh coffee filled the air.
“How’d you know how to do that?” she asked as he set another cardboard cup in front of her, his fingers just brushing hers as she reached for it.
He sat down again. “I worked as a short-order cook one summer.”
“Oh. So that’s where you learned to cook.” The coffee was too hot to drink just yet, but she held the cup anyway, for its warmth.
“No, but it got me started.”
“Where is everyone?”
“Outside. Someone from the ME’s office is here.”
“That was fast.”
“Apparently he was in the area already.”
“So you’ll be releasing the crime scene?”
He shook his head. “Not yet.”
“So this isn’t my official interview?”
“We’ll get to it.” He looked at her searchingly. “How are you?”
She kept her head down, avoiding his gaze. “I’m okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry for what I said before,” he said.
“About what?”
“About getting involved in these things, like it’s your fault.”
“Why does it happen to me, Josh?” she said, almost plaintively. “This is the second time. Except.” She closed her eyes. “Except this time she practically died right on me.”
“I know.” His hand covered hers for a moment, and then pulled back. That was the story of their relationship, she thought, from last fall to now. Sometimes they’d go out, for dinner or to a movie, and thoroughly enjoy themselves. They’d be laughing, talking, finishing each other’s sentences, and then, just as Ari was beginning to feel close to him, he’d pull back. Or she would. She liked Josh, and she knew he liked her. Of course, she still felt a little raw from her divorce. Maybe that was why they hadn’t progressed beyond friendship, at least on her part. She wasn’t sure of Josh’s reasons.
“I don’t understand it any more than you do.” He rubbed his hands over his forehead, as if he had a headache. He looked tired, Ari thought, and this investigation had hardly begun. “I didn’t expect anything like this when I left Boston. Two murders in a small town.”
“It’s usually so quiet and peaceful here. But, anyway.” Ari straightened. “I suppose you want to know about Felicia.”
Josh had taken out a steno notepad and a pencil. He was all business now, and she put aside the thought of anything more personal between them. Again. “Yeah. Everything. It’s all new to me again.” The wave of his hand encompassed the barn, and by extension, the entire festival.
“Well.” She folded her hands and sat silent for a moment, thinking. “I never could quite figure her out. She could be a b-…witch—but if you stood up to her she’d back off. I always got the feeling she was softer inside than she let on.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something in her eyes. I don’t know.”
“Did you stand up to her?”
“No, not really, but I never let her bother me, either. She actually acted human with me. Of course, I had nothing to lose with her.”
Josh looked up. “What do you mean?”
“How much do you know about her?”
“Not much.”
“She owned a knitting magazine called Knit It Up! It’s nothing like Vogue Knitting, but somehow she made it influential. She knew everyone, I think.”
“Meaning who?”
“Anyone who had anything to do with knitting or yarn. She knew who was designing what for which clothing company, she knew who was putting out a new book, she knew everyone at every magazine and every manufacturer. It gave her a lot of influence.”
“I’ll bet.”
“If she didn’t like something about someone’s design, that person was in trouble. If she did like it, then that designer’s career would go far.”
“How many people did she actually praise?”
“What makes you think there weren’t many?” she said in surprise.
“People like that enjoy their power, maybe too much sometimes.”
Ari nodded. “True, usually she was critical. But, you know, she was generally right.”
“Did she criticize you?”
“No, but she didn’t exactly gush over me, either.”
“Sounds like she might’ve made some enemies.”
“Oh, a lot,” she said, nodding in agreement. “A lot of people were terrified of her.”
“So there won’t be many who’re sorry she’s dead.”
“No.”
“Are you sorry, Ari?”
Ari opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment her cell phone rang. Saved by the bell, she thought, giving Josh a falsely apologetic smile as she flipped it open. He was only doing his job, she reminded herself. “Hello?”
“Ari, what the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?” a voice roared at her.
Ari winced and held the phone away from her ear. “And hello to you, too, Ted,” she said. “I can’t talk right now.”
“Why not?” Ted demanded.
She glanced at Josh, who had hooked his arm over the cracked red vinyl back of the chair. The two men were not exactly friends. “Detective Pierce is here.”
“Don’t tell him anything. I’m going to get you a lawyer.”
“I don’t need one, Ted.”
“Then I’ll come over myself. Don’t say anything until I do.”
“Ted, you can’t,” she protested. “What about Megan?”
“I’ll leave her with your mother.”
“Ted, no. How did you find out about what’s going on?”
“Your mother called,” he said after a minute.
She’d deal with her mother later, Ari thought. “And of course she suggested babysitting. No. Megan went through enough last time. I want to keep her out of it as long as I can.”
“Damn it, Ari,” Ted said, his voice softer. “You’re in trouble. What am I supposed to do?”
“The best thing you can do for me now is take care of Megan. Please. She looks forward to her weekends with you.”
“Ah, hell. All right. You’re right. But you call me if you need me, you hear me? And don’t say anything to that cop.”
“Thank you, Ted,” she said, and pressed the Off button on her phone. “Whew.”
“Is he coming?” Josh asked.
“That would be all I need. No, he’s going to stay with Megan instead.”
“I’ll bet he told you not to talk to me.”
“Yes.
“He might be right, you know.”
Ari raised her eyes to him in surprise. “Why? I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I know, but I think you should be careful anyway.”
“Why?”
He leaned closer to her. “We’re not going to have control of the investigation much longer. The Freeport police, I mean.”
“What? Why not?”
“The chief’s called in the state police for help.”
Ari’s eyes went wide. “Really?”
“Yeah. We need help on this, and, Ari, they don’t know you.”
Ari nodded, remembering that last fall Josh hadn’t known or trusted her, either. “You and the chief can vouch for me.”
“Yeah, but this is the second time you’ve been involved in something like this, Ari. Of course they’re going to suspect you, especially since no one saw you after you left this barn. No one did, did they?” he added.
“Not so far as I know, but the rain was coming down so hard that I didn’t even see Felicia until she was almost on top of me.”
“Mm.” He looked down at his notebook. “What else do you know about the victim? Family? F
riends?”
“She’s married. Her husband’s older than she is.”
“How old was she, by the way?”
“I don’t know. Midfifties, I’d guess, wouldn’t you?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Oh. No, of course not. She has no children. And friends?” She shrugged. “She didn’t let anyone get close enough.”
That made him look up. “Is that something you know for a fact?”
“No, just an impression. Josh, when you asked about enemies, I think you should know…”
“What?” he asked when she didn’t go on.
“There aren’t many people who knew her well, so far as I know. Only Debbie Patrino and Beth Marley.”
“And they are?”
“Beth used to be Felicia’s assistant. Debbie is her current assistant.”
“Did Beth quit?”
“Well…” Ari hesitated and then plunged in. “You’ll hear about this anyway, so you might as well hear my version. There was a fight,” she began, and went on to relate all that had happened today between Beth and Felicia, and the reasons for the confrontation. When she was finished, Josh sat back, looking thoughtful.
“Where was Beth before Mrs. Barr was killed?”
“I don’t know. Josh, this is a big place and people could be anywhere.”
“Yeah, but the weather would keep them inside. What about Debbie Patrino?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything against her, Josh.”
“Does she get control of the magazine now that Felicia’s dead?”
“I don’t know. I imagine Felicia’s husband has some say in it.”
Josh capped his pen and rose. “Yeah, we’re going to talk to him. He’s on his way here.”
“Is he?” Ari said, getting up as well. “Oh, poor Winston.”
Josh turned from the door, which he’d been about to open. “You know him personally?”
“I met him once. He’s a dear. Very old world, very charming. And he doted on Felicia,” she said in some surprise. “I don’t think I realized that before.”
“Where did you meet him?”
“At a party Felicia gave for the magazine’s fifth anniversary. At their apartment. What a place, Josh.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s in one of the old buildings on Central Park West, with a doorman and Art Deco decorations everywhere. It actually has two floors, with a spiral staircase.”
