Knit to Be Tied

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Knit to Be Tied Page 8

by Maggie Sefton


  Cassie glanced away. “I know. I figured it would be better to do something to help Greg or Lisa rather than playing softball.”

  Kelly put her hand on Cassie’s shoulder. “Actually, the best thing you could do for both of them is to hit some doubles tonight. Once Greg’s anesthesia wears off and he’s able to talk to Lisa, she can tell him about your games. I’m sure it’ll help Greg get better. And both he and Lisa will be proud of you. Besides, they only allow family members into the hospital rooms of patients who’ve had surgery. None of us can go in and see Greg except Lisa.”

  Cassie gave Kelly a quizzical look. “Lisa’s not related to Greg. And they’re not married. Lisa told me. So how does she get to see Greg?”

  “Smart question,” Kelly said, laughing softly. “Marty would be proud. It sounds like a lawyer question. Actually, Lisa and Greg have been living together for over seven years, so legally Lisa is considered to be Greg’s ‘common law’ wife. That gives her certain rights under the law.”

  “Wow. That’s interesting. I’d never heard of that,” Cassie said with a surprised look.

  “A lot of people don’t know about that part of the law, but it’s true. Now, I’m going to get a fill-up of coffee before I start on those accounts this morning.” Kelly moved toward the central yarn room.

  “I’d better stay here and finish up these magazines,” Cassie said, returning to the other end of the library table. “New editions have come out.”

  “Plus, I hear the scraping of chairs, so Mimi’s knitting class must be over,” Kelly said, looking back over her shoulder. “Lots of new knitters will be filling the shop.” Kelly continued toward the hallway leading to the café and spotted her friend Jennifer beside the grill counter loading breakfast dishes onto her tray. “Hey there. I hope you and Pete got a decent night’s sleep because Steve and I didn’t. Neither did Megan or Marty.” She walked over to the grill counter. Grill cook Eduardo was grilling sausage patties on one side of the grill and French toast on the other side.

  “Are you kidding?” Jennifer asked, raising a brow. “Pete and I slept for a little while early in the night. Then we both woke up and started tossing and turning. Neither of us could sleep after that.” She lifted the tray filled with scrumptious-looking breakfast selections to her shoulder.

  Kelly set her empty mug on the counter. “I texted Lisa this morning about six o’clock, and she was already at the hospital. She said Greg was half asleep from all the medications he’s being given. Painkillers mostly.”

  “That’s understandable. Can you imagine how much pain Greg’s in now? A broken leg and a broken arm, plus he’s been operated on.” Jennifer rolled her eyes. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Lisa says he’s black and blue all over. Even his face is scratched and bruised. Thank God Greg was wearing his helmet.” Kelly glanced over at the steaming grill and watched as Eduardo cracked two eggs. The eggs spread perfectly on the hot surface, the translucent egg white rapidly changing to white. A bright yellow yolk in the middle. Perfect sunny-side up.

  Eduardo glanced over his shoulder at Kelly and Jennifer. “Greg’s lucky to be alive. My cousin Carlos in Denver was killed when he was riding his bike along Colorado Boulevard on the way to a class he was taking at Denver University. This guy had been drinking and sideswiped Carlos. Knocked him off his bike and into traffic.” Eduardo shook his head and turned back to the grill.

  Kelly quickly pictured the horrible scene. She couldn’t help it. Her mind instantly translated Eduardo’s words into a vivid image. “That’s awful, Eduardo! I’m so sorry your cousin was killed. How old was he?”

  “He was just twenty-nine,” Eduardo answered, attention focused on the grill as he effortlessly flipped the two eggs over for a couple of seconds, then flipped them onto a plate.

  “He left his wife, Alicia, and two young children, didn’t he? I remember your telling me about the accident a couple of years ago.” Jennifer shifted the tray.

  “Yeah, he did. Luisa was five and Tomas was three. They live with my folks over in Arvada now. Alicia wasn’t able to pay all the bills herself.” Eduardo glanced back over his shoulder. “Get rid of that heavy tray, Jen,” he fussed.

  “Yes, sir,” Jennifer said with a smile as she turned toward the main part of the café. “Let me know if you hear any more from Lisa at the hospital, okay?”

  “Will do.”

  “Here, let me refill that for you, Kelly,” Eduardo said, reaching over the counter for Kelly’s oversized mug.

  “Don’t interrupt your cooking, Eduardo. I can wait for Jen. I think Julie’s outside on the patio.”

  Eduardo grinned, revealing his gold front tooth. “That’s okay, Kelly. We all know what you’re like without plenty of coffee.”

  Kelly chuckled. “Oh, boy, my reputation as a caffeine addict is set in stone, I guess,” she said as she accepted the mug. “I suppose I’d better find a quiet spot and get to work. And stop bothering you guys.”

  “You never bother us, Kelly,” Eduardo said as he placed more sausages on the grill. “You make us laugh.”

  This time Kelly laughed out loud as she walked back to the hallway leading into the knitting shop once again. At least she had entertainment value.

  • • •

  “Oh my, oh my,” Mimi said softly as she sat in the chair beside Kelly at the knitting table. Two women were browsing the magazines on the shelves and talking to each other. “This is just awful news! Poor Greg. I wish Burt and I could go over to see him. But I know only family is allowed. Besides Greg’s in no shape to have outside visitors now. Have you heard any more from Lisa since this morning?”

  “She texted me after lunch that Greg was gradually coming out of the grogginess, which is a good thing.” Kelly picked up one of the yarn skeins that lay on the table nearby. Soft pink mohair mixed with silk, the label read.

  “It’s a good thing this is Saturday. Lisa doesn’t have to go to the university to work or take classes.” Mimi toyed with another mohair and silk yarn skein scattered on the table. “Has she been at the hospital ever since Greg was brought in last night?”

  Kelly took a sip of coffee. “No, Pete and Jen took her home, but she returned to the hospital early this morning. I texted her at six A.M., and she was already there.”

  “Oh, my.”

  “Lisa texted she wanted to be there when Greg regained consciousness. I wonder if he recognized her?” Kelly mused aloud. “I mean, if you’re that groggy, maybe you can’t recognize people you know. Part of your brain is either drugged or asleep.”

  “Ohhh, I think there’s another part of our brain that stays awake during everything,” Mimi said, giving a definitive nod. “And it recognizes things and people, but we can’t talk about it.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if that makes any sense or not.”

  “I think it makes as much sense as anything else I’ve heard about people being unconscious.”

  A familiar voice came from the central yarn room. “Oh, good. The two of you are together. Now I don’t have to repeat myself,” retired Fort Connor police detective Burt Parker said as he strode into the main room.

  “Hey, Burt.” Kelly lifted her mug to him in greeting as her mentor and father figure pulled out a chair beside his wife.

  “Oh, I’m so glad you came while Kelly is still here,” Mimi said, turning to him. “Did you learn anything from your old friends at the department?”

  Burt leaned forward and folded his arms on the table in familiar fashion. “Well, there’s not much to learn so far. I spoke to Dan on the phone, and he said police are searching for clues on the hit-and-run driver, all right. They haven’t found any yet. But what’s interesting is it turns out Greg was the second victim of a hit-and-run driver last night.”

  “What!” Kelly stared at Burt.

  “Merciful heavens!” Mimi said, her hand to her chest.
/>   The two women perusing magazines at the other end of the library table glanced at Mimi briefly, then returned to their magazines.

  Burt noticed and lowered his voice. “Apparently there was a fatal hit-and-run around that same time. The fatality was a man who might have been walking toward his car, which was parked along the street that runs behind several of the craft breweries. That’s the very same street where Greg was hit. But it was farther ahead near the corner stop sign.”

  “Oh, my word!” Mimi repeated, softer now, her right hand clutching at her chest in a familiar reaction Kelly had witnessed for years. Mimi’s shocked response to any bad news.

  Kelly leaned toward Burt and kept her voice down. “That’s got to be the same driver, don’t you think? What was the time frame?”

  “It’s very probably around the same time, because a driver who turned from a cross street is the one who spotted Greg lying in the street at the corner. And he called 911 and emergency services. Apparently the EMS ambulance and fire department rescue noticed this other guy lying along the road when they drove up in response to Greg.” Burt looked at both of them. “I have to tell you, in all those years working for the department, I’ve never seen an accident scene like this one is turning out to be. I’ve been called to multiple fatalities but they involved automobile crashes. This is a double hit-and-run.”

  “Do they know who the victim is? Was he young or old?”

  “Dan said they’re in the process of establishing his identity now. But he’s a younger guy. Ambulance crew said his driver’s license revealed he was twenty-five years old.”

  “Oh, no, that’s so young!” Mimi exclaimed.

  Burt nodded. “It sure is. Of course, he may have been drinking and staggered into the path of this car, we don’t know.”

  Kelly frowned. “But then, why would the driver go and hit Greg then? Do they think the driver might have been drunk?”

  Burt shrugged. “Police have no idea what caused both hit-and-runs. Who knows? Maybe the driver accidentally hit the young guy who walked in front of his car. Then maybe the driver drove off in a panic and hit Greg at the corner.”

  “He had to have been panicked to run into two people like that,” Kelly said.

  “Police will come up with more information when they start interviewing people, I’m sure. There don’t seem to be any witnesses on that dark street, but time will tell. People have a way of turning up.”

  Kelly remembered that from some of the past murder cases she had involved herself in. People did indeed turn up. Some of them from the unlikeliest places.

  “On which street was the second guy found?” Kelly asked.

  “He was found lying on Taylor Street, and Greg was hit at the corner of Taylor and Abercrombie. Both of them are adjacent to Old Town and have a brewpub on each one. The Halftime Bar is on Taylor, and the Lager House is on Abercrombie.”

  “I’ll bet that young man who died was a student, a graduate student,” Mimi said sorrowfully. “The parents are going to be heartbroken, simply heartbroken.”

  Kelly exchanged a brief glance with Burt but neither said a word. Kelly remembered that Steve had told her years ago about the tragic death of Mimi’s only child, her son, Jeffrey. He had taken some unknown drugs at a party up in Cache La Poudre Canyon and had wandered off from the party. Friends found him later that evening, lying on the rocks below in a cliffside ravine. Dead. There was never any more information on the tragic accident. Friends had noticed him walk out the door of the mountainside home but no one followed him. And no one witnessed what was undoubtedly an awful accident. All that Mimi was ever told was that her son was “pretty high” the last time anyone spoke to him at the party.

  The Fort Connor medical examiner told her that they found a mixture of amphetamines and other stimulants all mixed together in her son’s system. Jennifer and Lisa had said that Mimi was shocked by the report. Her son had never experimented with drugs in high school apparently. At least, not that his mother ever knew. Unfortunately, if this occasion was an experiment, it turned out to be fatal. And Mimi was “devastated,” in Lisa’s words. She also told Kelly that she suspected the son’s death played a role in Mimi’s divorce from her husband.

  “I’m sure they will be grief-stricken, Mimi,” Kelly said, wanting to say something reassuring but at a sudden loss for words.

  “Whenever a young person dies in an accident, it’s always traumatic. And tragic for their loved ones,” Burt said as he placed his hand over Mimi’s in a comforting way.

  “I’ve heard of the Halftime Bar,” Kelly said, trying to gently turn the subject away from the sad memories this incident had brought back from the past. “Apparently it’s a pickup bar. Lots of college students there, from what I’ve heard.”

  “That’s for sure,” Burt agreed. “The Lager House has a more diverse or mixed crowd. But none of that matters if the customers don’t exercise some good judgment and watch how much they’re drinking.”

  Kelly had to smile. “Boy, Burt. You are an optimist. Even after all these years of being in a university town. Good judgment is not usually associated with college student behavior, especially freshmen students.”

  Burt chuckled. “You’re right, Kelly. I remain an optimist, even after all these years.”

  “That’s one of the things I love about him,” Mimi said with a smile and leaned over to kiss Burt’s cheek.

  • • •

  Kelly stroked Carl’s silky black ears as she finished her morning coffee. Carl crooned his contentment with the ecstatic ear rub even if it was one-handed. The sound of Kelly’s cell phone ringing interrupted Carl’s doggie song. “Okay, Carl. Time for me to return some business calls before the day is over. You return to doggie patrol.”

  Kelly had noticed that Brazen Squirrel had used Carl’s pleasure break for a fast scamper across the chain-link fence. Carl, however, was oblivious. Kelly decided she wouldn’t squeal on the little creature. There would be countless more encounters between these two adversaries.

  Carl bounded out into the afternoon sunshine as Kelly slid open the cottage screen door and retrieved her ringing phone. Lisa’s name flashed on the screen. “Hey there,” Kelly greeted her friend. “How’s Greg doing?”

  “He’s slowly getting more awake. Meanwhile, I’m trying to catch up on some reading. One of my friends e-mailed me the class assignments. Lord knows when I’ll return to class.”

  “Don’t even worry about it, Lisa,” Kelly counseled. “You’re doing great in your classes. And you’re doing the right thing by staying there with Greg. That way when he wakes up, he’ll see you there.”

  “I actually hope the poor guy stays asleep for a while longer. He’s bound to be in a lot of pain when he does wake up. Hey, before I forget, another friend e-mailed me that there was a fatal hit-and-run in Old Town that same night. She saw it on an online website that has local Colorado news. Did you hear anything about that?”

  Kelly leaned against the kitchen counter. “As a matter of fact, I heard about it from Burt yesterday afternoon. Apparently some guy who was turning the corner onto the street where Greg was hit called 911. And Burt said the ambulance crew found the second guy lying dead on the street as they drove to treat Greg.”

  “Good Lord! Two hit-and-runs in one night? I can’t believe it.”

  “In the same area, too. And one of them fatal. Burt said the fatality was a young guy about twenty-five. He was hit farther down that street closer to the brewpubs. So he was probably walking back to his car after being out with friends or something.”

  “People park all around there for the Old Town cafés. Boy, I hope the newspaper and TV stations put that message out there. Be sober when you’re walking and driving at night. Do you think there’s a chance the two accidents are connected somehow?”

  “Burt seems to think they are, and I agree. Who knows? Maybe someone hit the you
ng guy first, and then drove off in a panic. And didn’t even notice Greg at the corner.”

  “Well, the police will find out. Oh, I think I see Greg’s orthopedist in the hallway. Talk to you later.” Her phone clicked off.

  Kelly ran water into a pitcher and refilled Carl’s large water dishes on the outside patio. Carl was busy snuffling and sniffing squirrel feet in the bushes. Brazen was safe on a cottonwood limb high above. All was right with the world . . . at least the small part comprising Kelly’s cottage and doggie and squirrel soap operas.

  Eight

  “That is awful news, Kelly,” her client Arthur Housemann said. “And who could imagine a double hit-and-run. How could anyone do such a thing?” He gazed out the window of his top-floor office, which looked out over the city of Fort Connor to the east.

  Kelly followed his lead and looked out Housemann’s large office window at how far the city of Fort Connor had spread since she first returned to her childhood home several years ago. When she was a child in elementary school, the population of Fort Connor was less than eighty thousand people. In the thirty years since, the city had spread beyond its original boundaries and the population had nearly doubled. The latest census numbers showed Fort Connor to be close to one hundred and fifty thousand people. And that did not count the college students who attended the state university. Since the Front Range of the Rocky Mountains bordered the city on the west, and the small town of Wellesley was to the north, Fort Connor’s growth spilled to the east and the south. Kelly was always surprised at the new housing developments that kept appearing.

  “Some of us think the driver either was drunk or scared. Maybe he accidentally hit the first guy and then panicked and ran into Greg at the corner,” Kelly said.

  “I still find it hard to believe. He must have been driving fast because of Greg’s injuries. A broken leg and a broken shoulder, too?”

  “A broken arm. Broken left leg and broken left arm. Plus sprained all over. Lisa says Greg’s black and blue everywhere.” Kelly made a face.

 

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