Dyeing Up Loose Ends

by Maggie Sefton

  “And I remember old Malcolm confronting Rizzoli, too. Accusing him of cheating people,” Kelly said. “Rizzoli pushed him away so hard, poor old Malcolm fell down, and Rizzoli called him a piece of trash.” She frowned. “Boy, I’d forgotten what a rotten guy that Rizzoli was.”

  “He sure sounds like it,” Cassie said. “So I’ll bet Rizzoli was the one who was murdered. Am I right?”

  “Right you are, Cassie,” Megan said, then took a sip from the take-out coffee she’d brought with her. “And you’ll never guess how he was killed.”

  “Let’s see . . .” Cassie said. “We’ve had several murders by gunshots to the head. Was that it?”

  “Nope,” Megan answered. “Kelly, why don’t you pick it up so I can drink my coffee?”

  “Sure thing,” Kelly said. “No gunshots and no poisoned coffees, this time. Think sharp objects.”

  Cassie sat up straight. “Was he stabbed?”

  “Almost,” Kelly said. “He was found dead in his car the next morning as it was parked around the front side of Lambspun. His throat had been cut.”

  Cassie wrinkled her nose. “Yucky. There must have been a whole lot of blood all over the car.”

  “Apparently, there was,” Jennifer said. “And no one knew who did it. But the day before, my phone went missing. I was waitressing in the café and had left it sitting on the library table in the knitting room. I remember going back to get it, and it wasn’t on the table. I was still in the midst of working brunch and lunch, so I couldn’t take time to look for it. Then later that day, my phone suddenly appeared on the table again. I figured someone else probably picked it up by mistake and then returned it. So I didn’t think anything else about it. But the next day, after Rizzoli turned up dead, I noticed that there was an extra text message there from my phone to Rizzoli’s, telling him to meet me in the Lambspun parking lot later the night of his murder.”

  “Ooooooo, that’s spooky.” Cassie’s eyes went wide. “That had to be the killer.”

  “That’s what we figured, so we showed it to Burt, who naturally told police,” Kelly added.

  “Okay, so who killed Rizzoli?” Cassie probed. “Was it Barbara? Was it Malcolm?”

  “No, neither one of them did it,” Kelly continued. “Believe it or not, it was Madge, Barbara’s mother who kept bringing fleeces to the new shop. She knew where Hal Nelson kept his tools, so she had taken a sharp carpenter’s knife and walked up to Rizzoli’s car that night and slit his throat before he knew what happened. I still remember her calmly telling Burt and me all the details as she sat there. She said Rizzoli was an evil man who had ruined many people’s lives, and he deserved to die. Burt and I were stunned.”

  “Wow,” Cassie said. “It’s hard to imagine an older lady like Madge killing someone like that.”

  “I always figured Madge did it to avenge her husband’s suicide,” Jennifer said.

  Cassie glanced into the main room. “Wasn’t there a murder that happened right in the middle of the awful wildfire season that came through Fort Connor and Larimer County a few years ago? I think I remember some of that.”

  “You’re absolutely right, Cassie,” Kelly said. “Good memory.

  “Back in the summer of 2012, we had those wildfires that showed up all around Colorado. I believe they first started with lightning strikes near Bellevue Canyon. Then the winds came and that wildfire started spreading fast and climbing up one side of the canyon. I remember all of us showed up at Jayleen’s ranch right after the wildfire started and brought every horse trailer we could find. We wanted to help Jayleen load up and transport her alpaca out of Bellevue Canyon to save them. You can rebuild ranch buildings if they burn down, but it’s harder to replace great breeding stock.”

  “I can still see those wildfires burning on the other side of the Foothills,” Rosa said, staring off into the bookshelves across the room. “The smoke billowing up, climbing into the sky. Looking across the old university buildings on that far western edge of campus, seeing the sky turn dark red as the wildfires spread. All of us in Fort Connor would drive out at all hours during the day or night to stare at the wildfires behind the Foothills, wondering if they were going to cross over into Landporte.”

  “Wouldn’t the fires cross into Fort Connor first?” Cassie asked.

  “We have that beautiful long Horsetooth Reservoir lying between Fort Connor and the Foothills, thank goodness,” Kelly said. “No wildfire can cross all that water.”

  “Goodness me,” Rosa said. “I can still remember the huge shelter that the Red Cross opened up in Landporte. Firefighters from all over Colorado and some other states were sleeping on cots and eating at the huge food kitchens the Salvation Army set up here and in Loveland. We even had some of the hotshots assigned here, too.”

  “Wow,” Cassie said, clearly impressed. “Those guys only show up for the scariest and biggest wildfires.”

  “That’s what we had,” Megan said. “These Northern Colorado wildfires made the national news.”

  “You know, I remember you folks talking about Jayleen’s ranch in the canyon,” Rosa said. “And rescuing the alpaca. It sounded like you got the animals out just in time.”

  “By the skin of our teeth, as Jayleen would say,” Megan related. “Marty and I brought a horse trailer, and so did Lisa and Greg, and everyone else Jayleen knew. I still remember taking out all the important papers and records from Jayleen’s ranch house and packing them up in our cars, while Kelly and Steve and others were loading up alpaca.”

  “Where’d you take them, again?” Cassie asked. “Wasn’t it to some other rancher’s place in Poudre Canyon?”

  “Right again,” Kelly said. “Jayleen’s friend, Andrea Holt, had an alpaca ranch in Poudre Canyon. So all the animals were safely transported there. Unfortunately, there turned out to be a major domestic situation going on between two divorced couples. Boy, was that messy, not to mention unpleasant.”

  “Were they arguing a lot or something?” Cassie asked.

  “Ohhhhh yes, and fighting, actually. Two of the women pushed each other, and the two guys were getting ready to get into it. Like two Rocky Mountain rams, ready to lock horns.”

  Kelly took a long drink of her coffee. “What made it really upsetting was one of Lambspun’s former employees, Connie, was right in the middle of it, because she and her husband were finally divorcing after fighting for many years, and it turned out that he had moved in with Jayleen’s alpaca rancher friend in the Poudre Canyon, Andrea Holt.”

  “Boy, that sounds like it was really complicated,” Cassie observed.

  “That’s an understatement,” Rosa added.

  “So, was there actually a murder discovered in the midst of all those wildfires?” Cassie probed.

  “Yes, there was,” Jennifer said. “It turned out that Andrea Holt didn’t accidentally fall down those steep stairs at her house in the canyon. She was pushed.”

  “Uh-oh. Was it her ex-husband?” Cassie asked. “What was his name?”

  “Dennis Holt. He was also the shaggy mountain man that Jennifer and I first met a few years earlier,” Kelly said. “It turned out that Dennis had never really gotten over his wife Andrea divorcing him. Jayleen told us that Dennis had been an alcoholic while he was married to Andrea until the divorce. That’s when Jayleen took Dennis to Alcoholics Anonymous to change his life and, thank goodness, Dennis sobered up and never drank again. And he changed his life for the good.”

  “AA rides to the rescue again,” Cassie said with a grin. “Jayleen always has great rescue stories.”

  “She sure does,” Kelly agreed. “And Dennis was one of them. But Andrea’s death really shook him, Jayleen said, and Dennis was about to retreat into his former hermit life until Jayleen basically grabbed him and told him to ‘shape up.’”

  “That sounds like Jayleen.”

  “Andrea’s ranch an
d alpaca needed to be taken care of, fed, watered. And there was no one else around to do it. Plus, he was Andrea’s only heir, so he would probably be awarded custody of Andrea’s ranch, which was much larger than his ranch.”

  “I bet that looked kind of suspicious to police, didn’t it?” Cassie asked.

  “It sure did,” Kelly said. “So shaggy mountain man Dennis had to be questioned by police. All of us worried how well he would hold up under police questioning, but Dennis did just fine.”

  “So did anyone push Andrea down the stairs, or did she fall?”

  “It turned out that Jim Carson, the guy who was living with Andrea, was the one who pushed her,” Kelly continued. “He admitted it after some hikers in Poudre Canyon told police that they had finished a hike down by the Poudre River and were walking along that section where some of the houses were and they saw a man and a woman standing on the stairs arguing. The woman stood on the stairs below the man. Apparently, the couple was arguing loudly, and the man reached out toward the woman once or twice. The hikers walked past quickly, but they told police when authorities were asking for the public’s help in gathering information. Burt told us police grew suspicious of Jim Carson’s earlier answers to their questions, so they called him in again, and he admitted he and Andrea had a heated argument and he thinks he accidentally reached out, but didn’t mean to push her.”

  “So shaggy mountain man Dennis didn’t get arrested,” Cassie said. “That’s great. He actually sounds like a really good guy.”

  “Oh, Dennis is a great guy. Maybe sometime Jayleen can get him to stay in town long enough to meet for lunch,” Kelly said.

  “Since that was the year of the wildfires, you and Eric probably remember all the forest and land restoration we did in Bellevue Canyon,” Megan said. “You two were right in there helping with the rest of us.”

  Cassie stared into the main room. “Now that you mention it, I do remember helping with cleaning up the scrub brush that had burned along the top of that ridge in the canyon. Thank goodness those few trees along that ridge were the only areas that were burned.”

  Kelly leaned forward and indulged in a big stretch. “And that brings us up to the current times. So no more trips down memory lane.”

  “Well, not quite,” Jennifer spoke up. “Don’t forget the case that affected us all. When our favorite nurse Barb was caught up in a true crime of vengeance.”

  “Oh Lord. You’re right,” Kelly said.

  “Oh brother. I had definitely put that memory into the back of my mind,” Megan said.

  “You probably remember that one, Cassie,” Kelly said. “Nurse Barb’s son Tommy was a young doctor doing his medical residency here in Fort Connor. He had a scholarship to help him pay his bills, plus he was working nights at several urgent care facilities that were open all night.”

  Cassie cocked her head to the side. “You know, I do remember that. Didn’t some female patient come into the facility late at night and accuse Barb’s son of assaulting her during the medical exam? Groping her, or something like that?”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Rosa said emphatically, her knitting needles picking up speed. “I still remember how upset Mimi and Burt were at those charges. Barb’s son Tommy was like an adopted grandson to them, and they were so supportive of him. He’d worked so hard to obtain the good grades that awarded him the scholarship, and when that girl accused Tommy of assault, well, Mimi and Burt along with Barb were scared Tommy would lose his job as a doctor at the health care clinic. Police came to question Tommy at the clinic in front of all the other doctors and medical staff.” Rosa’s expression saddened.

  “That girl, Laura Brewster was her name, turned out to be a real piece of work,” Jennifer added. “We learned that years before, she had also accused one of Lisa’s favorite professors at the university of sexual assault in his office. Lisa said the professor’s entire family suffered under those false charges. The professor kept his academic position, but other professors started shunning him, refusing to share academic consulting with him. Even his wife left him, and he spiraled downward. He started frequenting the bars around town, usually getting so drunk he’d fall down. So sad.”

  “That’s terrible,” Cassie said. “She was the one who was murdered, right?”

  “Yes. She was found dead in her apartment near the university,” Megan answered. “Police said she was strangled to death.”

  “And, since Tommy had been accused of assaulting her in the medical clinic the week before, naturally, he became Murder Suspect Number One.” Kelly took another sip of her coffee.

  “Oh yes. Now I’m remembering more,” Cassie said. “Wasn’t there something about the medical examiner?”

  “Yes, indeed,” Rosa said. “The medical examiner found skin cells beneath the victim’s fingernails, which meant she tried to fight off her killer, and once they ran DNA tests, they finally were able to get a partial match with Tommy’s skin cell sample he had submitted to police. That partial match made them suspicious, and they eventually tested Barb’s DNA, and that was a true match.” Rosa gave a “that’s that” nod.

  “That’s it?” Cassie asked.

  “All of us figured that Nurse Barb had simply snapped,” Kelly said. “She’d gone over to that student Laura Brewster’s apartment one night. Maybe she tried to convince her to drop those phony charges against Tommy. Who knows? Barb later told Burt and me that Laura Brewster sneered at her and taunted Barb. Then Barb told us something inside her suddenly changed. She found her hands around Laura Brewster’s neck, and she squeezed until Brewster was dead, and Barb said she really believed she’d removed an evil presence from the world.”

  “And no remorse, Burt said,” Jennifer offered.

  “None at all,” Kelly added.

  “All of that is coming back into memory now,” Cassie said.

  “Boy oh boy,” Megan said. “That one was the saddest Lambspun dramatic event. Nurse Barb was a good person at heart.”

  “She surely was,” Rosa agreed.

  “Those are unbelievable stories, guys, and don’t worry, I would never ask Mimi about any of those murders,” Cassie promised as she returned to her stack of magazines.

  “We know you wouldn’t. You’ve got good instincts,” Kelly said with a wink as she rose from her chair. “I think I need another refill after all those memories,” she said.

  “I’m right behind you,” Rosa said, shoving her knitting into her large tapestry bag.

  * * *

  • • •

  Kelly took her coffee mug, walked out of the main room, and headed through the central yarn room toward the corridor that led to Pete’s Porch Café, located at the rear of the Lambspun shop.

  She spotted Jennifer standing beside the grill counter loading scrumptious-looking platters of lunch and breakfast food onto her tray. The café regulars who enjoyed a late breakfast filled the tables in the main café.

  “Hey, Jennifer, how are you folks doing? Looks busy as usual.”

  “Hi, Kelly,” Jennifer greeted her with a bright smile. “Definitely busy. Now that the university spring semester has finished, the summer special camps and seminars have started.” She balanced the platters on her tray.

  “Oh yes. That brings a whole bunch of visitors to town. So I’m not surprised they find their way over here for brunch.”

  “Julie will take care of you. I’m busy with the other room.” Jennifer lifted the tray with both hands and headed toward the larger room at the front of the café.

  Kelly noticed that even her favorite single table in the café alcove was occupied, so she slid onto a counter stool alongside the busy kitchen. Café waitress Julie was on the other side of the counter filling cups of coffee on her tray.

  “Hey, Kelly. We don’t often see you here at the counter. That means you must be hungry,” Julie said with her usual friendly smile.

>   “Well, I’m not starving, but I could be tempted with one of Eduardo’s delicious cheese omelets.”

  “You got it. I’ll put the order in.” Julie nodded toward the grill where chief cook Eduardo and his new assistant cook Larry were busy scrambling eggs for the late breakfast crowd and grilling sandwiches for the early lunch crowd.

  “I see you folks are cooking breakfast food as well as lunch sandwiches,” Kelly observed. “Something for everybody as usual.”

  “You got that right,” Julie said with a laugh, and she scribbled on her waitress pad then added it to the slips of paper on the countertop bordering the grill.

  “How are those accounting classes coming along, Julie?” Kelly asked, looking at the friendly waitress. She figured Julie must be only a little younger than she was, maybe late thirties.

  “They’re coming along fine, actually,” Julie said, her pretty face brightening even more. “I know this is simply the beginning level of accounting, but I really enjoy it. There’s something about working with all those numbers that’s so, I don’t know . . . so satisfying. I know that sounds crazy.” She gave a little laugh.

  “Not at all, Julie,” Kelly replied with a grin. “That’s exactly how accountants feel when we balance all the accounts. It’s satisfying. People who don’t enjoy working with numbers and math like we do simply don’t understand. It sounds crazy to them that we can actually enjoy all those numbers. But . . . call us crazy, we do enjoy it.”

  “That makes me feel normal to hear you say that,” Julie said with a little shrug of her shoulders. “Some of my friends think I’m weird. At least my boyfriend, Andy, understands. He feels the same way about his courses in marketing and economics.”

  Kelly vaguely recalled Julie telling her that she’d met a “really nice” guy in one of her business classes at the local university.

  “I think I remember your mentioning that you’d met someone, and it sounded like he was kind of special.” Kelly gave Julie an encouraging grin. Julie was usually quiet and didn’t talk about herself. But she had been sharing with Kelly some of her new experiences at business school.