Close Knit Killer (10 page)

“I think you’re right, Connie,” Kelly replied, her attention focused outside. The
two detectives were standing and talking with Hal Nelson. She looked around for Malcolm
but didn’t see him.
Uh-oh,
she thought, hoping he hadn’t taken off for the river trail again.

“Is that the police outside?” the customer asked as she took her package from Connie.

“Afraid so,” Connie replied in a matter-of-fact voice. “Did you see those news stories
about a dead man who was found in a parked car? Well, that was here. And it turns
out the guy was
murdered
.” Connie’s voice dropped scary-movie low.

“Ohhhh, my!” the older woman exclaimed, eyes wide as saucers as she stared toward
the windows.

Kelly kept her mouth shut, not wanting to add to local gossip any more than necessary.
Thank goodness Mimi wasn’t anywhere around to hear Connie’s dramatic remarks.

“Hey, Kelly, I betcha the cops have come to question that other builder guy. You know,
the one with the beard. The skinny one. He got into a fight with Rizzoli, remember?
Right outside in the driveway! You were standing there, too. They were yelling at
each other. And that night Rizzoli was killed!” Another dramatic tone.

“Good heavens!” the older woman said, hand to her face now, clearly horrified.

Kelly sighed inside, searching for patience, and found a little. “Yes, I was there,”
was all she said, not wanting to add to an already blazing imaginary fire.

Meanwhile, she continued watching Hal Nelson and the detectives talking. Nelson pointed
toward the remodeled building and walked toward it. A few seconds later, Nelson reappeared
with Malcolm by his side. Kelly watched a wide-eyed Malcolm nod and speak to the detectives,
who were obviously asking him questions. One detective had his notebook out and was
scribbling notes.

Hal Nelson stood right beside Malcolm while the detectives continued to question.
Kelly watched Malcolm glance down at the ground and shift side to side, his hands
in his work pants pockets as he spoke. He definitely looked uncomfortable as the detectives
kept asking questions. One of them gestured toward the golf course . . . or beyond.
She figured they had to ask Malcolm about his Friday night slide away from sobriety.
Oh, brother
.

Kelly couldn’t picture Malcolm killing Jared Rizzoli. Stabbing someone in the throat
was an act of anger. But, she reminded herself, she had witnessed Malcolm yelling
at Rizzoli in anger and helpless fury. Had he been angry enough to kill?

The two detectives stepped away from Malcolm and Hal Nelson. The one taking notes
closed his notebook as they walked along the walkway leading to the patio garden.
Kelly shifted her position to a tall window on the adjoining wall that looked out
into the garden behind the shop. Sure enough, the two detectives walked through the
garden flagstone pathway, amid curious stares of the lunchtime customers seated outside.

Burt appeared around the corner behind the front counter. Catching Kelly’s eye, he
beckoned, as he squeezed behind Connie and into the room. “Hey, Kelly, you should
go back to your cottage. The detectives are here questioning everyone who had seen
Rizzoli last week. They’ve just come into the café, so I imagine they’ll be knocking
on your cottage door soon.”

“Thanks for the heads-up, Burt.” Kelly started retracing her steps to the main knitting
room. “I’ll go over right now. Walk with me and let me know what you’ve learned from
these guys.”

“I haven’t spoken to them yet, but I’ll be curious what they ask you. So I’ll hang
around if you don’t mind,” Burt said as he followed after Kelly.

Kelly walked to the knitting table and gathered up her knitting project and her briefcase.
Cassie was already knitting with the ribbon yarn under Mimi’s attentive gaze.

“I have to go back to the cottage and make some business calls,” she said as she slipped
the briefcase’s shoulder strap over her shoulder. “I really enjoyed talking with you,
Cassie. Let me know if you want to go to the softball clinic with me tomorrow morning.
It’s at ten o’clock.”

“Okay, sure.” Cassie nodded.

“See you later, Kelly.” Mimi gave her a smile, then returned her attention to her
pupil.

Kelly grinned at Burt as they walked to the foyer. “Mimi’s positively in her element,”
Kelly said in a lowered voice.

“Ohhhh, yeah,” Burt said. “She’s been with Cassie all morning. We treated Cassie to
breakfast in the café so she could see Pete and Jennifer at work.” He chuckled. “She
was fascinated. And practically twisted her neck off watching Jennifer and Julie going
back and forth serving customers.”

Kelly pushed open the front door. “I got to talk with Cassie for a few minutes. Some
with Mimi, then alone. She’s a really nice kid. I told her about that beginners’ softball
clinic I’m teaching this summer. I think I told you about it. The kids are Cassie’s
age group, too. Just two mornings a week, so let me know if she wants to go. It’s
no problem for me to take her and bring her back to the shop.”

“I think it’s a great idea, Kelly,” Burt said as they went down the steps. “Let’s
see if Cassie wants to do it.”

As Kelly headed across the driveway, Burt beside her, she noticed one of the detectives
approach Hal Nelson again. Nelson then pointed toward Kelly, and the detective walked
her way.

“Good thing we came outside. I’m betting that detective is looking for you, Kelly.”

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the middle-aged man called to her as he approached. “Are you Kelly
Flynn?”

“Yes, I am. Are you with the Fort Connor Police? I noticed you asking questions earlier.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m Detective Geller. My partner Detective Lasky and I are investigating
the death of Jared Rizzoli over the weekend.”

Burt extended his hand. “I’m Burt Parker, formerly with the department. My wife operates
the knitting shop here.”

“Good to meet you, Mr. Parker. I’ve heard about you,” Geller said with a little smile.

“Something good, I hope,” Burt joked.

“Oh, yes.” Geller turned to Kelly. “Ms. Flynn, this is your residence, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir, it is. I inherited the cottage when my aunt died a few years ago.”

Geller opened his notebook and scribbled for a few seconds. “I’m sure you recall the
newspapers’ recent stories that Mr. Rizzoli was found in his car early Saturday morning
in this parking lot. Right over there beneath those trees.”

“Yes, I remember the café staff telling me about it when I came in on Saturday for
lunch.”

“Well, Detective Lasky is in the café now, asking the staff what they remember seeing
on the day Jared Rizzoli was last seen alive. I believe he was here earlier that Friday
afternoon on the day he was killed. And we were told that you had witnessed a confrontation
between Mr. Rizzoli and another man that same afternoon. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is,” Kelly answered, noticing Malcolm working outside next to Hal Nelson
now. Malcolm glanced her direction more than once. “I was walking over to the shop,
and I noticed two men yelling at each other. Since I knew one of the men, I went over
to see what was happening.”

“And what did you see?”

“Uhhhh, well, they kept yelling at each other.” Kelly hesitated to add more.

“Could you hear what they were saying?”

Kelly paused. She did not want to answer, but she had to. “Some of it. Malcolm, one
of the workers over there—”

“That would be Malcolm Duprey, who’s assisting Mr. Nelson with the remodel?”

She nodded. “Yes. Malcolm said that Rizzoli ruined his life.”

Geller scribbled away, and Kelly shot a quick glance to Burt. He nodded, encouraging
her. “What else did you hear?”

“Rizzoli called Malcolm a worthless piece of crap. And said that everything that’s
happened to him was his own fault. Rizzoli said he paid his debt to society.”

Geller looked up from his notebook. “Did you see one of the men place his hands on
the other?”

Kelly sighed. “Yes. Malcolm jabbed his finger into Rizzoli’s chest. Rizzoli slapped
his hand away, then he pushed Malcolm back. Hard. So hard, Malcolm fell down backwards
to the ground. Hal Nelson came to help him up.”

Geller diligently recorded it all in his notebook. “Then what?”

“Rizzoli stomped off to his car, and drove away. Hal Nelson and I helped Malcolm into
the café for some coffee and food. He looked pretty shaken up.”

“I see.” Geller scribbled some more, then flipped his notebook closed. “Thank you,
Ms. Flynn. You’ve been really helpful. If we have any more questions, we’ll be in
touch.”

“I’m glad I was able to help, Detective Lasky,” Kelly dutifully answered. But she
wasn’t telling the truth. She felt awful. Her words made Malcolm out to be a prime
suspect in the murder of Jared Rizzoli.

“It was nice meeting you both. Have a good day,” Lasky said as he walked back toward
the café.

Burt stared after him. “You did the right thing, Kelly. You know you did.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wish I didn’t feel so bad.”

Ten

Ke
lly
pulled open the front door to the café and stepped inside. She took a deep breath,
inhaling the heavenly breakfast aromas filling the air. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs
with cheese, spicy sausage sizzling on the grill, omelets stuffed full of veggies
and oozing yummy cheese, rich gravy and biscuits, Pete’s special salsa, huevos rancheros,
and more bacon.

Breakfast
. Kelly’s favorite meal. And no one did breakfast like cook Eduardo. Master of the
grill. She inhaled another scent. Ooooh, was that cinnamon? Pete had been baking his
cinnamon rolls again! Okay, that settled it. She had to have breakfast. Again. Her
early yogurt and fruit just didn’t cut it when faced with heartier breakfasts. No
contest.

She spied a small table along the windows near the grill and headed that way. “Pete’s
been baking again. I can smell those cinnamon rolls,” she called to Jennifer as she
dropped her briefcase on the opposite chair and took a seat.

“Ohhhh, yes,” Jennifer replied as she walked over, coffeepot in hand. “I take it you’ll
want one or two?”

“Absolutely. And bring a slice of fresh melon, too. That way I can fool myself into
thinking I’m eating healthy.”

“Gotcha.” Jennifer poured a black stream into Kelly’s cup. “Let me refill your mug.
It’s probably empty.” Jennifer reached into Kelly’s briefcase and pulled out the oversized
mug, refilled it, then returned it to Kelly. “Oh, Cassie said to tell you she’d like
to check out that softball clinic you’re teaching. She actually looked kind of interested.”

Kelly sniffed the strong aroma.
Ahhhh
. “That’s great. Let’s see if she likes it.” She smiled up at Jennifer. “I got to
talk to her a little at the knitting table yesterday. She’s a cute kid. She worried
that she might not be very good at softball. I told her that nobody was going to be
any good because they were all beginners. And they’re all her age.”

“Thank you for doing that, Kelly. You’re a sweetheart. You and Mimi both did a lot
to make her feel comfortable yesterday. Of course, Cassie was entranced by the shop
and all the yarns. She’d never seen anything like that, she said. And of course, Mother
Mimi had her knitting a scarf in no time.” She laughed softly.

“Oh, yeah, I saw Mother Mimi in action. She is loving every minute of this.” Kelly
took a sip. “Burt told me that Mimi had spent all morning with Cassie.”

“I know, and you came in. Then Megan dropped by in the afternoon, Mimi said.”

“Perfect. Were they at the knitting table?”

“I was at the real estate office, but Pete said Megan was showing Cassie something
with the yarn when he came in there.”

Kelly caught Jennifer’s eye. “Sounds good. Tell me, how’s she settling in at the house?
It’s only been a couple of days.”

“Cassie’s been doing great. We’re all getting used to the house, so we’re adjusting
together.” Jennifer laughed. “This house is even bigger than Ben’s in Denver. Cassie’s
room was tiny there, so she’s crazy about this bedroom. Pete promised her they could
bring the rest of her books up here. I’m hoping Steve wouldn’t mind swinging by Ben’s
one night and bringing up the bookcase in his truck. Pete could drive down and meet
him.”

“I’m sure Steve wouldn’t mind. He told me he felt bad about not being able to do anything
with Cassie because he’s working in Denver.”

Jennifer gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t be silly. Cassie’s sleeping on Steve’s extra
furniture and bed linens. He’s done a lot. Tell him I said that, too. I’d better get
this to the grill or you won’t eat. Are you gonna work here this morning?”

“Just until I have to leave for the softball fields. Tell Cassie I’ll come into the
shop when it’s time to go. What’s she up to? Knitting with Mimi again?”

“Actually, Mimi handed her off to Burt this morning. He’s showing Cassie the spinning
wheel. I’ll be back with your cinnamon roll in a minute.” Jennifer hurried off toward
the grill.

Kelly pulled her laptop out of her briefcase and started it up, waiting for the familiar
soft whirring noise. Circuits firing, getting ready. Spreadsheets and expense accounts
were easier with a yummy, buttery cinnamon roll. Heck, everything was better with
a cinnamon roll.

* * *

Kelly
looked up from the yellow-and-white yarn on her needles. Several more rows had appeared
now. “Why, hello, Madge,” Kelly greeted the elderly spinner when she walked into the
front room, empty now of customers. “Are you here to help Burt with his spinning class?”

“Hello, there, Kelly.” Madge’s thin face brightened with a smile. “I’ll be teaching
Burt’s class again. It looks like he’s giving a private lesson in the little alcove.”

Kelly grinned. “Oh, that’s Cassie. She’s Pete’s niece from Denver. Burt’s simply explaining
the wheel to her. She’ll be living with Pete and Jennifer this summer while her grandfather
recovers from heart surgery.”

“Ohhhh, yes. I heard about that,” Madge said, her expression saddening quickly. “She
looks like a sweet girl. She was certainly paying attention. Watching Burt’s fingers.
Watching the yarn.” Madge nodded. “Paying attention is the most important thing.”

“She pays attention, all right. I took her to a softball clinic I’m teaching this
summer for Parks and Recreation. We had a bunch of twelve-year-old girls. And Cassie
really paid attention. I noticed her watching me intently and the other girls. And
she did pretty well for a beginner. Her throws got better and better over the hour
and a half. And her catches were great.” Kelly looked up from the baby hat. “That’s
where paying attention pays off. You have to watch the ball all the way into the glove,
if that makes any sense.”

Madge smiled again. “Actually, it does, Kelly. I used to watch my husband play baseball
years and years ago. And he played catcher a lot. Keep your eye on the ball, he used
to say.” She glanced out the window.

Madge’s poignant recollection brought back a more recent memory. “How’s Barbara doing?
I haven’t seen her since last week. Is she all right, Madge?”

Madge let out a sigh. “Yes, she’s all right. Thank the Lord. And I pray she stays
all right. That horrible man upset her so last week. And she was settling down after . . .
well, after the weekend.”

Kelly read between Madge’s words. Clearly, Madge meant after Rizzoli died. “I’m glad
to hear Barbara’s doing okay.”

“She was doing okay until yesterday,” Madge said, mouth pinched in a frown. “When
those police detectives came to our house asking questions. Arrived right as I was
cooking dinner, too.”

Uh-oh
. Kelly had wondered when the police would question Barbara. Surely they’d had reports
of her earlier confrontation with Rizzoli. Malcolm wasn’t the only one to have an
angry run-in with the swindler. And surely the police had heard from the hotel security
guards who escorted Barbara away from Rizzoli’s public seminar. Of course detectives
showed up at Barbara’s door.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Madge,” Kelly tried to console. “I’m sure they were simply
following up on reports of Barbara’s argument with Rizzoli outside in the garden last
week.”

Madge’s mouth pinched more. “Yes, of course. They asked all sorts of questions about
that. And then they asked even more questions about that evening. When Barbara went
to that awful man’s seminar.” She wagged her head. “Why, oh, why, did she do that?
That horrible man would never admit to any wrongdoing! Certainly not in public. And
now poor Barbara has the police investigating
her
. It’s simply too terrible to think about.”

Kelly sought something comforting to say, but found nothing. Barbara had done exactly
what Madge said. Naturally, the police would be questioning her. Just as they had
Malcolm yesterday. But surely Barbara had not gone off on a bender like Malcolm. Not
steady, dependable Barbara.

“I’m so sorry, Madge. You’re right. It is simply terrible to think about. But surely
Barbara could tell police where she was the night Rizzoli was killed. That way she
wouldn’t be considered a suspect. Not like the poor man who works outside on the remodeling.
He had no explanation for his whereabouts that night.”

Madge looked over at Kelly. “I hate to say this, Kelly. But my poor Barbara doesn’t
have a very good explanation for her whereabouts that night, either.”

That comment took Kelly by surprise. She stared at Madge. “What do you mean? Did Barbara
go out that evening?”

“Yes, I’m afraid she did. And she didn’t return until later that evening. I asked
her where she’d been, and she said she drove up into the canyon. She needed to think.”
Madge’s worried expression increased.

Kelly couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Solid, dependable Barbara had chosen
that evening to drive into the canyon to think. The evening that Jared Rizzoli was
killed.
What the heck?
“Oh, no! That means she has no alibi, no explanation for her whereabouts when Rizzoli
was killed.”

Madge sat on the edge of the wooden chair at the winding table and stared at her hands
in her lap. “I’m simply heartsick about it, Kelly. Of all the times to drive up into
the canyon to think.” She wagged her head.

“Did the detectives ask Barbara where she was that evening?”

Madge nodded. “Of course. And naturally, Barbara had to tell them she was driving
in the canyon. One detective wrote down everything in his little notebook. The other
detective kept staring at Barbara. Poor thing, she started to mix up her words when
she tried to explain. I’m so concerned that the police will think Barbara had something
to do with that awful man’s death.”

Kelly reached over and placed her hand on Madge’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Madge. I’m sure
there will be a way to prove Barbara’s innocence.” Kelly wasn’t at all sure; in fact,
she doubted what she was saying. But she had no other comforting words to tell Madge.

Madge looked into Kelly’s eyes. “Do you really think so?”

Kelly swallowed. “I—I hope so, Madge,” was all she could say. “I really hope so. I
cannot see Barbara killing Rizzoli. I just can’t.”

Barbara gave a firm nod. “Well, I know she didn’t do it. I know my daughter.”

Spoken like a loyal, devoted mother, Kelly thought. “You’re right, Madge.”

Rosa walked into the front room then, several skeins of royal blue yarn in her hands.
“Hey, Madge, hey, Kelly. How’re you doing?” She dumped the skeins on the yarn winding
table. “Oh, Madge, a couple of your spinning students arrived early. They’re already
in the classroom.”

Madge glanced at her watch. “Well, now, I should go over then and see if they have
any questions before class. They probably will. All beginners do. That’s how we learn.”
She rose from the chair, taking her oversized yarn bag with her. “Take care, Kelly.
I’ll tell Barbara you asked about her.”

“Tell her we’ve missed seeing her here at the shop. Of course, I know she’s busy at
the doctor’s office.”

Kelly watched Madge leave the room, then glanced back at Rosa, who was loosening some
of the yarn skeins, then placed the wide loop over the yarn holders on the winding
table.

“How I wish Barbara had chosen a private place to have an argument with Jared Rizzoli,”
Kelly said. “Now police are investigating her like they are poor Malcolm.” She pointed
outside the window where she saw Hal Nelson and Malcolm lifting another large sheet
of fiberboard off the sawhorses.

Rosa turned to Kelly with an astonished expression. “Oh, surely not! How could they
possibly think she would kill that swindler?”

“They have to investigate everyone who had a conflict with him, and we all know that
Barbara’s conflict was very public. Lots of witnesses.”

“Well, then they’ll have to question all those people who were interviewed in the
newspaper this morning. Did you see that article? Several people Rizzoli swindled
were interviewed, and they all said they were glad he was dead. Police better check
them out, too, if they’re going to check out Barbara.” She pulled out a long twist
of blue yarn and attached it to the spindle of the ball winder on the other end of
the table. Then she began slowly turning the handle of the ball winder. Slowly, the
yarn began to wind around and around the spindle as the loop yarn holder released
more yarn to fill the spindle of the ball winder.

“I hope you’re right, Rosa. I certainly don’t want Barbara and Malcolm to be the only
suspects police have.” She noticed a familiar truck come down the driveway. A blond
driver. Jayleen. The truck pulled into a space near the remodeled building, and Jayleen
stepped out.

“Oh, good, Jayleen’s here. I called her this morning to let her know those alpaca
fleeces have been spun and dyed and are ready for her to pick up,” Rosa said, looking
out the window.

Kelly watched Jayleen talk with Nelson and Malcolm outside. Catching up on what had
been happening, no doubt. Kelly wondered whether Jayleen was one of those counselors
Nelson mentioned who were called to come to the Mission last Saturday. Kelly thought
about how disappointing it must have been for Jayleen and the others when they watched
people who had struggled and worked so hard to escape the pull of alcohol dependence . . .
only to see them slide back into its grip again.

Jayleen turned away from the two men and started walking toward the shop. Kelly placed
her halfway-finished baby hat on the upholstered chair arm and left her cozy knitting
spot in the corner, hastening to the front door to meet Jayleen. She wanted to get
her reactions to Malcolm’s lapse over the weekend.

Kelly pushed open the front door and Jayleen quickly stepped back, out of the way.
“Whoa, Kelly-girl, I was just heading inside to meet you.”

“I saw you talking with Hal and Malcolm, so I thought I’d meet you here. That way
we’ll have a little privacy.”

“Good idea,” Jayleen said, walking over to the recessed seating area located near
the front entrance. “Why don’t we take advantage of this break in the heat and talk
out here.” She pulled out a wrought-iron chair next to the patio table.