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Authors: Maggie Sefton

A Killer Stitch (18 page)

BOOK: A Killer Stitch
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Kelly pondered everything Lizzie had just said while they both knitted in silence. She didn't doubt Lizzie's veracity for a moment. Lizzie had a keen eye.

What on earth would Lucy be feeling guilty about? Perhaps she came from a very strict family where bearing a child out of wedlock was considered a shameful and terrible stain upon a family's reputation. Ellen had mentioned that Lucy's mother had died and her father remarried, and Lucy had been estranged from them for several years. So it didn't make sense that she would be scared of an absent family's judgment of her, did it? What, then? Certainly not her friends' opinions. Everyone at the shop loved Lucy and had been nothing but supportive of her since Derek's death. Kelly had no doubt they would be even more kind and solicitous when they learned that Lucy was pregnant. What, then?

Kelly pondered and came up with nothing. She continued knitting, the tweed alpaca scarf lengthening slowly as she sorted through possibilities. Shame. Was Lucy ashamed to tell her friends about the baby? That didn't seem likely either. What then? Stitches continued, row upon row, meditative. Lizzie had ceased speaking as well, quietly working her frothy yarn, worried frown still in place.

Why did people feel guilty? Because they'd done something to make them feel ashamed? What could sweet inoffensive Lucy ever do that would make her feel guilty? What could she possibly do?

A fragmented memory floated by, elusive. Something Lucy's friend Ellen had said when they were in the knitting shop talking about Derek's death. What was it? Something about Lucy. Lucy was expecting Derek's child…and she hadn't told him yet.

Suddenly the elusive fragment surfaced in Kelly's mind. She remembered now. Ellen said Lucy had planned to tell Derek that night, the very night he was killed. She tried to call him but couldn't get through. She couldn't tell him…or so she said. What if Lucy was lying? What if she really did go see Derek that night? What if it was Lucy in the car Diane saw driving up to Derek's?

Another wisp floated by. Burt's mention of a lot of messages from women on Derek's cell phone. One of the messages was garbled, but police made out the words “need to see you.” What if that was Lucy calling? What if she drove up to see Derek that night and told him about the baby? What if he rejected her? Spurned her and the baby. Derek Cooper certainly didn't sound like a man who was ready to settle down and be a father.

Kelly let all the disparate thoughts swirl around her mind, jumbling into one another. Did Lucy kill Derek? Was that possible? Was she crazy to even imagine it? Kelly wondered. How could sweet, shy, quiet Lucy kill Derek Cooper? How was that possible? It didn't make sense, did it?
No,
a little voice whispered from the back of her mind.

Then another part of Kelly's brain spoke up, louder this time, joining the argument raging inside her head.
Not necessarily. Remember how Derek Cooper was killed
.

The killer waited until his back was turned then swung a shovel, slamming it into the side of Derek's head. A shovel wasn't too heavy, even for someone like Lucy. She could have swung the shovel, especially if Derek Cooper had just spurned her and her baby. For someone as troubled as Lucy Adair appeared to be, that final rejection might have literally been the straw that broke the camel's back. And Derek Cooper's head.

Kelly finished one row, then turned the scarf and began the next row. Stitches neatly forming one after another, row by row, building on one another, like her thoughts. Thought by thought, idea by idea, slowly building scenes in her mind. Kelly sat knitting, quietly turning over motive and opportunity in her mind, picturing sweet, shy Lucy killing her faithless lover, Derek.

Would Derek's rejection of Lucy and her child cause her to strike out in rage? The heat of such rage and passion often brought with it a superhuman strength. Perhaps that was what happened, and now Lucy could not live with the guilt of what she'd done. Perhaps that was the root of the intense emotion Father Riley and Lizzie both witnessed. If Lucy did kill Derek Cooper, then that would explain the guilt.

Another tweed row, then another, and all the while Kelly kept sorting through her thoughts, becoming more and more certain she'd found the answer. Why else would Lucy be consumed with guilt? Had Lucy confessed to Father Riley? Was that why the priest looked so worried? Father Riley was bound by his priestly vows not to reveal what was heard in the confessional.

How could anyone learn the truth then? Kelly wondered. Maybe she could speak with Lucy. No, that wouldn't work. Lucy would run like a rabbit. Should she try to talk to her with Lizzie? No, Lizzie had done her part. Besides, if Lucy started crying again, Lizzie's motherly instincts would take over her skeptical side.

Another row, then another. Then Lisa's face appeared in her mind. That's it, Kelly decided. She and Lisa could talk with Lucy. It had to be someone Lucy felt safe with, or Lucy would be terrified and run away again. Lucy knew and trusted Lisa. Now all Kelly had to do was convince Lisa. Would she agree with Kelly's plan? After all, Lisa's last attempt to counsel Lucy had resulted in Lucy's tearful escape from the knitting shop.

Kelly finished knitting the row she was on, then shoved the alpaca wool and needles back into her bag. Lisa needed to be convinced that Lucy was hiding something. Something that was causing all the pain and stress they'd witnessed. Kelly wouldn't be able to convince Lisa. Her reputation for sleuthing would damn her. Lisa would know Kelly was on a fishing expedition. But Lizzie could convince her.

She grabbed her coat and knitting bag as she rose from the table. “Lizzie, I have some errands to run, but I was wondering if you'd be willing to speak with Lisa on the phone. I think if anyone can get through to Lucy, it will be Lisa. That's why I'd like you to tell her everything you told me about Lucy, if you would, please.”

“Certainly, dear, if you think it will help,” Lizzie replied.

“It's the only thing I can think of, Lizzie. Someone needs to convince Lucy she needs professional help,” Kelly said as she headed for the door, zipping her winter coat.

Kelly
pulled into the gravel driveway, steering around an iced-over puddle. Halfway down the driveway, she stopped and turned off the ignition. A gust of wind rocked her car. Spitting snow flew sideways in sheets. Despite that, Kelly wrapped her chunky wool scarf around her neck, pulled her knit hat down over her ears, and jumped out of the car. The lure of Geri Norbert's canyon property was stronger than freezing cold, bitter winds that roared, and icy snow that stung her cheeks. Even the slippery canyon road hadn't stopped her.

None of it mattered. The sight of evergreens coated with snow, branches laden down, touching the ground, pastures and fence posts draped in white made the entire drive worthwhile. Snow stretched to the horizon. Thirty minutes before, Kelly had glimpsed her favorite view of the Rockies in the distance, glacier peaks, coated with winter. Then the clouds changed, merged with one another, and filled the sky overhead until it was solid white. Snow sky. Unmistakable.

A wind gust blew Kelly back several inches as she stood beside the fence. This high up, the wind howled. Not seeing the alpacas, she figured they had sought shelter in the barn, since the doors were open. Another gust blew her scarf around her face, whipping the scarf ends. She nestled into her jacket as she took in the wintry scene. Even though Kelly loved summer and the lush green of the canyon, winter was beautiful, too. Somehow the run-down ranch house and barns looked picturesque in the snow. Yes, the roads were scary to drive in these conditions, but she'd get used to them. Kelly was sure of it.

That familiar feeling returned to Kelly full force. The feeling that came over her whenever she saw this gorgeous canyon property. Desire. She wanted this ranch. It didn't matter if two other buyers dumped it. It didn't matter that Jennifer was convinced something was wrong with it. Heck, it didn't matter if there really were ghosts. Kelly didn't care. She wanted it. And she wasn't about to let it slip through her fingers again. She'd tell Jennifer to up the offer, if necessary.

A blast of wind blew icy snow-sleet into her face, stinging Kelly's eyes. Another blast pushed her into the fence, scarf ends flapping like ships' pennants. Kelly wiped her eyes, took one last panoramic look, and raced to her car. Jumping in, she revved the engine and turned the heater to high. Better not linger up here too long. After all, the trip out of the canyon was all downhill and icy.

“Hey,
Kelly, you staying warm?” Jayleen asked.

Kelly nestled her cell phone between her neck and shoulders while she rinsed her dinner dishes. “Trying to. Particularly since I drove up to Geri Norbert's ranch today. Brother, that road is nasty when it's snowing.”

“Whoa, girl, you picked a bad day to drive up here. What were you doing?”

“Taking another look. Jennifer told me yesterday that the ranch is back on the market again. The second buyer dumped it like the first one did. Jennifer thinks it's haunted.” Kelly wiped her hands on a dish towel and retrieved the phone, which was about to slip off her shoulder.

“You're kidding,” Jayleen said, clearly surprised. “What is going on with that place? It's a great property. Maybe those folks weren't meant to live in the mountains. I'll bet that last buyer from back east got a taste of winter here and decided no thanks.”

“Who knows, Jayleen.” Kelly poured a dark stream of coffee into her mug, then wandered over to the patio door. She peered into the darkened backyard, spotting Carl galumphing through the snow. “I don't care why she dumped it, I'm just glad she did. Maybe I'll have a chance to grab it this time. Jennifer's coming over in a few minutes with a new purchase offer. Wish me luck.”

“You know I do, Kelly,” Jayleen said. “Three's the charm, you know. This'll be the third time you offered on it.”

Kelly laughed. “I'll remember that. By the way, did you visit Diane this afternoon? How's she doing?”

“I sure did. She's doing okay, I guess. Kind of subdued. Both the alcohol counselor and the psychologist spoke with her this morning, so she's got plenty to think about. She's a smart girl. She'll figure it out. I hope.” Jayleen let out a long sigh. “Oh, and I remembered to ask her that question you told me.”

“Good, good.” Kelly set down her mug. “Does she still remember seeing a car when she left Derek's that night? I was wondering if she'd imagined it, maybe.”

“Nope, she says she remembers it clear as day. There was a small car driving up to Derek's as she was driving away.”

The anxious voice inside her head exulted. “Okay, that means there was someone else coming to see Derek that night after Diane left,” Kelly said.

“Providing Diane's telling the truth.”

Kelly paused. Jayleen's tone had turned somber. “Do you think she's lying to us?”

“I dunno, Kelly,” Jayleen said with a sigh. “She lied to me the other day. When we were driving back to the ranch Sunday night, I asked her flat out if she'd taken a drink while we were at the party. Told her someone had seen her with the vodka. She denied it right to my face.”

Kelly winced. “Damn, Jayleen, do you think she's been lying to us all along?” All those earlier doubts about Diane crept out of the corners of Kelly's mind. They hadn't gone far.

“Hard to say, Kelly. I know I did my share of lying in my drinking days. Usually to cover my butt. So I don't know what to say. Maybe Diane only lies about her drinking. Then again, maybe it goes deeper than that. I'm hoping to hell this time at the hospital will clear up her thinking and set her straight.”

Kelly pondered what Jayleen said. If Diane lied about her drinking, what else has she lied about? Kelly wanted to believe Diane, but…

“Listen, Kelly, I've gotta get back to work. I'm finally unpacking those boxes in the barn. Promise me you won't be driving into this canyon again until the roads are cleared. You don't have a truck or a four-by-four, so that makes it trickier.”

“I promise. Today was icy enough for me. I'll talk with you tomorrow. I think I hear Jennifer at my door now.”

Kelly was halfway to her front door when Jennifer pushed it open, escaping inside. “Whoooo! It's frigid out there,” she said, stamping her feet.

“Come on in.” Kelly beckoned. “I've got coffee and hot chocolate ready.”

Jennifer shed her coat and gloves and shivered, rubbing her sweater-clad arms. “Hot chocolate. Why don't we sit at the kitchen table?” She retrieved a legal-sized black vinyl folder and followed Kelly into the cozy cottage kitchen.

Kelly poured hot chocolate into a large ceramic mug as Jennifer settled at the table. “Okay, tell me everything you found out. But you know, it won't change my mind. I drove up there this afternoon in the snow and ice, and I still want that ranch.” She gave her friend a wink before taking a deep drink of coffee.

“You drove up into that canyon in this weather?” Jennifer exclaimed, clearly shocked. “Now I know you're crazy.”

“No, I wanted to see if I still felt the same way about the place in the winter as I did in the summer and fall. And I do. It's beautiful. Snow-covered evergreens, Rockies glistening in the distance, even the barn looked pretty.”

BOOK: A Killer Stitch
12.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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