“Too bad for you,” Marty countered. “I can pay more. You shouldn’t have bought the pizza.”
“You take credit cards?” Greg fished through his wallet.
Kelly laughed, giving Lisa a wave as she approached. “Okay, okay, I’ll make you guys a deal. I’ll divide up the cookies for twenty bucks each, okay?”
“Fair enough,” Marty said, handing over a twenty. “Worthy cause.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Greg agreed, dropping a bill on the table as Kelly unwrapped the package. “You don’t mind if I watch. Marty might grab one.”
“Are you guys fighting about food again?” Lisa asked as she joined them.
“Who, us?” Marty looked astonished.
“Hey, Kelly, I just had a call from Lizzie. She’s going over to Claudia’s place again. Keeping her company tonight like she has been.”
“Has Lizzie heard the news about Claudia?” Kelly asked as she rewrapped the divided cookies.
“Yeah, Mimi told her. But Lizzie’s still convinced Claudia’s innocent.”
“See, that’s one person,” Marty said, accepting the cookies. “Now all I have to do is convince a jury.”
Lisa shook her head, blue and green scarf dangling around her neck. “I don’t know, guys. It’s hard to know what to think.”
Kelly handed Greg his package and glanced at her friends. “That makes two of us, Lisa.”
Twelve
Kelly glanced around the exterior surroundings of Claudia’s motel as she knocked on the door. Sheila was right. Seedy was a good description of the Happy Traveler Inn. Cars were parked in a cluster across the broken concrete from the rooms themselves. A scrubby excuse for a hedge ran the length of the walkway beside the motel. Obviously a previous owner had made an attempt to muffle the noise of the interstate highway nearby.
The door opened a fraction and Lizzie peeked through the opening. “Oh, Kelly, come in! Come in! Claudia will be so glad to see you,” she said, holding the door wide.
“I thought you ladies might like some hot cinnamon rolls for Sunday morning breakfast. I even brought coffee,” Kelly said as she entered the small room. She spotted Claudia sitting in a straight-backed chair beside the television set in the corner.
“Oh, that’s lovely. How thoughtful of you, Kelly. Isn’t it, Claudia?”
A pale Claudia answered in a soft voice from across the room. “Yes, thank you.”
No designer suit this morning. Today Claudia wore a dark blue tailored shirt over navy pants. Kelly had never seen her look so somber. Claudia barely resembled her former vivacious self. She sat slumped in a chair, unsmiling, and barely made eye contact. She also appeared to be wearing no makeup, which was unheard of for a woman like Claudia, who prided herself on her appearance.
Kelly deliberately sought Claudia’s gaze and gave her an encouraging smile. “I thought I’d give you ladies an update on the holiday bazaar. Lisa, Megan, and I took turns manning the booth Saturday, and we’re going back today. Mimi has her hands full supplying both the Lambspun booth and the fiber crafts booth. I swear, we must have sold over eighty sets of hats, gloves, and mittens yesterday.”
She handed one of the warm pastries to Claudia and placed a carryout cup of coffee on the table beside her. Claudia glanced up, and Kelly saw her struggle to produce a little smile.
“Thanks, Kelly. That’s . . . that’s sweet of you.”
Kelly pulled out a chair for Lizzie and settled herself on the edge of the bed. “You’ll both be pleased to know that your knitted hats and mittens were some of the first purchases. Superior quality, no doubt.”
Lizzie smiled obediently as she toyed with her coffee cup. Claudia had touched neither pastry nor coffee. Kelly took a deep drink of her own coffee, searching for the right words to say what she wanted to say. Finally, she simply blurted out her feelings.
“Claudia, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about your, uh, your legal situation. I wish there was something I could do to help, but . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Claudia looked up and stared directly into Kelly’s eyes. “You’ve already helped, Kelly. You found wonderful young Marty to represent me. He’s an excellent lawyer and smart as a whip, too. He’ll save me. I know he will.” Claudia nodded with fervor, her eyes alight.
Kelly felt her heart squeeze. No matter how smart or how fine a lawyer Marty was, he couldn’t change the facts in the case. Claudia looked guilty as hell. And Lawyer Marty couldn’t “save” her from the facts.
Since Claudia had already opened that door, Kelly decided to walk right through it. “Marty said you told him you never left the motel that night.”
“I didn’t, Kelly. Please believe me!” Claudia swore earnestly as she leaned forward. “I never left the motel. Besides, I don’t even know that woman, Juliet Renfrow. I’ve never even met her.”
“When did you leave that evening, Lizzie?”
Lizzie stared at her cup. “I left around eight o’clock or so. It was getting close to my bedtime, I’m afraid.” She glanced up with a contrite expression. “Oh, how I wish I’d stayed later. Then Claudia would have an . . . an alibi, isn’t that what they call it?”
Kelly had to smile. “That’s okay, Lizzie. You can’t worry about such things.” Turning to Claudia again, she said, “Think back, Claudia. Was there anything you did that might prove you were in your room? Did you order food? Anything at all?”
Claudia frowned for a moment. “No, I didn’t. Lizzie was kind enough to bring me something from the restaurant down the street before she left.” She shook her head. “No one came to the door. I stayed in and tried to watch television. Then my daughter called, and I talked to her for quite a while.”
“Hey, that’s something,” Kelly said, feeling a little rush of excitement.
The excitement of discovery. The discovery of clues. Kelly hadn’t poked around in any crimes since last winter. “Sleuthing,” as her friends called it. She’d forgotten how addictive it could be. And how dangerous.
“When did your daughter call? Can you remember?”
“Uhhhh, it was later that evening. I can’t remember exactly.”
Later in the evening. Juliet Renfrow was hit and killed later in the evening, when she walked back to her home from Jeremy’s house. “Claudia, did you tell Marty about your daughter’s call?”
Claudia looked away. “I . . . I can’t remember. Everything about yesterday is just a blur. Maybe I didn’t tell him.”
Lizzie reached over and placed her hand on Claudia’s arm. “You must call him, dear. Right now. Your daughter’s phone call could prove that you were here in the motel that night.”
“Yes . . . you’re right. I’ll call him . . . right away,” Claudia said, glancing about the room. “Have you seen my cell phone?”
That was Kelly’s next question, and Claudia just answered it. Claudia had a cell phone. Cell phones were portable. If Claudia’s daughter did indeed call her mother in late evening, the fact that Claudia’s call came in on a cell phone would prove nothing. As far as the police were concerned, Claudia could have been parked in her car on the street, talking with her daughter while she waited for Juliet Renfrow to appear.
“That’s a good idea,” Kelly encouraged anyway. “Marty can contact your daughter and obtain her phone records as well as yours.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Lizzie exclaimed. “It will prove Claudia’s innocent!”
Kelly couldn’t let them build up false hope. It would be unkind. “Well, not exactly, Lizzie. Since Claudia has a cell phone, which is portable, the police won’t consider it proof that Claudia was in her motel room.”
Lizzie’s happiness deflated in an instant, like a child’s popped birthday balloon. She bit her lip.
Claudia appeared crestfallen. “You’re right, Kelly,” she murmured. “But . . . but what about a call here in the room? My daughter had to call me twice, because my cell phone battery was low. And she called me the second time here in the motel room.”
; Kelly stared back into Claudia’s eyes. Her gaze was clear and open. Honest and sincere. She appeared to be telling the truth. Why then was there a little niggling doubt in the back of Kelly’s mind?
Why hadn’t Claudia remembered that crucial information before? If there were phone records, they would show the motel phone number. Maybe that could help prove Claudia’s whereabouts. Why then hadn’t she remembered it until now, after Kelly told her the cell phone wouldn’t prove anything?
“Claudia, you need to call Marty right away and tell him all of this. It’s important,” Kelly said as she stood up. “I’ve got to leave for the bazaar, but I’ll be in touch.”
“Thank you, Kelly,” Claudia said as she dug in her purse. “I’ll call Marty right now. You’re a lifesaver.”
Kelly didn’t reply. She simply walked to the door, Lizzie accompanying her. “Give me a call later, will you, Lizzie?”
“Oh, yes, dear, I certainly will.” Lizzie’s excited coloring had returned.
“Has anyone come to relieve you? Have you gotten to church?” Heaven help that the churchgoing Lizzie would miss Sunday Mass.
“Actually, I’ve convinced Claudia to come with me. We’re going to the twelve noon service.” Lizzie glanced over her shoulder at Claudia, who was already engaged in a phone conversation. “Claudia needs to get out of this room and back with people, but she’s afraid that no one will speak to her. She’s convinced everyone in town is gossiping about her. Even so, I’m going to do my very best to take her out. Even if I have to force her.”
Kelly saw the determination on the elderly knitter’s face. “That’s a good idea, Lizzie. And a church service is a good place to start,” she said as she opened the door. “Better say a prayer for Claudia.”
Kelly leaned against the knitting booth’s front table. It was nearly empty. The last of the Hats for the Homeless had flown off the tables as if they had wings. Lambspun sweaters, scarves, crocheted shawls, felted purses, everything fiber-related went like veritable hotcakes. Clearly, the throngs that clogged the bazaar aisles were doing their Christmas shopping.
Now all Kelly had to do was finish hers. She’d only gotten four presents yesterday. Lisa, Megan, Jennifer, and Mimi. She was seriously behind on shopping. Once Megan came to relieve her, Kelly could join the holiday hordes once again.
A middle-aged woman walked up to the booth beside Kelly’s. Quickly shedding her winter coat, she set about arranging the stacks of fliers and brochures that littered the front table. They all advertised an antique shop on the southern edge of Fort Connor.
“I was wondering if someone would show up at your booth today,” Kelly said. “There were several people working yesterday.”
The woman glanced up with a smile. “Those were mostly family members. I had to man the shop all day.”
Kelly remembered a comment Mimi made at Thanksgiving. “So, you’re the antique shop owner. I think we have a mutual friend, Mimi Shafer.”
“Oh, yes. Mimi and I go way back,” the woman said as she approached. “From the days when we were first young professors’ wives here in town. Getting used to the university life and Fort Connor. Of course, Fort Connor was much smaller then.”
Kelly extended her hand. “I’m Kelly Flynn, and I think Mimi must have mentioned me. I sold an older farmhouse in Wyoming last summer, and it was filled with antiques. My cousin Martha had quite a collection.”
The woman’s eyes lit up. “Ohhhh, yes! I remember Mimi telling me about that. Apparently she’d seen them, too. She said you had some lovely pieces. She also mentioned you might be interested in selling some.”
Kelly shrugged good-naturedly. “Not yet, I’m afraid. I want to wait and see if I find a house I like. Nothing has struck my fancy yet. Meanwhile, they’re all in storage.”
“Well, if you change your mind, please give me a call.” She handed Kelly a business card. Then, glancing to the side, she said, “Sheila, you didn’t have to come in again today. My daughter said you worked last night.”
Sheila Miller approached, dark blue winter jacket dangling over her arm. “It’s the holiday season, and I wanted to be useful,” she said, darting a look at Kelly.
Kelly decided to stifle any annoyance or dislike she might feel toward Sheila and be friendly. In the spirit of the holidays. “Hey, Sheila. Looks like you’re doing double duty like me. Didn’t I see you the other night at Saint Mark’s helping with the children’s knitting projects?”
Clearly surprised at Kelly’s pleasant observation, Sheila managed to return Kelly’s smile. “Yes, I’ve been trying to help them every night for a couple of weeks now, so the kids could finish on time. Besides, there’s so much to do at the church, getting ready for the holidays.” Her smile widened, and Kelly watched Sheila’s normally stern expression melt away.
“Good for you. Jennifer and I have only been able to manage a few nights. But Hilda and Lizzie have been working every night, especially since . . .” She left the rest of the sentence dangling to avoid any mention of Juliet Renfrow’s death.
Sheila’s expression sobered anyway. “Yes, they’re organizing everything at Saint Mark’s, it seems. I heard they’re even in charge of the Nativity portion of the Christmas Eve family service. Now that’s a job I wouldn’t want. Teenagers are nothing but trouble, from what I’ve seen.”
Kelly had to laugh. Sheila Miller actually had a sense of humor. Who would have thought? Turning her attention back to the browsing bazaar shoppers strolling past, Kelly called out, “Holiday hats and mittens! Only a few left.”
Three women approached the antique booth, and Kelly recognized them as some of Mimi’s new crochet students. They were also the same ones who had clustered near Hilda and Sheila at the knitting table the other day. They were the Anti-Claudia group and had been asked to leave with all the rest of the arguing fiber folk.
“Sheila, have you heard?” one of the women said as she raced up, the others close behind.
“Claudia Miller killed Juliet Renfrow!” another interrupted as they clustered about the front table.
“I told you she was desperate, didn’t I?” another barbed, jabbing her friend’s shoulder.
Sheila caught Kelly’s gaze briefly then turned her attention back to the hovering gossipers. “Yes, yes, I’ve heard. It’s simply awful, isn’t it? Claudia’s behavior has shocked even me, and I thought I’d seen everything.”
Kelly started rearranging the assortment of yarns left for sale, while she stayed attuned to the conversation nearby.
“I heard the police want to put her in jail!” the first woman announced.
“How awful!” another declared.
“Serves her right. She’s a murderer.” The third emphasized the word.
Kelly had to bite her tongue to keep from responding to the vicious gossip. Claudia wasn’t imagining things. The news of Claudia’s implication in Juliet’s death was spreading faster than a Colorado wildfire.
“Away in a manger . . .” the recorded choir sang overhead. Kelly shuffled her grip on her packages so she could grasp the Cinnamon Spiced Latte the young barista handed over the counter.
“Thanks,” Kelly said before weaving her way through the crush of holiday shoppers who’d decided to take a sugar break the same time she did. Maneuvering around them, Kelly escaped the popular mall coffee shop and headed toward the central plaza. She vowed to keep shopping until she’d found at least one more present for Steve.
Since Megan had relieved her at the bazaar booth, Kelly had been shopping all afternoon. She’d been to three outdoor shopping centers and several niche brand-name shops. All in the hunt for the “perfect” gift for Steve. So far, she hadn’t found it.
Tools? He had everything.
Cologne? The one he used was her favorite.
Music? She’d already created a mix of his favorites. Ready for Steve to download onto his music player.
She’d also bought him new tennis warm-ups. And found the latest novel from his favorite mystery author.
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But she needed another gift.
In desperation, Kelly fell back on the tried-and-true holiday present that women everywhere—be they wives, mothers, girlfriends, or daughters—fall back on when they can’t think of anything else to buy for the men in their lives.
The Holiday Sweater.
She’d already searched through all the trendy brand-name shops and found several sweaters she knew he’d like. They were all soft and lush with deep forest colors. Steve would love any of them.
Kelly looked down the length of the mall to the department store anchoring one end. Big-Name Department Store. It beckoned, too. It would be awash in men’s sweaters and women pawing through them. Good, solid, Establishment sweaters.
Hmmmm. Establishment sweater or Trendy Brand-Name sweater. Decisions, decisions.
She took a sip of the sugary coffee. It almost made her teeth ache. Pausing near the central plaza, Kelly looked up at the huge Christmas tree dominating the center of the mall. Oversized decorations of every description hung from the branches as lights twinkled.
She wanted something else for Steve. Something different and unique. A sweater just wasn’t unique. What else could she find?
Sipping the sweet drink, Kelly watched Santa’s elves guide waiting children into line for their Santa visits. The younger children wiggled and danced about, barely able to contain their excitement. Older children bided their time, watching the model train circle around the Christmas tree, its track rising onto three levels.
Kelly sipped and watched the little locomotive choo-choo its way around the evergreen branches. Train whistle blowing that sharp tinny sound. Around and around . . .
A train. Why not? She’d had a train when she was a kid. Maybe Steve had, too. Kelly remembered how much fun she and her dad had had setting it up every year. Trains were fun. Sure, it would be a frivolous gift, but it was definitely unique. Would Steve like it?
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