A Killer Stitch (6 page)

“I trust your judgment implicitly, Curt. Whatever you think best. I certainly won't be needing a lot of cash right away like before.”

“Well, I figure it's only a matter of time before you find another canyon place that tickles your fancy. Who knows? You may find someplace this spring. And in case you find a place sooner, we'll proceed with our original plan.”

“With the private investors, right?”

Curt nodded. “That way, you'll have time to sell the ranch and herd for a good price.”

“Well, it's certainly an option, but I don't think I'll even be looking until the springtime, Curt. Meanwhile, Jennifer plans to keep an eagle eye on the mountain listings, just in case.”

“Hey, looky here,” Jayleen's voice called out from the adjoining room. She strode toward them, boots tapping a quick staccato. “I was hoping to see you folks.”

“How're the plans for the children's party going?” Kelly greeted her, noticing snowflakes on Jayleen's denim jacket. She glanced outside. Tiny flakes drifted down. Tennis would be chilly tonight. Hopefully she and Steve would lose quickly to Megan and her partner, so they could head to dinner to warm up.

Jayleen tossed her cowboy hat to the table, grabbed a chair, and straddled it backward all in one smooth movement. “Well, if I can get a few more volunteers, I'll feel much better. That's why I came here. I figured I could snag some folks who'd like to help out with the kids.”

“What are you up to, Jayleen?” Curt asked.

“Oh, I stepped in at the last minute to help run a Christmas party for kids run by a local charity. And now I'm running around like a chicken with its head cut off. I barely have time to get my work done at the ranch. God knows when I'll ever be able to clear out all those packing boxes from my house. I may have to carry them to the barn, so we'll have room for the party.”

“We can help with that, Jayleen,” Kelly offered. “I'll get Megan and Lisa and Jennifer to come along early. We can help you clean up beforehand.”

“I've got a better idea. Why don't you leave those boxes be and bring those kids and everyone else out to my ranch?” Curt suggested. “I've got more space than I know what to do with.”

“Lord, Curt, we couldn't impose like that,” Jayleen objected. “I was hoping you'd help with the kids. No need to go to all that trouble.”

“No trouble at all, Jayleen,” Curt said with a lazy grin. “I miss having folks over. Only one thing—my grandkids have to come along, too.”

“Hell, yes,” Jayleen exclaimed. “Bring 'em along. But are you sure you want a whole passel of kids runnin' around your place? Now, me, I don't have much they can mess up, but your house is all neat and tidy.”

“And too damn quiet,” Curt said. “I'm rattling around there like a bean in a can. I'd welcome the commotion. Truth be told, the place is feeling pretty empty, especially with the holiday coming and all. By now, Ruthie would have the house all decorated. Hell, I may not even put up a tree this year.”

“Now hold on, we can't have that kinda talk,” Jayleen scolded. “Tell you what we'll do. You buy the tree, and we'll all come out early to decorate. The kids won't be coming until two o'clock.”

“Hey, that's a great idea,” Kelly joined in. “We can take over Curt's kitchen and make brunch. If we have food, we'll get more helpers. Then we'll decorate Curt's entire house before the kids show up.”

“You don't have to do that, Kelly,” Curt protested.

Kelly gave him a big grin. “Are you kidding? It'll be a lot of fun, and, to quote your words, ‘it'll be no trouble at all.'”

“It's
really coming down now,” Steve said, pointing through the windows at the falling snow.

Kelly sipped her vodka martini and watched the snowstorm from their cozy corner booth in the Jazz Bistro's lounge. Enticing rhythms pulsed through the air from the trio across the room. “I'm glad we've got that big, badass truck of yours to drive home tonight,” she said. “I'm also glad Megan and Sam worked us over quickly so we could have dinner.”

Steve chuckled and settled back into the curved cushioned leather, resting his arm above Kelly's shoulders. “They were merciful, that's for sure. But we're getting better, too, don't you think?” He took a sip of his drink.

“There was only one way for us to go, and that's up.” She nibbled a slice of baked Brie with raspberry sauce drizzled over it.

“You sound like you're feeling better. Yesterday when you called me, you were pretty low.”

Kelly gave a little shrug, then sipped her martini. “I'm all right now. It was just so frustrating to lose that great property a second time. But I was outbid, simple as that.”

“Any idea who got the place?”

“Jennifer said some woman from the Midwest bought it for her retirement dream home. Apparently she's coming out this week to talk with builders and stuff.” She eyed him over the top of her glass. “You want to audition for the job? Jennifer heard she's got money to burn.”

“Naw, not interested,” Steve said, leaning closer. “The only canyon house I'd be willing to build would be yours.”

Kelly looked into Steve's warm gaze. “Really? You'd build a mountain house for me?”

“Sure I would. In fact, I wouldn't want anyone else building it,” he said, laughing softly.

“Steve, you can't take time from all your building sites to drive up into the canyon every day. You're about to begin a new project in Old Town, for heaven's sake,” Kelly reminded him.

“Let me worry about that. Besides, I may be getting some help. I'm seriously thinking about hiring a supervisor for the housing sites, someone with experience I could trust, so I could free up the time to get this loft project developed.”

Kelly gave him a sly smile. “You? Are you sure you could hand over control to someone else? I'll believe that when I see it.”

“Spoken by the Queen of Control Freaks, right?”

“It takes one to know one.” She laughed softly, relaxing into the moment.

“I'll make you a promise, Kelly,” he said, so close to her face she could feel his warm breath. “You find the land, and I'll build your dream house.”

Jazz rhythms swirled in the air around them, like the snowflakes flurrying outside. She smiled into Steve's eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he whispered, then leaned forward and kissed her, lingering just long enough before he drew back.

Nice. Very, very nice.
And warm. Kelly wondered if Jennifer had any spies in the lounge tonight. Lifting her martini glass, she glanced around the crowded room and noticed the jazz pianist, Mark, grinning at her. She could swear he gave her a wink.

“I saw Mark grinning at us. Maybe he's one of Jennifer's spies,” she teased.

“Not a chance. Mark's a jazzman. He simply appreciates good timing,” Steve said, giving her a wink of his own.

Together they lifted their glasses toward the piano as very, very good jazz wrapped around them.

“They've
got a head start, Carl. You'll never catch them,” Kelly said as she slid the patio door open.

Carl bounded outside into the snow, barking furiously as he raced toward the parade of squirrels trooping along the fence. The squirrels, of course, were as fleet-footed as usual, so even Carl's enthusiastic shaking of the chain-link as he jumped against it couldn't thwart their escape. One by one, they reached the corner post, where they skittered and hopped through the snow and up the adjacent cottonwood tree. Kelly could have sworn the last squirrel deliberately shook his rear end at Carl, tail up, taunting.

“I think that last squirrel mooned you, Carl,” Kelly called to her barking dog. Undaunted and oblivious to insult, Carl stood, paws up on the fence, barking doggie threats into the snow-laden branches above. Each bark created little clouds of frozen dog breath in the icy air.

Leaving Carl to his wintry patrol of the backyard, Kelly escaped the cold and refilled her coffee mug before she returned to her desk and accounts. She clicked on the computer screen and entered additional figures, moving quickly through the spreadsheet. A snowy, cold day was perfect for holing up and digging into her accounts. If she kept at it, she'd have these clients finished by midafternoon.

The sound of her cell phone interrupted. “Kelly here,” she answered automatically, continuing to cruise the spreadsheet.

“Hey, Kelly, have you got a minute?” Jennifer's voice came through.

Kelly stopped her calculations and focused her attention. “What's up, Jen? You sound upset.”

“Well, you would be, too, if you'd just been interviewed by the police.”

“What? Just now?” Kelly quickly set her mug on the desk.

“Yes, Lieutenant Peterson came to the café this morning and asked to speak with me. I've gotta admit, that spooked the living hell out of me, Kelly.”

Concerned, Kelly hunched over the little phone. “I can imagine. It would scare me, too. What did Peterson ask about? Derek and Diane and…and all that?”

“Ohhhh, yeah.” Jennifer exhaled a long, audible sigh. “Believe me, Kelly, Peterson knows all about Diane and Derek and her going up to Derek's place that night. He said he'd talked to all the regulars at the bar, and they gave him an earful.” She snorted. “Of course they told him all about Diane and Derek's ‘tempestuous relationship,' as he called it. Their fights, their breakups, their reconciliations. And he heard lots about Diane's partying and drinking habits.”

“So he wanted to hear your version, is that it?” Kelly probed.

“Yes, and he wanted to know more about Diane herself, since everyone had told him I was her closest friend.” Jennifer paused for a second. “So I told Peterson about the two of them. Why they fought so much, the crappy way Derek treated Diane, swearing he loved her, then dumping her whenever a new girl came along, then jerking her back, over and over, and Diane sinking lower and lower each time.” She exhaled a long sigh.

Kelly waited for her to continue, and when she didn't, Kelly interjected quietly, “You had to tell the truth, Jen. Peterson already knew it. He was simply looking for confirmation from someone he knew to be trustworthy. You.”

“Me?” Jennnifer sounded startled.

“Yes, you,” Kelly repeated. “Peterson met you last summer, Jennifer, and he knew you to be a credible, reliable witness and observer. That's worth more to a detective than the gossip of barflies.”

Jennifer's chuckle sounded over the line. “Did you learn that from Burt?”

“Yeah, it's part of my junior detective training.”

Jennifer sighed. “You know, Peterson said something to me after the interview that was kind of funny. He smiled and asked if he could give me some ‘fatherly advice.'”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope, honest. So I said, sure. I mean, what else would you say to a cop, right? Then he looks me right in the eye and tells me he thinks I'm much too smart a girl to be hanging out with that bar crowd. His advice was to ‘cut them loose before they drag you down.'”

Kelly caught her breath.
Way to go, Lieutenant Peterson!
She'd been wanting to say that to Jennifer for months. “Sounds like good advice to me, Jen. Peterson's got a good eye. Besides, everyone can use fatherly advice.”

Jennifer laughed softly. “Are you kidding? What with Burt in the shop and Curt Stackhouse watching over us, we've got fatherly advice coming out the ying-yang.”

“So,
you knew about Mimi and Burt?” Kelly asked, leaning closer to Lisa as they sat knitting beside the library table.

Lisa glanced at the various knitters who flanked them, chattering away as they knitted, then spoke in a low voice. “Yeah, Greg and I spotted them at a restaurant one night. They were sitting in a corner booth in the back, gazing at each other in the candlelight.” She grinned as her fingers worked their magic in the red and green wool. “It was so romantic. And cute.”

Kelly noticed another pair of mittens were nearing completion. Ahhhh, to be able to knit that fast and still be good, she thought enviously. “Wow, I hadn't noticed a thing. I wonder how long they've been dating,” she said, working another row of gray and white stitches in the alpaca wool scarf. She was making progress. Two and a half feet done. Only eighteen inches to go.

“From the way they were looking at each other, I figure they've been sneaking out behind our backs for a while now. And you didn't notice because you're oblivious to that sort of thing.”

“I am not,” Kelly protested. “I'm just as observant as you and Jennifer.”

“When you're off detecting clues and sleuthing, yeah,” Lisa teased. “But you're absolutely clueless when it comes to something romantic. You never see those looks Steve throws your way.”

Some of the knitters seated across the table turned their heads. One of them giggled, then quickly looked away. Kelly felt a slight flush creep up her cheeks. “Your imagination is on overload. You've been working too much, Lisa.”

“Everyone notices except you, Miss Workaholic,” Lisa zeroed in, with a wicked smile. “You've got to get your nose off that computer screen.”

Deciding diversion would be the best strategy in this instance, Kelly asked, “Tell me, how did Megan like the guy you and Greg fixed her up with? Was he nice? Did she retreat into her shell?”

Lisa's grin disappeared. “She liked him okay, I guess. He was nice and friendly and nonthreatening and acted really interested in her, but Megan shrank right into her shell like she always does. Blushing and responding in monosyllables.” She shook her head. “I don't know what we can do to help her, Kelly.”

“I don't think
we
can do anything, Lisa,” Kelly admitted with a sigh. “This is something Megan is going to have to conquer herself.”

“It's so painful to watch, though,” Lisa said. “She's such a great girl and she deserves someone in her life who appreciates how special she is.”

“I agree, and—”

Kelly broke off when she spotted Lucy come through the classroom doorway, Ellen close behind. They both found chairs at the end of the long table.

Lucy's dark hair was pulled into a long braid down her back, and Kelly noticed she looked wan and pale. Waiflike. Lucy kept her eyes downcast and didn't glance toward the others until she removed a butterscotch cream wool from her bag and began to knit. Only then did she lift her gaze.

Kelly gave Lucy an encouraging smile. “Welcome back, Lucy. It's good to see you again,” she said in a gentle voice.

The sound of soft greetings and condolences echoed around the table. For a moment, Lucy looked like she would bolt. Kelly detected a quiver of her lower lip. Once or twice, Ellen placed her hand on her friend's arm, clearly reassuring.

“Would you like some tea?” Kelly gestured to the pot in the middle of the table, surrounded by cookies and assorted edibles.

“No, thanks,” Lucy murmured, giving Kelly a small smile.

Lisa leaned forward. “Hi, Lucy, remember me, Lisa Gerrard? We were in the same group at the fitness center a couple of years ago.”

A spark of recognition flitted across Lucy's face. “Yes, yes, I do.” Again, her gaze dropped.

“I'm so glad you've started teaching classes here now,” Lisa continued. “I've heard wonderful things—”

The rest of Lisa's sentence was drowned out by the booming voice of Hilda von Steuben as she steamed into the knitting shop harbor. “Good morning, ladies,” Hilda said. “I see you're all busy at work on your holiday projects. I trust they are proceeding apace.” She unceremoniously plopped her knitting bag at the other end of the library table across from Ellen and Lucy.

Kelly couldn't resist. “If ‘apace' means struggling along as usual, then I am apacing.”

Lizzie drifted into the room next, darting into corners to check yarns and fibers like a sailboat skimming around a lake, checking the coves. Kelly waved her over and gestured for Lizzie to lean closer.

“What is it, dear?” Lizzie asked in a dramatic whisper as she bent beside Kelly's shoulder.

“This must be Lucy's first day back.” Kelly indicated the end of the table where Ellen was clearly trying to involve Lucy in a conversation. Lucy nodded instead of talking, Kelly noticed. “We've all welcomed her, but she still looks an inch away from crying. I was hoping you might take a few moments and send some of your motherly warmth Lucy's way. It looks like she needs it.”

Lizzie's bright blue eyes lit up as she smiled. “That's sweet of you to say, Kelly, but you know I've never been a mother. So I doubt I'd be much help.”

“I've seen you in action, Lizzie. You're a natural mom.” Kelly winked.

Clearly flattered by Kelly's words, Lizzie patted her on the shoulder. “I'll do my best, dear.” She moved a chair beside Lucy and settled, withdrawing the frothy white baby blanket she was working on, all the while smiling and chatting gaily beside Ellen and Lucy.

Lisa glanced at her watch, then shoved the mittens into her bag. “I've got a client in half an hour, so I'd better leave.”

She pushed back her chair and was clearly about to leave when Kelly leaned toward her. “Before you go, tell me how you know Lucy. You mentioned that the two of you were in a class together at the fitness center. Were you teaching an exercise class or something?”

Lisa set her bag in the middle of her lap and leaned on it, glancing across the table at Lucy. “Or something. It was a little more complicated than that. Two years ago I was assisting a counselor with group therapy sessions. I'd come in and lead the group through some relaxation techniques. Some of the women needed a lot of help ‘letting go' and sharing in the group.”

“Was Lucy one of them?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lisa said with a sigh. “She had lots and lots of personal issues she was wrestling with. I stayed with the group for nearly a year, then my schedule shifted and someone else took my spot. I haven't seen Lucy since then. In fact, I've never been here when she's taught a class, so I didn't even know she was part of the ‘shop family' until Megan told me.”

Kelly glanced to the end of the table, watching Lizzie try to draw Lucy into conversation. “Maybe she could use some counseling now, Lisa. You know, like grief counseling. She looks like a beaten puppy. So sad, she almost makes me want to cry.”

Lisa looked over and nodded. “That's a good suggestion, Kelly. Maybe I can mention it to her on the way out. Tell her if she wants to talk with anyone to give me a call, and I'll arrange it.” With that, Lisa rose and walked slowly to the end of the table.

Kelly watched as Lisa greeted Lucy and the others, engaged them in conversation for a couple of moments, then leaned down beside Lucy's chair. After a moment, Lucy's blue eyes widened in her pale face before she dropped her head and stared at her knitting once again. Lisa patted Lucy on the shoulder before she left the room.

Good job, Lisa, Kelly mentally congratulated her friend. Maybe Lucy will take Lisa up on the offer, grab at the helping hands that are offered, maybe…

The rest of Kelly's encouraging ideas evaporated when she saw Lucy abruptly push back her chair, shove her knitting haphazardly into her bag, and race from the knitting table. Her face was red and wet with tears.

So much for good intentions, Kelly thought sadly.