Knit Fast, Die Young

by Mary Kruger

  “Oh yes. Felicia would want it that way.”

  “Who will be in charge?”

  “Oh, Debbie, of course, at least for now. She knows the ins and outs of it, and she’s quite intelligent.”

  “How did she and Felicia get along?” Briggs asked.

  “Quite well.” His gaze became hard. “You surely aren’t implying that Debbie would hurt Felicia, are you?”

  “Would she?”

  “Good heavens, no. Debbie idolized Felicia.”

  “Mm-hm.” Briggs sounded skeptical. “Does Debbie know that she’ll be running the magazine?”

  “Oh, I imagine so. Felicia relied on her quite a bit.”

  “Was she actually told, though?”

  “Felicia was still getting her affairs in order.”

  “What about money, Mr. Barr?” Briggs asked. “Did your wife have any?”

  “Yes, but not from the magazine. Running a magazine is expensive. She began turning a profit several years ago, but it was not an enormous producer. Most of Felicia’s money came from her parents.”

  “And you think that Debbie knows none of this?” Josh said.

  “Not explicitly, no, but she may suspect. Felicia treated her like a daughter. So did I, for that matter. She certainly needed it.”

  “Why?”

  “She left home when she was seventeen. I gather it wasn’t entirely voluntary.”

  “Oh?”

  “I don’t know all the reasons, but I heard she had a bad relationship with her parents from the beginning. Among other things, Debbie’s mother is an alcoholic. I doubt Debbie has contacted her in years.”

  “Did Debbie know about Felicia’s daughter?”

  “Not that I know of. So far as I know, I’m the only one Felicia told.”

  “How did her daughter get in touch with Felicia?” Charlie asked. “A letter? A phone call?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “She could have called the magazine,” Josh said.

  “Why would she have done that?”

  Briggs shot Josh a swift, approving glance. “Let’s say that the daughter discovered that Felicia was her mother. What would be the easiest way for her to make contact?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

  “Through the magazine. She could very well have called the office.”

  “I’ve no idea.”

  “If she did, others could have known.”

  “I doubt it,” Winston repeated.

  “Could she have come to the office?”

  “No, I don’t believe so.”

  “Then how could she prove who she was?”

  “They met,” Winston said, reluctantly.

  “They did?” Briggs rapped out.

  “Against my wishes, yes.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We didn’t know the girl. We didn’t know what she wanted.”

  “But Felicia didn’t feel the same way?”

  “No. At least, she didn’t feel as strongly as I did. I think she had mixed feelings about the girl.”

  “You keep calling her the girl,” Charlie said. “You don’t know who she is?”

  “No, gentlemen, Felicia never told me. But when she mentioned changing her will, I feared the worst.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe she was going to leave her estate to her.”

  Again, Josh was rattled. He could see, looking in the eyes of both Charlie and Briggs, that they were, too. “Who knew about this?” Briggs demanded.

  “So far as I know, just the lawyers and myself,” Winston said.

  “Not the girl?”

  “I couldn’t say. I don’t believe so, but Felicia didn’t confide in me.”

  “Ever?” Josh put in.

  “Not in this case. May I trouble you for some water?”

  “Sure.” Josh got up to go to the counter, while behind him the questioning continued. No doubt about it. What Winston had just told them changed everything.

  “Why not this time?” Charlie asked.

  “She knew I disapproved. Thank you.” Everything was suspended while Winston pulled out a pillbox and swallowed a good deal of its contents with the water Josh gave him. “I have to stick to a schedule,” he commented, putting the pillbox away. “Now. Where were we?”

  “Why did you disapprove of your wife’s plans?” Briggs said.

  “We didn’t know anything about this girl, Captain. She could have been nobody, someone off the street playing on Felicia’s sympathies. Felicia could be a soft touch. Oh yes, that’s true,” he went on, at the others’ skeptical looks. “She worked for charities that helped give disadvantaged young women a break. For instance, she donated to one charity that helped girls get funding for an education, and she started a program where women who were going to job interviews could use someone’s gently used clothes. That one got a lot of response. Some of those young ladies went to work wearing designer suits. But she was behind the scenes. She didn’t do any of that for credit.”

  “So you’re saying this girl, whoever she is, could be one of the girls Felicia helped?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “How would she know that Felicia had a child?” Josh asked.

  “I couldn’t tell you that, gentlemen. As I’ve told you, Felicia kept that part of her life private.”

  Josh had been doing some math, based on Felicia’s age. “She’s in her late twenties,” he said. “The girl, that is.”

  “About that, yes.”

  There were several people in Barn B who were around that age. “How did she find Felicia?”

  “I’m not quite sure. Adoption records back then were sealed, but I understand there are ways around that. She may have used a private detective. And she must have been thrilled when she found out about Felicia,” he said, his voice bitter. “She must have thought she’d landed in clover.”

  “All right, so let’s go over this,” Briggs said. “Felicia was thinking of changing her will in favor of the daughter she gave up for adoption. However, no one knows who this girl is. No one knows if she knew about Felicia’s will. In fact, almost no one knew Felicia was going to change her will. Does that about sum it up?”

  Winston inclined his head. “It does.”

  “Did Debbie know?” Charlie asked with studied casualness.

  “I don’t believe so, no.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  “No, but I doubt it.”

  “How do you think she’d react if she knew she was going to lose everything?”

  “She didn’t even know for sure she was going to get anything! Gentlemen, are we through? I’m rather tired.”

  Briggs hesitated. “For the moment,” he said. “Where will you be staying?”

  “I don’t yet know.”

  “There are some decent bed-and-breakfasts around here,” Josh said. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine Winston staying in the chain motel where most of the festival participants were registered. Among other reasons, he wasn’t a suspect.

  “Thank you. I will look into that.” He rose and then simply stood, holding on to the table’s edge. He did look tired; his face was gray and there were circles under his eyes.

  “I’ll see you out, sir,” Josh said, taking the other man’s arm.

  “Thank you,” Winston said and, after putting on his coat, he went out with Josh as an escort.

  The silence in Barn B was deafening after Winston left. Even Debbie’s sobs had ceased, leaving everyone uneasy and at a loss as to what to say. From Debbie’s actions this morning, no one could have suspected that she was so grief stricken. Certainly Ari hadn’t.

  “Did she really treat you like a daughter?” Lauren said finally.

  “Yes.” Debbie nodded without looking up. “She was good to me.”

  “Some mother she’d’ve been,” Beth muttered.

  “Oh, stow it, Marley!” Debbie snapped. “You don’t know anything about it.”

  “Felicia wasn’t no
ted for her kindness.”

  “Oh yes she was, and you of all people should know it.”

  Beth opened her mouth to say something, and then apparently thought better of it. Debbie, watching her, gave a short nod and turned away. For the moment, Beth was silent.

  “Debbie, Felicia had a rough reputation,” Ari said, but gently. She was still stunned by Debbie’s outburst. The last thing she wanted was for that to happen again, though she was puzzled by Debbie’s cryptic remark to Beth.

  “She said what she thought,” Debbie said. “It was just her way.”

  “ ‘Her way’ didn’t help me,” Lauren said coldly. Debbie looked at her. “You ended up all right, Lauren. Your designs weren’t quite there yet. Anyway, Felicia never criticized someone who didn’t deserve it.”

  “She praised people who didn’t deserve it, if they bought ads.”

  “That’s a myth.”

  “But I’ve heard that, too, Debbie, and there are times it seemed true,” Ari said.

  “Felicia didn’t do that. Did she, Beth?”

  Beth muttered something that no one caught. From the look on her face, Ari thought that was just as well. “It did make things hard on people,” Ari continued.

  “Sometimes she seemed to criticize everything. Like this morning.”

  Debbie frowned. “I know. I don’t know what got into her. I know that there were things here she would have liked ordinarily. You stood up to her.”

  “I had nothing to lose. I don’t—didn’t need her approval.”

  “No. She did like your designs, though. She probably wasn’t feeling well. Maybe Winston was right.” Debbie gazed unseeingly across the barn. “Maybe this was for the best.”

  “Debbie!”

  “She didn’t suffer. Poor Winston.”

  Ari had been watching Debbie closely and had seen something that might have been relief flicker briefly in her eyes. “Debbie, was Felicia sick?”

  Debbie turned to her. “What makes you say that?”

  “Was she?”

  Debbie didn’t answer right away. “Yes. Cancer.”

  “Melanoma?”

  “How in hell do you know that?”

  “I don’t, but I saw a mole on the back of her neck.”

  “Another one? Oh, poor Felicia.”

  “Couldn’t they treat it?” Nancy said.

  Debbie shook her head. “It had spread. She didn’t have much longer, she and Winston. Oh, poor Winston. This will kill him.” She closed her eyes. “And maybe that’s just as well, too.”

  “You’re doing it again,” Diane said.

  “What?” Debbie asked, straightening.

  “Saying these damned strange things that don’t do you any good.”

  “Is Winston sick, too?” Ari asked.

  Once again, Debbie hesitated. “Yes,” she said finally. “Pancreatic cancer.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “They always said they did everything together,” Debbie said, and sank her head to her knees.

  “Is he going to be all right?”

  “No.” Debbie’s voice was muffled. “It was strange.” She straightened, and though she was pale, her eyes were dry. “Felicia started having tests, and then out of the blue Winston’s doctor gave him this death sentence. And then she was diagnosed the next week. It was horrible.”

  “How many people know about this?” Ari asked, after a few moments of silence.

  “Not many. Why?”

  “Because whoever killed Felicia must not have known.”

  “That kind of lets me off the hook, doesn’t it?” Debbie pressed her fingers to her eyes. “I loved that woman. I love Winston. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

  Unexpectedly Lauren got up and slipped past Ari, to sit beside Debbie. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I lost my mother last year. It’s hard.”

  “Awfully hard. But at least she won’t suffer now.”

  That much was true, Ari thought, though it was a strange way of looking at things. It also, in a strange way, gave Debbie a motive. Had she loved Felicia enough to spare her pain? It was a twisted motive, true, but in Ari’s experience people could kill for the strangest of reasons.

  She looked covertly at the people around her, and at Annie, still sitting across from them, furiously knitting. The Suspects Club, Ari thought. Because she still couldn’t rule out anyone. Not even Debbie.

  Chapter 9

  Winston Barr had left, with police permission, to find a place to stay overnight. Apart from the fact that he was too tired to make the long drive back to New York tonight, he faced the formality of identifying Felicia’s body in the morning. The medical examiner’s office in Boston was busy and sometimes got backed up, but Briggs had requested the autopsy to be done as soon as possible to confirm the official cause of death.

  By now everyone had been questioned, and most of the festival participants had left. The first phase of the investigation was over, but Winston Barr had thrown them a curveball.

  “Everything’s twisted,” Briggs said.

  “Ari’s involved,” Charlie said, stretching. The three of them were slumped in their seats at a table in Barn A, tired and just a little discouraged.

  “That’s not fair,” Josh protested. “She just stumbled into it.”

  “Literally.”

  “If those search warrants would come back, we could find that blue yarn and we’d have our killer,” Briggs said.

  “Not likely today.” Following Ari’s description of the blue yarn, the police had applied for search warrants for the possessions and cars of everyone remaining in the barn, but the process was slow. It was hard to find a judge on a Saturday. “Even if they do, what does that prove?” Mason went on. “Without the yarn that Ari saw, we can’t link it to anyone in particular. Hell, you could argue that in a place like this, it’s easy to pick up yarn. Even if we found it, how’d we know it was the right one?”

  “Ari would recognize it,” Josh said.

  “And are we supposed to take that to court?” Briggs said. “She might know yarn, but any competent lawyer would be able to knock her testimony out.”

  “We can’t even trace the knitting needle to anyone.”

  The three of them gloomily studied the object on the table. A few moments earlier, a trooper had brought in a knitting needle, found in a garbage can that had already been searched that morning, near Barn B. It was a size nine, orchid in color, and made of aluminum. It was also a perfect match for the murder weapon.

  “Damn,” Charlie said, but without heat. “How did the killer get rid of it with everyone watching?”

  “She could have wrapped it in her sandwich paper,” Josh said.

  “And no one noticed,” Briggs barked. “I want to know why the hell not.”

  “I want to know how the killer got away without anyone noticing anything,” Charlie retorted. “No one saw her with Felicia. No one saw the attack.”

  “And no fingerprints on the needle.” Briggs’s voice was matter-of-fact, calming them all a little. Tempers were starting to run high. It would be bad if they started fighting with each other.

  “Do you think Felicia’s daughter is here?” Josh asked finally.

  “No way to know. We don’t have her name.” Charlie stretched and rose. “If I drink any more of this coffee I think I’ll spit.”

  “I’ll make some more.” Josh was glad to have something to do for the moment.

  “Do you think Debbie knows about Felicia’s daughter?” Josh said.

  “No way of knowing without asking her.”

  “Assuming she tells us the truth.” Briggs put down his walkie-talkie. “I’ve just sent for her.”

  “Good.” Charlie sat down, a fresh cup before him. “Be interesting to hear what she has to say.”

  “Yeah.” Josh sprawled in his chair. He didn’t need to say what they all were thinking. If Debbie knew of Felicia’s plans, she wouldn’t want to see any of that money, not to mention the magazine, go to a stranger.
>
  “I wonder what Ari knows,” Josh said softly.

  Briggs’s look was sharp. “What do you mean?”

  “She’s stuck in the barn with the others. She’s in a better position to learn about them than we are.”

  “We can’t get a civilian involved in this investigation,” Briggs pointed out.

  Josh was quiet a moment, and then nodded. Things were different this time around than they had been the last time Ari was involved in a murder investigation. Briggs was a very by-the-book cop. “I suppose not.”

  Charlie leaned forward. “Ari does know more about this world than we do.”

  “Nothing she could tell us would be admissible in court,” Briggs said. “It would be hearsay.”

  “It might point us in the right direction.”

  “It might point the killer in her direction. No. We aren’t using her.”

  Not officially, Josh thought, but there were ways for him to find out what she knew without Briggs finding out. He’d just have to be careful.

  The door opened at that moment and Debbie came in, with Trooper Lopes just behind her. She was pale and subdued, a far cry from the young woman who had acted so strangely that morning.

  “Is Winston okay?” she asked, not making a move toward the table.

  “He was a little tired, but otherwise he seemed fine,” Josh said, rising and pulling out a chair for her. “Sit down, Ms. Patrino.”

  “Why?” She didn’t move. “I thought you were done with me.”

  “Some things have come up we’d like your help with,” Briggs said.

  Debbie moved at last, sitting at the table, again facing the three of them. “I can’t imagine what.”

  “You said before you thought you’d be getting the magazine. Did you know that for sure?” Briggs asked.

  “No.”

  “Mrs. Barr never said anything?”

  “Well, she hinted, but that’s all.”

  “How?”

  “At first she’d say things like I was really too young to run a magazine. I thought she was criticizing me. That’s when I didn’t know her well.”

  “Yes. How well did you know her?”

  Debbie looked surprised. “About as well as anyone, I guess.”

  “Do you know if she helped any charities?”

  “No. Did she?”