“Ohhhh, yeah,” Kelly said. “I tried to calm her down.”
“Don’t worry about it, Kelly. She’s simply being a mom. You gals are family to her, you know,” Burt said over the relaxing hum of the wheel as his fingers worked the roving.
“Okay, folks,” Kelly said, retrieving a spiral notebook from her tote bag. “Now that we’re all here, let’s see what we’ve got.” Glancing over her shoulders at the browsing customers wandering about, she added, “And remember to keep it down. We don’t want to alarm the locals.”
“I’ll start,” Burt said, letting the wheel slow to a stop. “The subject’s record is clean. Only minor traffic offenses. Speeding. Parking fines. No scrapes with the law. No complaints from neighbors. Belongs to the country club, various professional organizations, community, philanthropic, etc., etc. The usual. Nothing suspicious whatsoever.”
Kelly made notes as Burt spoke. “Okay, I might as well go next,” she volunteered. “I turned up nothing useful. The Wyoming agency, Sisters of Charity, no longer handles adoptions, and the Church Diocese was absolutely no help. All they said was they ‘think’ the adoption records are still in sealed boxes in the Diocese basement, but they’re not sure. And even if they were available, only the parties immediately involved would have access. Like the mother or the child. Also, my search for state agencies ran into a brick wall. Privacy rights and all that restrict access.” She gave a sigh. “So, I turned up nothing.”
“Well, I guess things really do come in three’s, because I came up empty, too,” Lisa remarked as she flipped open her water bottle and took a drink. “No record of Gre—” She caught herself. “Of the subject ever giving blood. At the hospital or at the Red Cross. So, nothing there. Also, he’s not a member of the health club. I even asked some of the freelance trainers if they knew him, and no luck there, either.”
“Well, I had very good luck,” Megan crowed discreetly and leaned over the table. “I found biographical info from when he was a speaker at a real estate convention. He’s married twenty-three years, has two teenagers, was born and raised in Cheyenne, Wyoming, and his birth date matches exactly. December 11, 1955. He went to the University of Wyoming and moved to Colorado twenty years ago. I even found an interview he gave to a business magazine where he mentions that he was adopted.” Megan’s eyes danced with obvious delight at her discoveries.
“Whoa, great job, Megan!” Kelly congratulated her and scribbled the information on her notebook.
“A-hem,” Jennifer spoke up. “Megan’s not the only one who hit pay dirt. I discovered that Gretsky’s been trying to recover from some bad real estate deals that went sour during the last couple of years. He puts on a good show, but it’s just that. Expensive tailoring, all flash and sizzle, but no steak. According to my source, who knows everything there is to know about every realtor in this town, Gretsky is hanging on by his fingernails, hoping for a break. And he’s depending on the Big Box deal to rescue him from financial disaster.”
Kelly sat quietly, absorbing what Jennifer said. Reason enough to kill in her book. “Great job, Jennifer,” she said. “That sounds like the key to Gretsky. Threat of financial collapse. I’d say that’s motive enough for murder.” She stared through the window outside. “We can use that to push him into confessing.”
“Whoa, Kelly, hold the phone,” Burt said, spinning wheel picking up speed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. Do you actually think a smooth operator like Gretsky is simply going to confess if you start asking him questions?”
“No, of course not,” Kelly admitted, then leaned over the table even more. “I’ve been thinking about this since last night. And asking questions isn’t going to get us anywhere. So I don’t plan to ask.” She gave an enigmatic smile.
“What are you going to do, then?” Lisa probed.
“I’ll let him do his realtor spiel, then I plan to go on the attack. Confront him. Shake him up. Accuse him. I want to wipe that phony smile off his face and make him mad.”
“Are . . . are you sure that’s a good idea?” Megan ventured.
Kelly nodded. “Remember, I’m not alone with him. You guys will be situated in adjoining rooms in case he threatens me.”
“Except for me,” Burt declared. “I’m staying in this corner.”
Kelly shook her head. “Sorry, Burt. He’ll clam up if he sees another man in the shop. I sense it. You can go into the spinning room right there,” she pointed to the corner room, jutting off the main area. “You can even fix a mirror on the shelves so you can keep an eye on us if you want.”
Burt scowled, clearly unhappy he wasn’t closer, but acquiesced. “Okay, but only if I can rig up a mirror. I want to make sure this guy doesn’t try something.”
Megan’s eyes grew huge. “Oh my gosh! Burt, do you think he’d try to hurt Kelly? I’ve got a bad feeling about this whole thing.”
“I’d like to see him try,” Kelly challenged.
“Don’t worry, Megan, I’ll come prepared,” Burt reassured.
“Whoa, this is getting more serious than I thought,” Lisa observed. “When are you planning on setting this up, Kelly?”
“I’m going to call Gretsky this afternoon and ask him to meet me here early tomorrow morning, say eight o’clock. That way, we’ll avoid having customers in the shop.”
“Hey, wait a minute,” Jennifer spoke up. “We’ll still have customers because the restaurant opens at six thirty A.M., so people will be here. How do you want to handle them?”
“I figured we could use those wooden screens Mimi uses to close off sections of the shop for classes. We could block off access going to the classroom area and the weaving room. So, your job, Jennifer, would be to make sure none of the café customers slips through into the shop, okay?”
“Gotcha. I can do that.” Jennifer nodded.
“Megan and Lisa, why don’t you two sit at the end of the classroom by the windows, so you can see but are too far away to hear our conversation.” Kelly pointed, indicating the adjacent room. “Sit and knit and talk normally. I want Gretsky to feel totally comfortable. I’m going to be sitting at this end of the table alone when he arrives. He can join me here.”
“Where are you going to put Mimi?” Megan asked.
“We’ll make her stay in her office. And you and Lisa will have to make sure she doesn’t peek out, okay?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lisa agreed. “What time do you want us here tomorrow?”
“Why don’t we all get here a little after seven, okay?” Kelly glanced around and watched her friends nod in agreement. “I’m going to call Gretsky right now and tell him he has to come at eight o’clock tomorrow morning if he wants to talk to me about selling my property. He’s got one chance.”
“He’ll be here,” Jennifer concurred.
“And so will we,” Burt added, gray eyebrows knotting.
Kelly caught Jennifer’s eye and smiled. “Better tell Eduardo to make an extra pot of coffee tomorrow morning. We’re going to need it.”
Twenty
Kelly stroked the gathered bunches of mohair that draped along the wall beside the bookshelves of the main room. She tried not to pace, but it was impossible. So, she’d stop every few steps and squeeze a tempting yarn, caress a silky sweater, or fondle a frothy shawl.
Glancing over her shoulder, she observed Lisa and Megan doing the same. They were all too keyed up to sit down. Only Burt seemed calm, as the sound of his spinning wheel hummed steadily from the corner room. Craning her neck, Kelly spied the mirror Burt had discreetly wedged between the wools. Sure enough, she saw Burt spinning away, hands methodically working the roving into strands to feed the hungry wheel.
Jennifer’s voice sounded behind her. “I think we have a visitor,” she said, glancing toward the windows. “Here comes a black Lexus, and it’s one minute to eight. He’s right on time. Good luck.” She sped through the middle room and was gone.
“Okay, folks, black Lexus at eight o’clock. It must be him,” Kelly announced and headed for her spot at the end of the library table. The morning sun felt good as she picked up her practice piece and needles, pretending to knit.
The door jangled as it opened, and Gretsky’s voice sounded, “Hello? Ms. Flynn, are you there?”
“In here, Mr. Gretsky,” Kelly called out. “The main room with the fireplace, to your left.” Her heart speeded up its already fast pace.
Gretsky appeared in the archway and gave Kelly a dazzling grin before he approached. It was all she could do not to gag. He was dressed as if he were about to be named realtor of the year, she noticed, mentally adding the wardrobe’s likely cost.
“Ah, Ms. Flynn, how good to see you again.” He glanced about. “I didn’t think the shop opened this early.”
“It doesn’t. We’re here to help Mimi start sorting and packing. She has to leave this location. Apparently the new landlord doesn’t want to rent. They want to sell.” Kelly kept her attention on moving her needles through already-completed stitches, hoping Gretsky wouldn’t notice that she was knitting nothing—thanks to Hilda.
“Oh, that’s a shame,” he replied in a sympathetic tone as he sat in the closest chair. “She’s had this shop for several years, hasn’t she?”
Smarmy bastard. We’re going to nail you to the wall. She took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s really sad.”
“I gather you had time to examine the purchase offer, Ms. Flynn. May I call you Kelly? I like to be on first names with people.”
Kelly gritted her teeth. “Please do.”
He leaned back into the chair and withdrew a small notepad and fountain pen from his breast pocket. A Mont Blanc, no doubt. “I’m sure you had time to consider the generous nature of my clients’ offer, Kelly. You can rid yourself of that high-rate mortgage with the proceeds and leave here with money to spare. I know you’ll be glad to get on with your life.”
Kelly couldn’t listen to another word. She set her pretend knitting aside and fixed Gretsky with a glare. Using her coldest corporate voice, she asked, “Why didn’t you just take the twenty thousand dollars and leave Helen alone? Why’d you kill her? Did she refuse to sell her property? Was that it? What drove you to murder your own mother?”
Gretsky went white in an instant. He opened his mouth but no words came out. He stared at Kelly with huge blue eyes. Helen’s eyes, Kelly realized in that same instant. So that’s why she’d liked him at first. He has Helen’s eyes. Son of a . . . even her dad’s full-blown navy curses wouldn’t do justice now.
She leaned forward defiantly. “Did she threaten to tell her lawyer, Lawrence Chambers, about you? He told me she called him the day she died and said she was coming in to change her will. She wanted the property to become gardens for the city if I didn’t want it. Helen did that because of you, didn’t she, Gretsky? Because you were threatening her, pushing her—”
Gretsky sprang from his chair, face flushed with rage now. “What madness are you spouting, woman? Are you insane? Accusing me of . . . of murder! How dare you?”
Flushed with her own sense of righteous indignation, Kelly sprang from her chair and faced off with him, toe to toe.
“How are you going to explain having Helen’s heirloom quilt in your possession when her will states it belongs to me?” Kelly pointed toward the cottage. “It’s back on my wall where it belongs, Gretsky. But the woman in the frame shop will be glad to testify that you brought it in the day after Helen’s murder. Your name’s on the invoice. How are you going to explain that?”
Gretsky’s lips twitched. “I . . . I bought it from her. When I went to see her about her property . . . several weeks ago. I admired it and she sold it to me.” His features composed themselves once again as he glared at Kelly.
Kelly crossed her arms in front of her. “Sure you did. How much did you pay for it? Did you pay in cash? Did you write a check? If what you’re saying is true, then there’ll be proof. A paper trail, Gretsky. Even if you paid with a wad of cash you carry around in your pocket, Helen would have deposited any money given to her. I should know. I kept her accounts. And there would be a record of it.”
His eyes darkened as they narrowed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Just like there’ll be a record of the twenty thousand dollars you took from the house that night,” she kept on pressing. “There’s proof Helen had all twenty thousand in cash that night, yet not one bill was found. The vagrant in jail didn’t have a dime on him when arrested. Police found nothing. That’s because you had it. And unless you stuffed all twenty thousand in your mattress, there’ll be a paper trail of that, too, Gretsky. Even if you tried to send it offshore, we can find it.”
“You are truly insane, Ms. Flynn, and I’m not continuing this conversation a moment longer.” He turned on the heel of his expensive Italian loafers, but Kelly’s reflexes were quicker. She kicked over his chair, startling Gretsky long enough so she could run in front of him, blocking his escape.
“Do you know what I do for a living, Gretsky? I’m a corporate CPA. That means I know how to tie your finances into so many knots you won’t be able to access your assets for years. Do you have enough cash reserve to support yourself and your family for two or three years until this case comes to trial? Of course you don’t. I know how precarious your financial situation is right now. That’s why you were so desperate to do this deal with Big Box. But Helen was in the way, wasn’t she? That’s why you killed her.”
Gretsky’s color began to fade again, and his mouth twitched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m going to talk to my lawyer right now and bring charges against you, Ms. Flynn. For defamation of character and slander. You should be committed.”
Kelly didn’t miss a beat. “While you’re at it, ask him how much it costs to defend against a civil suit. Because that’s what I’m going to ask Lawrence Chambers to bring. We may not have enough to force the police to bring a criminal case against you, Gretsky, but civil court is a whole different ballgame. All we need is a preponderance of evidence to prove wrongful death in Helen’s case. That’s easier for a jury to decide. A majority is all that’s needed.”
She watched fear flash across Gretsky’s pale face, then was gone. He was on the brink. All she had to do was push him a little more. Kelly closed in on him, right up to his face, deliberately challenging. “What happened that night? You were already on the edge. What pushed you over?” she prodded.
An ugly sneer twisted Gretsky’s mouth, and Kelly had no doubt she was the focus of his rage. “You conniving bitch,” he hissed as he raised his hand to strike.
Kelly didn’t flinch. “Careful, Gretsky, I don’t go down as easily as Helen.”
Different emotions played across his face now, Kelly noticed. The rage was gone, but fear had taken its place. Gretsky dropped his hand. “I’m getting out of here. I’m going to see my lawyer.” He turned and headed for the foyer.
Kelly spotted Burt slipping through the weaving room, obviously heading for the foyer the back way. She had to stop Gretsky from leaving. Shake him up to slow him down. She’d used everything she had, and he still stonewalled. There was only one thing left, and it might not work. Kelly gambled and threw the dice anyway.
“Is that bandage on your hand from where Helen stabbed you? There was a broken knitting needle lying beside her body. She defended herself the only way she could. It must have been a deep wound, because it bled a lot.”
Gretsky’s step slowed, and he paused near the doorway.
“You tried to wipe up the blood with the purple wool, didn’t you?” Kelly continued, slowly walking up behind him. “Blood specks were found on the carpet. Police did DNA tests and have the results now. They don’t match Helen or the jailed suspect. That’s because it’s your blood, isn’t it, Gretsky?”
This time Gretsky paused at the doorway, and his ha
nd reached out to a nearby crate filled with canary-yellow yarn. He appeared to brace himself as his head bent forward. Kelly sensed he was balancing on the edge, but the ground was crumbling beneath his feet.
She gave the last nudge. “If you’re innocent, you’ll want to prove it, won’t you? That’s easy. Just give police a blood sample, and this will all be over.”
Something inside collapsed, and Gretsky seemed to fold in on himself. He leaned against the doorway to the foyer. Burt appeared behind him and stepped forward, slipping his arm beneath Gretsky’s, holding him up.
“Why don’t you sit down and get this off your chest, Mr. Gretsky,” Burt suggested gently, as he guided him back to the main room. “Tell us what happened. I’m sure you didn’t mean to do it. What went wrong that night?”
Kelly picked up the fallen chair, and Burt guided Gretsky straight to it. He sank into the chair and leaned his head back, eyes closed. Kelly spied Megan and Lisa edge around the library table, and Jennifer peeked from the classroom.
Burt caught Lisa’s attention and made a telephone sign with his hand. Lisa stealthily retreated to the classroom once more, calling the police, Kelly figured.
Gretsky heaved a huge sigh, more a shudder than a sigh. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this . . .” he whispered at last. “She should have sold me the land. It was so easy . . . why didn’t she? None of this would have happened. Oh, God . . .” He bent forward and sank his face into his hand.
Kelly waited for the sound of weeping, but it didn’t come. Instead a bitter, rancorous voice emanated, full of rage and pain. “Why? Damn it, why? I’ve tried so hard. Done everything that they did. Wined and dined the same people, boozed and kissed ass, and still the deals didn’t come. Why? I did everything they did. Looked the same, talked the same. Never good enough. Always falling short. Never quite measuring up. Smug bastards. Keeping me out.”
Knit One, Kill Two Page 26