A Crafter Knits a Clue

by Holly Quinn

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Sammy stepped out of her morning shower refreshed and renewed. Before fully dressing, she slathered her arms and legs with Mrs. Brown’s handmade lavender lotion. Instantly, the soothing scent calmed her nerves. When she had finally succumbed to sleep the preceding night, it was the soundest sleep she’d had in weeks. Even considering the encounter with the strange man in the dark blue Chevy Malibu, her body must have just given in to the exhaustion. He had come to taunt her. Not to ask directions. Intuitively she felt convinced of that. But she refused to let him have the upper hand and be bullied by his scare tactics.

  She slipped into her most comfortable pair of faded Levi’s, the ones with a slight tear in the knee, but she didn’t care. Today was about comfort and confidence. After stepping barefoot into the closet, she pulled her favorite pale pink and white muted plaid cotton blouse off the hanger and slipped it over a pastel pink tank. After a stroke of rose blush to her cheeks and some cinnamon lip gloss, she covered her feet in a pair of low ankle white cotton socks.

  Sammy padded down the stairs where Bara came to attention at the sight of her, lifting his head from his water bowl. “Hey, sweet Bara,” she cooed and then opened the back door, where he took his cue and headed outside. She slipped into her Sketchers that idly waited by the matt.

  The doorbell rang and instead of following her dog out into the back yard, Sammy instead turned in the other direction and headed toward the front of the house to open the front door. Her hair was still wet from the shower, so she shook it out like Bara after a swim in the lake, and combed her fingers through it. Then she opened the door.

  “Come on in,” Sammy held open the screen door, and Detective Liam Nash stepped inside. “Coffee?” she asked over her shoulder, as she moved toward the kitchen. He followed her and nodded his head in agreement.

  “Sure. I’ll take a quick cup.” He stood at the kitchen island and searched around his feet. “Where’s the Golden?”

  “Out in the backyard.” Sammy jutted a thumb in the direction of the back door and then handed the detective a steaming cup of black coffee. “Did you want creamer? I only have French Vanilla.”

  “I’ll take a squirt.”

  “Help yourself.” She handed him a spoon and gestured to the creamer that stood atop the center island.

  As he was stirring the coffee slowly in the mug, he asked. “Sleep well?”

  “Yeah, considering.”

  “Considering what?”

  “My encounter last night.”

  “Encounter?” He blew into the steaming cup of java and then took a sip, making a slurping noise.

  “Remember that guy I told you about? The guy I wanted you to have sketched? You know … The one with the blue car?”

  “Ahh, yes. Where did you go last night after I dropped you off? I mean, where exactly did you see him?”

  “I was here, in the front yard with Bara just after you left. He stopped and asked directions to Brady Street. Who does that so late at night?” She handed him a piece of scratch paper. “Here’s a partial license plate, anyway.”

  His eyes narrowed as he read the paper and then looked up. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because you said it was no big deal! I’ve told you about him before, and you basically blew me off and called me ridiculous.” Sammy took a sip of her coffee and then set the mug down on the counter top.

  The detective rolled his eyes. “Samantha Kane. Whatever am I going to do with you?”

  Sammy shrugged her shoulders and then moved to the back door and opened it. Bara bounded into the kitchen, filling the tiny space between them.

  The two finished the remainder of their coffee in silence, and then Sammy snatched her leather purse from the counter top. “Whenever you’re ready?” She was anxious to get going, not only to have her car returned, but also to have the freedom of using her vehicle for solitary investigation.

  Liam Nash leaned his head back to retrieve the last drop of his coffee, moved to the sink, and rinsed out the mug. He set the rinsed cup neatly inside the sink. For some reason, this amused Sammy. She grabbed his arm and shook it to encourage him to hurry up and move along toward the front of the house. She patted her puppy goodbye and then closed and locked the front door behind them.

  What a joy it was to step outside no longer needing a jacket. The warm spring sun was streaming in the morning sky, sending bright reflections off the detective’s silver car. Sammy plucked sunglasses from her purse, placed them on her face, and pushed them up on her nose with her index finger before sliding into the passenger seat. His car was beginning to feel familiar. As if Liam Nash had been in her life forever. She wondered if they would ever see each other after this case was closed. She brushed the thought aside as she wasn’t sure exactly how that would make her feel.

  A comfortable quiet hung between them as the detective drove toward the service station. “You seem to be learning your way around the town pretty quickly,” Sammy noted as she watched the ease and comfort with which the detective was taking side roads to reach their destination.

  “It’s pretty easy to find my way around town. I love the fact that I don’t have to drive in heavy traffic anymore. Heartsford is a nice little community.”

  “Yeah. We’re spoiled here as far as that goes. I don’t miss the traffic of Madison either.”

  Liam Nash pulled up to the service station and put the car in park but left the engine running. He turned to Sammy. “I’ll keep an eye out for the partial license plate—see if I can get any information on who owns the car. Stay safe. You hear me?”

  Sammy nodded and smiled. “Thanks for the ride. I do appreciate it.”

  After paying the bill for the car repair and retrieving the keys to her car from the service manager, Sammy was on her way. Only she wasn’t going to Community Craft. Not yet.

  Instead, Sammy pulled away from the repair shop and headed in the direction of Brady Street. She retrieved the Google Map on her phone to familiarize herself with that part of town. Why would the strange man ask for directions to that road? She took a left at the next traffic light. After passing the high school, something about the direction she was taking seemed vaguely familiar. She veered right … past the bend in the road.

  Sammy had been down this road before, but it had been a long time ago. Years to be exact. She passed the house that looked like it was made out of gingerbread, like something out of a nursery rhyme. The familiar landmark Kate always mentioned she wanted to someday own. Suddenly it dawned on her. This was the direction she and Kate had traveled when they had driven to Gary’s parents’ house. The few times Kate had picked Gary up to go to school and Sammy had been a passenger, they had taken these exact roads.

  Finally, Sammy took the last turn onto Brady Street. As she drove closer to Gary’s parents’ house, she was surprised to see a bit of commotion. Cars lined both sides of the road. It appeared a rummage sale was taking place. She pulled her car to the curb and jammed the gear shift into park when she noticed the strange man walking from the sale about five cars ahead—to the dark blue Chevy Malibu. He slipped into the car and pulled from the curb before Sammy even had a chance to shut the driver’s door and retrieve the rest of the numbers and letters from the license plate.

  Sammy noticed Greta organizing items behind a long twelve-foot table. She rushed over to her to see if she knew the unidentified man. She didn’t waste any time for fear the car would disappear again.

  “Do you know that guy?” Sammy pointed to the taillights of the Malibu, which was stopped at the end of the street before turning right, away from Brady Street.

  “It’s Dustin Briggs. A friend of Gary’s from rehab. Why?”

  “Just wondering. I’ve seen him around town. He stopped me for directions recently. Like anyone wouldn’t know how to get from point A to B in our small town,” Sammy added lightly, trying to downplay her interest in the man. “I’m assuming he’s been to your parents’ house before?”


  Greta nodded in agreement. “Yes, he’s been here many times.”

  Sammy knew he hadn’t been asking for directions last night! But she eased her breathing and calmed her voice. The last thing she wanted to do was tip Greta off that she was still nosing around into her brother’s business. “So … having a big sale?”

  Greta eyed her curiously before answering. “We’re having an estate sale. The house is going on the market in a few days. Mom and Dad have decided to move.”

  “Where are they moving? Are you moving too?” Sammy felt a jolt of surprise at the news she had just heard.

  Greta didn’t answer because an impeccably dressed woman, wearing a muted, stylish sundress with a perfectly made-up face to match, interrupted with a bread maker in her hands.

  “Would you take ten for this?” she asked Greta.

  “I don’t know … it’s only been used a handful of times. I’ll go ask my mother, she’s inside the house. It belongs to her.” Greta rushed from the table. By the look on her face, she was happy to have an escape so she could dodge Sammy’s question about where they were moving.

  The woman stood with the bread maker and defended her cause to Sammy. “I can’t believe they want fifteen dollars for this,” she said as she rolled her perfectly shadowed eyes.

  Sammy was silently amused at how the well-dressed, wealthy ones always had to haggle their price down. She smiled at the woman but didn’t respond. Instead she searched for Gary but didn’t see him among the shoppers.

  Sammy’s eyes traveled to a craft area inside of the garage where it looked as if Greta was selling all her knitting items. Skeins of multicolored yarns, patterns, and needles were all laid out on one long table. She wondered why Greta would give this stash away for pennies on the dollar? Unless she was giving up the craft? Sammy decided to take a closer look. Before walking over to the table, she craned her neck to see if Greta was back outside, so she could confront her about why she was selling it all. Greta had returned and was standing with the bread maker lady consumed in deep conversation.

  Sammy moved to the table and confirmed that it had to be every knitting supply the woman owned. One large stack of aluminum knitting needles held together in a rubber band was selling for much less than their combined worth. Sammy rolled them in her hand. Each knitting needle had a pair. Except one. One lonely green aluminum needle stood out alarmingly from the pile. Sammy’s stomach tightened, and her heart hammered in her chest. She felt light headed as if she could faint any moment. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. She was positive. She knew exactly where the other half of the green aluminum pair was. In Ingrid Wilson’s neck.

  “What are you looking for?” Gary had stepped out of the house, into the garage, and slipped uncomfortably close behind Sammy. So close, she felt his breath on her neck. The shock of his voice made her legs feel like rubber bands. She braced herself by gripping the table with one hand but turned to him showing a big smile. “Just browsing.”

  “Find anything you like?” His dark eyes traveled sensuously from her feet to her face before finally meeting her eyes.

  “Nothing I like. But something I don’t understand.” Sammy said politely.

  “What’s that?” Gary ran a hand through his straight dirty blond hair. He shifted his weight and rested one narrow hip against the table with casual ease.

  “Why anyone would sell one knitting needle amongst a group of pairs? Greta wouldn’t do that? It’s useless. Unless, of course, the person who put it there knew nothing about knitting. Someone like you. You don’t know that knitting needles are only sold in pairs. You put it there. Didn’t you? That green knitting needle doesn’t belong to your sister. It came from The Yarn Barn. And you put it with Greta’s things to hide it. Not a smart move.” Sammy pointed to the lone green needle sticking out—in her mind—disturbingly from the rest.

  Gary visibly stiffened. “I’m actually quite smart. I pulled that one out of the yarn with my bare hand and, knowing it was now covered in my DNA, I took it with me and just dumped it in with my sister’s craft junk. I used the other one, which was all covered in some stupid knitting project, to do the deed and not leave a trace.” Stunned by the sudden confession, he tried to retract his statement, but it was too late. “I mean if I was there that’s what I would have done.”

  Gary’s teeth came together hard. His jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. He grabbed Sammy tightly by the arm as he said through gritted teeth, “I think you’ve taken this far enough. Dustin warned me you wouldn’t stop. In fact, he knew you would show up on Brady Street. He knew you would take the bait. But I didn’t listen. I wanted to spare your life, but you’re leaving me no other choice.” He led her quickly outside the garage, sharply around the corner, out of the eyesight of the other shoppers before she even had the chance to refuse. Part of her wanted to scream. The stronger part though wanted answers.

  “This friend of yours … Dustin. He helped you, right? He drove you from the scene of the crime. I know you murdered Ingrid Wilson … what I can’t figure out is why? Why would you do such a thing?” Sammy searched his face for answers. The scar along his jaw line was pulsating. He pushed her deeper into the back yard, toward impenetrable woods, farther from earshot.

  “It wasn’t intentional. She wouldn’t listen to me! It was my money! It belonged to me. She cashed the IRA for me and was holding out! The old bat wouldn’t give me what was mine.”

  “What do you mean by that? Why would Ingrid have your money?” His grip was progressively tighter on Sammy’s arm, feeling instantly familiar. The way his slender fingers dug into her flesh. Her mind rapidly triggered back to the costumed man with the green painted face and purple pointed hat. “It was you wasn’t it? You were the one in the costume who attacked me during Spring Fling!” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she was sickened by them. How could Gary do such a thing to her? They had gone to school together, for heaven’s sakes.

  “I was trying to warn you. You never could keep your nose out of it. Even when I was dating Kate you had to stick your nose in.” Gary moved them deeper and farther away from safety.

  “I just don’t understand who you’ve become, Gary. I guess I was right to try and break you and Kate up in high school. You’re a horrible person.” It was the first time since Kate’s passing that Sammy was glad her best friend wasn’t alive to have to witness this. Kate would have been absolutely horrified to find out her ex-boyfriend was involved in such a heinous crime.

  “Ingrid killed my biological mother! She owed me!” The venom in his voice sent a ripple of fear down Sammy’s back. They were getting closer to the thick woods. Closer to being hidden from sight. Closer to no return.

  “Who told you that? It was your Aunt Charlotte, wasn’t it? She still blames Ingrid for her sister’s death. Well your aunt Charlotte is wrong. It was a horrible accident, Gary. Ingrid didn’t mean it. Olivia was her best friend. Ingrid didn’t cause the car accident on purpose, she wasn’t drunk. It was the deer that put fate in motion.” Sammy tried to keep her voice calm. She knew that being hauled into the dense pine forest with Gary was a dangerous proposition. She tried to wriggle from his grasp, but he only gripped tighter. So tight, in fact, her hand began to tingle.

  “Ingrid knew the accident was her fault,” he spat. “Why do you think she moved back to Heartsford? She was looking for me. My aunt Charlotte found me first, though, then Ingrid saw us together, and it made her angry. Ingrid wanted to get to me first and convince me of her side of the story. I told Ingrid to cash the IRA, and she did. But then she changed her mind. My aunt Charlotte said I should file a civil case against her for killing my mother! Ingrid Wilson had family money to spare, and I was going to sue her for every last nickel of it. That is my money! And the old bat knew it and wouldn’t give it to me unless I went back to rehab. Who does she think she is? She is not my mother! She doesn’t get to make the rules! I grabbed the first thing I saw on the counter and let her have it. Dustin and I were close to finding
the cash—until you started butting in,” he said, spitting saliva as he spoke.

  “So, you decided to exploit the woman’s guilt for being the driver that took the life of your mother? It was an accident. I know your life could have been different knowing your biological mother. But your adoptive parents love you, Gary. You’ve had a good life here … What about them? And your sister loves you too. What about Coach? Why would you hurt him?” Sammy’s eyes darted along the ground to find an escape. They were now tramping through the thick pine, and she knew if they went deeper into the forest she would not return unharmed.

  “I didn’t do nothing to the coach. That was Dustin. He thought the coach would find the cash first after Ingrid died. My money! She cashed the IRA for me!” he jabbed his chest with his free finger.

  “And you broke into her house to find it. Didn’t you? Actually, you stole her keys after you killed her. That’s why there was no evidence of a break-in. But I beat you to it! I found the money first.” Sammy seethed. “That’s why Dustin has been stalking me!”

  Gary didn’t respond, he just pushed her deeper into the copious trees.

  Finally, after some thought, Gary mumbled out of the side of his mouth. “Dustin has been following you because he wants his money. He’s my drug dealer, and I owe him big time. If I don’t pay up…” Gary let the assumption hang in the air. And Sammy filled in the blanks. Gary’s safety and that of his family would be at risk.

  “You owe Dustin a lot of money and now he’s not only threatening you, he’s threatening your family too. That’s why your parents are putting the house up for sale, isn’t it?”