A deadly yarn, p.8
A Deadly Yarn, page 8
Kelly stared at the portfolio. “Any idea how much income this lease could yield, Curt?”
He grinned and swung himself out of the chair. “Not until I see how much they’re offering you, Kelly. But you may be in for a surprise.”
“Boy, I could use a good surprise.”
“I’ll even work up some examples of the royalties from my old properties, years ago. That way, you can see some possible income options.”
“Great. I love options,” she said with a grin.
“There’s also another option,” Curt said as he headed for the door. “You could do absolutely nothing, like Martha and her husband did for all those years. It’ll be your choice, Kelly.”
Kelly shifted the plastic grocery bags and tried to dig her car keys from her pocket at the same time. A tricky maneuver, especially since she was also balancing a plastic-wrapped bouquet of flowers. Wrestling the car door open, she dumped all the purchases in the passenger seat and delicately placed the floral bundle on top.
The idea of taking flowers to Allison’s neighbor came to Kelly suddenly. It was a way of saying “thank you” for providing crucial information that the police might never have discovered. Flowers were a universal way of expressing thoughts that words alone could not.
Turning her car toward the streets on the western edge of town, Kelly headed for Allison’s apartment complex and parked near the corner. She hesitated a few moments beside the mailboxes, trying to decipher the name of the resident directly below Allison. The name appeared to be “Diane Linstrom.”
Kelly took a calming breath and knocked on the apartment door. Nothing at first, then she heard the metallic sound of a peephole sliding, then the door itself opened a few inches. A young woman peered out at Kelly, her face as pale as her short blonde hair.
“Diane Linstrom?” Kelly offered. “I checked your name on the mailbox. I’m a friend…I was a friend of Allison Dubois.” Sensing Diane’s apprehension, Kelly quickly added, “Megan and I went with Allison to Santa Fe last week. We all met at the knitting shop, Lambspun.”
Diane’s expression changed dramatically. “Oh, yes, yes. Allison told me about you,” she said, relief evident in her voice. Glancing around the open stairwell, she gestured. “Why don’t you come in. It’s more private.”
“I hope I didn’t disturb you,” Kelly said as she entered, noticing the aroma of lemon permeating the air.
“No, no, I’m a web designer, so I can juggle my hours any way I need. Please sit down. Would you like some coffee?”
When didn’t she like coffee? Kelly thought as she watched Diane head for the open apartment kitchen. She noticed Diane wore the same comfortable uniform that Kelly chose for at home computer work—sweats and a tee shirt. Even under the sweats, however, Kelly could tell that Diane was rail thin. The pronounced bone structure of her face, neck, and hands revealed more than the bulky clothes hid.
“That would be great,” Kelly said, then held out the flowers. “I brought these. It may sound weird, but I wanted to say thank you for talking to the police. Some neighbors wouldn’t, you know.”
Diane stared at Kelly from the kitchen, her surprise evident. “Who told you I talked to the police?” she asked, the fearful tone creeping back into her voice.
Adopting the most reassuring manner she possessed, Kelly tried to explain. “One of my friends is a retired police detective. Megan and I told him our concerns about Allison’s death when it happened. We couldn’t believe she’d kill herself. So, he made some inquiries for us and discovered that thanks to you, the police are taking another look.”
“I just told the police everything I know,” Diane answered quietly, pouring coffee into two colorful ceramic mugs.
Kelly surveyed Diane Linstrom’s apartment while the tantalizing coffee aroma drifted from the kitchen. An all-white sofa and black glass end tables lent a stark quality, while bold splashes of color hung from the wall on posters, paintings on canvas and wood, carved wooden heads, and a geometric black and white weaving which hung over a corner desk, which Kelly surmised was Diane’s work area.
“Thanks,” Kelly said as she took the proffered mug. “Ummm, smells good. I can tell you like your coffee strong.”
“The only civilized way to drink it.” Diane said as she took the flowers back to the kitchen. “Thanks for the flowers, Kelly.” She grabbed her coffee mug and settled on the matching white loveseat.
“You’re welcome. I wanted to say thank you and, I guess I also wanted the chance to talk about Allison,” Kelly admitted. “It’s hard to believe she’s dead. I mean, she was so vibrant and alive.”
Diane drew her legs beneath her on the sofa and cradled the mug in both hands. “I know. She was a fabulous and gifted artist. And a good friend. We were very close and could talk about anything.” Her voice drifted away. Pointing to the weaving, she added, “That’s her work.”
“I guessed as much,” Kelly said. “You know, I’m glad she had you to talk to, Diane, because Allison never told Megan and me much about her boyfriend. Except that he hadn’t paid the rent and she had to throw him out.”
“That was awful,” Diane said with a shudder. “Allison had to wait until he was out overnight playing with some band in Denver. Then she put all his stuff in boxes in the breezeway.” She pointed outside. “She stayed over here that night with me. When Ray came over the next morning, he saw everything outside, and he just lost it. Started yelling for Allison and banging on her door. She had to threaten to call the cops to get him to leave.” Diane’s pale face had grown paler with the telling. “I begged Allison to let me call the cops anyway, but she made me promise not to. She still felt sorry for him.” She screwed up her face in obvious disgust.
“What did he do when he discovered she sold his sound system?” Kelly pried, resting the mug on her knee.
Diane rolled her eyes. “Then it got worse. He started showing up and sitting outside in his car, waiting for her to come home. Then, he’d waylay Allison and start yelling. ‘That was mine! You didn’t have the right to sell it! You owe me that money!’ Stuff like that. Over and over.” She shivered again. “Then he’d leave ugly notes on her door, threatening her. Saying she’d better pay him the money or else.”
Kelly leaned forward. “Or else what? What do you think he meant?”
“That’s what always scared me about Ray. You didn’t know what he’d do. He’d get this look in his eyes that was part druggie and part shrewd. I tried to convince Allison that he was dangerous, but she refused to believe me. She was convinced that Ray had simply gotten in with the wrong crowd. He was really a nice guy.” She gave a disgusted snort. “Maybe he was nice once, but I never saw it. He gave me a bad feeling the first time I met him last year, and he was only doing half the drugs he is now.”
“Really heavy user?”
“Oh, yeah.” Diane nodded.
“Sounds like his whole personality changed.”
“Well, I didn’t think he had much personality to begin with, but Allison must have seen something in him.” Diane stared into her cup.
Kelly pondered her next question. “Do you think Ray could have killed Allison?”
Diane looked her straight in the eye. “Absolutely. There was a calculating streak in Ray that Allison never saw. He’d do little things to sabotage her, like spill soft drinks on a yarn she was using for a project or leave her car with no gas when she had to get to work. Crappy stuff like that.”
“Sounds like a weasel to me.”
“Yeah, and he was getting worse. He trashed Allison’s car two weeks ago. She’d had to park down the street near the playground where no one was around. Ray smashed the windows, slashed the tires, and totally trashed the interior. It’s a total wreck. Didn’t she tell you?”
“No, she never said a thing.” However, Kelly did remember a diary reference to Ray messing up her car. “I can’t believe Allison wouldn’t tell us. Are you sure it was Ray?”
Diane nodded. “Oh, yeah. He knew Allison wouldn’t report him, so he even left a note in the car, telling her to ‘watch out.’” She enunciated the words dramatically.
“Whoa,” Kelly said, a more menacing image of Ray Baker forming in her mind. “That is scary. I can’t believe Allison wouldn’t take the threat seriously.”
“I always got the feeling that if Ray ever did explode, it would be bad. Real bad.”
Kelly leaned back in the soft sofa and pondered her next question. “Did Ray come over that night? Did you hear anything?”
Diane nodded. “I sure did. He came stomping up the stairs. I checked and saw his beat-up Toyota outside so I knew it was him. Plus, when you live below people for a while, you learn to recognize their footsteps. It was him in the apartment that night.”
“Did he yell and threaten Allison?”
She shook her head. “No. That’s what surprised me. I didn’t hear any raised voices at all. And I have to say, that made me suspicious.”
“What do you mean?” Kelly pried.
Diane stared out into her immaculate living room. Kelly got the feeling that everything was in precisely the right place. There was no way she’d ever be able to have a room like this. Not with big, scruffy old Carl galumphing about, rubbing his head against the sofa. Multi-colored, heavy-duty upholstery worked best for big dogs.
“I think Ray came back with those sleeping pills and coffee. And I told the police that, too. I mean, Ray was the one who supplied Allison with sleeping pills. The doctors stopped prescribing for her long ago. And he knew she loved those special coffees, too. You know, the sweet caramel ones.” Diane gave a dismissive wave.
Kelly’s ears perked up. “Really? Megan and I noticed there was a takeout coffee cup lying on the floor.”
“Ray must have brought it with him, because Allison didn’t leave the apartment after she returned from the university dinner.”
“Maybe she bought the coffee herself on the way home.”
Diane shook her head. “Nope. She came right to my place to say goodbye. The only things she had in her hands were her purse and a small trophy from some local weavers.”
“Hmmmm,” Kelly said, deliberately pondering out loud so Diane would join in.
“So, you see? Ray had to be the one.”
“And you’re sure that Allison never left the apartment after she returned?”
“Positive.” Diane gave an emphatic nod. “That’s why she came to say goodbye, because she was going to be up late packing, and she didn’t want to miss me in the morning. She knows I work late at night and sleep in.”
Another question suddenly walked in the back door of Kelly’s brain. “Did anyone else visit Allison that night?”
Diane sipped her coffee then nodded. “Yes, a tall brunette came over about an hour after I heard Ray leave. I was on the stairs taking the trash out, when this girl comes hurrying past me on the steps and knocks on Allison’s door. And she was wasn’t carrying anything in her hands at all. Not even a purse.”
“Did you recognize her as one of Allison’s friends?”
“Nope. Not at all, but Allison knew her because she called her by name. She sounded kind of surprised, too.”
“How so?”
“Well, it was the tone of Allison’s voice when she said, ‘Kimberly.’ Like she wasn’t expecting her.”
Kimberly Gorman. It had to be. Considering the competitive relationship that existed between the two designers, Kelly wondered what could have brought Kimberly Gorman to Allison’s door the night before she was to leave for New York.
“Did you hear anything else that was said?” Kelly probed.
“No, they went inside. I didn’t hear any loud voices, if that’s what you mean. They didn’t even walk around much. She only stayed a few minutes, too, because I heard the door close and footsteps coming down the stairs.”
“Did you hear Allison walking around afterwards?”
“Oh, yeah. Like I said, she still had lots of sorting to do. She was making trips back and forth to the Dumpster all evening, throwing out trash.” Diane settled back into her alabaster sofa and brushed a stray lock of pale hair off her forehead.
Diane’s hair was so blonde, it was nearly white, accentuating her never-seen-the-sun-complexion. With all her years of running and outside sports, Kelly figured she must be wrinkled already but simply hadn’t had the time to notice yet. She’d once heard that wrinkles hide until forty, then they pop out all at once.
Something Diane said niggled at her. “You know, that makes me wonder,” Kelly mused out loud. “If Ray Baker had poisoned Allison earlier, then how could she be running back and forth to the Dumpster? Wouldn’t those sleeping pills have put her out?”
Diane shrugged. “Who knows? Allison had abused those pills for so long, maybe she’d built up a tolerance or something. Maybe it took longer for them to kick in.”
Maybe, Kelly thought. And maybe it wasn’t Ray who put the pills in her coffee. Could Kimberly have hated Allison so much she’d poison her right before Allison was about to get her big break?
That thought lasted about ten seconds before it nose-dived into the image of a drug-laced caramel coffee. It was highly unlikely that Kimberly Gorman would be running around Fort Connor with a pocketful of sleeping pills and murderous intent. Just because she was insanely jealous of Allison’s success, didn’t mean Kimberly was insane.
“How long would you guess you heard Allison moving around upstairs after Kimberly left?”
“Oh, at least another couple of hours or so. I was working and remember hearing her upstairs.”
Kelly hunched over her coffee. “You know, that doesn’t make sense, Diane. Those pills surely would have kicked in after a while. If someone drank coffee that was loaded with barbiturates, they wouldn’t be able to run up and down the stairs for very long.”
Diane stared out into the living room. “Unless someone came back,” she said quietly. “I heard another set of footsteps on the stairs later that night. And I heard Allison’s door opening and closing, too. I looked outside and saw a dark car parked across the street. I’d never seen that car parked around here before, and I know all my neighbors’ cars.”
Kelly looked up. “You think she had a late night visitor?”
Diane nodded and kept staring at the floor. “I couldn’t hear any voices, but I heard different footsteps walking around as well as Allison’s.”
“But no voices?”
“No, just walking for a while, then nothing.”
Kelly felt the hair on the back of her neck rise. “Nothing?” she repeated. “When did the person leave?”
“That’s the strange thing. I never heard anyone leave. In fact, when I finally went to bed after midnight, I looked outside because I was curious. That dark car was still parked on the other side of the street, and it was still there at three fifteen in the morning. I’d gotten up for a drink of water and looked outside. There it was.” She gave Kelly a sober look.
“Did you tell the police all of this?”
“You bet I did,” she said with conviction. “And I told them who I thought it was, too.”
That took Kelly by surprise. “Who?”
“Ray Baker. I think he sneaked back here and slipped the pills in Allison’s coffee when it was late at night. He probably borrowed someone’s car, too, so no one would know it was him.”
Kelly stared at Diane. Clearly, Diane Linstrom had already convicted Ray Baker in her mind. But was the weasely Ray capable of such conniving details and actions? Or was he out getting high with his friends? Kelly rather suspected the latter, judging from Ray Baker’s past behavior.
“Do you really think Ray was capable of being that stealthy and clever? He sounds like he’s destroyed too many of his brain cells to be that conniving.”
“Ohhhh, no,” Diane fixed Kelly with a laser-like stare. “Ray was shrewd and clever when he wanted to be. And I told the police that, too.”
“But why would he come back a second time?”
Diane’s eyes narrowed. “I think he came the first time to get money from Allison. When she didn’t give him any, he came back later. And that’s when he brought the coffee. Out of revenge.” She enunciated the last word.
Kelly let everything Diane said settle in. Diane’s obvious bias against Ray Baker aside, the scene she’d painted was entirely plausible. It certainly made much more sense. According to Diane, the noise upstairs stopped about midnight after the late night visitor.
Had Ray Baker really come back that night in a borrowed car to kill his former girlfriend who’d spurned him? Others had killed for less, Kelly knew sadly. It had gotten so she hated to listen to the news. Some people found it far too easy to rationalize murder. A slight chill rippled through her, and Kelly rubbed her arm.
“Brother, that’s one horrible picture you’ve painted, Diane. You told the police all of this, I hope.”
“You bet. I want that bastard to go to jail for what he did. Allison was worth a thousand Ray Bakers, and he just snuffed her out like a cigarette.”
Kelly shivered, whether from the image of Ray Baker’s cruelty or Diane Linstrom’s hatred of him. “Thank goodness, you were here, Diane,” she said as she rose to leave. “If not for you, the police would have nothing to go on to investigate this guy.”
“Believe me, Kelly, I was happy to help,” Diane said as she accompanied Kelly to the door.
Pausing on the threshold, Kelly sent Diane a grateful smile. “You’ve been really thoughtful to share so much with me, Diane. I’ll make sure and tell Megan. She’ll feel much better knowing the police have a solid lead.”
“It actually felt good to get that off my chest, Kelly,” Diane admitted. “Stay in touch, would you? I’d particularly like to know if the police learn anything new, okay?”
“Will do. Take care, Diane, and thanks again,” Kelly said and gave a quick wave as she hastened to her car.
Eight
