Knit Fast, Die Young

by Mary Kruger

  “That sounds like money.”

  “Serious money. I think most of it is Winston’s.” She looked up at Josh. “I don’t think Felicia was all bad, Josh.”

  “Most people aren’t.” He opened the door for her, and then paused. “Look, Ari.”

  “What?”

  “I want you to be careful.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said impatiently. “You’ve already told me.”

  “I know you, Ari. You’ll want to be involved in this.”

  “Oh, no, not this time. I’ll leave it to the police.”

  “Ha. Don’t forget there’s a murderer loose.”

  “Josh, no one’s going to go after me.”

  “Well, just make sure you’re never alone.”

  Considering how many people were there, Ari thought she could reassure him on that point. “I won’t be.”

  “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  That made her look at him. “Nothing will, Josh.”

  “Good,” he said, and again briefly touched her hand. “You’d better go.”

  “Yes,” she said, and turned, flinching as wind blew needle-sharp rain into her face. Had Josh just spoken to her as a cop, or as someone personally concerned about her? She couldn’t tell. Anyway, she thought as she hurried back to the main barn, she really did have no intention of getting involved in this investigation. Once was enough.

  The scene in Barn B was less chaotic than it had been when Ari left. Vendors, back at their tables or wandering around the barn, chatted with each other, examining yarn or spinning wheels or other equipment. One woman was showing a customer, who’d had the bad luck to be present when Felicia died, how to carry one color of yarn behind another for Fair Isle knitting. The spinning wheels of the women in the shawl competition spun so fast that their spokes were a blur. The loom treadles made a continuous thumping sound. It was almost as if nothing had happened, Ari thought as she sat beside Diane again.

  “You were gone awhile,” Diane commented.

  “I was talking to Josh.”

  “Anything new?”

  Ari, mindful of Josh’s warning, shook her head. “They’re calling in the staties to help out. They’ve got to question everyone,” she said.

  “Well, duh. I knew that. That knitting needle didn’t get stuck in Felicia’s back by itself.”

  Ari started to answer, to correct her, and then stopped herself. Diane was her oldest friend, and Ari could trust her, but someone else could overhear. “Mm.”

  Diane looked at her suspiciously. “Ari, is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “No, of course not—oh, look. Chief Mason’s here.”

  Chief Mason had stepped in beside the patrolman and now stood there, his hand raised. “Folks,” he called, his voice booming through the cavernous barn. “Can I have your attention, please?”

  “Now what?” Diane muttered as people around them shushed each other.

  “Settle down, okay? Okay. Now.” He stood with his legs slightly apart and his face stern, not at all the genial man Ari knew, but very much someone in charge. “You’ve all heard what’s happened here,” he said. “You all know that someone has died. Now, wait.” He held up his hand again and the buzzing caused by his words subsided. “If it was natural causes, there’d be no problem, but it’s a suspicious death. We gotta question all of you about it.”

  Again the voices buzzed, and this time Charlie had to raise his voice to be heard. “People! Can we have silence, please? Good. Now. I know you all want to get out of here, and I don’t blame you, but we have to keep you here until we’ve had a chance to talk to you.”

  “How long will that be?” a vendor down the row from Ari asked.

  “As long as it takes.” Charlie seemed unperturbed, even with everyone talking at once. “The state police will be here soon and they’ll help, but there’s a lot of you. Until we’ve had a chance to question everyone you have to stay.”

  “But only for today, right?”

  He glanced around. “Maybe.”

  That brought an uproar, and out of it that same speaker’s voice came. By craning her neck, Ari saw that it was the woman who raised llamas. “I can’t stay! I have work on Monday.”

  “I only have a room booked for one night,” someone else protested.

  “I don’t have one at all,” a third person chimed in.

  “It’s my understanding that the festival runs for two days,” Charlie said.

  “Yes, but I’m planning on going home tonight.”

  “That might not be possible.”

  “But—”

  “You can’t think someone here had anything to do with Felicia’s death,” the llama breeder said.

  “That’s exactly what I do believe.” The chief, arms crossed, looked around the barn again. “Someone at this festival is a murderer.”

  Chapter 3

  “Well, that’ll do it,” Diane muttered to Ari under the protests of horror and denial that met Chief Mason’s statement. “It’ll take forever to question everyone.”

  Ari shook her head. “The state police will do some of the questioning. My bet is they’ll eliminate nearly everyone right away. After all, most of the people were here, or in the sheep barn or snack bar, where people could see them. The Sheep to Shawl people certainly don’t have anything to worry about.”

  “That’s true.” A frown puckered Diane’s forehead. “Are you a suspect?”

  “Probably.”

  “Jeez, Ari. You gotta admit, two murders within a year is a little strange.”

  “I know.” Ari sank her chin onto her fist. “God knows what the staties will think.”

  “Yeah.” Diane watched the door, where one of the vendors was being escorted out by a patrolman. “Where are they doing the questioning?”

  “Barn A. At least it’s warm in there.”

  “It’ll be my turn soon, I bet.”

  Ari looked at her. “Why? You were here.”

  “Well, no.”

  “What?” Ari stared at her. “Then where were you?”

  “I went out for a smoke,” Diane admitted, if a bit defiantly.

  “Oh, Di, and after all you went through to quit. When did you start up again?”

  “A while ago.” She hesitated. “Last fall.”

  “That long ago?” Ari said, surprised. She’d never smelled smoke on Diane’s clothes, or, for that matter, her yarn. But then, she could understand why Diane had picked up cigarettes again. Last fall, first Diane and then her husband, Joe, had been prime suspects in the murder of Edith Perry, whom Ari had found dead in her shop. The incident had taken its toll on all of them. “Well, you were just outside the barn, weren’t you?”

  “Well, no,” Diane said again. “I was around the side so I could get under the eaves. I don’t know if anyone saw me.”

  “Oh, Di.”

  “I came out when I saw the ambulance.”

  “So you’ll be a suspect, too.”

  “Yeah.” Diane glanced at her. “We’re partners in crime again.”

  “It’s not funny, Di.”

  Diane’s lips set. “No, it won’t be when that detective of yours finds out about it.”

  “He’s not going to suspect you,” Ari protested. “And he’s not my detective.”

  “Good thing.”

  Ari let that pass. After last fall’s events, Diane had good reason to dislike Josh. “What reason would you have to kill Felicia? You didn’t even know her.”

  “I’ll still be a suspect. I was out at the wrong time.” She glanced around the barn. “Do you really think the murderer is here?”

  “It has to be one of us. Who else could it be?”

  “Don’t you think whoever stabbed her could have left?”

  Ari frowned. “Maybe. I didn’t see anyone driving out, but I don’t think I would have noticed anything right then. I was too concerned about Felicia.”

  “I wonder if the police are thinking it?”

 
“Maybe.” Josh hadn’t indicated anything about it to her, but then, he wasn’t under any obligation to give her information. “I don’t know, Diane. I think the person could still be here. It would be the best way of avoiding suspicion, wouldn’t it?”

  “I’d want to get as far away as possible.”

  “Maybe whoever it is couldn’t. Anyway, there are enough people here who had grudges against her.”

  “Like Beth Marley.”

  Ari nodded. “She’s the most likely person. Hm.”

  “What?”

  “I was just thinking. Felicia wasn’t tall.”

  “So?”

  “Neither is Beth. I wonder just how the needle went in.”

  Diane shuddered. “Ari—”

  “Well, I do. The height of whoever did it would affect the angle. I’ll bet they’ll figure that out at the autopsy.”

  “You don’t have to be so ghoulish.”

  “Seriously, Di. Whatever the angle is, it’ll give them some indication of how tall the murderer is.”

  “What I want to know is, how did a knitting needle get through all her clothes? Needles just aren’t that sharp. And how did the murderer know where to stab her?”

  Something flitted into Ari’s mind, and then was gone. Something to do with Felicia. A needle was an unlikely choice of weapon, she thought. “Just luck, I think.”

  “Luck!”

  “Bad luck. You know, Di, whoever did it probably didn’t mean to.”

  “You mean someone just saw her chance?” Diane asked.

  “Maybe. Or maybe she was just trying to hurt Felicia.” She glanced around the barn. “Where’s Beth Marley?”

  “I don’t know.” Diane scanned the area, too. “I haven’t seen her since she went storming out, now that I think of it. Do you think she’s with the police?”

  “I didn’t see her outside, either.” Ari paused. “I did tell Josh about her.”

  That made Diane look up. “You just handed her to him?”

  “That’s not fair,” Ari protested. “If I didn’t tell him about the fight, someone else would have. She’s got to be the prime suspect.”

  “What about Debbie Patrino?” Diane craned her head to look around the barn. “I don’t see her, either.”

  “She hasn’t been in here for a while.”

  “No, that’s right. She was trailing Felicia like a shadow.” Diane looked down at her spinning wheel, and then set it in motion. “Where was she, I wonder?”

  Ari opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment there was a commotion at the door. “I’m attending this thing, damn it,” a voice said irritably. “Let me in.”

  “Speak of the devil,” Diane muttered. Debbie stood just outside the door, her way in blocked by a patrolman.

  “She doesn’t look very wet,” Ari answered.

  “Of course I want to come in here,” Debbie said, apparently in answer to something the patrolman had said. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Guarding the sheep?”

  “Let her in,” Josh said from behind them.

  Debbie turned toward him. “Who are you?” she asked.

  “Detective Joshua Pierce. And you are?”

  “Detective?” She stared at him. “What’s happened?”

  “There’s been an incident. Your name?”

  “Debbie Patrino. What kind of incident?”

  “A murder.”

  “Murder!” She stared at him. “Who?”

  “Felicia Barr. I’m sorry.”

  “Felicia?” Debbie’s gaze was blank, and then she took a deep breath. “Well! I was afraid that would happen.”

  The barn was suddenly silent. “Excuse me?” Josh said.

  “She really did it?” Debbie said “She went and got herself killed?”

  “Yes.” So this was the assistant, he thought, looking down at his notebook. At least, the current one. He had yet to meet Beth Marley. “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I’m not. Oh, just let me in,” she snapped at the patrolman. “I’m getting my ass rained off here.”

  The patrolman blinked and looked at Josh, who nodded slightly. “We need to talk, Miss Patrino.”

  “So talk,” Debbie said as she furled her umbrella.

  “Not here. Would you come with me, please?”

  “What, out in that rain again? Why can’t we talk right here?”

  “Miss Patrino, I don’t think you quite realize what’s happened.”

  “Oh, call me Debbie. Of course I do. It’s only what I’ve been saying for months now.”

  “Ms. Patrino.” Josh stepped closer and pitched his voice low; there were too many people listening for his comfort. “You can come to the other barn with me on your own, or I can have Officer Santos here escort you.”

  That made her look at him. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Well? It’s your choice.”

  Debbie’s mouth quirked in annoyance. “Oh, all right, I’ll come.” She snapped her umbrella open again and stalked out, somehow retaining her air of insulted dignity. Josh couldn’t quite figure her out. He’d seen people react to violent death in many ways, but this cavalier attitude was new to him. Her boss was dead, she herself could be a suspect, and yet she seemed more annoyed than anything else. Maybe it just hadn’t sunk in yet.

  Charlie was sitting at a table in Barn A when Josh walked in, leaning forward and listening intently to the woman sitting across from him. He acknowledged Josh with a nod, but went on with his questions. The woman clearly had nothing to do with the murder, Josh thought, listening to her answers. Few people here would. Questioning everyone to winnow out those few, though, would take forever. Josh wondered when the state police would show up to help, with their mobile crime-scene van and additional manpower.

  Josh seated Debbie at a table as far from Charlie’s as he could, and then went to the coffee urn. A few minutes later he set two cups down on the table, and then sat across from Debbie, taking her measure. She was sitting still, and her eyes had an inward quality, as if she were seeing something far, far away. He wondered if she realized yet how damning her reaction was.

  At last Charlie rose, sending the woman he’d questioned on her way. With a jerk of his head he gestured Josh over. “What’s the story?”

  “Barr’s assistant. She’s acting damn weird,” Josh said, and quickly filled him in on Debbie’s behavior.

  When he was finished, Charlie was frowning. “Never saw anything like that before,” he said.

  “Me either.”

  “You think she could be the one?”

  “Maybe. She wasn’t around when it happened.”

  “Hm. You’re right. Damned odd. Well, let’s get it over with.” He moved over to the table. “Miss Patrino? I’m Chief Mason. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “Ms. Patrino,” she said absently, as if it were something she’d done many times before.

  “Okay, Ms.” Charlie nodded, though there was a slight frown on his face. Debbie’s reactions still were odd, off. “I understand you were the victim’s assistant.”

  At that, Debbie came to herself. “Victim,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Yes, Miss Patrino. You realize we have to ask you some questions.”

  “Why?” She looked up at him. “I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “We’re talking to everyone.” He reached across the table and pushed a button on a small tape recorder. “Mind if I record this?”

  “No.”

  “Good,” he said, though it didn’t matter whether she did or not. They would be recording the statements of everyone involved in this case, no matter how peripherally.

  After speaking his name, the date, and Debbie’s name into the recorder, Charlie turned toward her. “Now, Ms. Patrino.” He leaned back, apparently at ease. “What did you mean by what you said before?”

  “I don’t know. What did I say?”

  “You said you knew Felicia would be murdered.”

  “Someday,” she said. “I said �
�someday.’ ”

  “Meaning?”

  “She made enemies.” Debbie’s gaze was straight and level. Whatever her inner absorption had been, it was gone. “I used to tell her someone would stab her in the back if she kept it up.”

  “Really.” Charlie sat back. “Why that particular way?”

  She shrugged. “I guess because people said a lot behind her back, but never to her face. I can’t think that anyone she hurt would do it, though.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, they never had the guts to stand up to her, did they? By the way, how did she die?”

  “She was stabbed in the back with a knitting needle,” Josh said.

  Debbie stared at him. “You’re kidding me.”

  Josh and Charlie exchanged quick looks.

  “No. Mind telling us where you were?”

  “When?”

  “When Felicia was killed.”

  “Wait, wait, wait.” Debbie put up her hand. “You don’t think I did it?”

  “Where were you, Ms. Patrino?”

  “In my car. Well, it was cold,” she said defensively. “I ran the heater to warm up.”

  “Then why didn’t you see the police cars and the ambulances?”

  “I guess I fell asleep.”

  “You guess?”

  “Yes! I fell asleep. Is that a crime?”

  “It’s mighty convenient.”

  She stared at him and then slapped her hand on the table. “I didn’t kill her.”

  “We hear she was hard to work for,” Josh said. “She fired someone before you. Was she going to fire you, too?”

  “No! Beth Marley dug her own grave.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Something shifted in Debbie’s eyes. “She talked too much, bragged she was the real power at the magazine. I was smart enough to keep quiet and keep my head down. Where is Beth, anyway? She’s the one you should be looking for.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because she had a knock-down, drag-out fight with Felicia.”

  “Oh?”

  “In a manner of speaking. You must have heard about it. Everyone saw it.”

  “We’ll be talking to her as well. Ms. Patrino, did anyone see you in your car?”