“So, what can I do for you, Detective?”
“Please, Manny, call me Burt.”
Manny shook his head, chuckling. “I’ll try . . . so, what can I do for you, Burt?”
“Well, Kelly and I have been keeping track of some people who’s staying at the Happy Traveler Inn over by the interstate. The manager there told us you were in charge of night security for the motel and parking lot.”
“Yeah, they’re one of our clients. Was there a problem with a guest? I don’t recall Hank reporting any disturbances lately. The Happy Traveler is his beat.”
“Nope, no disturbances,” Burt said. “No problems at all, in fact. We were simply checking to see if your security guard noticed a car with a Florida license plate show up on the lot earlier this month. Would he keep records?”
“Yeah, our guards do make notes if they see anything suspicious or out of order. Let me check his files. We should still have the records for those weeks.” Manny went over to the tall metal filing cabinets alongside the opposite wall. “Do you have a particular date you’re looking at?”
“Matter of fact, we do,” Burt said. “The night of Monday, December the eighth.”
Manny pulled out a drawer and began thumbing through the folders. “Let’s see, here’s the Happy Traveler file. It looks like Hank was on duty that night. That would be the week of December seventh through thirteenth. Okay, here we go.” He pulled out a folder, flipped it open, and returned to his desk as he read.
Kelly held her breath, hoping that the night guard had noticed a woman in a cape or switched cars or license plates or something. Something that would raise enough questions in Detective Dan’s mind to make him investigate.
“Here we go . . . ‘Monday, December eighth.’ ” Manny read out loud. “ ‘Checked lot at eight thirty-five p.m. and found motel guest’s 1999 Taurus, Florida license 233234, gone from regular spot. Replaced by a 2005 Pontiac, Florida license 456457.’ ” Manny glanced up. “Is that what you’re looking for?”
Kelly’s heart was beating so loud, she was sure Manny could hear it. Meanwhile, Burt pulled out a small notepad from his shirt pocket and paged through it.
“Sure is. Sheila has a 2005 Pontiac, and that’s her license plate. I checked it in the parking lot before we came.” Burt glanced to Kelly with a twinkle in his eye. “You’ve still got it, Sherlock.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Manny continued, reading the file. “Hank made another entry three hours later. ‘Checked lot at eleven twenty-nine p.m., 1999 Taurus returned to regular parking slot, and 2005 Pontiac gone.’ ”
Kelly could barely keep her elation from showing. “Is that enough for Dan? What do you think, Burt?”
Burt smiled and flipped the notepad closed. “Oh, yeah, Kelly. I definitely think Dan will be interested in what we’ve found. And in your conclusions. In fact, I’ll go over there right now to tell him. Manny, can you make a copy of that file for me, please?”
“You betcha, Detective . . . uh, Burt.”
Nineteen
Watching Carl gobble down his doggie-kibble breakfast, Kelly closed the glass patio door. The wind was picking up, blowing in over the mountains. That meant a storm front was heading their way.
“You going over to your folks’ now?” Kelly asked as she watched Steve zip up his winter jacket.
“Yeah, I promised my dad I’d check out the stables with him, see what would be involved if he wanted to expand the stalls.” He tossed his new alpaca scarf around his neck. “Should I tell my folks we’ll be joining them for Christmas brunch?”
“Absolutely,” Kelly said before draining her mug. “Are you sure it’s all right to bring Carl? I know he’s trained now, but no telling what he’ll do when he sees livestock again.”
“Oh, yeah. Carl will be fine. We’ll let him roam in the pastures and chase varmints.”
“That’ll work as long as your dad doesn’t decide to cook steaks on the grill. You know, we’re gonna weigh a ton after the holidays. Brunch at your parents’ house, then Christmas dinner at Mimi’s with the whole crowd. I’d better start running extra miles ahead of time.” She checked the coffeepot. Empty. Rats.
“Hey, speaking of dinner, do we have plans tonight? There’s so much going on these last few days, I’ve lost track.” Steve maneuvered around the Christmas tree as he headed to the front door.
“Matter of fact, we do. Thanks for reminding me. Jayleen called last night. We’re invited to Curt’s for a steak and chili supper.” She scooted between the tree’s pine branches and the sofa, following after Steve.
“They must have read my mind. I’ve been thinking about steak. Where’re you off to?” he asked, watching Kelly grab her ski jacket.
“Over to the shop. I figure Mimi and Burt can use all the help they can get these last few days before Christmas.” Shaking her mug, she added, “Plus, I need coffee.”
Steve opened the door before giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll be running around doing last-minute stuff the rest of the afternoon, so I’ll see you tonight. Six o’clock?”
“Sounds good.” Kelly glanced back at the tree. “By the way, where’d that big box come from? I nearly stepped on it trying to get around the tree.”
Steve jogged down the steps. “I dunno, must be Santa Claus.”
“Riiiight.”
He turned and gave Kelly a wink before heading to his truck. “See you later. Say hi to Mimi and Burt.”
Kelly started across the gravel driveway then spun around and called, “Oh, yeah, tell your folks if they really want to get in the holiday mood, they should come to the Saint Mark’s family service on Christmas Eve. I’ve got some ideas that will liven up the Nativity scene.”
Steve grinned out the window. “I can hardly wait.” He revved the big engine, and it came to life with a throaty rumble.
Kelly sped along the stone pathway around the shop to the café’s back entrance and raced up the wooden steps. The wind kicked up, whipping her hair into her face. Icy wind, too. Rushing through the doorway, she let out an exaggerated shiver.
“Brrrr! Don’t anybody ask if it’s cold enough for me,” she declared, giving a wave to Burt as he came around a corner. “I’ve had it with this Colorado hardiness. I’m freezing.”
“Hey, Kelly, I was about to call you,” Burt said, beckoning her to a nearby table in a quiet corner. “Come on over and warm up with some coffee.”
“Thanks, Julie,” Kelly said as the waitress refilled her mug with Eduardo’s black gold. The scent of bacon and eggs floated on the air. “What’s up?” she asked as she joined Burt at the table. She took a deep drink of the dark brew and felt its tangy burn. Ahhhh.
“I heard from Dan this morning, and I thought you’d be interested in the latest police update.” He gave her a smile from over the top of his coffee cup.
Kelly sat up straighter. “You bet! Is Dan going to investigate Sheila?”
“He already has. Dan and the guys spent all day yesterday checking out everything we gave them the day before. They started with Detective Watson in Sarasota, then they talked with Manny Ramirez and his guard, Hank, to confirm their records of the motel parking lot. Then they checked out Sheila’s hotel parking garage files, and they even contacted Connie at home to take her statement about witnessing Sheila stealing Claudia’s car keys. Oh, and they also got a copy of the shop’s sales receipt for Sheila’s cape.”
“Whoa . . .” Kelly breathed. “Dan jumped right on it, didn’t he? Good for him.”
“You bet he did. That evidence is still circumstantial, but Sheila’s motive is a heckuva lot stronger than Claudia’s. As you pointed out,” he added with a wink. “By the way, Dan says thanks.”
Kelly was surprised how good that praise made her feel. She hadn’t lost her sleuthing skills during the long layover. Not a bit. She could still pick up clues and piece things together. As Burt said, You’ve still got it, Sherlock.
She’d also forgotten how good that rush of discovery felt. What a sense
of satisfaction she had after she’d helped solve a puzzle the professionals had missed. It felt good. Really, really good.
“You tell him Junior Detective Flynn is happy to help anytime,” she joked. “What will Dan do now? When’s he going to question Sheila?”
Burt glanced over his shoulder before speaking. No customers were seated in this section of the café. “Matter of fact, Dan will probably be over here sometime this morning. First, he needs a search warrant in order to take Sheila’s cape in for testing.”
“Did Sheila finally bring it in?”
“Oh, no.” Burt shook his head. “After you and I talked, I called Sheila and told her not to bring the cape in yet. Claimed that we were so swamped at the shop we couldn’t even send it out, and if it sat around here one of our temporary helpers might accidentally sell it.” He gave Kelly a sly smile. “So I told her to wait until I called.”
Kelly was already following Burt’s drift. “And that way, the cape never leaves Sheila’s possession, right?”
“You got it.”
“Do you think she’ll try to destroy the cape?” Kelly mused out loud.
Burt shook his head. “I’m guessing she won’t. After all, she promised she’ll sell it to that Michigan buyer. She has no reason to be suspicious.”
“Well, I figure she’s already discovered blood on the cape. I mean, that’s got to be why she’s selling it. What if she tries to wash off the blood?”
“She can try, but she won’t get it all off. There will still be traces of Juliet’s blood on the fibers. Wool is very absorbent, as you know. It absorbs everything we do to it.”
Kelly knew that for a fact. Wool was wonderful for that reason. Its natural elasticity made it flexible. “Forgiving,” fiber folk called it. Whenever her stitches started to tighten, all she had to do was make a little stretching motion with the needles to let the wool breathe. Kelly swore she could almost feel the yarn sigh as it loosened.
“I won’t relax until Sheila’s cape is in police custody,” she said, taking another deep drink of coffee.
“Well, Dan’s pretty confident that he’ll get the search warrant, so I figure he’ll be questioning her pretty soon. Matter of fact, I told him I’d ask Sheila to come over to the shop and help us this morning.” He gave Kelly another sly grin. “That way Dan will know where Sheila is when he wants to talk with her.”
“Won’t she think that’s kind of funny? Your calling her in to help?”
“I pleaded overwhelmed shopkeepers sending out a distress signal. All hands on deck sort of thing,” he joked. “In fact, I told her she would be helping you bag up fibers in the basement and wind skeins of yarn.”
“Sounds good, I’ll—”
The rest of Kelly’s sentence stayed on her tongue when she saw Sheila walk around the corner, coat over her arm, coffee mug in hand, clearly headed toward the shop. Ready to work. Meanwhile, there sat Kelly and Burt drinking coffee. Not bagging fibers, winding yarns, or rushing around taking care of customers. Boy, were they ever busted.
Sheila did a double take and marched up to their table. “I thought you said you needed all hands on deck,” she declared in a skeptical tone. “Have all the customers left? I have my cape in the car. I can bring it in now. It looks like everything has slowed down.”
“Uhhhh,” Kelly began.
Burt stepped in. “We’re just taking a well-deserved break during a temporary lull, Sheila. Believe me, customers were pouring in this morning. The lines stretched all the way into the next room. Sit down and join us, enjoy your coffee. We’ll all head back to the shop in a few minutes.”
Sheila settled into the chair beside Kelly and sipped her coffee. “What is it you want us to do, again? Bag up fibers or something?”
“And wind and weigh yarn skeins, too. We’ve sold out of so many, we have to bring up new stock all the time. But the staff is so busy at the register, they don’t have time to work in the basement. I really appreciate your helping, Sheila,” Burt said with a believable sigh. “I only have two hands, and I figured both you and Kelly had helped at the bazaar and at the church, so maybe you’d help us here.”
Sheila’s frosty attitude melted slightly, Kelly noticed. “Of course I’ll help. It’s the holidays.”
“And don’t forget to come to the Christmas Eve family service,” Kelly suggested, in an attempt to continue the melt. “Jennifer and I are in charge of the—”
Once again, Kelly was interrupted, but this time it was the sight of Mimi racing from the shop and heading their way. But instead of looking harassed and overwhelmed, Mimi looked exuberant. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“You’ll never guess the good news!” she said as she rushed up to them. “Claudia just called and said Fort Connor police are allowing her to return to Florida to face those car theft charges against her.”
Kelly glanced at Burt for a response, but he was studiously examining his coffee mug. “Wow . . . that is good news,” she said, trying not to sound too surprised.
Why would Fort Connor police allow Claudia to return to Florida? Had they already taken her off their suspect list, or simply moved her down a notch?
“What?!” Sheila erupted. “How could they do that? Why would the police let her go to Florida for those—those vehicle charges when she’s killed somebody right here in Fort Connor?”
Mimi gave Sheila a polite smile. “Claudia told me the police said they’ve gotten all the statements they need from her. If they need to ask more questions, then the Florida police can take her written statement.”
“That’s—that’s ridiculous! She’s a murderer!” Sheila spewed again.
This time, Mimi’s smile disappeared completely. “Well, I just spoke with Claudia’s attorney, and he says the police are not going to charge her in Juliet Renfrow’s death.”
“What?!” Sheila nearly shouted. “That’s—that’s ridiculous! She’s a killer!”
“Sheila, try to keep your voice down,” Burt said at last.
“But—but that’s an outrage! She killed that woman. The police found the woman’s blood and fibers from her clothes on Claudia’s car. How can they just let her go like that? She’s guilty of murder.”
“According to Claudia’s attorney, the police have another ‘person of interest’ they’re considering. Isn’t that the right term, Burt?” Mimi said, her tone frosty now.
“Yes, it is,” Burt said, clearly not about to get between Mimi and Sheila in this debate.
Sheila drew back, staring at Mimi, obviously incredulous at what she heard. “That’s absurd. Claudia’s the guilty one. Why are the police wasting their time on some unknown person?”
“You’ll have to ask them,” Mimi replied tartly. “Excuse me, I have to return to the shop now. Customers are waiting.” She executed a turn with almost military precision and walked away.
“This is insane.” Sheila continued her rant. “The police are not doing their jobs. Are they incompetent or something? They’ve got the killer right here, and they’re letting her go!” Her hand jerked out in emphasis.
Kelly sensed the emotional temperature of Sheila’s tirade was red hot about now. Perhaps, with a little more prodding, the controlled, tight-lipped woman would let something slip. It was worth a try.
“Who knows what the police found, Sheila?” Kelly offered with a shrug. “Claudia’s motel is right next to the interstate. Maybe some guys stole her car and went carousing around town. Burt said there was a wild college party going on that night. Maybe some guy confessed that he was drinking and didn’t see Juliet on the street.”
Sheila gave a disgusted snort. “Some drunken driver wearing a red cape? That’s ridiculous.”
Kelly and Burt exchanged glances. The only way Sheila would know about the red cape was if she was the driver. Kelly had been scrupulously careful not to tell anyone else at Lambspun, and she was certain that Mimi hadn’t mentioned it, either. And Claudia certainly wouldn’t reveal details about her case. That would only add f
uel to the gossip fire.
Burt ran his finger around the edge of his coffee mug. “How did you know the hit-and-run driver wore a red cape?”
Sheila darted a glance his way, then back to her coffee. “I heard it here at the shop. Everyone’s been gossiping about this murder since it happened.”
Burt took a sip of coffee. “I don’t think that particular piece of information was released by the police.”
“Well, it got out anyway. Because I’m certain I heard it around the table.” She gestured toward the shop. “Apparently some guy was driving by and saw Claudia in that red cape.”
Kelly’s pulse raced. The passing motorist was also part of the information police had kept from the public. Once again, wily, scheming Sheila had tripped herself up. Tangled in her own lies.
A man stepped from the shop into the hallway beside the café, a uniformed police officer behind him. Kelly recognized Burt’s old partner, Dan. She looked at Sheila and decided to give her just another little nudge.
“You really hate Claudia, don’t you, Sheila?” Kelly barbed.
Sheila shot her a glare. “Of course I do. She’s an evil, wicked woman. Who’s gotten away with murder countless times. And I cannot believe the Fort Connor police are about to let her off again. What is the matter with them? Are they blind?”
“Well, you can ask them yourself,” Burt said, glancing over his shoulder as his old partner approached. “Sheila, this is Detective Dan Patterson of the Fort Connor Police Department.”
Sheila jerked around in her chair, clearly surprised. “Well, it’s about time the police showed up. I hope you’re here looking for Claudia Miller,” she snapped.
Kelly had to hand it to Sheila. Strike first. Best defense is a strong offense.
“You’re Sheila Miller?” Dan asked politely.
“Yes, I am, and I’ll be glad to tell you anything you’d like to know about Claudia Miller. She’s gotten away with murder three times already in other states, and you have no business letting her get away—”
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