A deadly yarn, p.21
A Deadly Yarn, page 21
Ahhhh, the safety of softball. Kelly jumped in without missing a beat. “And you play us on Sunday. So look out.”
Steve fixed her with a wicked grin. “You guys don’t worry us. It’s Greeley that’s out for our blood.”
Kelly snatched up the gauntlet, feigning offense. “We don’t worry you? Whoa, listen to that.” She fixed him with a playful scowl. “Any more of that talk, and I’ll go join Agnes over there.” She gestured to the philandering cow elk across the road, grazing contentedly in Charlie’s harem.
Steve chuckled. “Okay, I guess I’ll have that dessert all to myself then.”
Dessert? Kelly didn’t remember any mention of dessert. She eyed Steve skeptically. “You didn’t say anything about bringing dessert.”
“I’m a man of surprises.”
He was that, Kelly had to admit. “Okay, we’ll take up this discussion again after practice some night when I have reinforcements,” she bargained. “Now, what kind of dessert are we talking about here? If it’s a package of Twinkies, I’m definitely going across the road with Agnes.”
“It’s a chocolate raspberry torte from Babette’s bakery,” Steve tempted.
Kelly’s mouth started to water. Still, she hesitated, hating to sell out for chocolate. Even chocolate with raspberries. “Hmmmmm,” she deliberately stalled.
“Don’t forget the coffee.”
Rats. She’d forgotten the coffee. That did it. Team honor was one thing, but principles were another. And first among Kelly’s principles was Allegiance to Caffeine. Agnes could keep Charlie and the grass.
She grinned across at Steve. “You get the cake. I’ll get the coffee.”
Seventeen
Jayleen reached over her corral fence and beckoned to a smoke-gray alpaca nearby. “You want some attention, don’t you, little one?” she cajoled. The young male eagerly thrust out his face for a nose rub, and Jayleen obliged as she looked up at Kelly. “Thanks for bringing those reports out here,” she gestured to the bound portfolio in Kelly’s hand. “I could have gotten them.”
“No problem, Jayleen. I’ve been stuck at home in front of the computer for the past week finishing up my corporate accounts. Believe me, I needed an excuse to get away and take a drive into the foothills.”
“Have you told your boss yet that you’re quitting?” Jayleen asked as she gave the alpaca a final pat and turned toward the house.
Kelly fell into step beside her, the late October breeze whipping her linen shirt. “I called him last week and promised to wrap up everything and have it into the Washington office by next week. So, I basically gave him two weeks notice.”
“What’d he say? Was he angry or anything?”
“No, as a matter of fact, I sensed he was relieved.” Kelly paused at the edge of Jayleen’s front porch and clasped the portfolio of financial statements to her chest as she stared off into the foothills. The early afternoon sun was angling toward the canyon. A red-tailed hawk cruised atop the air currents for a moment then swooped toward the ridge top, hunting. “I had suspected he was loading on the work in hopes I’d either quit or return to Washington like a proper corporate CPA. Suit up and show up at the office.” She smiled wryly. “So, I think my reason for quitting surprised him.
Jayleen hooted. “Lord, girl, you didn’t tell him you were leaving to count alpaca, did you?”
Kelly laughed as she traced another hawk’s flight against the yellow-brown background of cottonwood trees that bordered Jayleen’s property. Late October’s chill had stripped most of the trees already, especially in the mountains. The higher up, the colder the nights. Kelly had noticed Autumn’s handiwork in the glistening pockets of early morning frost she glimpsed along the roadside. Winter was coming on fast.
“No, I avoided all mention of alpaca,” she joked. “I told him I’d inherited a large property in Wyoming, which happened to contain natural gas, and I needed time to manage it properly. Oh, and I did mention that various consulting opportunities had also come my way.” She winked.
“Good girl,” Jayleen said, shoving her hands in her back pockets. “Make him sorry to lose you.”
“I have to admit it felt good when I said I was quitting.” Handing over the portfolio, Kelly added, “And it felt really good to finish these for you, Jayleen. The final numbers are even better than we talked about last week. You’re in good financial shape.”
Jayleen stared warily at the legal-sized black vinyl portfolio, as if it might bite. “Lord, you don’t know how strange that sounds, Kelly. I’ve spent my entire life scrabbling around the edges. Working hard but never really getting anywhere. I still can’t believe things are finally beginning to happen.”
“Believe it, Jayleen,” Kelly reassured with a grin. “The bank will take one look at these and happily lend you the money for Vickie’s ranch. And if not, you let me know. I’ll go talk to them myself,” she promised as she turned toward the driveway and her parked car.
Jayleen followed after. Pointing to a real estate sign at the edge of her land which bordered the road, she said, “Jennifer was out yesterday with the listing contract. I sure hope it sells quick, because I’m not crazy about having strangers traipse through my house.”
“I understand how you feel. I’m sure I won’t like strangers prowling through Martha’s house either, and I don’t even live there.” Kelly slipped into the car seat and started the engine.
“I kept my mouth shut about your wanting to sell that place,” Jayleen added. “After all, you and I were just bouncing ideas when we talked. I figured you’d tell the others when you were ready.”
“I appreciate that, Jayleen. I’ve been so busy this past week, I haven’t had time to even think about Geri’s place. Once I get those last accounts off my desk, I’ll ask Jennifer to explain the foreclosure process. She’ll walk me through it.”
“Just like I’ll walk you through those alpaca accounts when you’re ready,” Jayleen reminded her with a good-natured smile.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten,” Kelly said with a goodbye wave as she drove down the gravel drive.
Turning onto the paved road, Kelly headed back into Fort Connor, her mind busily sorting through and rearranging items in her mental daytimer. The jangle of her cell phone interrupted.
“Kelly, here.”
“Kelly, this is Sophia Emeraud. I wanted to call and update you on the design competition.”
Kelly mentally smacked her forehead. She’d totally forgotten about the upcoming award in Allison’s honor. Had two weeks passed since she’d spoken with Sophia? Wow. She had been busy.
“Thanks, Sophia, I appreciate your calling. I can’t believe it’s almost time for the award.”
“That’s right. I’ll be flying in next Tuesday. Professor Jaeger has the award presentation set up for Wednesday night at the university,” Sophia said.
“Did you get many submissions?”
“Boy, did I! Kelly, I had nearly forty submissions, can you believe that? Think how many we would have had if we’d had more time to promote the competition. Word must have spread around the area art groups like wildfire.”
“That’s amazing,” Kelly exclaimed. “I’m so excited. This is exactly what Allison would have wanted.”
Sophia’s voice softened. “I agree. Somehow it’s helped me handle Allison’s death.”
Kelly understood what Sophia meant. Somehow a living memory helped. She wheeled the car around a corner. “I’m curious. Did that Denver artist, Brian Silverstone, enter the competition? Or, did he refuse to submit with less experienced artists?”
Sophia chuckled. “Actually, he did submit a design. I have to admit, Kelly, his work was quite striking. Amazingly similar to Allison’s.”
I’ll bet it was, Kelly thought, frowning in the car. Wait until Sophia sees Allison’s portfolio drawings. Then the “amazing similarity” will be made clear.
“That’s interesting,” Kelly replied. “How was it similar to Allison’s work? I’m curious.”
“Ohhhhh, the drape of the sweater neck, for instance,” Sophia answered. “Particularly the use of loose knitted yarns and ribbons threading through the design. And even some marvelous beadwork. Truly striking. He will most definitely place in the finals. I’m not sure yet which one will be the winner. There’re two others who’ve submitted really original pieces. One is quite dramatic in its use of color.”
“Beadwork?” Kelly repeated, the little buzzer in the back of her brain going off. “What kind of beadwork?”
“Well, the beads were woven in separately along with the yarn and ribbon. He created a very distinctive look, I must say.”
“I’m sure he did,” Kelly agreed, picturing the design exactly. After all, she’d watched Allison describe how she planned to use the beads in her next design for Sophia. Woven through the draping neckline along with the lacy yarn and ribbon.
That bastard. Brian Silverstone blatantly stole Allison’s design, knowing that was the only way he could attract Sophia Emeraud’s interest.
“What color were the beads?” she asked Sophia. “Were they colorful?”
“Actually, no. They appeared to be bone and were carved with interesting designs. Very likely Native American.”
This time, Kelly’s buzzer vibrated inside her. Those beads sounded exactly like the ones Allison found in Santa Fe. Son of a…sailor, Kelly fumed, invoking one of her dad’s sanitized Navy curses.
There was only one way Brian Silverstone could have gotten those beads. He went to Allison’s apartment that night after the banquet. Brian was the late-night visitor who crept up the stairs. And it must have been his dark car parked outside on the street that Allison’s neighbor noticed.
“Why so interested in the beads, Kelly?”
“Oh, I’m simply curious. Allison showed Megan and me some beads she bought in Santa Fe that sound very similar to those.”
Sophia’s voice dropped. “Kelly, there’s something you’re not saying, I can tell. What is it?”
“Right now I don’t know anything, Sophia. All I have is a whole lot of suspicions, that’s all,” Kelly admitted. “Perhaps I’m still too close to Allison’s death. Maybe I’m seeing shadows. I don’t know.”
“Promise you’ll tell me if you learn anything new, all right?” Sophia bargained.
“I promise, Sophia. Meanwhile, go back to being the brilliant designer and judge of talent that you are. Award the prizes and call me when you arrive in Fort Connor, okay?”
“Okay, Kelly. I’ll talk to you next week. Bye.” Sophia’s phone clicked off.
Kelly pulled into the parking spot in front of her cottage and exited the car, her mind spinning at warp speed. Suspicions. That’s all she had. Nothing more. Beadwork and designs. Scary phone messages. They all proved nothing. Even Ray Baker’s hint that the police should look in Denver for Allison’s killer meant nothing. After all, Baker was the chief suspect. He’d say anything to deflect police scrutiny, wouldn’t he?
Carl came running to the fence to greet her. Kelly leaned over and rubbed his shiny black Rottweiler head. Carl slurped her wrist with six inches of pink tongue. Kelly was so lost in thought, she forgot that it tickled.
Police. She needed something the police would pay attention to. Even Burt would laugh at what she had right now. Think what Lieutenant Morrison would say. Recalling Morrison’s dour and dismissive demeanor, Kelly didn’t want to be in that situation.
She dug into her pocket for her cell phone and dialed Burt’s number. No harm in picking Burt’s brain. Who knows? The police may have learned something new. Maybe she was completely wrong. Maybe…
“Hey, Kelly, you must have been reading my mind,” Burt’s friendly voice came on the line. “I was about to call you.”
“Really?” Kelly perked up. “Did you find more evidence? Did Baker confess or something?”
Burt sighed. “No, I wish it were that simple. In fact, they’re having to take another look at everything.”
Kelly’s pulse quickened. “What’s happened?”
“Baker’s prints finally arrived from Tennessee, and they don’t match the print on the coffee cup,” he said. Kelly could tell from the tone in his voice that Burt was definitely disappointed.
“Whoa,” Kelly said softly. “Does that mean that Ray Baker is no longer suspect number one?”
“Well, not exactly,” Burt hedged. “The print could always be from the clerk in the coffee shop, you know, the bar—whatever.”
Kelly chuckled. “Barista.”
“Yeah, whatever that is,” he continued. “Anyway, Baker could always have worn gloves. I mean, he probably would have thought out the entire murder, including wearing gloves.”
Pondering that for a moment, Kelly couldn’t resist saying, “That’s a stretch, Burt. Baker still doesn’t impress me as someone who’d plan out a murder in all that detail. This crime required a really devious mind.”
“Well, he’s shown himself to be pretty devious,” Burt countered.
Kelly let it drop. Once again, a crazy idea was forming in the back of her mind. Talking with Burt had stimulated her thinking, that’s for sure. And stimulated her into sticking her nose in police business again, despite Burt’s admonitions not to.
“Have your partner and his colleagues ever seriously considered anyone else as Allison’s killer?” she probed.
“Now, Kelly, you know I can’t answer that,” Burt scolded gently.
She knew it. She just needed a way to maneuver into her next question. “Tell me, Burt. Do you know if the department has camera surveillance around the various playgrounds around town? You know, to help decrease vandalism.”
Burt paused. “What are you getting at, Kelly? I know you’re going somewhere with this. You’re not really interested in playground vandalism.”
“You’re right. I was wondering if you guys had ever checked to see if there were some photos taken of the cars parked outside Allison’s apartment that night. If you remember, Allison’s observant and reliable neighbor said there was an unfamiliar dark car parked across the street from the apartment building practically all night. It didn’t leave until early in the morning, according to her.”
“May I ask how come you know all these details about the neighbor’s comments?”
Kelly took a deep breath. “Because I spoke with her, too.”
“Kelly, what have I told you about getting into this?”
“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, Burt,” she replied cheerfully. “I was curious about the comment that she’d heard someone come in late at night. Anyway, she told me all about the unfamiliar dark car staying way late that night.”
“We already knew about that, Kelly.”
“Well, I was simply curious. After all, if those playgrounds have cameras, maybe they caught a glimpse of that dark car and the license plate. You know me, Burt. When I get an idea, I have to run with it.”
“That’s what scares me. What other ideas do you have bumping around in your mind?”
Burt, you don’t want to know, Kelly thought. “Don’t worry, Burt. I’ve got to get back on the computer. Finishing up the CPA stuff,” she reassured as she headed into her cottage. Carl had already returned to chasing squirrels.
“You do that, Kelly,” Burt advised. “And stay out of trouble, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” she lied before she clicked off her phone. She’d better do her best, because Kelly knew she wouldn’t get a second chance.
Eighteen
Kelly paused briefly before she knocked on Diane Linstrom’s apartment door, hoping the website designer was true to her word and always at home. No answer, and no sound at all for a full minute. Kelly forced herself to count before knocking again.
Then the metallic click of door locks sounded, and the door partially opened. Diane Linstrom peered around the wood and stared out at Kelly, surprise and recognition in her pale eyes.
“Kelly, it’s good to see you. Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, Diane,” Kelly reassured. “I just came by to see how you were doing and to ask you a couple of questions.”
At the word “questions,” Diane’s eyes popped even wider and she held the door open. “Oh, sure, of course. Come on in, Kelly.”
Kelly sniffed the aroma of cinnamon and cloves perfuming the air and wondered if Diane were a secret baker or simply enjoyed scented candles. Observing Diane Linstrom’s skinny frame as she led the way into her immaculate-and-barely-touched living room, Kelly was betting on the candles.
“Coffee?” Diane asked, pausing at the entry to the kitchen.
“I’d love to, Diane, but I’ve got a boatload of errands that I’ve got to run this afternoon, so I won’t be able to stay.” She made an offhand gesture. “Actually, two things brought me here. First, I wanted to tell you that the New York designer, Sophia Emeraud, will be here Wednesday night to present a design award in Allison’s honor. There’s a small ceremony at the university at seven if you’d like to attend.”
Diane’s pale face flushed with obvious pleasure at being included. “What a wonderful way to remember Allison,” she said softly. “Thank you so much, Kelly, for inviting me. I’ll think about it.”
“I thought you might enjoy seeing Allison remembered in this way. Sophia’s going to make the competition an annual event. And the winner gets to work in her studio for six months. Exactly like Allison was planning to do.”
This time, tears glistened in Diane’s eyes, then trickled down her face. “That’s…that’s wonderful. And so…so sad at the same time.” She blinked then grabbed for a nearby napkin.
Kelly waited for Diane to wipe her eyes then added, “Give me a call if you decide to come, and I’ll tell you which banquet room at the university. I won’t know until tomorrow.”
Diane nodded wetly, so Kelly continued.
“I also wanted to ask you a question, Diane. You’ve got this fantastic memory. Even my friend who’s the retired cop is impressed with the level of detail you could recall about the night of Allison’s death.”
