Yarned and Dangerous (13 page)

She blew him a kiss. “I love you more than I can say, Unc.”

“Go on. Get out.” He picked up the remote control and began to flip through the channels.

“I won't be late. I'm just going to the shop for a while with Helen and Evelyn.”

His brow furrowed. “Good. If those two are in town, they're not bothering me. Stay as late as you want.”

Her tires crunched on the frozen dirt of the driveway as she backed out and into the road. The ink-black sky was full of stars, and the moon was huge, like a big silvery medallion on the chest of a celestial Bee Gee. Other than the sound of the engine, there was silence. Josie had to admit, it was peaceful. The city was never quiet. Something or someone was always in motion.

As she rolled along toward town, her thoughts turned back to Trey and Diantha and the eviction notice. What was the point? It was no secret she was packing up the contents of Miss Marple Knits with the intent of closing up the business. There was no need for any formal proceedings. Eb had no reason to delay vacating the premises. So what was Trey's hurry? He needed the variance, or the permits, or whatever exactly it was that he was looking for at the upcoming town meeting. But Marian at the town hall had said the application would most likely be approved, and with his mother and Dougie Brewster on the town council, there didn't seem to be any obstacles. The ground was still frozen and covered with a foot of snow, so it didn't seem likely that any demolition or subsequent construction was going to get done before spring.

The most obvious explanation was that Diantha was pulling the strings and manipulating her spineless son. Diantha didn't like Josie, that much was clear. Did she think she could force Josie out of town by putting on some legal pressure? Diantha seemed to think that Josie still had designs on Trey, which was laughable. Not in a million years would she come between Trey and the delightful Courtney.

Still, it seemed like overkill. Josie would be finished and gone, soon enough.

Josie gulped. Overkill. How had Lillian gotten into the yarn shop? And who had killed her? If the police had a suspect, it wasn't common knowledge around town yet—or at least Josie hadn't heard, and she had to think Evelyn would have told her if she knew.

Josie pulled up in front of Miss Marple Knits. All the shops on Main Street were dark. Streetlights cast an eerie yellow glow over the empty sidewalks as a faint sense of foreboding washed over her. She really, really did not want to go into the dark building alone, so she decided to wait for the ladies. With the radio turned up, she made sure the car doors were locked—carjacking seemed unlikely in Dorset Falls, but then so did murder—and leaned back in her seat to wait.

Suddenly, a glimmer of light registered in the corner of her eye. She turned toward it, then sat up straight. It wasn't a car's headlight, as she'd thought. This came from up high. Josie stared. A sliver of illumination shone from one of the third floor windows in the vacant building across the street. The light blinked out for a moment, then reappeared, as if someone had walked past the shaded window.

Neck craned, Josie scanned Main Street. Not a car or another person in sight.

The apprehension she'd felt moments earlier was replaced by curiosity. What was going on up there?

Josie put the car into drive and pulled out. Where else could someone park? She drove down to the g.s. on the corner and around the back, but the building was dark and the parking lot was empty. She circled around and crossed Main Street again, this time continuing on past the block that faced Miss Marple Knits. She slowed and pulled into a narrow alley behind the building. No lights were visible on the second or third floors from this direction.

Parked in the alley was a car. Not just any car. If she wasn't very much mistaken, she was looking at a Buick. The license plate read KNTTR-1.
Evelyn
.

J
osie backed out onto the street and returned to the spot in front of the yarn shop. What was going on? What could Evelyn possibly be doing up there? There was one way to find out. Josie would come right out and ask.

Before she could think any further, a car pulled in to the spot in front of her. A woman got out and made her way toward the shop. Helen waved, and Josie shut off the engine and met her at the door, feeling a sense of relief. Why, she couldn't say. Helen had a secret too. Josie had seen Helen go up those stairs across the street a few days ago.

“Hello, Josie,” Helen said. “It's certainly nippy tonight, isn't it?”

Josie put her key in the lock and turned. The big door swung open, and she flipped on the lights as fast as she could. “Sure is. Glad you could come. I hope you don't mind that I invited Lorna.”

Helen glanced at her watch. “No, of course not. I've been dying to bring her over to the Dark Side. Get her knitting, you know? Though we're going to have to start buying our yarn somewhere else, now that Cora's gone. But don't feel bad about that, dear.”

“I don't.” Well, maybe she did. She glanced around. The couch and chairs sat like a friendly oasis in the midst of the bare walls and piles of bagged inventory. “Let's sit and wait for Evelyn and Lorna.”

Helen parked herself in one of the wingback chairs, reached into her purse, and pulled out an enormous piece of knitting. The stitches were on a flexible cable of some kind that had two pointy ends. Interesting. She pulled out a few feet of yarn and began to knit.

“What's that you're making?” Josie asked.

“Afghan,” Helen replied. “It's just a simple basketweave pattern. Sometimes you don't want to do anything complicated. I could practically knit this in my sleep.”

Josie laughed. “Well, you could cover your whole body with it while you're making it, that's for sure. I've never seen a knitting needle like that.”

Helen held it out so Josie could get a better look. “This is a circular needle. We use them for knitting big projects, or for knitting in the round. You've got some hanging on the wall over there.” She indicated the wall of tools and implements that hadn't yet been counted and logged.

The shop bells jingled. Lorna came in carrying a tote bag. Was there knitting in there? Josie had invited Lorna as much for the fact that she didn't want to be the only nonknitter in the room as for the fact of their reestablished friendship. But Lorna set the bag on the floor, reached into it, and pulled out a bottle of white wine and a short stack of plastic cups that she put on the coffee table. Her bag of tricks also contained a plastic-wrapped platter of cheese and crackers. Not a knitting needle or a strand of yarn in sight, bless her.

“Hope you don't mind I brought us a snack,” she said.

“Are you kidding? Just toss your coat on the counter, and let's dig in.” Not that she should have been hungry. There was still casserole left at Eb's house even though Josie hadn't been stingy with the portions at dinner. It seemed to regenerate itself every time she took a spoonful. They'd barely made a dent in it.

The door blew open, and Evelyn appeared. She smoothed down her hair, then came and sat down. “Sorry I'm late,” she said.

Josie studied her, not sure what she was expecting to see. Guilt written across Evelyn's forehead? But guilt for what? Sure, Evelyn seemed to be sneaking around, but there was no evidence she'd done anything wrong.

“Babysitting again?” Helen asked.

Babysitting? In an abandoned building? Not likely.

Evelyn nodded. “Harrison is working late, and Sharla needed to run out to the store. I got here as soon as I could.” Her face was all innocence.

“Well, I'm glad you're here now,” Josie said, taking a cracker and topping it with a slice of yellow cheese. She decided to go for it. “You know something? I just saw the strangest thing.”

“Do tell,” Lorna said. She put her wineglass to her lips and took a sip.

“Those buildings across the street? I saw a light in one of the windows on the third floor.” She stole a glance at Evelyn, who was looking down and reaching into her purse. Impossible to tell if she'd reacted.

“Just now?” Lorna asked, leaning forward slightly. “Are you sure you didn't see a reflection from the streetlamps, or a car's headlights? That building was a ladies' dress shop, I think, years ago, and I have no idea what was on the upper floors, but it's been closed up for years.”

Evelyn continued to rummage in her purse, finally extracting her knitting. She got right to work, staring down at the cherry-red piece that had grown in length since the last time Josie had seen it. “Yes,” Evelyn said, without looking up. “That was Beatrice Ryder's dress shop in the sixties. I'm not sure who owns the building now.” She looked into Josie's eyes. “But I
am
sure you must be mistaken about that light. That place has been closed up tight since Nixon was in office.” She went back to her knitting.

Helen was also knitting away, and also avoiding looking at Josie. Interesting. Should Josie confront them? They were deliberately lying. She'd seen both of them on separate occasions enter the building through the wooden door fronting Main Street, after checking to make sure the coast was clear. But did she have any right to interrogate them? She barely knew these ladies. They didn't owe her an explanation for anything.

Yet, these past few days working with Evelyn, Josie had felt that they were developing a friendship. So it hurt a little that Evelyn was not telling her the truth.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door's opening yet again, causing another blast of cold air to circulate around the room. Who could this be? All of her invited guests were here.

Diantha barged into the shop, followed by Courtney. Diantha's face was red, presumably from the cold, but two little circles of white dotted her cheeks. “Well, isn't this cozy? I suppose you forgot about the Charity Knitters meeting at my house? The one that started half an hour ago?” Courtney just stood there, glaring at Josie.

Evelyn spoke up. “Oh, we didn't forget. We just didn't come.” She knitted a few stitches, then pulled up some more yarn from the skein.

Diantha purpled. This couldn't be good for her blood pressure, Josie thought, remembering Evelyn's earlier words about Diantha's health. Josie hoped there wouldn't be another death in the shop.

“What,” Diantha said through clenched teeth, “about the orphans in Uzbekistan? Just when are those hats going to get knitted?”

“Diantha, you know we sent three dozen hats six months ago. Those orphans' heads are plenty warm. Helen and I have moved on to catnip mouse toys for the pet shelter in Hartford.”

Diantha went rigid. “The president of the Dorset Falls Charity Knitters Association chooses the projects. And I”—she jabbed a thumb toward her chest—“am the president.”

“Hail to the chief,” Helen muttered. Josie stifled a giggle.

Diantha turned toward her. “This is all your doing. I want you out of here. Tomorrow.” Her hands were fisted on her hips.

“Doesn't Trey own this building?” Josie said evenly. “The eviction notice said seven days, and I will have this building vacated in seven days. You wouldn't want me to take Trey to court for an unlawful eviction, would you?”

Diantha opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Courtney, though, finally found her voice. “You do that, and we'll countersue for . . . we'll countersue. Mark my words.”

“Marked.” Josie sat back on the couch.

“Now run along, you two,” Evelyn said. “We'll let you know when the mice are ready, then you can deliver them. Oh, that reminds me. Lorna, can you order us some catnip through the g.s.?”

Lorna smiled and nodded. “Sure. Anything for the cats.”

Diantha stormed off, Courtney following close and slamming the door behind them.

The four women exchanged looks. Josie began to giggle. Soon they were all laughing. “Well,” Evelyn said, wiping her eyes with a tissue she pulled from the sleeve of her sweater. “That was fun.”

Josie had to agree.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Evelyn and Helen finally put away their knitting. Josie had watched, fascinated. These two had been knitting for hours straight, with only a bathroom break. Didn't their fingers get tired?

“This has been lovely,” Helen said to Josie. “A last hurrah for Miss Marple Knits. I feel like Cora was with us, somehow.”

“I agree,” Evelyn said. “This was almost like old times. Not that they were necessarily better.” She rearranged an errant knitting needle that was sticking up from the opening of her bag, then gave the bag a zip. “It's nice to have some younger people with us.” She rose and donned her coat.

“What about Courtney?” Lorna smiled. “She's about our age.”

Helen gave a little sniff and put on her coat, wrapping a long purple scarf around her neck. “Courtney is Diantha's Mini-Me. She doesn't count. Now, Josie.” She enveloped Josie in a warm hug. A faint scent of roses reached Josie's nose. “This has been lovely. Thank you.”

Josie returned the hug, then let the older woman go. “You're welcome.”

“Same goes for me,” Evelyn said, her tone more businesslike. She'd seemed a little distant tonight. Josie had to wonder if it had something to do with Josie's mentioning the building across the street. “I'll see you in the morning. We need to get this place packed up so you can be out of here in plenty of time. I'd hate to give Diantha and her wishy-washy son any ammunition against you.” She and Helen left.

Josie stood in the doorway and watched Helen and Evelyn get safely into their cars. The light, whatever it had been, was no longer shining from the upstairs window. Not that that was surprising. Evelyn had no doubt shut it off before she came here. The sound of the ladies' cars faded off into the distance. No sound of them circling back reached her ears. So she came back inside.

Lorna had cleared the bottle, plates, and cups and had rearranged the stacks of knitting magazines on the table. “This was fun. Thanks for inviting me.”

“I loved having you. Thank
you
for the snacks. I guess I'm not a natural hostess or I'd have thought of that myself.”

“Not a problem.” Lorna put her empty tray into a plastic grocery sack and stuffed it into her bag. “Are you going to need help finishing here? I've got a day off this week, and I don't have anything planned.”

Josie smiled. “I may take you up on that. Do you have a big car? Or a truck? I'm probably going to have to transport all this stuff out to Eb's house to store. Not that I know where I'm going to put it.” Well, she supposed she could clean out one or two of the other bedrooms. Although the stuff in those rooms would have to go somewhere to make room for the new stuff. It made her brain hurt just a little to think about it. “Come on. Time to go home before we turn into pumpkins.”

After locking up, Josie watched Lorna drive away. Her car would be useless for moving all this stuff. It was a tiny, boxy little thing.

Josie started up her Saab and pulled out. Although she knew it was probably pointless—if Evelyn and Helen had any sense, they wouldn't go upstairs in the abandoned building tonight—it couldn't hurt to have a look around. Main Street was empty of cars. The parking lot behind the g.s. was empty, as was the alley behind the abandoned building. Nope. They'd gone home, which she should be doing too.

The countryside rolled by as she motored down the Irish Settlement Road. An animal the size of a small dog with a long, bushy tail ran out in front of her, and she tapped her brakes. She skidded a bit, but was able to keep the vehicle under control. The fox made it across the road safely. Why, Josie wondered, was it out of its den? Didn't they hibernate? Perhaps it was a sign that spring might finally come to Connecticut after all. She just hoped the creature would stay away from the hens at Eb's farm.

Her heart rate had barely returned to normal when she noticed lights in her rearview mirror. Returning her eyes to the road ahead, she was surprised when the lights behind her flashed brighter in the mirror. They drew closer. A glance at her speedometer showed that she was traveling about thirty-five miles per hour, which seemed reasonable on a country road in the middle of winter. The car following was quickly closing the gap, and clearly in a hurry.

Well, if whoever it was wanted to crack him or herself up, there was nothing she could do about it. But she could move out of the way.

Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a place to go. The road was barely two lanes here, made narrower by snow plowed up along the edges. She could pull over, but not far, and there was a good chance whoever it was would slam right into the back of her.

Her heart rate began to tick up again. Were there any driveways or crossroads along this stretch? Eb's driveway was at least a mile ahead. Roy's farm was beyond that. The lights drew closer.

Keep your eyes on the road. Not behind you
.
Look for a place to turn off.
But she was finding it hard to heed her own advice.
Slow down, you idiot,
she willed the speeding car. Should she increase her own speed? That would prevent the car from gaining on her so fast. Terrible idea. The bulk of the driving she'd done over the last decade had been in the city. She wasn't an experienced winter driver. Her speedometer held steady at thirty-five.

Breathe. Keep calm.
Good advice, but hard to implement when the headlights behind her, set on bright, were now reflecting into her mirror and into her eyes. She blinked, attempting to regain her night vision. The car was only a few feet behind her now. Desperately she searched for a place to pull off, but now, instead of snowbanks lining the road, a ditch several feet deep appeared off the edge.