Close Knit Killer (9 page)

* * *

“Hey,
Kelly, did I get you at a bad time?” Burt’s voice came over her cell phone.

“No, no, I’m driving back from our game. Steve and the guys are still playing Longmont.”
Kelly slowed her car and turned into a shopping center to park. “How’d it go with
Cassie? What’s she like?”

“She’s a sweetheart, just like Jennifer described. Tall, skinny, with dark brown hair
down to her shoulders, and the biggest blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Huge. I swear,
I thought her eyes were going to pop out when she came into the shop.” Burt’s warm
chuckle sounded. “She was staring in every direction and touching everything in sight.”

Kelly could easily imagine that scene. “That sounds like me the first time I set foot
into Lambspun. I bet Mimi was pleased at Cassie’s reaction. I could tell she was hoping
Cassie might like to join her knitting class.”

“Ohhhh, yeah. She took a real shine to Cassie, just like I thought she would.”

“What’s she like? When you talk with her, I mean?”

“Well, she was real quiet when she first came into the shop with Jennifer and Pete.
She stayed right between them when Mimi and I were talking with her. Then we started
to show her around the shop, and her eyes just kept getting bigger and bigger.” He
laughed softly again. “Of course, Mimi was in her element, showing Cassie everything,
as you can imagine.”

“I figured as much. I told Jennifer yesterday that I had a feeling Mother Mimi would
really appreciate having some time with Cassie. Some one-on-one time. Mimi’s so good
at that. She’s been mothering all of us, now she’ll have a chance to mother someone
who actually needs it.”

“I feel that same way. Listen, I also wanted to let you know that I did get to talk
with Dan. And he said he’d heard about Rizzoli’s murder but wasn’t involved in the
investigation. He promised he’d look into it and get back to me with more details.”

“So it definitely was murder?”

“It looks that way, but the medical examiner hasn’t made his report yet. All Dan heard
was Rizzoli was stabbed in the throat with a knife.”

Kelly had no trouble picturing the gruesome method of murder. She had walked in on
a similar crime scene years ago. The first year she was here in Fort Connor. A woman
in Bellevue Canyon had her throat cut. Kelly didn’t think she’d ever forget the gruesome
sight.

“Stabbed in the throat. That’s a pretty angry way to kill someone. That kind of fits
with everything we’ve heard about Rizzoli and his past misdeeds. There were certainly
plenty of people angry with him. Now police will have to narrow it down and find the
one who did it.”

“That about sums it up, Kelly. The tricky part will be the narrowing-down process.
Brother . . . that could take a long time. Like we’ve both said, Rizzoli made a lot
of enemies here.”

“Did Dan say what kind of knife was used? That would be a clue.”

Burt’s chuckle came over the line. “Right as usual, Sherlock. Dan hadn’t heard any
details. I imagine more will come out with the examiner’s report. Who knows? Maybe
police found the weapon already.”

“Well, if so, maybe there will be some fingerprints.” She revved the car’s engine.

“We can only hope, Sherlock. We can only hope.”

Nine

“I
e-mailed those financial statements through five minutes ago, right before you called,”
Kelly said to her Denver client, Don Warner. “They look really good, Don. I think
you’ll be pleased.”

“Music to my ears, Kelly.” Warner’s voice came over her cell phone. “I’m kicking around
some new ideas. I’ll run them by you next time you’re in Denver. Maybe on Wednesday
when you’re here for the staff meeting.”

Kelly watched Carl roll on the ground in the cottage backyard, legs in the air, scratching
his back.
Ahhhh, the life of a dog
. “Sounds like a plan, Don.”

“There goes my other phone. Talk to you on Wednesday, Kelly.”

“See you then,” Kelly said, and clicked off the same time as her client.

Another hot, sunny day beckoned to her outside. Summer temperatures would be in the
high eighties and nineties. And no rain in the forecast. Even the sparse April showers
had ceased in May. All of Colorado was dry. Bone dry. And that was not a good thing
in the mountains, especially heading into summer. Wildfires were too easily started
in tinder-dry forests.

Kelly shoved her laptop into her briefcase. Maybe she could work outside in the café
patio garden, she thought, as she grabbed her coffee mug and headed for the cottage
front door. First she wanted to check on Malcolm, then go into Lambspun and meet Cassie.

She spotted Hal Nelson’s truck as soon as she walked toward the driveway. Nelson was
measuring a large sheet of fiberboard that was balanced on two sawhorses beside the
driveway. Kelly glanced around but didn’t see Malcolm.

“Hey, Hal,” she greeted as she approached. “I imagine you heard the awful news over
the weekend.”

Nelson looked up from the fiberboard. “I sure did, Kelly. The newspaper only said
a man was found dead in his car. But when I read it was ‘near the corner of Lemay
and Lincoln avenues,’ I called Burt to see what he knew. Burt filled me in.”

“I hate to say it, Hal, but it sounds like someone took their revenge on Jared Rizzoli.”

Nelson stared at her solemnly. “You’re right, Kelly, and I think he had it coming.”

Although a little surprised by Nelson’s blunt comment, Kelly had to agree. “After
everything I’ve read and heard for the last week, I think you’re right. It isn’t hard
to imagine one of Rizzoli’s many victims taking revenge on him.” She glanced toward
the garage. “Is Malcolm working inside? I was wondering how he was doing. I confess
when I first learned that Rizzoli was murdered, I thought about Malcolm. And that
angry confrontation he had with Rizzoli the other day.”

Nelson looked away. “Well, that is a problem, especially now. I just learned this
morning that Malcolm fell off the wagon the same night Rizzoli was killed. Apparently
Malcolm was found drunk Saturday morning on the river trail over there.” He pointed
across the golf course to the stretch of the Poudre River Trail that Kelly knew so
well, having run along that same trail countless times since she’d come to Fort Connor.

“Oh, no!” she said, shocked. “It was all because of their argument. It’s gotta be.
Malcolm looked so . . . so beaten down after that.”

Nelson’s mouth twisted. “That’s because he was. Beaten down and kicked to the side
like a piece of trash.”

“Good Lord,” Kelly worried out loud. “Have the police questioned Malcolm yet?”

“Not yet. I went over to see him at the Mission this morning before I came here. Apparently
the guy who found Malcolm Saturday morning took him to the Mission, and they called
the folks at AA that had been counseling him. They came over to take care of him.”

“Thank goodness for that. But it’s only a matter of time before someone tells the
police they saw Malcolm in an argument with Rizzoli. Think about all the people who
witnessed it when they were sitting outside.” She gestured toward the garden patio.
“The detectives will be crawling over poor Malcolm once they find out about his argument
with Rizzoli.”

Nelson glanced toward the garden. “Yeah, you’re right about that. I guess anybody
who had a disagreement with that bastard will be questioned.”

That comment brought the other unpleasant image from the back of Kelly’s mind. “And
that means my friend Barbara will be questioned, too. She had an angry argument with
Rizzoli in front of a whole bunch of people out here. And if that wasn’t bad enough,
I heard that Barbara went to Rizzoli’s seminar that night and confronted him again!
In front of a couple hundred people. Security guards had to remove her and threatened
to call the police.” Kelly frowned. “Brother, now that I’m repeating all of that,
it sounds like Barbara may be in worse trouble than Malcolm. She confronted Rizzoli
twice
.”

The sound of a vehicle coming down the driveway caught her attention, and Kelly turned
to see a blue van pull into a parking spot on the gravel only a few feet away from
them. The van’s door slid open, and Malcolm stepped out.

“Well, well, I was hoping that he would come in today,” Nelson said, with an approving
nod. “I told Malcolm that he still had a job with me if he wanted it. Looks like one
of the Mission staffers dropped him off. Hey, Malcolm.” Nelson beckoned him over.

Kelly started to back away, not wanting Malcolm to feel any more uncomfortable than
he probably already did. She waved at Malcolm as she turned toward the sidewalk. “Hey,
there, Malcolm. Hal told me you guys are coming into the final stretch on this project.
It’s looking good.”

Malcolm caught her glance and sent Kelly a little wave as he walked to meet Nelson.
Kelly hurried away down the sidewalk, wanting to give the two men some time to talk
in private. She ran up the steps and into Lambspun, pausing as she entered the foyer.

New yarns peeked out from wicker baskets. Strawberry reds, lime sherbet green, blueberry
blue, cotton candy pink, and lemon pie yellow.

Stroking the silky fibers in one basket, Kelly moved into the central yarn room. New
yarns were here as well, begging to be touched. Silks, cottons, bamboo.

As she moved farther into the room, Kelly glimpsed Mimi and a young girl at the other
end of the knitting table.
Cassie
. It had to be, Kelly thought. And it looked like they were knitting. Or rather, Mimi
was watching Cassie knit. Kelly moved around the round maple table in the middle of
the room, stroking several soft skeins of pink bamboo yarn. However, her attention
was focused on the library table in the main room and the instruction taking place
there. Mimi was speaking quietly to Cassie, so Kelly couldn’t really hear what she
was saying. Kelly assumed Mimi was telling Cassie the same things she’d told Kelly
when she was struggling through her first efforts.

Kelly tried to get a glimpse of Cassie’s face, but couldn’t. Cassie was leaning over
obviously concentrating on the knitting, and her shoulder-length dark brown hair fell
forward, hiding her face. Kelly stepped closer to the entrance to the main room, and
Mimi glanced up and spotted her standing there.

“Why, hello, Kelly!” she said with a bright smile. “Come on in and join us. I’m teaching
Pete’s niece Cassie how to knit.”

Cassie quickly looked up, and Kelly saw that Burt and Jennifer had not exaggerated.
Two big blue eyes stared out at her. Kelly saw curiosity and surprise, and maybe a
little bit of wariness, looking out.

“Well, hello, Cassie,” Kelly greeted, giving her a friendly smile. “I’m a friend of
Mimi and Burt and Pete and Jennifer. They told me you were coming.”

“Hi,” Cassie replied in a soft voice, then glanced back to her knitting needles.

Kelly walked over to the table and sat on the opposite side across from Mimi and Cassie.
“Mimi’s an excellent teacher. She taught me how to knit when I first came here a few
years ago,” Kelly said as she reached into her briefcase and brought out the small
fabric bag where she kept the baby hat she was knitting.

“That’s right, Cassie, and Kelly’s an excellent knitter now,” Mimi declared, then
pointed toward one of Cassie’s needles. “That’s it, slide the needle to the left of
the stitch, dear.”

Kelly watched Cassie obediently slide the right needle beneath the stitch on her left
needle. Boy, did Kelly remember doing that. Had it really been four years ago when
she first came to Lambspun?

“Mimi’s being kind, Cassie,” Kelly said as she drew the yellow-and-white yarn and
partially finished hat from the little taffeta bag Lisa had given her for Christmas.
“I was a lousy student. I kept arguing with the yarn.”

Cassie looked at Kelly, puzzled. Kelly could tell she didn’t know whether Kelly was
kidding or not. “How do you argue with yarn?” she asked, a tiny hint of a smile peeking
out.

Kelly picked up her stitches where she left off on the small hat. “Ohhhh, I’d get
mad when the stitches didn’t want to slide off the needle. I’d have to convince them
to slide off. Coax them, you know.” Kelly smiled at her. “Like, ‘You want to leave
the needle. You want to go. You want to go. That’s it. Slide off, slide off.’”

Cassie’s hint of a smile grew. “Did it work?”

Kelly shook her head. “Nope. They ignored me. They tightened up and sat there. Drove
me crazy.” She pointed to the five rows of stitches on Cassie’s needle. “Look, your
stitches are more obedient than mine. You’ve got five rows. You’re better than I was
already.”

“Kelly loves to exaggerate,” Mimi said with a smile. “I keep telling her how good
she is, but she doesn’t believe me.”

“I suffer from low yarn self-esteem,” Kelly said, then gave a dramatic sigh. “Dr.
Mimi says it’s not fatal, but I do have attacks every now and then.”

Cassie gestured to the baby hat. “You must be good. That looks really pretty. Do you
have a baby?”

Kelly had to laugh. “No, I don’t. I’m knitting this for one of Mimi’s charities. Lots
of knitters around town knit hats for the babies and young children who have to come
to the hospital for cancer treatment. The hats help keep up their body temperature
level. We lose most of our body heat through our heads. Did you know that?”

Cassie’s big blue eyes widened even more. “Wow, I didn’t know that.”

“Cassie, you’re doing really, really well,” Mimi said. “You’ll have this cute scarf
done in no time. And if you’d like, I can show you some of those ribbon yarns that
knit up real skinny. You can use them for belts or little scarves.”

Cassie looked over Kelly’s head into the central yarn room. “You mean like some of
those hanging out there?”

“Why, yes!” Mimi chirped, scooting back her chair. “Let me bring some of them over
here.” She scurried into the adjoining room where several summery scarves hung from
the ceiling.

Kelly took that moment to lean over the table and asked, “How’s it going, Cassie?
You settling in over at Pete and Jennifer’s?”

Cassie gave a little shrug. “Yeah, kind of. It’s different.”

“Feels kind of funny, doesn’t it? I moved around a lot as a kid because my dad’s job
kept assigning him to different states. I remember how funny it felt coming into a
new place.”

Cassie glanced up. “Yeah, it does. Did you have to go to different schools?”

Kelly nodded. “Lots of them. Sometimes we’d only be in a city two years, then we’d
have to move again.”

Cassie’s eyes widened even more. “Wow. That must have been hard.”

Kelly gave a little shrug of her own. “Yeah, it was. I was always having to make new
friends.” She smiled. “It taught me how to meet new people.”

“How’d you do that?”

“Actually, it’s easy. You just walk up to them and smile and say ‘hi.’ That usually
worked. And playing sports helped, too. I’d join the school teams, and that way I
met a lot of girls my age. I played softball all the way through high school.”

“Wow, you must have been good.” Cassie had let the knitting drop to her lap.

“I don’t know how good I was, but I sure had a lot of fun,” Kelly said, smiling. “Have
you ever played?”

“Yeah, a few times in school. I was never on a team.” Cassie returned her attention
to the scarf.

“You know, I’m coaching a bunch of girls your age this summer. Beginners’ softball
clinic. If you’re interested, I’d love to have you join the group. I’ve got nine girls
signed up so far. It’s not a team or anything, just real low-key. You know, relaxed,
having fun.”

Cassie looked over at Kelly with a dubious expression. “I don’t know if I’d be any
good.”

“Hey, it’s a beginners’ class. You can’t be any worse than the others. Nobody is gonna
be very good.” She gave a good-natured shrug. “You can give it a try and see how you
like it.”

Mimi bustled back into the room then, four colorful, ribbon-like skinny scarves dangling
from her hands. “I found several that you might like, Cassie. Several of my other
teenage knitters simply love these new yarns.” She spread the four jewel-colored creations
across the table in front of Cassie.

“Ooooh, these are so pretty,” Cassie said, fingering the ribbony yarns. “Are they
hard to make?”

“Not at all, dear,” Mimi said, picking up one of the scarves. “See, it’s the very
same stitch you’re doing now. The yarn makes it look different.”

Kelly watched Mimi explain, much the same way she had with Kelly four years ago. Calmly
reassuring. Just then, the glimpse of a white car slowly passing in the driveway caught
Kelly’s attention. She turned to get a better look. It wasn’t an ordinary white car.
This one had blue lettering.
FORT COLLINS POLICE.

Curious, Kelly set the baby hat aside and pushed back her chair, noticing that Cassie
was engrossed in examining the ribbon scarves. Kelly walked through the central yarn
room, past the adjoining room with the Mother Loom, and into the front room where
there were more and larger windows. She watched the police car pull into a parking
spot along the walkway. Two men in suits exited the car. Detectives, Kelly decided.

“Hey, Kelly,” Connie called to her from behind the front counter where she was ringing
up a customer’s order. “It looks like the cops have come back. Probably want to question
the builder guys outside.”