A Crafter Knits a Clue

by Holly Quinn

  “No. I haven’t, but I’d heard we had a new detective. I figured I’d run into him sooner or later. Your office is literally one block away.”

  “I’m guessing sooner. Detective Nash is going to want to talk to you. I’m sure of it.” Tim ripped the hangnail off his finger. “Hey! I got it,” he smiled victoriously.

  “I have to say, it does blow my mind.”

  “What’s that?” Tim looked up from his finger and rested his thick muscular arms on the wooden counter top.

  “How someone could be that brazen to kill Ingrid across the street from the police department. Right under your noses. In broad daylight, no less! Now that’s insane.” Sammy shook her head and uncrossed her arms and dropped them to her sides.

  “You didn’t see anything?” Tim pressed.

  “Oh, my God. I just thought of something.”

  Tim waited patiently for Sammy to share her thoughts.

  “There was only one knitting needle … used to, uh … murder Ingrid,” Sammy’s face twisted at the memory. “But where’s the other one? You know they come in pairs, right?”

  “Of course, I know that.” Tim said. “My grandmother was a serial knitter.” He winked. “But that’s a great point. I’ll see if the detective found the other one.”

  Sammy snapped her fingers. “And there’s something else. There was a blue car that took off screeching from the lot.”

  Tim leaned in closer. “What type? You have the model and make? License plate?”

  “No. It was a smaller car? I mean … not an SUV. Great. I have no idea except it was blue. Dark blue.”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It’s something. How were you supposed to know that car had just left a crime scene?”

  Sammy hung her head defeated. “I feel responsible.”

  Tim leaned over the counter and reached with extended arms to shake her shoulders. “Now, don’t do that. This is not your fault.”

  “I have a bit of a confession.” Sammy bit her lip.

  This alerted the policeman, and he dropped his arms and stood tall and attentive. “A confession?”

  “Yeah. I didn’t go over right away when Ingrid called. You know how she is. I mean was. Always making people rush to her aid. I waited, and I shouldn’t have. If I’d gone over right away, she might still be alive.” Sammy sighed heavily.

  The policeman relaxed and deflated. “That’s all? I thought you were going to confess to killing her!”

  “Tim!” Sammy moved around the counter and playfully punched him on the arm. “Seriously?”

  “Hey. You were the one that used the word confession. Careful the words you use around us police officers,” he teased. “Look, I’m heading back to the crime scene. I’m sure Nash is going to want to talk to you. He’s taking down the specifics. I’ll send him over. Don’t lock the back door yet.”

  Sammy walked slowly with Tim toward the back door. “Tell Heidi hello for me. I’ll catch up with you guys another night.”

  “You sure? You shouldn’t be alone right now. Come down to the Corner Grill if you change your mind.” Tim waved a hand and was off into the inky wet night.

  Sammy shut the door and hung the CLOSED sign but left the back door unlocked for the detective. Just as she was going to retreat into the shop, the new guy in town made an appearance and knocked on the glass door. Sammy reopened it and held it wide.

  “Detective Liam Nash. I work for the Heartsford Police Department. You must be Samantha Kane?”

  Sammy wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but her initial impression of the detective pleasantly surprised her. He stood tall in a brown leather jacket. Of course, tall was relative. Everyone seemed tall to her; even with heeled shoes, Sammy was lucky to reach five feet. Liam’s dark eyes were serious, but his hair was something altogether different, his out-of-control curls refused to stay in place. Tim hadn’t told her the new detective was attractive, but then again, he wouldn’t. The detective wasn’t male-model gorgeous, but he wasn’t hard on the eyes either. His defined cheekbones and perfectly sized nose, made him look as if he could have been a J.Crew model. Tim also hadn’t said if the detective was single. Sammy stole a quick glance at a naked left hand ring finger. No ring. She wondered if her cousin Heidi had met him yet. If she had, Heidi would have said something; the matchmaker in her would not let that pass her radar. By the look of his features, they had to be close in age, give or take a few years. Was he close to her thirty-three years? Or was he closer to forty? She couldn’t quite gauge. Either way, the first impression piqued her interest.

  “Come in.” Sammy closed the store door behind the detective and led him inside the shop. She turned to him and stood to lean her back against the tall counter for support. “Welcome to Heartsford.”

  “Thanks. I’m sorry we’re meeting on these terms. I won’t take much of your time. I see you’re closing up for the night.” His eyes glanced around the space, taking it all in.

  “Yes. Small town. If I stay open everyone will be in here gossiping, and I’m not ready for it,” Sammy admitted easily.

  “I bet.” The new detective turned his attention from the merchandise back to her.

  They stood in awkward silence for a few moments before Sammy asked, “What did you want to ask me?”

  “I understand you were the one to find Ingrid.”

  “Yes.” Sammy nodded her head in agreement.

  “I’m sorry about that. How are you handling it?”

  “Well, it’s not every day you find a neighbor dead in her store.” Sammy thought his questioning a bit strange, but who was she to judge?

  “Did you kill Ingrid Wilson?”

  “Well, you are direct, aren’t you, Detective?” Sammy’s hazel eyes narrowed.

  “I tend to sense when someone is guilty, and I sense you’re not. Not to worry.” He rested an elbow atop the counter and leaned in casually.

  “That’s good. I think. And the answer is no. I didn’t kill Ingrid Wilson. She wasn’t the easiest to get along with,” Sammy admitted, “but I didn’t kill her.”

  “Yes. I’ve heard that.”

  “Heard what exactly.”

  “That she wasn’t the easiest to get along with.”

  “Ah.” Sammy was a little relieved someone else had voiced the truth about Ingrid Wilson. It made her feel even worse though, speaking ill of the dead.

  “Although you do have a motive.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Well, I’m sure she could sell knitted creations over there just as well as you could over here.” Liam Nash eyed the merchandise rack standing next to him filled with knit scarves left over from the winter clearance.

  “No. Ingrid sells yarn. I sell her customers’ creations.” Sammy corrected.

  The detective altered his line of questioning. “What can you tell me about Augustine Ellsworth Wilson III?”

  “Coach? I can tell you no one calls him by his given name,” Sammy chuckled.

  “Yes, I’ve heard that’s how he’s referred to around these parts. What can you tell me about the coach then?”

  “Not the coach, just Coach,” Sammy corrected. “Not much really. He’s been the head coach of the high school basketball team for several years now. He actually brought Heartsford to the championships a few times. A select few students have received full scholarships based on his efforts. He’s highly regarded in this town for that. I don’t really have a personal relationship with him outside the fact he’s the coach, and we were introduced at a basketball practice once. Coach and I might briefly chat or wave in passing, other than that I don’t have much more I could say. Why? Is he a suspect? He can’t possibly be a suspect? Is it because he’s Ingrid’s closest relative in town that you’re considering him?”

  Detective Liam Nash didn’t flinch. He just continued his line of questioning.

  “Tim mentioned you saw a car speed away but that you only recollect that it was dark blue.”

  “Yes. Unfortunately, that’s true. Other t
han that, I don’t have any further information to share.”

  “What time did you talk to Ingrid before going to The Yarn Barn?”

  “I didn’t. Carter did. He’s a high school student that works part-time for me. Ingrid called him, but I went over instead; she needed help with something. But it wasn’t right away. I had a few things to do in the office first.” Sammy bit her lower lip. She would not share with the detective the shame that was coursing through her veins at that very moment because she hadn’t gone to the yarn shop right away. She wondered how long it would take to work through that type of guilt.

  “Do you recall the time?”

  Sammy looked at the ceiling as she searched her memory and noticed Carter had finished hanging the rest of the umbrellas. “If you want an exact time, it would be recorded on Carter’s cell phone. Honestly, I’m not sure what time it was. I could text Carter and ask him for you. Other than the phone call, Carter wouldn’t have anything else to share as he was here at the store the entire time,” she assured him.

  “Let me be the judge of whether I should question Carter,” he said with bite to his words.

  “Of course.” Sammy released her back from the counter and stood upright. “Do you take vitamin D supplements, Detective?”

  Detective Liam Nash gave Sammy a peculiar stare before turning toward the door. He reached inside his leather jacket and pulled out a business card. “I’ll be in touch, Ms. Kane.” He handed her the card then slipped out the back door.

  Chapter Three

  Sammy juggled a brown paper shopping bag and her dark leather purse as she fumbled to unlock her rented Cape Cod. Her furry best friend eagerly met her at the front door. She placed the bag on a side table by the door, dropped her purse to the floor, and fluffed her golden retriever behind the ears. “I’m sorry I’m so late, Bara. I should have taken you to work today.” Sammy clicked on his old weathered leash and led him out to do his business.

  The rain had stopped, but a damp biting wind remained. “Hurry up, boy,” she danced from foot to foot trying to keep warm while her dog sniffed for the perfect spot. Sammy grew impatient and led him to his favorite tall oak, still naked of leaves from the long Wisconsin winter, where he finally relieved himself. She felt bad she hadn’t taken her pup for a walk. Often, she would walk to work and bring her prized golden into the store where he’d lazily lay most of the day, spoiled and cooed over by her customers. But today she had driven because she had needed to run a few errands after work. It had been a long and emotional day.

  A car parked at the end of the tree-lined road flicked on its lights, turned on its engine, and retreated in the other direction. Had the person in the car been watching her? In the dark, she couldn’t discern the color of the car. Now she was just being paranoid. Or was she? She gave a jerk to Bara’s leash, alerting the dog that it was time to go inside. Normally, she wasn’t the type to be anxious while alone in her neighborhood, but the events of the day had left her on edge. She closed and locked the door, unleashed Bara, and hung her jacket on a wooden peg just inside the entrance. With a flick of a switch, the gas fireplace whooshed to life, bringing instant comfort to her living space. Her dog, as if on cue, curled up on the rug in front of the licking flames. She was so grateful her landlord had converted the fireplace to gas. Ralph had mentioned he had done it for selfish reasons. It was neater and would cause less damage to one of his many properties. But for her, it meant one less thing to do—never having to haul wood.

  The sound of Adele’s singing rang out from the side pocket of Sammy’s purse. “Hello … it’s me…” She clicked to answer it just before the music stopped.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  Sammy winced and clicked the phone to speaker to free her hands. Her sister, Ellie, obviously agitated from the sound of her voice, waited for an answer. “I guess you heard. Boy, news travels fast. Let me guess . .” Sammy pursed her lips and tapped her finger on the side table. “Heidi.”

  “Of course Heidi. Why do I have to hear this kind of news from my cousin and not my own sister?”

  “I’m sorry. I haven’t even eaten supper yet.” Sammy leaned her head back and peeked at the antique cuckoo clock that hung on the wall. “It’s after eight o’clock, and I’m just getting home.”

  “I just put Tyler to bed and had to call. Are you okay? I can’t even imagine … You could have been attacked too. Or murdered! What would I do if I lost my sister?”

  Sammy allowed Ellie to ramble. She knew from experience to let her older sister unload. Even though she was only two years older, Ellie seemed to take on a protective role. And since giving birth to Tyler, her sister had changed. Her carefree attitude had morphed into over-nurturing parenting, bordering on almost neurotic at times. Sammy wasn’t sure if it was due to her mothering of two-year-old Tyler, or rather that their own mother was no longer present in their everyday lives. At first, their parents had been snowbirds, overwintering in Arizona. But as the years went by, the overwintering became more permanent and trips back to Wisconsin became random, leaving the two siblings to fend for themselves until the holidays. At times, Ellie’s overreactions and smothering proved to be overwhelming and exhausting. Sammy was more than capable of taking care of herself—thank you very much.

  “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I really don’t want to be interrogated right now. I’m hungry. I’m tired. And I love you too.” Sammy plucked the phone off the side table, walked over to the sofa that sat in front of the fireplace and flopped into its cushions, curling her feet beneath her.

  “Maybe I should come over and spend the night? Or better yet, you should come over here?”

  Sammy could hear Randy in the background calling for her sister. “Sounds like your husband needs you. I think I heard him say that Tyler just threw up. No offense, but no thanks. I don’t need to catch the flu on top of everything I have to do this week.”

  “Crap. I have to go.” Sammy could hear the urgency in her sister’s voice. “Depending on how Tyler feels; maybe we’ll stop by Community Craft tomorrow. Doesn’t look like he’ll be going to preschool.”

  “Hope he feels better. Good night.”

  Her sister clicked off.

  Sammy pulled her weary body off the couch and away from the warmth of the fire and walked into the small kitchen. She tugged the refrigerator door open and now wished she had gone for all-you-can-eat pizza with Heidi and Tim. After glancing at her empty shelves, she remembered she had left her grocery bag on the side table by the door. When she rushed over to grab the bag, the condensation from the frozen items had wet the paper, and the groceries fell out the bottom of the bag to the floor with a thud. Bara jumped to a standing position and sauntered over to investigate. As her dog sniffed the remnants on the floor, Sammy gathered the groceries into her arms and sighed heavily. She moved to the kitchen counter and dumped the heap of items into a pile.

  As she attempted to shelve the can of coffee grounds, she suddenly remembered something. There had been a steaming cup of coffee on the counter close to where Ingrid’s lifeless body lay. Directly on the counter above her. And it was a paper cup from the downtown coffee shop, Liquid Joy. She would recognize that yellow smiley-faced paper cup anywhere. Had someone brought it to Ingrid? If so … who? The cup was still full and steaming with the lid off. And she remembered smelling the aroma in the air. But the shock of finding Ingrid’s body had made her forget. The simple act of shelving the coffee had triggered her memory.

  Either Ingrid had gone to Liquid Joy herself to get a coffee or someone had brought it to her. She decided the former wasn’t likely. First, Ingrid didn’t do anything for herself, and second, she wouldn’t have left The Yarn Barn unattended. So, the killer could have been someone who knew Ingrid and had brought the coffee for her. Was it Coach? It couldn’t possibly … could it? Or someone else that could have visited the store right before the murder? Sammy decided not to program her coffee machine for the following day.
No. She would be making a trip to Liquid Joy first thing in the morning.

  Chapter Four

  Fat snowflakes, the size of silver dollars, fell from yet another colorless sky, but failed to accumulate on the ground due to the warmer spring earth. Sammy watched out her front window with dismay and felt compassion for the tiny wren clinging to the bird feeder for dear life. A robin bounced along the damp green grass that was matted with soggy aged leaves—leaves from the previous winter that had never made it to the pile before the first snow. Even the spring bird looked dazed as if cheated into coming back too early.

  Sammy turned from the window, to an eager dog standing at attention. “I’m sorry, Bara. Not today. I’m taking the car again.” His eyes drooped, and he slumped to the floor in response. She could swear her pup understood every word that came out of her mouth. He understood her better than half the people she knew. Leaving him behind for the second day in a row left a knot in her stomach. Great. Something else to feel guilty about.

  After letting the dog out to do his business, she gave him a quick pat on the head before slinging her purse over her shoulder and stepping out onto the front stoop, moving carefully to make sure she didn’t slip on the icy pavement. At least her car wasn’t covered in snow. A few wipes with the wiper blades should be enough to clear it. As she backed out of the driveway, she noticed a silver Honda Civic pulling away from the curb. It wasn’t a car she recognized as belonging to one of her neighbors. A sudden chill trickled down her spine, and it wasn’t from the cold. Had someone been watching her overnight? Was it the same car as the night before? It was unusual for her neighbors to be up at first light. Usually, she was one of the earliest in the neighborhood to leave home. Especially today, as she was leaving extra early to stop for coffee on her way to the shop. She’d have to ask her neighbors if anyone had company visiting this week who had parked on the road. Another item to add to her list of things to do that day. This paranoia was going to have to stop, she decided. There was no time for it, and it only compounded her already jittery nerves.