Close Knit Killer

Home > Other > Close Knit Killer > Page 14
Close Knit Killer Page 14

by Maggie Sefton


  “Did you see that article in the paper this morning?” Julie asked, leaning closer to Kelly.

  “Probably not. I only had time to glance at the paper before I jumped in the shower. I had early client calls. What was it?”

  “I didn’t, either, but Rosa says there was a short article about car thefts and robberies in this part of town recently. And it said there was a gang of four guys who stole some woman’s SUV from the Big Box parking lot late one night last week. And there have been other car thefts in the Big Box lot the week before. Rosa thinks they might be involved in Rizzoli’s murder.” Julie emphasized the last word in a dramatic whisper.

  “Wow, I hadn’t heard that.”

  “I mean, maybe they tried to steal his fancy car and Rizzoli fought back? Maybe they killed him out of panic.”

  Kelly had to give Julie credit. She’d certainly created a credible scenario. “Who knows, Julie? That could be possible.”

  “I’m hoping the cops start looking for those guys and leave Barbara and that poor man Malcolm alone,” Julie added as she wiped a nearby tabletop.

  “I hope you’re right, Julie,” Kelly agreed in an encouraging voice, wishing that could be true. Unfortunately, even if the gang of car thieves were experienced criminals, they still wouldn’t have been able to swipe Jennifer’s cell phone and send a secret text to her real estate client. Alas, that act was done by someone far more familiar to the Lambspun staff and the people who frequented the shop.

  Thirteen

  Kelly hurried up the steps to Pete’s café’s back door. The caffeine lobe of her brain had been throbbing throughout the phone call from one of her Warner Associates colleagues. Kelly thought she’d remembered to buy coffee when at the store. Alas, she had not. The canister was as empty as the proverbial gourd when Kelly opened it this morning. Steve gave her a quick kiss and raced over to the fast-food outlet in the Big Box shopping center across the street to grab some coffee and a bagel before attacking the interstate to Denver. Only an intense two-mile run and a hot shower helped Kelly drive from the house to the knit shop and café. Her colleague caught her mid-drive. It was all she could do to keep a civil tongue.

  Kelly charged through the door and headed straight for the grill, both arms outstretched and stiff, TV-zombie style. “Coffee! Coffee!” she croaked in guttural zombie-speak.

  Julie hooted with laughter as Kelly lurched toward the grill. Eduardo simply grinned, gold tooth showing. He’d met Zombie Kelly many times before.

  “Oh, look, everyone! It’s the Walking Caffeine-Deprived!” Jennifer teased, pointing to Kelly. She snatched the mug dangling from Kelly’s hand.

  “Fill it quick!” Kelly instructed as she leaned her arms on the counter above the grill where Eduardo was turning bacon strips. Their sizzle sent an unbelievably tempting aroma into the air. Kelly inhaled the luscious scent and her stomach growled. “I forgot to buy coffee last night and had to do a two-mile run, shower, and drive here with no sustenance.”

  “Didn’t you eat?” Jennifer asked as she poured the divine black stream into Kelly’s mug.

  “I forgot that, too.” Kelly gave her a sheepish look. “I was counting on the run and hot shower to help me make it here. Unfortunately, one of my Warner colleagues made the mistake of calling while I was midway through my hunger drive.”

  “I pity that guy,” Julie said, as she lifted a basket of breakfast breads—cinnamon toast, bran muffins, hot biscuit—to her tray.

  “You’d have been proud of me. I didn’t take his head off. And I was able to control the Hunger Beast during the entire call.” Noticing two crumbs of muffins that dropped to the counter, Kelly licked her finger and captured them.

  “Did you see that, Eduardo?” Jennifer said. “We need to feed her fast.”

  “I’ve got just what you need, Kelly,” Eduardo said as he placed a crisp bacon slice on a small plate in front of her. “That ought to keep starvation away until you order.”

  “Ooooh, bacon!” Kelly’s eyes lit up. A childhood and into-adulthood favorite. “Thanks, Eduardo.” She popped the slice into her mouth and savored the luscious, familiar flavors. “Mmmm.”

  “It’s the fat. Works every time,” Jennifer said, giving a sage nod. “She’s coming around. Saved from zombie-hood in the nick of time. Why don’t you sit over there at the smaller table and have breakfast.”

  “Wait, I’m communing with the caffeine gods.” Kelly inhaled the aroma drifting up from her mug. Then she took a deep drink. “Ahhhh, now I’m saved.” She dropped her briefcase on the chair. “But starvation is about to set in. Why don’t I continue down that fattening road Eduardo started me on and have an order of biscuits and gravy. Add a little sausage to the bacon.”

  “Why not?” Jennifer scribbled on her pad and placed the order on the counter. “She’s staying on the Fat Road, Eduardo. Biscuits and gravy.”

  “You girls make me laugh.” He grinned. “Always worrying about your weight. A little bacon is good for you,” he decreed as he flipped over two spicy homemade sausages.

  “I thought you always said it ‘never hurt anybody.’ Don’t confuse me, Eduardo.” Kelly settled into the chair beside the window looking into the garden and tables outside. She spotted Hal Nelson and Malcolm carrying two large paint cans into the remodel.

  “Rosa swears by it,” Jennifer said. “Ask her. She says it’s good for your skin.”

  Now Kelly was really confused. “Your skin? What do you do, smear bacon grease on your face?”

  This time Eduardo cackled out loud, joined by Julie, who was loading two breakfast platters onto her tray. “Crazy Kelly.” He shook his head as he cracked two eggs at a time into his mixing bowl.

  “No, silly, you eat it,” Jennifer said, laughing softly. “You accountants are too literal.”

  “Hey, we can’t help it. The numbers make us that way.” She took another deep drink and savored.

  “You guys were gone for that tournament in Denver this weekend, right? I know you’d mentioned it.”

  “All of us except Megan and Marty. Curt was having a family gathering at his ranch Saturday afternoon, so they opted out. Say, didn’t Cassie go to that? I was here when Jayleen asked her last week.”

  Jennifer wiped off an empty table, pocketing the tip and check. “She had a blast. Jayleen actually took the time to drive over and pick up Cassie and take her to Curt’s. She called around dinnertime and said the kids were still playing and having a great time and wanted to know if Cassie could stay for more burgers and chili.”

  “It sounds like Cassie was enjoying herself. That’s great.”

  Jennifer looked over at Kelly. “Cassie loved Curt’s ranch. Jayleen told me she was captivated by the sheep and the cattle. And the horses. Oh, boy. She just loved them. Curt and Jayleen took all the kids for horseback rides. Just around the property. Cassie had never been on a horse before.”

  Kelly smiled, watching her friend’s face light up as she related Cassie’s adventures. “Oh, I’m so glad Cassie had a good time, Jen. I know you and Pete were worried about her making friends. I keep forgetting how old Curt’s grandkids are.”

  “They’re all ages, and Curt has a bunch of nieces and nephews and grandnieces and – nephews.” She looked out the window. “And there are two or three Cassie’s age. Jayleen said Cassie fit right in.”

  “I can picture Jayleen watching over Cassie like a mother hen, can’t you?” Kelly said from behind her mug.

  “Ohhhh, yeah,” Jennifer said, catching Kelly’s gaze. “I can’t tell you how grateful Pete and I are that Jayleen and Curt have been so welcoming. Jayleen even invited Cassie to her ranch this week. Wasn’t that sweet?”

  Kelly nodded. “It sure was. That sounds just like them. Well, if Cassie liked Curt’s ranch in the foothills, she’s going to love Jayleen’s spread up in the mountains.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  “You know, I watched Jayleen the first time she met Cassie, and you could tell she really took to her. That
’s not surprising. Remember, Jayleen doesn’t get to see her kids or grandchildren down in Colorado Springs. So, she’s a grandmother without grandchildren. Don’t be surprised if she adopts Cassie.”

  “Just like Mimi. Mimi doesn’t have grandkids, either. We predicted that Mimi would take to Cassie like a cat to cream. And we were right.”

  Kelly laughed softly. “Cat to cream, huh? We’re really going with the food analogies today.”

  “Hey, I can’t help it. I work in a restaurant. And I’m not surprised. In fact, Mimi and Burt invited Cassie to their place Sunday morning and afternoon while Pete and I were working. They gave her a tour of Old Town.”

  “Perfect.” Kelly took another deep drink. Nerve cells had fully awakened now, synapses snapping. “You know, it looks like Pete’s grandfather’s heart attack is turning into a good thing for Cassie. She’s come up here to Fort Connor and she’s finding all sorts of things to do and people to meet. I can’t help thinking that she might never have had those same opportunities living down in Denver with Ben. No disrespect intended, you understand.”

  Jennifer leaned against a café table. “No, I understand what you mean. And you’re probably right.”

  Julie walked up then, Kelly’s breakfast platter in her hand. “I didn’t want this to get cold sitting on the counter. Eduardo would be insulted,” she said, placing the platter in front of Kelly.

  “Oh, boy . . . biscuits and gravy,” Kelly said, sniffing the scrumptious flavors drifting from the plate to her nose. “Good thing I ran this morning. My arteries won’t like this.”

  “You’ll run it off,” Julie said with a dismissive wave of her hand as she headed to the grill.

  “Well, I’d best return to the rest of my customers. I’ll leave you to commune with the Fat Gods.”

  “Go ahead, rub it in,” Kelly retorted, sinking her fork into a thick piece of biscuit and swishing it through the thick gravy, then popping it in her mouth. Heaven. Yummy and fattening and altogether delicious. Why was everything delicious also fattening? She’d have to ponder that another time. Right now, the biscuits and gravy claimed her full attention.

  Glancing through the window, Kelly watched both Jennifer and Julie move back and forth, back and forth, between the grill and the garden, taking orders, carrying trays, serving every type of breakfast from the high-calorie treat Kelly was indulging in to fiber-filled bowls of granola and fresh fruit.

  Morning sun streaked across the golf course, highlighting the clusters of golfers making their way methodically around the course. Some lingered, talking, while others moved as if on a tight schedule. No doubt they were—fitting in a fast round or even a few holes in between customer or client or patient appointments.

  The thick screen of cottonwood trees that lined most of the driveway provided ample shade for the café garden as well as Kelly’s cottage. And the former garage was looking ever so much better now that Hal and Malcolm had remodeled it. There was even a new coat of adobe mixture applied over the outside walls, and the red-tile roof had some tiles repaired. She swirled the last of the biscuits through the last of the gravy while she watched Malcolm carrying what looked like a drop cloth from the truck into the storage building.

  “Hey, there, Kelly.” Burt’s voice came from behind her right as she swallowed.

  She turned to him and waved, then pointed to her mouth. Speech was still impossible with a mouth full of breakfast delight. She did manage “Umphhh,” as she pointed to the chair.

  Burt chuckled as he sat. “Caught you with your mouth full, huh? Well, I won’t tease you. I already had some of Pete’s delicious gravy this morning. Half a portion, so I’m feeling really virtuous.”

  Kelly swallowed, then chased it with a big sip of coffee. “I succumbed, too. Couldn’t help myself. I’m still adjusting to that longer drive from the housing development in Wellesley to here. I’m used to simply walking across the driveway.”

  “You’re tough. You can last.”

  She gestured toward the remodeled garage with her mug. “Hal Nelson and Malcolm have done a good job, Burt. It looks like they’re painting inside today.”

  Burt’s smile faded. “Yep, they’re finishing up. They should be done this week.” He stared off toward the building.

  Picking up on his swift change of mood, Kelly asked, “Something on your mind, Burt?”

  Burt looked back at her, and one side of his mouth curved up. “Yeah, I’m afraid there is. I heard from Dan early this morning. Apparently someone called into the department and said they had been playing golf that same evening of Rizzoli’s murder. The golfer said he remembers seeing a disheveled man wandering around the edge of the course that borders Lambspun and the driveway. Of course, Dan and the guys asked the man to come in and maybe he could take a look at some photos or maybe have an artist draw a description.”

  Kelly felt a cold spot appear in her gut, despite the warm breakfast. “Oh, brother. Do you think it was Malcolm?”

  Burt looked at her sadly. “It could be, Kelly. Dan said the golfer came and gave a description to the police artist, and she sketched a figure that could very well be Malcolm. I even went over to take a look, and it definitely resembles him. Even if from a distance.”

  Kelly made a face. “Damn. That would put Malcolm right here in the same vicinity where Rizzoli was killed. What time was it? Did the golfer remember?”

  “Yes, he recalls it was close to seven.”

  This time Kelly rolled her eyes. “Oh, man, it keeps looking worse. That’s right at the same window the medical examiner gave for time of death.”

  “I know. Definitely not good news for Malcolm.”

  “Do you think they’ll come and question him again?”

  Burt shrugged. “I don’t know if it would do any good, Kelly. Malcolm admits he was drunk at the time and can’t remember a thing. That’s what makes this witness’s testimony so damning. Malcolm can be shown to be at the place where Rizzoli was killed at the approximate time Rizzoli was killed. But Malcolm doesn’t remember a thing. So . . . as far as police are concerned, he’s the prime suspect right now.”

  “How about Barbara?”

  “I wish I could say Barbara is no longer being considered, but Dan confirmed that she’s still very much on the suspect list. And from the way he was talking, she’s just a notch below Malcolm.”

  “But there’s no proof Barbara was anywhere close to here that evening. She was in the canyon driving.” Kelly glanced out the window into the flowering bushes outside. “Or so she says.”

  “That’s right, Kelly. Barbara can’t prove she didn’t drive here that evening. She definitely had even more motive than Malcolm. Because she had two public confrontations with Rizzoli. She definitely demonstrated she had enough hatred of Rizzoli to want him dead. Plus, she was here in the shop the day Jennifer’s cell phone went missing.” He shook his head. “Hell, even Malcolm came into the shop to use the restroom.”

  “I figured the cops must have asked Malcolm that question. I remember seeing him leave the bathroom corridor one time myself. But he usually came in the back way through the café. I saw him enter and leave that way once when I was working in the café.”

  “So, you can see why both of them are front and center on police radar. Malcolm had a public confrontation with Rizzoli and got drunk that night so he doesn’t remember what he did. Meanwhile, a witness now stated that a man matching Malcolm’s description was seen in the vicinity at the time of Rizzoli’s death.” Burt sank back into his chair. “Malcolm also had access to the shop and could have taken the phone. Now, Barbara had two public confrontations with Rizzoli and has no explanation for her whereabouts the evening he was killed. And she, too, was in the shop the same time Jennifer’s phone disappeared. So, both of them are squarely in police crosshairs.”

  Kelly pondered what Burt said for a minute. “You know, there’s one thing about that Malcolm litany that doesn’t make sense. If Malcolm took the phone, that means he would be planning to kill
Rizzoli. If so, then why would he get drunk before doing it? Wouldn’t he want to be thinking clearly if he was going to commit such a crime?”

  Burt gave her a crooked smile. “Right as always, Sherlock. That’s exactly what Dan and I discussed. It wouldn’t make sense in the Malcolm-did-it-while-drunk scenario. But taking the phone would definitely make sense in the Barbara-did-it-for-revenge scenario.”

  Kelly stared back at him. “Either way, someone we care about would be guilty. Damn!” Her cell phone’s ring sounded then, reminding Kelly that client work was waiting.

  “Work calls, right?” Burt teased as he pushed back his chair. “Why don’t you work right here? That way you’ll be close to Eduardo’s grill if the biscuits and gravy urge comes over you again.”

  “Don’t tempt me, Burt,” Kelly said as she clicked on her phone.

  * * *

  Kelly rounded the corner from the central yarn room into the main room. Cassie stood at the end of the long library table, with several skeins of yarn piled on the table in front of her. “Hey, there, Cassie. What are you up to? Picking out a new yarn?”

  Cassie turned quickly and gave her a big smile. “Hi, Kelly. Mimi gave me another job. I’ve got to switch all the yarns in the middle bins in these shelves”—she gestured behind her—“and move them to the lower shelves. And all the yarns on the lower shelves have to go into storage in the basement.” She took in a breath. “And then I have to fill the upper shelves with the new yarns Mimi has in boxes over there.”

  Kelly dumped her briefcase at the other end of the library table. “Wow, so that’s how all those yarns get switched. I thought it was elves. Lambspun elves. But I could never catch them in the act.”

  Cassie laughed as she moved a pile of pale blue yarns across the table. Then she started removing a bin filled with light pink yarns and placing them all on the table beside the blue ones.

  Kelly watched Cassie move through her task. Clearly, she had established a routine already. “Boy, I’m glad you’re doing that. I’d probably drop all the yarns and get the pinks mixed up with the blues and mess it all up.”

 

‹ Prev