by Holly Quinn
“And Tyler? I thought he’d be here with you by now?”
“He’s at a playdate with his little friend Steven. His mom owed me anyway. She picked him up after school, and he’s hanging there until either Randy or I can pick him up. I’m not leaving you until I know you’re safe.” Ellie grabbed her sister’s arm to gain her complete attention and stop Sammy from adjusting merchandise on a nearby rack. “Interesting little tidbit from Deborah this morning. You know she volunteers at the school from time to time, right? The morning that Coach was struck by the car, Assistant Coach Dave was at the school. She remembered seeing him in the parking lot and walking into the building. She said when Coach was hit that morning, the news spread like wild fire. She’s without a doubt certain Dave wasn’t anywhere near Main Street. I think he should be removed from the suspect list, don’t you? Not to mention, he was driving a truck through the parade. There’s no way he was the costume guy that warned you.”
“True. He can be taken off the list … But what if he hired someone? He certainly had the chance to improve his son’s chances of recruitment when Coach was in the hospital. That’s a little hard to disregard. Isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. I guess so? I think it’s unlikely that he would hire someone. What motive would he have for killing Ingrid? It just doesn’t fit.” Ellie steepled her fingers and laid them gently on her lips, her brows crinkled.
Sammy nodded in agreement. Her sister was probably right. As she turned to adjust the handmade soap back into a neat pyramid stack on the shelf, she remembered she had left a few of the bars of sugar scrub on her desk. She hurried back to the office and Ellie followed.
“Have you had anything to eat? I’m starving.” Sammy’s hunger sidetracked her current mission. She opened the office refrigerator door and then slammed it shut when she realized it was completely empty. Empty fridge at home. Empty fridge at work. She really needed to get organized.
“I haven’t had lunch today either. How about we order takeout from the Corner Grill? Want a sandwich?” Ellie suggested.
“I’m thinking more like a juicy burger after the day I’ve had. With a side of fries!”
“Screw the diet, I’ll have the same. Call it in please, and I’ll go pick it up after the knitters’ meeting is over. My treat for today. That sounds really good!” Ellie moved out to the display floor while Sammy called in their order from the office phone.
As Sammy finished the call, Ellie returned to the schedule in her hand. She held it out for Sammy to view. “The knitting group will be here soon for their meeting. We should try and join in to see if we can dig up any more intel. What do you think?”
“I think it’s a great idea. Any information at this point that could help us dig deeper or drop suspects would be incredibly helpful. I just don’t know how much gossip they’ll spill with us present. Sometimes they clam up when I enter the room. I suppose I understand that though. They spend a lot of time together and share their most intimate and personal stories along the way. Sometimes it’s hard for a newcomer to join in these cemented groups. Which is precisely why Ingrid didn’t take part in their close, tight group.”
Sammy rose from the office chair and followed her sister to the cash register. The two stood at the counter as Annabelle Larson walked toward them, her curly red head appearing out of nowhere.
“Hi, Annabelle, I didn’t see you hidden among the merchandise. All ready for the knitting group to arrive? How are you today?”
“I’ve been better,” she sniffed and wiped her wet eyes with a tissue and then blew her nose and stuffed the Kleenex in the side of her quilted handbag. “I was in the bathroom. That’s why you didn’t see me come in,” she said in a monotone voice.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” Sammy moved around the counter to stand next to Annabelle, while Ellie looked on from behind the counter.
“Heartsick. My husband is filing for divorce.” She reached for the soiled tissue and blew her nose again. After wiping her eyes, which were rapidly filling with tears, she looked at Sammy helplessly.
Sammy pointed to Ellie who reached under the counter and pulled out a box of tissues and held it out for Annabelle to pluck a fresh one.
“Thank you,” she said sadly and then brought the tissue to her eye to wipe newly formed tears. “I know it’s best. I’m in love with Miles. I didn’t plan any of this.” Her face reddened and splotches began forming on her neck. She waved the tissue like a white flag, then blotted her eyes.
Sammy and Ellie stood listening, neither knowing quite what to say.
“It’s just, well I’ve been married so long. And I depend on my husband financially.” She suddenly gripped Sammy’s arm desperately. “Can you hire me, Samantha?”
Sammy was caught totally off guard, “I don’t have the money to pay you, Annabelle. I’m sorry. I just hired someone else, and Ellie and Carter work here from time to time. I don’t have the funds for another full-time employee right now.”
Annabelle nodded her head in agreement as she blew her nose again. “I understand. I’m just so afraid, I don’t know what I’ll do! What skills do I have besides knitting?”
“It’s okay.” Ellie reached across the counter and patted the crying woman’s hand that rested on the Kleenex box. “Everything has a way of working itself out.”
“You’re right,” Annabelle said as her eyes dropped to the floor.
“Can I ask you something?” Sammy knew it was a stretch, but she had to ask.
Annabelle looked up, her eye makeup, which was usually overdone to hide deep wrinkles, was now dripping down her cheeks in long black paths. “What is it?”
“Why was Miles at The Yarn Barn? Did he often pick up stuff for you?”
Annabelle stiffened. “Are you asking me about the day of the murder? Is that what you’re referring to?”
“Truthfully? Yes. I’m trying to understand why Miles’s coffee was sitting on the counter.” Sammy’s eyes searched the woman’s face, looking for any hint of a flinch.
“It wasn’t his coffee. It was mine. He brought it to me and then left. He wanted an excuse to see me. That’s all there is to that.” She turned on her heel and started and strode purposefully toward the craft room. “Thanks for the Kleenex,” she said to Ellie over her shoulder.
“Annabelle … wait!” Sammy rushed to follow her. “Are you telling me that you were in The Yarn Barn when Ingrid was murdered?”
“Yes.” She sniffed. “I was there.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sammy could not wrap her head around the bomb that Annabelle Larson had just dropped.
“What do you mean you were there?” She swung the woman around so hard that Annabelle had no other choice than to face her. They both looked at each other in stunned silence for a moment.
“Samantha Kane, I think you had better calm down.” Annabelle placed her quilted handbag on the chair inside the craft room and then rubbed her arm where Sammy had just tugged to turn her around. “The knitting group is going to be here any minute. I don’t think you want them to see us in the middle of a physical altercation? Do you?”
Sammy took a deep breath. She hadn’t meant to be so forceful. She guessed the stress of Ingrid’s murder and the subsequent threats she’d received was taking a much greater toll on her than she would have liked to admit. What she really needed was a hot bubble bath, a full night of uninterrupted sleep … and a full refrigerator of healthy foods. She was officially losing it. Barely surviving on caffeine and Marilyn’s sugary treats.
Ellie suddenly appeared next to them and said, “Time out, ladies! Why don’t you two go talk privately in the office. I’ll start the group off without either of you.” Ellie whisked the two out of the room and encouraged them to move toward the office. “Take five! Or better yet, take ten if you need it!” she strongly suggested.
The two stormed off behind the wood counter, retreating to the office where Sammy closed the door behind them.
Sammy and Annabelle
stood in the office like two people who were about to engage in a fencing tournament with swords raised in a defensive stance.
“Please go ahead and sit,” Sammy encouraged Annabelle.
“I’d rather not if you don’t mind.” Annabelle stood defensively; her deep sadness had morphed into fury. The kind of anger that was obviously misplaced. “I’ve already told the police everything I know. Who do you think you are? You’re trying to blame me? I did not kill Ingrid Wilson! I’m innocent!”
“I’m in no way accusing you. I’m trying to understand how you were there and the police haven’t arrested anyone but your lover! Who almost took the fall and went to jail for you.” Sammy pointed a finger at Annabelle. “I’ve always thought of Miles as an upstanding and honorable man. Nor do I blame either of you for your tryst. That’s between you and Miles. I’m only trying to find out who murdered this woman in cold blood!” Sammy looked down at her closed fists and released them. She really needed to calm down or she wasn’t going to get any answers. “Now.” She took a deep breath. “Please. Please tell me who killed Ingrid Wilson.”
“I don’t know.” Annabelle’s eyes were laser sharp. “If I knew, don’t you think the person would be behind bars by now?”
“How can you say you were there and not know? That just doesn’t make sense.” Sammy shook her head, bewildered. “Can you please help me understand?”
“Since you need to know everything that goes on in this town, I’ll tell you. It seems to me you think you’re the town’s mother hen.” Annabelle brushed imaginary lint from her sleeve. “Miles wanted to see me. We can’t get enough of each other these days.”
Sammy could feel bile rising in her throat; she could almost taste it. There are some things you just don’t want to know. The image of Miles and Annabelle together in that way quickly floated in front of her. Ick. She hoped the image popped soon. Like one of Tyler’s play bubbles—here now and gone in an instant.
“Miles knew I was going to The Yarn Barn to pick up alpaca yarn, so I could work on the socks I was knitting for Spring Fling. He came into the store and brought coffee for me. You know, he’s very thoughtful that way. He’s an extremely attentive man. Even in the bedroom. Not like my soon-to-be ex-husband, who never even brought me one flower our whole married life—if you can imagine.” She pouted like a teenager who had just had all her electronic devices taken away. “Anyhow … When we heard noise coming from the back of the store, we both panicked. He had just sneaked a kiss behind a rack of yarn by the counter. The most sensuous kiss.” She held her hand to her heart and puckered her lips as if she was reliving the passionate moment.
Now Sammy really thought she might throw-up. It was good she and Ellie hadn’t eaten their hamburgers yet. She closed her eyes momentarily to try to get rid of the images and visions that were plaguing her.
“Miles thought Ingrid might have seen us kissing and would expose our relationship, but we didn’t want anyone to know. He took off out the front door like a kicked dog, and I followed him toward the front of the store. But I panicked when I realized we shouldn’t both be seen leaving at the same time. Instead, I hurried upstairs toward Ingrid’s office. I figured she wouldn’t know I was up there because I assumed she was somewhere in the back of the store. I didn’t even know she had been murdered until later that day. I didn’t know where she was. I never saw her. I just snuck down the front stairs from her office after a few minutes and walked out the front door. I gave myself plenty of time after Miles left. Now do you understand why I didn’t see who killed her? I was upstairs the entire time, hiding in Ingrid’s office.”
Sammy thought for a moment. Ingrid’s store configuration was different than Community Craft. At The Yarn Barn, the office wasn’t behind the register. Instead, it was located on the second floor, with access from the front staircase, making Annabelle’s account of what occurred plausible.
“And you didn’t hear a thing?”
“No, I didn’t. Ingrid keeps a fan on upstairs because she must have been going through the change of life. She used to get hot flashes all the time. Didn’t you know that? I swear, I didn’t even know she was dead.” Annabelle crossed her heart. “If I did … don’t you think I would have called the police or exposed the killer?”
Sammy wasn’t sure of anything right now. Nothing in the town of Heartsford was making sense. Even the thought of her dear friend Miles and Annabelle having romantic relations just felt plain wrong and weird. She felt like she was on the tilt-a-whirl at the summer carnival and not having a fun ride.
“The only thing I’m guilty of is leaving my green knitting needles with my partial project on the counter. The killer must have used my project to wipe away any DNA, and the other needle, according to police, seems to be missing…” Annabelle’s face twisted. “The police told me they never found the other one … it’s obviously not something I ever want to see again … I was so caught up in my escape, I forgot to go back for my stuff. The last thing I would ever think would be that my needles would end up being used as a murder weapon! I just ran out the door, and that was that.”
Before Sammy had a chance to hold her words back they flew from her lips. “If it was one of your needles that killed her … wouldn’t that make you the number one suspect?”
Annabelle rolled her eyes. “Samantha Kane. The police department cleared me after I aced a lie detector test with flying colors. Plus, Miles finally told the police the truth of our relationship when they pressed him. They know I had nothing to do with the murder of Ingrid Wilson. I can’t even believe you would think that I would be capable of something so monstrous.”
Sammy remained silent She didn’t know what to think.
Annabelle threw one hand on her hip. “Now, if you don’t mind. I want to go join my knitting friends. I’m sure they’ll at least give me a little empathy for my divorce, unlike you,” she said as the fat tears again began to form.
Sammy reached out, leaning forward for a hug—a peace offering of sorts—and Annabelle fell into her arms dramatically. “Can’t you see how hard this has all been?”
“I’m sorry for your pain,” Sammy said soothingly as the woman’s mascara dripped onto her shoulder. “Things will work out. You’ll see. You’re just going through a rough patch.”
“Still friends?” Annabelle asked as she leaned back and held Sammy at arm’s length.
“You bet.” Sammy reached for the handle of the office door and swung it open. “Since we’re friends again, can I ask you one more thing before you join with the other knitters?”
“Sure,” Annabelle sniffed and wiped her dripping nose with her finger.
Sammy retreated inside the office and reached for the Kleenex box on the desk and lifted it in Annabelle’s direction. “Why didn’t Ingrid fit in with the knitting group? I would have thought, with her owning The Yarn Barn, the knitting ladies would have welcomed her with open arms? I understand she could be a little difficult, but still. We all have our foibles. Don’t we?”
Annabelle plucked a tissue from the box and paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “I think the biggest problem was her complete lack of humility. She always acted like she was better than the rest of us. Like she knew everything, and we didn’t match up to her life experiences or finances.” Annabelle rolled her eyes dramatically. “Plus, she had access to whatever natural fibers she wanted. That alone made some of the women in the group drool.” Annabelle pushed wiry red curls away from her face and wiped the remainder of caked eyeliner from under her eye with the tissue before continuing. “She would even brag about things like owning a pair of antique pure ivory knitting needles. But she wouldn’t show them to us. Who does that? Do you know how rare pure ivory knitting needles are? Very few even exist because they’re crafted from endangered animal tusks! The knitting group would have appreciated the opportunity to touch an antique like that and see the history of their craft firsthand. Legend has it they belonged to some sea captain’s wife. But I guess we weren’t ‘good
enough.’” Annabelle said as she made air quotes melodramatically, “for Ingrid to show us! Ingrid was all talk, no action, and quite frankly it annoyed people.”
“Thanks for being candid with me. I really wanted to understand. Community Craft is known for bringing people together, and I wanted to understand the separation. That’s all.” Sammy tried desperately to downplay what she had just heard from Annabelle. Because in her mind she had just heard another strong motive for murder: priceless artifacts.
“Well, I do feel bad talking so poorly about a woman who’s dead and can’t defend herself. I guess all I have right now in my life is guilt. Guilt over my marriage, guilt over Ingrid, guilt over leaving my needles behind to be used in a monstrous crime. I’m just plain sick with guilt!”
Sammy didn’t know how to respond. She had her own shortcomings to contend with. Instead, she changed the subject. “One more suggestion. One friend to another? You may want to visit the bathroom before you go join the other ladies to knit. You have a bit of mascara on your left cheek.”
“Thanks, Samantha. I’m glad we had this chat. I feel much better.” Annabelle rushed to the restroom to adjust her makeup before joining the rest of the ladies in the craft room.
Meanwhile, Ellie eyed her sister with a questioning expression to see if the two had made peace or were still ready for battle. “Seriously? Do we need any more drama?” Ellie’s eyes searched her sister to see what had transpired.
Sammy encouraged Ellie to follow her into the office so the two could have a moment of privacy, now that the entire knitting group was comfortably assembled in the craft room. When she finally felt convinced they were no longer in earshot, she said, “Our conversation cleared up a few things in my mind. At least now I know that Miles is as innocent as a newborn baby regarding the murder. Infidelity on the other hand? Well … that’s another story. That’s something they are most certainly guilty of.”