Needled to Death

by Sefton, Maggie

  Kelly picked up the folder containing the balance sheets for the business and paged back a few years, watching how carefully Vickie had built up her savings. Smart, very smart, Kelly thought, admiring Vickie’s financial discipline. That was usually the Achilles heel of most small businesses, she’d witnessed. Whether they tried to make a go without sufficient capital to begin with or they simply neglected to pay their required taxes, most small companies went belly up within five years. Kelly was always happy to find the ones that went on to succeed.

  Noticing that the last balance sheet in the folder was dated three months ago, Kelly jotted a note on the pad beside her elbow. So far, so good. She was beginning to get a picture of what was there, what was missing, and what she needed to do.

  “Aaaah! There it is,” Debbie spoke up from across the office. She leaned over the papers spread out on a side table.

  Kelly had set up a place for Debbie to sit and sort through documents while she used the desk and computer. “I thought you already found the insurance policy. What’re you looking for now?”

  “I was looking for the sheet with the funeral arrangements. I knew she had it here somewhere.” Debbie looked over at Kelly and smiled. “Mom told me she had a file with everything in it. I thought she meant one folder. She meant the whole cabinet.”

  “Oh, boy,” Kelly smiled ruefully. “What else do you need? I can stop this and help you get the policies.”

  “No, it’s okay. I’ve already called the insurance person and gotten that started. Now, I can tell Geri—”

  “Tell Geri what?” Geri asked, poking her head around the doorway. “I saw two cars parked outside, so I thought I’d drop by and see who was here. It’s about time that yellow police tape was removed. I see you beat me to it.”

  “Hey, Geri, good to see you,” Kelly greeted.

  “Ohhhh, yes, Geri, come in, come in,” Debbie beckoned. “We’re trying to put all these papers in order, and thanks to Kelly, I think we can do it.”

  Geri pulled out a straight-back chair and straddled it backward. “Have you found those instructions yet?”

  Debbie handed over the sheet. “Yes, here they are. It only took me two hours of searching.” She shook her head.

  Geri smiled. “No hurry. I’ll handle everything. If I need your signature, I’ll bring the papers to you.”

  “Geri, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Debbie said, her gratitude obvious. “You’ve been a lifesaver ever since I arrived.”

  “It’s the least I can do, Debbie. Your mom was my best friend. Is there anything else you need? Any help with the animals?”

  “No, Jayleen must have been here early in the morning, because they were already out in the pastures. We keep playing phone tag. She left me another message saying she was taking care of them.”

  A loud slam of the front door sounded, and a voice called out, “Helloooo! Who’s here?”

  Kelly recognized Jayleen’s voice, having listened to it at top volume when she vented her anger to the police detective.

  “We’re here in the office, Jayleen,” Geri called out.

  The sound of boots stomping across wooden floors got louder until Jayleen appeared in the doorway. Kelly noticed she looked surprised to see all of them there. “Hey, guys, what’s up?” she asked, strolling into the office.

  A slight look of displeasure seemed to pass over Debbie’s face, then was gone, Kelly noticed. “We’re trying to get all these papers in order, Jayleen. Insurance policies, bank accounts, things like that,” Kelly explained in her best offhand manner.

  “Hey, I can help with that,” Jayleen offered. “I do the accounts. I know where everything is—”

  Debbie held up her slender hand. “That’s okay, Jayleen. We’ve got it covered. The lawyer needs financial reports, and Kelly’s going to take care of everything since she’s a CPA and knows how to do all that.”

  “Oh . . . oh, sure, I understand,” Jayleen said, appearing slightly crestfallen. “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, you know, please let me know.”

  Feeling really uncomfortable now, Kelly jumped in. “I’ve got the file with all the income statements and balance sheets. You’ve done a great job, Jayleen. That makes it much easier when I do the financial reports.”

  Jayleen found a crooked smile. “Thanks. It’s just good software, that’s all.”

  Kelly grinned. “Don’t give me that. I know the business. Software doesn’t do it. You do. And you’ve done a good job.”

  “Thanks, Kelly.”

  Kelly nodded, then remembered something. “By the way, Jayleen, I noticed the last balance sheet was dated three months ago, yet the income statements are right up to date. Have you run an updated version yet?”

  Jayleen shook her head. “Nope. I was waiting on the quarterly reports from Vickie’s investment account. They should be in by now, but I wasn’t able to get into the office to run them.”

  “No problem. I’ll do it,” Kelly offered.

  “All the other statements are in the files.” Jayleen jerked her thumb toward the cabinet.

  “Thank you, Jayleen. You’ve been very helpful,” Debbie said, the sound of dismissal in her tone all too evident.

  Kelly flinched inwardly, feeling really embarrassed for Jayleen.

  Jayleen responded by staring at her boots for a second before she turned toward the door. “You know, I noticed Raja wasn’t acting like himself. I mean, he usually comes over whenever I come to the fence and whistle. The gals came, but Raja just stood out in the pasture and looked at me.”

  “He must be missing mom,” Debbie said sadly.

  “Maybe he picks up signals like our pets do,” Kelly suggested. “My dog, Carl, always picks up on my moods, so maybe alpacas do, too.”

  “Maybe so,” Jayleen said. “Well, it looks like you folks have everything in control here, so I’ll just get along. You still want me to take care of the animals, don’t you? I mean, they’re used to me. I’ve been doing it for years now.”

  Debbie nodded, a flicker of gratitude appearing for a moment. “Yes, that’ll be great, Jayleen. I simply cannot be carrying feed and letting them in and out. I’m afraid all that dust is already taking a toll.” She took a deep breath.

  Geri rose from her chair. “You okay?”

  Debbie gave a little wave. “Yes, but I think I’d better go back into town soon.”

  Kelly noticed Debbie’s pallor. “You know, I was about to head back into town, too. I can review these folders at home tonight. Why don’t we both leave now? That way, I can follow after you.”

  “Oh, would you, Kelly? I’d be ever so grateful,” Debbie said. “Let me get my things together.”

  Kelly did the same, gathering the files she needed to review and shoving everything into her briefcase.

  “Well, see you later, folks,” Jayleen said as she left.

  Geri paused at the door. “Listen, Debbie, if you need anything at all, let me know. Meanwhile, I’ll get on these arrangements. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  Kelly waved good-bye to both women, logged off the computer, and pushed back her chair to leave. She felt unsettled suddenly and didn’t know why. There was a lot more bubbling under the surface of Vickie’s family than she’d ever imagined.

  Carl was at the fence yelping a greeting as Kelly headed toward the cottage’s front door. “I’ll feed you in a minute, Carl. Hold on—”

  She broke off when she noticed a white paper attached to her outer screen door. Kelly snatched the typewritten note from the screen and read as she let herself into the house.

  “What the . . . ,” she said when she came to the second paragraph. “Carl!”

  Dumping her things on the dining room table, Kelly yanked open the patio door to the yard. Carl was already jumping about, long pink tongue dangling, clearly anticipating dinner.

  Kelly brandished the note and glared at her dog. “Carl, you’ve been stealing golf balls again, and I told you not to.”

  Carl’s
happy-dog expression disappeared, and his “Who, me?” face materialized.

  “Don’t give me that look,” Kelly accused. “This is a warning from the greenskeeper. He says if you steal balls one more time, we’ll have to go to court, and there will be a big fine.”

  Carl cocked his head and stared, obviously curious as to what had perturbed his owner. Kelly let out an exasperated sigh and glanced around the yard. Sure enough, there were several more golf balls than usual.

  “Okay, that’s it, big guy. You may not care if you get a police record, but I do. I do not want to pay to bail you out of doggie jail.”

  Kelly proceeded to walk around the yard, snatching up every newer-looking ball she found. Steve had brought Carl old used-up balls, so it wasn’t hard to tell the difference. Carl, of course, was right behind her, protesting ownership every step of the way. Once, he almost got to a ball before Kelly, but she snatched it first.

  “Don’t even think about it, Carl,” she warned, with her sternest naughty-dog-scolding voice. “You can keep the old ones, not these.”

  Kelly then swung her legs over the fence, strode to the edge of the course, and threw all the balls as far as she could. Being a really good ball player, Kelly could throw pretty far. She returned to the yard to find Carl lying on the ground, head between his outstretched paws, sulking.

  “Pout all you want,” Kelly said. “You’re coming inside with me after dinner. Furthermore, you’ll have to stay inside while I work on the computer, and I promise it won’t be any fun at all.”

  She wasn’t sure, but Kelly thought she saw Carl screw up his face in displeasure.

  Nine

  Mimi was draping a turquoise sleeveless sweater over the antique dry sink in the knitting shop’s center room when Kelly entered.

  “Why, hello, Kelly. I haven’t seen you over here early in the morning for a while,” she said with a bright smile. “Has your work load lightened up a bit?”

  “Actually, it’s increased, Mimi,” Kelly replied as she set her knitting bag on the library table. “I’ve agreed to help Debbie Hurst with her mother’s business accounts and prepare financial statements for the lawyers. So I guess you’d say I’m consulting, in addition to my regular office work, of course.”

  Mimi positively beamed. “That’s wonderful, Kelly! I knew you’d find some consulting sooner or later.”

  Noticing several bright eyelash yarn scarves dangling from a nearby cabinet door, Kelly fingered electric limeade and tangerine crush, envisioning one of her own. The last time she’d thought about making one of these scarves, she’d been interrupted. Maybe now was a good time.

  “Go ahead and indulge yourself, Kelly,” Mimi tempted. “I can tell you want to make one. Do it. It knits up so fast, you’ll have it done in no time.”

  Kelly shook her head with a rueful smile. “I’ve heard that before. You folks always say that, because it doesn’t take you guys any time at all. But me . . . ha!” She laughed. “Every time I start a new project, I find a way to screw it up.”

  “Not every time,” Mimi protested, giving Kelly a maternal pat on the arm. “What about your chunky wool scarf? Your very first project. You didn’t screw that up, did you?”

  Kelly had to admit she hadn’t. Hmmmm, she pondered. This would be a scarf. Maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe she could knit this up as easily as she knit the woolen scarf. The bold colors beckoned to Kelly again. Touch, touch. She couldn’t resist.

  “Okay, okay, I’ll give it a try,” she said, sinking her hands into the chest filled with jelly bean colors. “Can you help me get started?”

  “Absolutely. You pick a color while I get some size fifteen needles.” Mimi headed for the front of the shop.

  Kelly played in the overflowing chest, squeezing one yarn after another, even though they were equally soft. Which to choose? A brilliant turquoise blue and green combination, peacock bright, teased her, and Kelly held it up. Why not? She usually didn’t choose those colors, but it was fun trying something different. Walking to a side room to check the mirror, she held the fuzzy ball of yarn under her chin. Not bad, she decided.

  “Ohhhh, I love it,” Mimi concurred enthusiastically, peeking around the corner, needles in hand. “It’ll look great on you.”

  “I agree,” Lisa said, leaning around Mimi. “I was coming in and saw you picking yarns. It’s about time you made one of those scarves. You’ve been dying to try it.”

  Buoyed by the wave of enthusiasm from her friends, Kelly floated back toward the main room, convinced the scarf was hers to do. “Okay, here goes,” she said, settling into a chair beside the long table. “Thanks for getting the needles, Mimi. Now, how many do I cast on?”

  “For that kind of yarn and scarf, ten would be fine,” Mimi replied. “That’ll give you a scarf about this wide.” She held her fingers approximately three inches across. “They’re supposed to be long and narrow.”

  Kelly nodded as she poked into the soft ball to find a dangling end, and, finding it, she pulled enough to start knitting. “Okay, first I measure about three times the width to cast on, right?” she said, pulling the yarn between her fingers.

  “Good for you. You’re remembering,” Lisa said, settling at the table. She withdrew a colorful ribbon shawl from her bag.

  “I’m sure you won’t need any reminders how to cast on, Kelly,” Mimi said with a laugh as she headed toward her back office. “Not after starting your new sweater twice.”

  “Don’t remind me,” Kelly said with a groan, recalling all the casting on required for her sweater in the round. “That took forever, and I had to do it twice.” She wrapped the peacock yarn around her thumb and forefinger and began the intriguing movements required to cast stitches onto the needle.

  “Just think how good you are now, though,” Lisa reminded.

  “Yeah, yeah.” Kelly counted the stitches appearing on her needle. Six more to go. This new yarn definitely felt different. Each strand was soft but also skinny, with little fronds or “eyelashes” of fibers sticking out at intervals.

  “Hey, I didn’t see old Carl barking around in the yard when I drove up. He usually bounds over and says hello when I come.”

  “Carl is staying inside the house all day. He’s been a naughty dog.”

  “Uh-oh. Let me guess. Golf balls?”

  “Yep. I found a note on my front door yesterday, warning me that he’d be arrested and thrown in the slammer if he stole again.”

  “C’mon, what’d it really say?”

  “That there would be an official nuisance warning issued against Carl if he touched any more balls. And I’d have to go to court and pay a hefty fine.”

  “Ooooh, ugly.”

  “Definitely. I do not want to appear before some cranky judge and plead doggie mischief.”

  “Poor Carl. Stuck inside all day.”

  “Poor Carl, nothing. He brought this all on himself,” Kelly declared righteously. “I told him not to chase any more balls.”

  “C’mon, he’s a dog. He can’t stop chasing balls any more than he can stop trying to catch the squirrels.”

  “I know,” Kelly conceded, remembering a downcast Carl lying on the floor staring out the glass patio door, watching squirrels race across the fence unimpeded.

  Without Carl on patrol, the squirrels would have a high old time—digging in the flower pots, stealing apples from Aunt Helen’s apple tree. Kelly envisioned scores of insolent squirrels dancing about on the patio, deliberately teasing Carl behind the glass. The squirrels in her backyard were a sassy bunch. She’d even witnessed a squirrel steal one of Carl’s bones while he was stretched in the sun sound asleep. She found it in her gutter two weeks later.

  “You could always buy a long chain. That way he could still be outside,” Lisa suggested, her nimble fingers twisting ribbons around her needles.

  “Hey, good idea,” Kelly said, perking up at the thought. “Do we still have the big outdoors store north of town?”

  “Yep. They probably have
fifty-foot chains you could use. That way, Carl could still enjoy the yard but not get over the fence. And even if he did, he wouldn’t get very far.”

  Kelly smoothed out the three rows of stitches she’d created with the new yarn. The larger needles gave the fluffy yarn its loose, open effect. It was pretty already. Peacock blue and green cried, “Wear me! Wear me!”

  “I’ll buy a chain today. I just hope Carl doesn’t choke himself the first time he tries to chase a squirrel,” she said, pushing her needle beneath a slender fiber. Sometimes the fibers were hard to pick up with the bigger needles, she noticed, and it took several tries to slide beneath each stitch.

  “How’s the consulting going?” Lisa asked. “Megan told me you’re helping Debbie. That’s great.”

  Kelly smiled. The knitting shop’s grapevine was alive and well. News traveled faster here than in most offices she’d experienced. “She needed help with all the accounts. I haven’t a clue what to charge, though.”

  “Megan will help you with that.”

  “Well, well, look how much you’ve done, Kelly,” Mimi said as she drew up a spinning wheel at the end of the table. “I thought I’d join you gals while I finish up this fleece.”

  Kelly loved to watch Mimi spin, or Burt spin, or anyone else for that matter. She found the sound of the wheel soothing as it hummed its song. Mimi pulled the roving apart in her lap and started the wheel turning, her fingers working the fibers into strands, feeding the wheel. Yarn wound around the bobbin, fatter and fatter.

  “This is the last of Vickie’s fleeces,” Mimi said in a sad voice. “I’m going to mix this one with mohair and dye it shamrock green. That was Vickie’s favorite color.”

  The jangle of Kelly’s cell phone intruded. She slipped it from her purse and spoke softly, not wanting to shatter the quiet moment entirely. “This is Kelly.”