Skein of the Crime

by Maggie Sefton

  Kelly stared at Patty, totally surprised by the remark. “What was that again?”

  “That’s pretty much what I said, Kelly. So I asked Francesca if she actually saw Barbara pick up Holly. And she said she did. She recognized Barbara from her doctor’s office. Apparently Barbara works for the same doctor Francesca goes to.” Patty shook her head. “I thought she was mistaken, but Francesca said she even recognized Barbara’s car. It’s an old black Honda with a Broncos sticker on the back fender.”

  Kelly tried to picture capable, protective Barbara playing taxi service for drunken and maybe drugged-out Holly. Had Tommy asked her to be on chauffeur duty since he couldn’t? What did she do with Holly? Did Barbara take Holly back to her apartment and drive away? The vagrant, Malcolm, said he saw a man with Holly that night on the river trail. Did Holly call her Greeley boyfriend, Eddie, to pick her up at her apartment? Is that how she wound up on the trail?

  “Barbara’s never said anything about picking up Holly that night.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so strange.” Patty lowered her voice. “I mean, do you think Tommy asked his mom to pick up Holly and take her home? Maybe Holly wandered off again. I mean, she said she was drunk already. Maybe Barbara started arguing with Holly, and Holly left.”

  “Or wandered off when Barbara wasn’t looking.” Kelly picked up the imaginary thread. “Maybe Barbara felt guilty about letting Holly slip away. Holly must have called the guy from Greeley to pick her up. Remember, that guy sleeping beneath the trees saw a man with Holly that night.”

  Patty’s eyes lit up. “You’re right! That’s gotta be what happened, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know, but Holly wound up on the trail later on with a guy, so she must have called him. Either she was at her own apartment or slipped away from Barbara.”

  “No wonder Barbara never admitted she picked up Holly that night.”

  “Or maybe she did,” Kelly countered. “And maybe Tommy didn’t want his mom to be questioned by the police.”

  Patty tapped her half-polished fingernail on the table. “My friend Francesca is pretty solid. So I believe her. Are you going to ask Barbara about it?”

  “I’ll mention it to Burt first and see what he says. He and Mimi have known Barbara for years. I’ll let him talk to her. Someone should ask her about that night.”

  “Well, I’m not about to do it. Barbara can be pretty intimidating. If she likes you, she’s all nice and smiley. If she doesn’t, well, she can be pretty cold.” Patty grabbed her backpack and rose from the chair. “Listen, I’ve got to get to my steakhouse job. Let me know what you learn, okay?”

  “Will do, Patty. See you later.”

  Kelly watched Patty walk away, then stared out into the café again, pondering the various scenarios she and Patty had invented.

  Had Barbara taken Holly to her house or to Holly’s apartment? Had Barbara told Tommy she helped Holly that night? Or, did she keep quiet, afraid of being blamed by her son for Holly’s death?

  Kelly picked up her half-finished hat again. Meanwhile, puzzling questions buzzed inside Kelly’s brain like pesky mosquitoes in summer. Where did Barbara take Holly? If she took her to her house, why didn’t she keep an eye on Holly? Did they have an argument? Holly told Francesca she was already drunk. Did Barbara simply dump Holly at her apartment to sleep it off?

  Slip, wrap, slide. Kelly’s stitches formed rhythmically on the needle. One row, then another. Holly’s boyfriend Eddie had to be the one who picked up Holly and gave her the pills. Did he panic when he saw Holly’s reaction to the narcotics? Is that why he took her to the river trail? Maybe he simply dumped Holly there to sleep it off. Only Holly didn’t wake up.

  Kelly checked the width of the hat. She needed to knit at least another two inches or more. It was different to knit something you intended to felt. You had to intentionally make the item bigger than needed. She’d lucked out with Steve’s hat. It had only been a little bit too large, so it didn’t need to shrink much. But Kelly wanted to make this hat bigger and see how it felted.

  Starting another row, Kelly noticed one of the buzzing insect thoughts was more persistent than the others. So she kept knitting, knowing it would eventually buzz close enough for her to capture.

  Something about the pills. What was it? Eddie must have given Holly the pills. If Holly had gotten the pills from someone at the party, then she would be showing signs of an overdose when Barbara picked her up. And Barbara would have definitely known something was wrong. Barbara was a nurse, after all. She would have taken Holly to the hospital. So, it had to be Eddie. And he dumped Holly on the trail when he saw her reaction.

  Slip, wrap, slide. Kelly started another row. Something was missing. What was it? The annoying thought buzzed closer. What was it about that scenario that didn’t fit? She knitted another row, then another. Finally the little thought buzzed close enough.

  The pills. The detective said it would take at least eight or ten of those narcotic pain pills to cause death in someone who wasn’t used to them. The respiratory system would keep slowing down until it eventually stopped, and the person died. Why would Eddie give Holly that many pills? Surely he didn’t want her to overdose and die. Was he so drugged out himself he simply dumped a bunch of pills in her hand?

  That didn’t make sense to Kelly. Everything she’d heard about Eddie made him sound like he was into drugs for the money he could make selling, not the high.

  Kelly knitted another row, then checked the width. Getting closer. She slid a finished stitch off the left needle onto the right one. And then another, letting the peacefulness settle over her. Ideas always came to her when she “knit on it.”

  Something was bothering her about the elaborate scenario she’d just created in her imagination. It didn’t make sense that Eddie would deliberately or accidentally give Holly too many pills. But Eddie had to be the one who provided the pills, didn’t he? After all, if Holly had gotten them from the party, Barbara would have noticed her reaction.

  Slip, wrap, slide. Slip, wrap, slide. Slip the right needle into the stitch on the left needle, wrap the yarn around the needle, then slide the stitch from the left to the right needle. Slip, wrap, slide. Over and over as one row after another formed. Again and again. Then, from the back of Kelly’s mind another little thought buzzed. This one hovered right in front of her eyes.

  Maybe it was Barbara, not Eddie. Maybe Barbara gave Holly those pills. She would know how many to give so that Holly wouldn’t wake up. Barbara’s a nurse, after all.

  Kelly stopped knitting and stared at her yarn. That last thought brought a chill with it. Surely her imagination must be working on overdrive. Barbara wouldn’t kill Holly. She’d watched Holly grow up. Had provided a second home for Holly. She had no reason.

  Yes, she did, another chilly thought insisted. The best reason a mother could have. She needed to protect Tommy. Holly was a threat to Tommy and his future. She was manipulative and self-destructive. Barbara said so herself. Tommy would never become a doctor if Holly stayed in his life.

  Kelly let that sink in. Barbara had insinuated that, hadn’t she? They all heard her pleas to Tommy not to “throw his life away,” grieving over Holly. Was that possible? Was Barbara so afraid of Holly’s hold on Tommy that she’d commit murder to set Tommy free?

  That thought was colder than all the rest. Kelly made herself consider it. She couldn’t assume anything. What if Barbara snapped? Kelly had wondered earlier if Tommy snapped. Constant pressure and manipulation from Holly proved too much. Well . . . the same thing could have happened to Barbara. Holly knew Tommy was studying in Denver, and yet she still had the nerve to call up and ask for a ride. Maybe that was the last straw for Barbara. Hadn’t she said Holly was on a self-destructive path and would come to a bad end eventually? Maybe Barbara decided to have “eventually” come that Friday night.

  Kelly picked up her knitting where she’d left off. Was that possible? Could Barbara cold-bloodedly give her son’s girlf
riend an overdose? She’d certainly know how much to give Holly. Barbara was a nurse . . . and . . .

  Another thought buzzed forward. Barbara had a back problem. The girl who showed up at the felting class yesterday was Barbara’s physical therapist. She asked how Barbara’s back was doing. Barbara had gone to the orthopedic health center for treatment and therapy. No doubt Barbara’s doctor prescribed medicine. Barbara said she’d recovered “thanks to Dr. Hensley” and PT exercises.

  Kelly knitted another row. The thoughts buzzed faster as she began to picture Barbara picking up Holly from the party and giving her the pills. No doubt, Holly would take whatever pills Barbara told her to. After all, Barbara was a nurse. Did Barbara drive her around for a while until Holly got sleepy? Then, she took her out on the river trail and left Holly to fall asleep and die.

  Another thought buzzed in front of Kelly’s eyes. Vagrant Malcolm said he saw a “man” with Holly that night. A man wearing a dark hooded jacket. Could that have been Barbara? She’s certainly a tall, big-boned woman. She could definitely be mistaken for a man, especially in the dark.

  Another row, then another formed on Kelly’s needles as the disturbing scenario unfolded inside her head. Holly would willingly trust Barbara. And by the time Barbara dumped Holly on the trail, Holly was probably so disoriented she didn’t even know what was happening. Hadn’t Malcolm said the young girl stood up and tried to walk then fell down and didn’t move again?

  Kelly tried to rein in her chaotic thoughts. They seemed to take on a “scripting” life of their own. Buzzing and buzzing. She glanced at her watch, then grabbed her cell phone and punched in Lisa’s number. Client accounts were calling her. She had to push these racing thoughts aside so she could return to her cottage and client accounts. There was softball practice tonight, thankfully. No inner scenarios allowed on the field.

  Lisa picked up after the third ring. “Hey, Kelly, what’s up? Don’t forget practice tonight.”

  “Already on my day planner. I have a quick question. If someone’s been in a car accident and had lots of back problems, what sort of prescription medicines would doctors use?”

  “Are you asking for someone, Kelly?”

  “No, simply my own information. Ever since I had that meeting with the detective, I’ve been curious about certain drugs.”

  “Well, most of the docs over here prescribe one of the big three. Vicodin, Percocet, and, of course, OxyContin.”

  “Yeah, the detective said those are the same three narcotic painkillers that show up on the drug party scene. People get them illegally then sell them. Now I know why they’re so common. That’s what doctors are prescribing all the time.”

  “You got it. And some docs are more lenient than others about refilling prescriptions,” Lisa said.

  “No wonder so many wind up on the street.”

  “Hey, gotta get back to work. See you tonight.” Her phone clicked off.

  Kelly tossed her phone into her bag along with the nearly finished knitted hat. Lisa wasn’t the only one who had to return to work.

  Sixteen

  Kelly stood on her back patio and watched Carl sniff around the yard while she finished up her first mug of morning coffee. Several client e-mails had kept her busy with account work and—more important—kept her mind from wandering off to conjure. She’d left a message on Burt’s cell phone earlier this morning but hadn’t heard from him yet. She needed to explain these suspicions to Burt and see what he said. Either she was off base, or she was on to something. Burt had good instincts.

  Her cell phone jangled as it lay on the desk, and Kelly bolted through the open glass door to grab it before it went to voice mail. Burt’s name and number flashed on the screen.

  “Hey, Kelly, sorry I couldn’t call before. I’ve been at a community meeting. What’s up?”

  “I wanted to run some things past you, Burt. You’re my barometer, you know. Do you have a few moments to talk?”

  “Well, I’m about to pull into a shopping center, so let me park, then I’ll give you my full attention.”

  Kelly poured more coffee into her mug then sat in her leather desk chair. Meanwhile, sounds of driving came over the phone. Then Burt returned. “All parked?” she asked.

  “All settled. So shoot. What’s on your mind?”

  “Okay . . . this may sound a little crazy at first, but just hear me out, Burt, before you say anything. Patty came over yesterday and told me something that bothered both of us. A friend of hers who was at the party said she talked to Holly that night when she was standing outside. Holly told her she was waiting for Tommy’s mother to pick her up and—”

  “What was that?”

  “That’s what I said.” Kelly took another deep breath. “This girl Francesca says she saw Barbara pick up Holly that night. She recognized Barbara from her doctor’s office, and she recognized the car. A black Honda sedan with a Broncos sticker on the back.” She paused for his reaction.

  Burt didn’t say anything at first. Then he asked in a quiet voice, “Is this girl positive it was Barbara?”

  “Patty said she asked Francesca the same thing. And Francesca swears it was Barbara. She grew up with Tommy and Patty and Holly, so she recognized Barbara when she saw her.”

  “I don’t understand why Barbara didn’t say anything about picking up Holly,” Burt said in his quiet voice. Kelly recognized his thoughtful tone. Burt was having some of the same questions arise that she did.

  “Neither do I, Burt. But Patty and I suspect that Barbara probably dropped Holly off at her apartment. Then Holly must have called that boyfriend Eddie she’d been seeing. Barbara probably felt guilty she didn’t keep track of Holly that night. Francesca said Holly was already drunk. That’s why Barbara didn’t say anything. She didn’t want Tommy to know she was involved.”

  “That might explain it. Since Holly was seen with a guy on the trail, it had to be that Eddie.”

  “That’s what I figured, too. Then after Patty left, I started thinking about it, and something about that picture didn’t make sense, Burt.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like why would Eddie give Holly that many pills? Investigator Frobischer said it would take about eight to ten pills to be a fatal overdose in someone who wasn’t used to them. Eddie wouldn’t deliberately give Holly an overdose. He sold pills. She was a customer. Plus, she was his girlfriend. Why would he do that?”

  Burt paused. “Yeah, I see what you mean, Kelly. It doesn’t make sense. Unless he was so high he wasn’t paying attention.”

  “That didn’t make sense either, Burt. And it kept bothering me, until something else popped up. Maybe someone else gave Holly a deliberate overdose of pain pills. Someone who knew how many pills were fatal.”

  “Who would do that?” Burt’s tone was skeptical.

  Kelly paused. “Barbara.”

  “What! That’s crazy, Kelly!”

  “Yeah, I know, but hear me out. We all knew how much Barbara resented Holly’s selfish manipulation of Tommy. And Barbara made no secret of her feelings about Holly’s behavior. I remember her saying that Holly was ‘on a self-destructive path’ that would lead to a bad end.”

  “That was simply a mother’s concern, Kelly. You can’t be seriously thinking Barbara would kill Holly. I mean . . . Holly was screwed up and self-destructive, but that’s not a reason to kill someone.”

  “Maybe it was for an overly protective mother like Barbara,” Kelly suggested. “Maybe she snapped. Holly knew Tommy was studying in Denver, yet she was calling him to drop everything and drive back to Fort Connor and take care of her. As usual. Maybe that was the last straw for Barbara.”

  Burt didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I still don’t buy it, Kelly. I’ve known Barbara for years. She’s a big, bossy gal who likes to tell people what to do, but she’s not cruel. And leaving Holly to die along the trail was cruel.”

  “I agree, Burt. But I don’t know Barbara as well as you do. Therefore I’m not influen
ced by past experiences with her. I simply look at her as she is now—”

  “Wait a minute, Kelly. You’ve forgotten something important. That old vagrant along the trail saw a man with Holly that night. How do you explain that, Sherlock?”

  Kelly couldn’t help smiling. “As you pointed out earlier, Barbara’s a big woman. Put her in a dark jacket with the hood up, and it would be easy to mistake her for a man, especially at night.”

  Burt didn’t reply at first, then grumbled, “Okay, you’re right on that point. But I still think you’re mistaken about Barbara.”

  “Hey, don’t get me wrong, Burt. I’m not trying to make Barbara guilty. I’m simply not ruling out any possibility and trying not to make assumptions. As I’ve said before, people are often not what they seem. And anyone is capable of murder if they have enough reason. You know that, Burt.”

  Burt sighed out loud. “Yeah, I know, Kelly. I know. So, what do you plan to do?”

  “I think you and I should talk with Barbara. Just a friendly chat. Tell her what we learned and see how she responds. That will tell us a lot, watching her reaction. She probably doesn’t think anyone knows she picked up Holly.”

  “Okay, I’ll give her a call and see if she can swing by the shop this morning. I remember she has today off so she was planning to come in and choose some fibers for another class project. We can go into the back of the café and talk.”

  “Thanks, Burt. That would sound a lot more natural with your calling. By the way, I’m curious. Why didn’t you quiz me on how Barbara got the narcotic pain pills? You questioned me on everything else.”

  “Because I already know. Barbara was taking OxyContin for her back injury years ago. She told Mimi and me that she didn’t like to take the pills because they were addictive. So she never used all the pills.”

  “Want some coffee, Barbara?” Kelly asked as Julie poured a dark stream into her mug. The café was emptier than normal today, and no one was sitting in the back alcove.