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Authors: Maggie Sefton

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BOOK: Skein of the Crime
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The young woman didn’t answer. She simply stared back at Kelly, smiling. Kelly could see her features from the lights shining inside the house.
“Who
are
you, and where did you come from?” Kelly demanded, peering at the girl. The young woman appeared college-aged and was slightly built with medium-length blonde hair, a pretty face, and a snub nose. She was wearing a print dress that came to the tops of her knees, and she was barefoot.
Again, the girl made no answer, but her smile grew wider. She clasped her hands together in front of her and began to rock gently side to side.
Suddenly, Kelly knew.
Drugs
. The girl was stoned. Totally. That vacant, not-really-there look in her eyes, that big pumpkin grin, and the rocking. Gently rocking back and forth, as if to some inner music.
Ohhhh, yeah,
Kelly thought to herself.
She’d seen this before. Years ago in college at parties where drugs were freely available. Some chose to partake and temporarily “leave the planet behind” so to speak, and others stayed, feet firmly planted on terra firma. Kelly always stayed planted.
Kelly studied the girl again and lowered her voice, trying once more to get a response. “Where did you come from? What’s your name?”
But there was no response. The girl continued to grin and rock back and forth. Kelly backed away toward the patio door and stepped inside the house, sliding the door shut. Then she flipped the lock, just in case. Even though the girl appeared harmless, Kelly wasn’t about to take a chance. Especially given that the girl was clearly not in possession of her faculties at the moment.
The girl needed medical help. No telling what drugs she’d taken or how many. There were several apartment complexes across the intersection with the Big Box shopping center. And there were also older neighborhoods housing students bordering the Old Town area. Maybe she wandered down the river trail from one of the parties.
Early September still brought late summer’s warmth with it, so nights were extremely pleasant. Perfect for outside parties and gatherings like Kelly had enjoyed with her teammates tonight. On such a nice night, the girl could have wandered from anywhere in the vicinity.
Carl came up beside Kelly and stared through the glass but didn’t make a sound. No barking, nothing. That surprised Kelly. Her extremely loving, sweet dog had always lived up to his Rottweiler reputation as a vigilant watchdog. Evildoers usually left Kelly’s cottage alone. Whenever she heard his “intruder alert” bark in the middle of the night, she was glad he was on patrol.
“What’s up with this, Carl?” she interrogated, as she went for her phone. “How come you weren’t barking your head off when I came home? And you never even let on there was a stranger out there.”
Carl looked up at Kelly, clearly perplexed by her concern.
“I’ll bet you already knew she was spaced-out. Doggy sixth sense, huh?” Kelly punched in the numerals 9-1-1 and felt an anxious twist to her gut. The last time she’d called 911 was years ago when her father was dying of lung cancer and she needed an ambulance.
The police department’s dispatcher came on the line and asked Kelly to give her name and her location.
“My name’s Kelly Flynn, and I’m here in my home at 1111-A Lemay Avenue. I came home a few minutes ago and found a college-aged girl, a stranger, standing outside on my backyard patio. She appears to be stoned because she doesn’t talk or answer questions. Clearly, she doesn’t know where or who she is right now. I think she needs medical help.”
“Officers will be there shortly, ma’am.”
 
 
 
Kelly stood on her front stoop outside with Carl on his leash, watching the activity unfolding between her cottage and the knitting shop. The gravel driveway was crowded with a police car, an ambulance, and a regular-length fire engine. Kelly didn’t understand why both an ambulance and a fire engine responded to the dispatcher’s call, each with their own EMT or paramedic team. Maybe it was a slow night in Fort Connor. There must be ten people standing about, all surrounding one young girl.
Every now and then, Carl would emit a low bark or “ruff,” as if he should be patrolling the entire situation.
“Easy, Carl. They don’t need you there. It’s crowded enough already.”
Two police officers, a man and a woman, had first responded to her call. Their huge black flashlights sent bright arcs of light shining around her cottage as they circled it, then entered the backyard. They found the girl still standing on the edge of the patio, gazing up at the sky. Kelly watched from inside the house as they repeatedly asked her questions. The girl didn’t respond to the police, either. She simply continued to smile broadly and rock back and forth as the wail of emergency sirens cut through the night air.
The police officers led the young girl from the backyard to the front of the cottage just as the fire engine had rolled down the gravel driveway, brushing the overhanging cottonwood branches as it did. Kelly grabbed a cola from the fridge and put Carl on his leash in order to watch the proceedings from her front step. Maybe the paramedics would have better luck communicating with the girl.
They didn’t. Kelly had watched a team of four encircle the girl. Then one paramedic tried to elicit a response from her while the others checked her eyes, her heartbeat, her skin, all the while asking the girl her name, where she lived, and how she got to this location. To no avail. Kelly was actually surprised all that talking and probing didn’t stimulate some kind of response.
Only once did the girl respond. But not to the paramedics. She raised both arms slowly skyward, gazed up into the heavens, and began to sing. Kelly couldn’t understand a word and decided she was probably communicating with the “Mothership.” She watched the professionals respond to the girl’s song by asking more questions. No answers came.
Five minutes later, an ambulance had arrived, and Kelly watched the entire procedure repeated with another team of paramedics. This time the girl stopped singing and simply rocked back and forth the entire time the ambulance team examined her. Finally, those paramedics placed the girl onto a gurney and loaded her into the ambulance.
Kelly drained her cola as the ambulance backed up, yellow lights flashing and the insistent warning sound beeping shrilly before it headed out the driveway. She noticed the two police officers were headed her way. At last. She had a lot of questions. Carl also noticed them and had broken his “down,” standing in front of her, on the defensive.
“Easy, Carl. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kelly reassured him, rubbing Carl’s smooth black head as the two officers paused at the end of the sidewalk.
“He okay?” the young man asked, pointing toward Carl.
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. Carl,
sit
,” Kelly commanded. “It’s okay.” Carl needed a slight jerk of the collar to comply, but he sat. “Stay,” Kelly ordered, palm up, adding the visual command. “Good boy.”
“Nice dog,” the female officer said as she and her colleague slowly approached.
“Thanks, he’s a sweet boy, but he’s also a good watchdog. Good dog, Carl,” she said again and rubbed Carl’s head.
“Did you check the yard as soon as you came home, Ms. Flynn?” the guy asked.
“No, sir. I came inside and did my usual routine. I let Carl in from the backyard. He came in and didn’t let on there was anyone out there, so I was really surprised to see her.”
“We realize this must have been pretty frightening,” the guy said.
“Well, it certainly gave me a start, I’ll say that. To turn around and see the girl standing there so close in the dark . . .” Kelly shook her head. “That was definitely spooky.”
“And you said your dog wasn’t barking or acting unusual.”
“Nope. He acted normal. I have a feeling Carl had already decided she was stoned out of her head and consequently wasn’t a threat. Because, believe me, Carl goes ballistic if anybody suspicious-looking shows up, any stranger at all. Even golfers who wander too close, looking for stray balls, set him off.”
“I think you may be right. Carl figured it out first, didn’t you, boy?” the woman said, smiling.
“Tell me, officers, what do you think she was taking? Any idea? She was totally spaced. I watched you guys try to get something out of her, but nothing. Except the singing.”
“The paramedics said she’d probably used either Ecstasy or LSD, judging from how fast her heart rate was,” the man replied.
“Will they keep her overnight at the hospital?”
“They’ll keep her until she sobers up and comes to her senses. When the drug wears off, they’ll try to find the name and number of someone who could come pick her up. Then they’ll release her.”
Kelly stared off toward the golf course, shrouded in night. “I wonder where she came from. I know there are parties going on regularly in those houses bordering Old Town. Do you think she wandered from over there? I mean, that’s a ways to walk, and she was barefoot.”
“We figured she probably took the river trail,” the man said, pointing. “That would bring her beside the golf course where she was bound to see your cottage all lit up. She must have headed straight for it.”
“Heading toward the lights, that makes sense,” Kelly mused out loud. “Once the university is back in session this fall, there’ll be even more parties going on. I sure hope others don’t start wandering across the golf course.”
The fire truck’s big engine revved up then, bright lights flashing.
“I don’t think you have to worry, Ms. Flynn,” the man called over the sound as he turned to leave. “Odds of something like this happening once is pretty low. The chance of it happening again would be almost impossible. Good night.”
“Good night, officers, and thank you very much,” Kelly called out, returning the policewoman’s wave as she watched the fire engine lumber down the driveway toward the street.
Kelly had always been suspicious of statistics.
One
Early September
 
Kelly
hastened across the gravel driveway and up to the front door of the knitting shop, House of Lambspun. Bright annuals bloomed in the pots that dotted the sidewalk and steps. Red, white, and purple petunias, yellow marigolds, blue lobelia, scarlet, white, lavender, and peach impatiens. Summer’s temperatures were still holding forth, so flowers were usually safe until later in the month. However, September sometimes brought early snows to Fort Connor and an early end to summer blooms.
Pushing the heavy wooden door open, Kelly paused in the foyer to let her senses drink in the fall colors that had appeared the first days of the month. Right on schedule, Mimi and her shop elves had removed the brighter and lighter summer yarns and repositioned them to other rooms. The foyer and central yarn room were now adorned with autumn’s palette of lush, rich, earthy colors.
Browns, the color of rich garden soil and fallen, crushed leaves. Deep forest greens, mushroom grays, gourd yellows, and pumpkin orange. And cranberry, both vibrant and dusky soft.
Kelly wandered into the room, fingers touching fibers as she passed. Wooden bins and shelves lined the walls, and all were filled with the fall colors. She sank her hand into a pile of tweed alpaca and squeezed. Soft, soft. Next she caressed a bin of sage-colored mohair and silk. Luscious. Then another bin of multicolor bulky wools beckoned and another and another.
The shop assistant Rosa walked by, two bundles of yarn in her hands. “Hey, Kelly. Thanks for helping out again. I’m taking care of a customer, but Barbara is setting up in the classroom right now.”
Kelly pulled her empty coffee mug from her shoulder bag and headed for the classroom. She’d need a ration of strong coffee before she could face eager students. She walked through the classroom doorway and spotted the tall, big-boned, middle-aged woman she’d worked with before. “Hey, Barbara. You’ve got me as your helper again. Mimi called this morning and said she was shorthanded. Rosa is busy up front as usual.”
Barbara’s strong features softened into a smile. “Thanks for coming in again, Kelly. I’ll definitely need some help with these new students. Six have signed up for the class, and appearances to the contrary, there’s only so much of me to go around.” She gave a hearty laugh.
Kelly joined in. “Glad to help, Barbara. As you know, I’m reasonably knowledgeable if it’s simple knitting. The complicated stuff you’ll have to explain.” She glanced around the table, saw the copies of patterns spread out. “What will they be knitting?”
“This is supposed to be an advanced beginner class, so I thought I’d teach them how to make a hat. Starting now, they’ll have it finished and ready to wear by winter.”
“That’s great,” Kelly enthused. “Hats are my specialty. Simple hats, you understand. Not the complicated ones. I’m used to doing mine on the circular needles.”
Barbara smiled reassuringly. “That’s exactly what they’ll be doing. I wanted them to start simple and gain even more confidence. They’ve been making scarves and a couple said they made a pair of mittens.”
“That kind of sounds like my path,” Kelly admitted, dropping her shoulder bag onto a nearby chair. “All except the mittens. Those tiny little needles would give me a headache.”
Barbara smiled broadly, her dark eyes lighting up. “Oh, you should give it a try, Kelly. If you can knit a hat, you can knit mittens.”
“That’s what everyone says, but I’m not so sure,” Kelly said, grabbing her mug. “Working in such a small space, there’s no telling what kind of mistakes I could make. I have enough trouble with bigger projects.”
Barbara laughed loudly. “We’ll have to see what we can do about that, Kelly.”
“Right now I need more caffeine, or I’ll be fading soon. Be back in a minute.” Kelly noticed two women enter the classroom. “Come on in, you’re in the right place,” she said as she headed toward the doorway. “This is Barbara. I’m Kelly, and I’m helping, but I’m seriously caffeine-deprived, so I’ll be back after a fill-up.”
BOOK: Skein of the Crime
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