Authors: Maggie Sefton
“I know what you mean. All we can do is try to hang around with the good guys. And girls.”
“Like Steve and Marty and Greg and Pete, right?”
“Yeah. And Eric. He's a good guy, too,” Kelly added with a wink.
Cassie grinned. “Oh, yeah. Definitely a good guy.”
Steve
gulped down the last of his coffee. “I'll be up at that mountain property near Evergreen today and probably tomorrow. Got a meeting with the Rural Electric Cooperative representative. I'll stay over in Denver tonight, so don't wait up.” He leaned over and gave Kelly a quick kiss on the lips.
“You should go to our favorite steakhouse for dinner,” Kelly said before finishing off the yogurt cup.
“That's a great idea. I'll appreciate a good steak after talking all afternoon.” He rolled his eyes.
Kelly grinned. She knew Steve missed getting his hands on some wood and actually building something. “Hey, you can probably find something to do on that building site. Who's your foreman? Maybe he'll let you hammer some boards together.” She gave him a wink.
“Dutch is mother hen on this site,” Steve said, eyes
lighting up. “You're right. All these meetings are draining the life outta me.”
“Plus, you won't get to whack any balls tonight at the game. You'll be gone.”
Steve grimaced. “Yeah, darn it. I should be back for our last game, though. Don't want to miss that.”
“We'll plan on it.” Kelly tossed her empty yogurt cup in the trash. Then she walked over to Steve, leaned up, and gave him a real kiss. “Drive safely, okay? And watch out for crazed tourists hurrying home from vacation. They're starting to clog the roads already.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a smile as he backed away. “Count on it.”
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Kelly
admired the rows of knitted stitches on her white alpaca sweater. Looking good, she nodded to herself. Slowly adding the inches in length she needed. Then she reminded herself to buy another skein before Mimi ran out of that yarn.
She started another row, sliding the needles through the familiar movements. This last hour of uninterrupted knitting time had been very productive. Too often Kelly found that she would get distracted by other people's conversations and her knitting productivity would suffer. At least, that's how Megan phrased it.
The familiar sounds of chairs scraping backward on the wooden floor in the workroom next door told her that Rosa's knitting class was over. Kelly would not be alone for long.
Within a few moments, women began drifting in from the workroom and classroom area, chatting about their projects. Two of them settled at the table and continued their conversation. Kelly recognized the woman Geraldine whose cousin's daughter had had an unfortunate encounter with the recently deceased Neil Smith.
Geraldine sipped from one of Eduardo's iced drinks and glanced around the table. Clearly recognizing Kelly, she gave a smile. “Hello there, Kelly. How're you doing?”
“I'm trying to stay cool. That's why I'm here in the shop. These thick stucco walls really keep out the heat,” Kelly said as she slipped another stitch off her needles.
“Well, stucco only goes so far with summer heat. Air-conditioning is why I'm here,” Geraldine said with a laugh.
“Oh, yes,” her friend agreed with a nod, fingers continuing to knit the scarf that folded down into her lap.
“The only good thing we can say about August heat is that it's not as hot as July,” Kelly added.
Kelly and the others knitted quietly for a couple of minutes, then Geraldine's friend spoke up. “Please let me know if anything more happens with your cousin's son, Geraldine.”
“I will. I'm trying not to worry,” Geraldine said in a quiet voice.
Kelly's ears perked up at that. “Is your cousin's son all right, Geraldine?” Kelly asked, trying to phrase her question as carefully as she could.
Geraldine shook her head. “I don't know. I surely hope so. The police came to my cousin's house this week to question Reggie about Neil Smith. I'm sure they'd heard about
his run-in with Smith a year ago after that lowlife assaulted Reggie's sister, Mary. Reggie told them that he hadn't seen Neil Smith.”
Kelly could hear the worry and anxiety in Geraldine's voice. “That's good, Geraldine. That way the police won't think Reggie is involved.”
Geraldine chewed her lip for a second. “I'm not sure about that. Reggie confessed to me that he had actually run into Neil Smith one night recently, and they got into another argument. All about what he did to Mary. Of course, everyone in the bar witnessed it.”
“Uh-oh,” her friend exclaimed.
Kelly noticed Geraldine's expression. “Something's still bothering you, isn't it, Geraldine?”
Geraldine nodded. “Yes. I'm . . . I'm afraid that Reggie may not be telling me the truth. He acted really nervous when he was talking to me. Now I'm wondering if maybe Reggie did something rash. Maybe he followed Smith. I don't know.”
Kelly watched the anxiety move across Geraldine's face. “Now I understand why you're so worried.” She paused. “Have you told anyone else about this, Geraldine?”
“I'm going to tell Burt. Maybe he can talk to Reggie. I can tell Reggie is scared, but the police are bound to find out about that argument in the bar. He needs to talk to them first.”
“I agree. Check with Burt. He may be out doing errands for Mimi this morning, but he should return soon.” The familiar music on her cell phone sounded, signifying an incoming call. She glanced at the screen and recognized Don
Warner's name. “Gotta take this call, Geraldine. Burt should be here soon,” she said as she quickly rose from the table. Heading toward the front door and the privacy of outside, Kelly clicked on. “Hello there, Don. How's it going with your troops?”
Don Warner's laughter sounded. “I'm not certain any of them are disciplined enough to be called âtroops' but they're efficient enough.”
Kelly pushed through the heavy front door and aimed for the empty chair in the front shaded seating area. “Ooooo, damning with faint praise. You are a harsh taskmaster, Don.”
This time Warner's laughter was so loud, Kelly had to hold the phone away from her ear.
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“Hey
there. How's Greg doing?” Kelly asked over the phone while she slid a tray of sliced beef from her fridge's meat compartment.
“He's feeling better, thank goodness,” Lisa answered. “The physical therapy is going better now that his bruised and battered muscles are starting to heal.”
“That's good. Now things will go easier. He needs a break.” Kelly placed the mustard then the mayonnaise on the kitchen counter then reached for the plastic container of sliced roast beef.
“Boy, doesn't he ever,” Lisa agreed. “He's trying as hard as he can, I can tell. Beads of sweat pop out on his forehead during every one of those PT sessions.”
Kelly opened a loaf of dark rye and smeared a healthy amount of mayo on one slice of bread, then smeared
mustard on the other slice. “Wow, he really is working. It wasn't that hard when I had to rehab my ankle if you remember.”
“Yeah, poor Greg has to rehab a broken leg as well as a broken arm. I confess I've never had any patients with that many injuries for several years. Years ago I had a patient who'd been in a car wreck. That was bad.”
“I bet. Are those other therapists a little intimidated with your sitting right there, watching them?” Kelly's knife cut out two bright red tomato slices then she placed them and the roast beef on the bread and closed up her sandwich. She took a big bite and savored while she listened to Lisa chuckle over the phone.
“No, they're not. We've all known each other for years, and have been in therapy practice for the same length of time, just about.”
Kelly took her time swallowing. “I didn't drop the connection. I just took a bite of my roast beef sandwich. Steve's staying over in Denver for another meeting on that mountain property tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Tomatoes looked divine last time I was in the store.”
Kelly picked up on that admission. “Lisa, when's the last time you ate something?”
“Ummmm, a couple of hours ago. I'm good.”
“Sure you are. Tell me what you ate. Don't lie.”
Lisa's soft laughter came over the phone. “You're beginning to sound like Megan. Megan in Mom Mode, that is.”
“Don't try to deflect my attention. It won't work,” Kelly warned then took another bite of her delicious sandwich.
Lisa laughed louder. “Okay, okay. I had a bag of peanuts
from the hospital vending machine. And before that, I had a bag of potato chips. Satisfied?”
After a slight delay for savoring, Kelly countered, “Not in the slightest. You head over here right now and have one of these great sandwiches. Visiting hours are probably over anyway.”
“I'm okay, reallyâ”
“Don't argue with me.”
Lisa gave a short laugh. “All right, all right. I'm too tired to argue with you.”
“Wise decision. Besides, you get to pat Carl when you come. Rubbing doggy heads makes everyone feel better in stressful times.”
“Scientific study, huh? What's the big guy doing?”
“Right now, he's sitting and staring at me eating this roast beef sandwich. Obviously hoping I'll drop a morsel. Not a prayer, Carl.” She took another bite and watched Carl's attention never deviate from the sandwich.
Carl, for his part, exercised remarkable restraint. Patiently watching the delicious-looking sandwich disappear.
Oh, no!
It was almost gone. Carl's anxious expression intensified. Rottweiler eyebrows crowded together in consternation.
“Awwww, give the big guy a morsel, you old meanie,” Lisa scolded.
“You want a taste? Do you, Carl?” Kelly asked, then pulled off a piece of roast beef from the tray. Steve wasn't here to watch her blatant spoiling of The Dog.
Carl jumped up from his sitting position, stubby tail wagging. He could tell his pitiful pose had worked. Food was forthcoming!
“Here you go. But first, sit.” She held the half slice in the air.
Carl's bottom hit the floor quickly. Head up, long pink Rottie tongue licking his lips in anticipation.
“Making him work for it, huh?” Lisa teased.
“You bet. Good dog, Carl. Here you go.” And she dropped the luscious piece of roast beef into Carl's waiting mouth. He closed his eyes, clearly enjoying the treat.
“Okay, I'll come over for a few minutes for a sandwich and pat Carl. Then I'd better get back and try to study a little before I go to bed.”
“Sounds good. I'll pour us a glass of wine.”
“Better not. I'll never get any studying done then,” Lisa said with a laugh.
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Kelly
pulled her car into an open parking space in front of the Lambspun shop. Midmorning and she'd finished a conference call with Don Warner's staff and checked on an investment property for Arthur Housemann. Not much was happening in either business. Probably the late summer August doldrums attacking. Kids getting ready to head back to school and school shopping were the prevalent activities on most people's minds.
Parents and merchants. Schoolteachers and sports coaches. Everyone was gearing up for a whole new school year. Football games were scheduled. Other fall sports teams had also started practice in mid-August. Cassie's softball team and Eric's soccer team had games scheduled twice this coming
week. Friday night football games were on everyone's calendar. Let the season begin!
Kelly stepped out of her car and flipped the lock. Spying Burt walk out of the garden café area, she called out, “Hey, Burt, how's it going?”
Burt beckoned her over as he headed for his parked car. “Hi, Kelly. I'm glad I caught you. Geraldine told me all about her cousin's son Reggie yesterday. She said she'd spoken to you earlier. I thought you'd be interested to hear that Dan and his partner went to talk to Geraldine yesterday evening after she'd gone home.”
“Oh, good, good. I could tell she wanted to get all that off her chest, even though it involved Reggie. She told him he should speak to the police first. But I guess he didn't.”
“Well, that's hard for most people to do, Kelly. Especially hard for a young guy who had to admit he'd gotten into an argument with Neil Smith at a bar. He knew he'd get on the detectives' âwatch' list after that.”
Kelly watched Burt's expression. “What do you think so far, Burt? It certainly sounds damning. Geraldine admitted she's worried that Reggie actually went after Smith with his car.”
“I don't know, Kelly. We'll have to wait and see what Dan thinks. He'll be questioning Reggie. I could tell that Geraldine was really worried about him. She said he's only in his mid-twenties, so he's young. Sometimes young guys do impulsive things. Reggie certainly had a good reason to be angry at Neil Smith, considering Smith assaulted Reggie's sister.”
Kelly remembered something else she wanted to ask Burt. “Have the police had a chance to talk to the few businesspeople along that street? I think there are also a couple of small older houses along that stretch of street, too.”
“Matter of fact, Dan did say he sent a couple of his officers out to canvass that entire street again. Starting with the corner where Greg was hit and farther back along that stretch to where Neil Smith's body was found. They also did another peripheral check around the location. So far, Dan said only a handful of people admitted being in the vicinity that night. And none of them saw or heard anything. Just like the others that were interviewed earlier.”
“I'm not surprised. Not many people actually live along there anymore. In fact, if I remember Fort Connor history correctly, the last time a lot of people actually lived there was probably at the turn of the century. The twentieth century, that is. We did turn another century a few years ago.”
Burt chuckled. “You're right. After all, it used to be a quasi-industrial area with the flour mill and some other small businesses bordering it. Most of the people the police interviewed said they were walking to their cars that were parked closer to the flour mill or other businesses. Some worked on that new construction. I do recall some old-timers who lived in a few of those tiny houses along Cherry Street, near the corner. But those buildings were torn down last year with the start of the new construction on Taylor Street and Abercrombie.”