Knot Guilty

by Betty Hechtman

  Rhoda grabbed me when I got to the booth. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ve all been doing everything just like you asked when you called. I went up to supervise the rest of Adele’s class. Once they got past the drama, I helped them with Adele’s pattern and made sure they all had copies to take with. I think they actually liked the excitement.” She held up a list. “We’ve been giving out information about all the activities at the bookstore. These are the people interested in having crochet parties.” The list had ten people, and I gave her a thank-you hug.

  Sheila was trying to keep calm and teach two people how to crochet at once. “I want to make one of those,” one of the women said, touching the soft shawl Sheila had wrapped around her shoulders. This one was made in shades of lavender with blues mixed in.

  Adele was telling everyone how I’d come to her rescue and that was what best friends did. Somehow she hadn’t focused on what Detective Heather and Barry had said about her reprieve being temporary.

  The crowd in the aisle parted as Eric strode through. He had that kind of effect. He was well over six feet with a barrel chest and super-erect posture. And this time he was in his motor cop uniform, though he’d taken the helmet off.

  “Cutchykins, is it true? My mother said you were arrested.” He stopped just outside the booth and Adele came out to meet him.

  “It was all a mistake,” Adele said and then waved her arm toward me. “Ask Pink about it. I was too dazed to understand what was going on.”

  Eric zeroed in on me. “She didn’t kill that woman, did she? I know Adele is a very passionate woman.” He left it hanging and looked to me hoping for reassurance. All I could do was tell him the truth about the hook and what Barry and Heather had agreed to.

  “I can’t believe that I’m saying this, since they are my cop brethren and sisteren, but you have to do something. I know how they operate. If they think she’s the one, they won’t look for anyone else.”

  Was there even such a word as sisteren? “I already have a whole list of suspects. That woman wasn’t very popular,” I said. His face immediately brightened, and he took my hands and squeezed them. “Adele always says you’re her something or other sister. Thank you.”

  Adele had certainly blown a mere brunch out of proportion, but then that was Adele. One Sunday morning I had invited her over for French toast, and since then she’d proclaimed us French toast sisters. And continually told everybody about it.

  There were still a few hours left while the marketplace was open, and I was determined to stay in the booth. Things calmed down immeasurably when Eduardo left. He promised to come back for the banquet and the evening program.

  I was manning the front table when Ruby Cline came by. “There was so much commotion going on in this booth compared to that one.” She pointed across the aisle to K.D.’s yarn store. They still had a big supply of yarn, and I noticed that Audrey Stewart was sitting inside knitting. There were a couple of women around her, but nothing like the crowd Eduardo had drawn. Mason was sitting on a chair next to her. He looked bored until our eyes met. I sent him a warm smile before turning my attention back to Ruby Cline. I had wanted to talk to her, and now she was here. This was my chance.

  I’d learned from The Average Joe’s Guide to Criminal Investigation that it was a good idea to start by asking things you already knew the answers to. Then right away you’d get a pretty good idea if somebody was being truthful.

  “It’s so sad about K.D.,” I began. “I understand you knew her.” I left it at that to see what she would say.

  Ruby was about the same age as K.D., which put her in her early sixties, though to look at her, you’d never guess. Maybe it was true that the sixties had become the new forties. It wasn’t so much her appearance as the way she was connected, relevant, in the middle of what was happening now. She was dressed in stylish black slacks with an amethyst-colored sweater over a white shirt with the cuffs, collar and tails showing. Her hair was reddish, blondish, brownish, no doubt a concoction of her hairdresser. The texture of her hair gave away that it was gray underneath the color, but the wavy style flattered her face. She wore diamond studs in her ears and a gold bangle on her wrist. I looked at her hands and saw only one ring. It was a white cameo set in a black background and worn on her middle finger.

  Ruby took her time answering, pretending to be examining the crossed hooks that were blinking up at her. “What a fun idea,” she said. I nodded and waited for her answer about K.D. “I’m sorry, you asked me something about K.D.?” She seemed puzzled, as if it was something so trivial she’d forgotten the question.

  “I said I thought you two knew each other.” Apparently Ruby had used the time to come up with an answer, because then she spoke readily.

  “Of course, we knew each other. I own a yarn company and she has, I mean had, magazines about yarn and a store that sold our brand.” She glanced around the area. “Have you heard if they have anyone under suspicion?”

  “The police don’t have anyone in custody,” I said. “It was pretty crazy around here Thursday afternoon. Did you get a chance to have a moment alone with K.D.?”

  Ruby flinched, though she tried to cover it up. “My grandson says that you’re some kind of amateur sleuth. I assure you I had nothing to do with K.D.’s death.”

  I didn’t say anything, but her comment didn’t really mean a lot. Most killers don’t go around admitting that they killed someone. And she had clearly lied by omission. She hadn’t denied knowing K.D., but she certainly hadn’t let on how well or for how long she’d known her, or that her old boyfriend had ended up as K.D.’s husband. She quickly changed the subject after that and wanted to know about the yarn from her company that we’d sold and if the thread had worked out.

  “You can see for yourself.” I stood aside and let her gaze back into the booth at the picked-over bins and hanging displays.

  “It looks like you had a fire sale in here.” She looked around for a moment longer, as if she were thinking about saying something, but she must have decided not to because she wished me luck and left.

  “What was that about?” Dinah asked, joining me at the entrance to the booth.

  “I think Ruby Cline is worried about what I know. She asked about the thread. Paxton must have caved and told her about our trip up there. Maybe he mentioned that I’d seen the photos.”

  “I bet he didn’t mention his wild driving,” Dinah said, reining in her long red scarf.

  I gave Dinah a quick recap of my afternoon, though thanks to Adele’s histrionics, she knew most of it. “I don’t know about you, but I need a coffee,” I said. Dinah agreed, and we left Rhoda in charge while Adele recuperated from all the excitement.

  The crowd was thinning out as the afternoon faded. We caught a glimpse outside through the windows in the corridor as someone exited the marketplace. The sky was turning into twilight.

  “Thank heavens the snack bar has espresso drinks,” I said, ordering a red eye. Dinah skipped her usual café au lait and went for the brew of the day. Then we gathered our drinks and headed for one of the tables in the area.

  We’d no sooner sat down when CeeCee came by wrapped in the scent of roses and jasmine and stopped at our table.

  “How could we have been in the same place all weekend and barely seen each other?” She looked at our drinks longingly. “I could use one of those and maybe a little something sweet to go with it.” The fact that CeeCee was always concerned about her weight because she insisted the camera really did put on at least ten pounds didn’t stop her from having a legendary sweet tooth. She told us to save her a chair and went on to the snack bar.

  “It’s been a long day,” Dinah said, feeling the spikes in her short salt-and-pepper hair. “Even my hair is starting to droop. Remind me to re-gell it before the night’s events.”

  I took a long drag on my drink, longing for the jolt of caffeine to recharge me. CeeCee
rejoined us, carrying a coffee drink and a basket full of tiny, freshly made donuts. “I brought enough to share. In fact, do me a favor and dig in so I don’t eat them all.” She glanced toward the front. “I need a break. When I signed on for this weekend I had no idea how much work hanging out here, teaching that class and judging the entries in the crochet competition would be. And I certainly didn’t expect Audrey Stewart to be here all weekend trying to be the celebrity of the place.” CeeCee’s eyes went skyward. “It’s been quite a while since she was in a hit movie. If there hadn’t been all that fuss when she was accused of shoplifting the knitting needles, no one would even realize she was once such a big celebrity.” The round tables near us had attracted a lot of other shoppers taking a break. Most of them were working with yarn as they talked. CeeCee had a way of drawing attention to herself. I could never put my finger on it, but she always seemed to own the room. A number of the people looked our way, and I could see by their expressions that they recognized her. A moment later, one of them was standing next to our table.

  “I’d be glad to sign an autograph and take a picture,” CeeCee said brightly. She was definitely a trouper who rose to the occasion. All traces of the fatigue she’d just mentioned had vanished and she’d put on a happy smile. But everything changed when CeeCee saw who joined us as the photo was snapped, and her smile faded into a look of concern.

  I recognized Julie by the butterfly on her hand. She was the woman I’d seen twice embarrassed by K.D. She was biting her lip and seemed nervous addressing CeeCee. “I was just wondering if the winners have been chosen in the competition.”

  “Dear, my lips are sealed on that for the moment. You’ll find out tomorrow when everybody else does.”

  Julie didn’t seem to want to let it go and did a final pitch for herself, reminding CeeCee that her jacket had really been meant for the knitting competition. CeeCee just smiled and nodded, and I realized it was my chance to ask Julie about K.D.

  CeeCee gave me a dirty look when I invited Julie to join us. “It must be strange for you without K.D. here. You knew her pretty well didn’t you?”

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Julie began. “She had such a presence.” Julie became animated. “I’ve been part of the elite group at the yarn studio for a long time. Even though Thea Scott ran the store, K.D. usually made an appearance when our group was there.”

  I noticed that she talked as if she were a permanent part of the group and as if the other day hadn’t happened. I wondered how to broach the subject of her basically being asked to leave. There was no subtle way, but I suddenly had an idea how to find out some other information.

  “I know you were upset when K.D. refused to accept your entry in the knitting competition. Did you try to get her to reconsider?”

  Julie slumped in her seat. “You have to understand. There have been some changes in my life lately and I needed to find some work.”

  I didn’t let on that Thea Scott had already told me about Julie’s young children and about her husband losing his job.

  “I got a position teaching knitting, and I sort of mentioned that I’d won a top prize for the last five years running.” She turned to me. “I never got a credential as a master knitter, so being a competition winner gave me credibility. But when I wasn’t even accepted in the knitting category this year—” She let it trail off. “Yes, I did try to talk to her.”

  “Then you went up to her suite?” I said.

  Julie looked panicked. “Shush,” she said, looking around. “Okay, I did go up there. But K.D. wouldn’t even listen. I should have known. She is, or was, a hard woman. Look how she treats her own daughter.”

  “I thought Lacey handled her social media for her,” I said. I noticed that CeeCee had edged away when Julie wasn’t looking, but Dinah was all ears.

  “We talked about it in the knitting circle. Lacey is in her thirties and riding in her mother’s shadow. The social media thing is just like a bone K.D. threw her. I think Lacey thought she should have had the position Delvin Whittingham has. And as much as K.D. might have embarrassed me, it’s nothing compared to what she did to Audrey Stewart. Thea wanted to let her pay for those needles and brush it under the rug. What’s the difference if it was really a mistake or she took the needles?”

  I was pretty sure that Julie wasn’t going to go back to discussing her trip to K.D.’s suite since she looked horrified after she’d admitted that she had gone there. Dinah came to the rescue.

  “I’m just curious,” my friend said in a noninterrogating sort of tone, “when you were in K.D.’s suite, had the champagne been delivered?”

  Julie looked mystified. Then she got it. “No, there was no champagne there.”

  “What about a crochet hook?” I said, still trying to pin down the time Adele’s hook had arrived. Julie shook her head. “No champagne and no hook.” She suddenly realized that CeeCee had left the table and any chance to plead her case was gone. She got up rather abruptly and left.

  “And the plot thickens,” Dinah said. “K.D. certainly didn’t have a fan club.”

  “Sort of the opposite. She had a long list of people who weren’t fans. And it keeps getting longer. You heard Julie. It doesn’t even sound like there was a bond with her daughter. And she’d certainly backed Audrey Stewart into a corner. Who knows how far Audrey would go to stay out of jail. Mason hasn’t said anything about it.” I reminded Dinah of his attorney-client privilege. “But even with his skills, the way things are now I wonder if he would have been able to keep her out of jail. Not that she seems to have trusted him to take care of things.” Dinah nodded. She knew that Audrey had shown up without Mason the morning after K.D. had died and actually worked everything out herself even though Mason would be the one to make sure that the yarn shop followed through and dropped the charges.

  “I just don’t get how Barry can still be so focused on it being Adele,” I said. “We better get back.” I got up and took our cups to the trash and we started to walk back. When we got to the front of the aisle and reached Rain’s booth, I saw the long blue vest on the dress form and remembered the shawl I wanted to show Dinah. Her birthday might really be a long way off, but I was going to get it for her if she really liked it.

  Rain was all smiles and a long way from how she’d seemed when we’d first met. “Business has been great,” she said. “You’re lucky I still have that shawl you admired in the color you wanted.” She went to get the light gray shawl for Dinah. “And there’s still tomorrow, though it’s usually pretty quiet.” Dinah tried on the shawl and modeled it for me. It seemed perfect for her.

  “We better get it before it’s gone.” I looked at the thin group of garments on the racks now. Dinah put up a fight when I took out my credit card and said it was her birthday present—a very early birthday present. Rain had handed back my card and I was putting it away when the crowd along the front of the room thinned and I saw Barry come in and go in the direction of our booth.

  Dinah saw him, too. “Maybe he rethought his deal.”

  “Or maybe he listened to me and he’s still investigating,” I said. Dinah knew I wanted to find out what was going on and urged me to go ahead, promising that she’d go back to the booth.

  When I caught up with Barry, he had stopped against the wall at the front of the room. His suit and tie stood out. Even Mason had gone casual and was now wearing jeans and a sports jacket.

  I skipped a greeting and got right down to business. “What are you doing here?”

  His eyebrows shot up and his mouth had a hint of a smile. “That’s quite a welcome.” Typical Barry. He didn’t answer my question, so I did it for him.

  “You listened to me, didn’t you, and you’re still investigating.”

  Barry nodded. “Right, that’s why I’m here.” I didn’t expect him to agree so readily. It felt fake and I knew it wasn’t the truth, particularly when I saw how his gaze wa
s locked on our booth. Then I began to understand what was going on.

  “It’s Adele,” I said. “You’re not going back on our deal, are you?”

  He shook his head with a look of consternation. “I don’t know why I ever agreed to that, but no, I’m not going back on it. I went out on a limb for you, er, Adele, and I don’t want to look like an idiot if she suddenly takes off for Brazil.”

  “You’re kidding, right? It’s Adele. You can’t really think she’s guilty or taking off for parts unknown.”

  Barry looked directly at me. “My job is to look at the facts. Her hook was found at the murder scene. She was heard making threats, and she has no witnesses who can confirm where she was during the time the victim was killed. And now that we’ve tipped our hand, who knows what she’ll do.”

  I blew out my breath, prepared to do battle with his facts. “How exactly have you figured out when K.D. was killed?”

  “You know that I don’t have to discuss this with you,” he said. But he took out his notebook and flipped through the pages.

  “We know she was alive when the champagne was delivered and for at least an hour after that, because according to Delvin Whittingham, she sent him some texts.” I opened my mouth and he continued. “And yes, we checked his phone and hers. It was a little harder with hers because it was actually in the water with her. The time of death was some time after that but before you found her.” He looked intently at me.

  “Hmm,” Barry said. “You didn’t have a problem with Ms. Kirby, did you?” The little lift of his eyebrows made it clear he was joking.

  “Have you talked to Ruby Cline?” I said.

  He looked down the front aisle toward the imposing Cline Yarn International booth and nodded. “We talked to all of the vendors. There was nothing to imply that Ms. Cline was involved.”