Skein of the Crime

Table of Contents

 

 

KNIT ONE, KILL TWO
NEEDLED TO DEATH
A DEADLY YARN
A KILLER STITCH
DYER CONSEQUENCES
FLEECE NAVIDAD
DROPPED DEAD STITCH
SKEIN OF THE CRIME

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This book is an original publication of The Berkley Publishing Group.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

 

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Copyright © 2010 by Margaret Conlan Aunon.

 

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

 

Sefton, Maggie.

eISBN : 978-1-101-43464-2

1. Flynn, Kelly (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Knitters (Persons)—Fiction. 3. Women college students—Crimes against—Fiction. 4. Fort Collins (Colo.)—Fiction. I. Title.

PS3619.E37S57 2010

813’.6—dc22 2009052468

 

 

 

Once again, I would like to thank my friend Natasha York for her advice and consultation. Natasha is a fellow knitter and an officer with the Larimer County Police Department here in Fort Collins, Colorado. She was very helpful in explaining how illegally obtained prescription drugs wind up on the recreational drug scene.

And a special “thank-you” to my daughter, Serena, a Doctor of Internal Medicine, who explained the various opiate narcotic prescription painkillers and the dangers of abuse. Serena and I have had “Killer Consults” for as long as I’ve been writing mysteries.

Last, I must point out that the “Golden Lake” resort mentioned in the novel is based on the real Colorado resort Gold Lake, which is every bit as beautiful and peaceful as I’ve described.

Kelly Flynn—
financial accountant and part-time sleuth, refugee from East Coast corporate CPA firm

Steve Townsend—
architect and builder in Fort Connor, Colorado, and Kelly’s boyfriend

Jennifer Stroud—
real estate agent, part-time waitress

 

Lisa Gerrard—
physical therapist

 

Megan Smith—
IT consultant, another corporate refugee

 

Marty Harrington—
lawyer, Megan’s boyfriend

 

Greg Carruthers—
university instructor, Lisa’s boyfriend

 

Pete Wainwright—
owner of Pete’s café in the back of Kelly’s favorite knitting shop, House of Lambspun

 

 

 

Mimi Shafer—
Lambspun shop owner and knitting expert, known to Kelly and her friends as “Mother Mimi”

 

Burt Parker—
retired Fort Connor police detective, Lambspun spinner-in-residence

 

Hilda and Lizzie von Steuben—
spinster sisters, retired school teachers, and exquisite knitters

Curt Stackhouse—
Colorado rancher, Kelly’s mentor and a dvisor

 

Jayleen Swinson—
Alpaca rancher and Colorado Cowgirl

 

Connie and Rosa—
Lambspun shop personnel

 

 

Kelly Flynn navigated her car out of the shopping center parking lot and merged into Fort Connor’s thinning late-night traffic. Only a total lack of coffee would force her to stop by the grocery store on the way home from a post-game celebration at her softball team’s favorite Old Town café. It was nearly midnight, but some things were too important to worry about inconvenience. Coffee was at the top of that short list.

Her cell phone sounded from the seat beside her where she’d tossed it. Kelly pulled to the right lane and slowed down before answering. Her friend Jennifer’s voice came over the line.

“Good, you’re still up. Did the game run long tonight?”

“Not really, but we went to our favorite café afterwards. I’m driving home now. What’s up? Why’re you calling so late?”

“I’m doing Mimi a favor. She tried calling you guys but forgot you and Megan and Lisa were all playing ball tonight, so she called me. Mimi needs help with one of those beginner knitting classes at Lambspun tomorrow morning. You know, the summer ones with guest teachers. Mimi will be out of the shop in the morning, and Rosa can’t spare time away from customers to help, so Mimi asked if one of you guys might be able to. What’s your schedule like? The class is at nine and runs an hour, so it doesn’t take long.”

Kelly ran through her mental day planner. No outside appointments tomorrow, just regular client work. A former corporate CPA, Kelly could now arrange her schedule at will. Her new consulting business was thriving. “Sure, I can manage that, as long as I’ll be a helper. I’m not qualified to teach classes.”

“Don’t worry. Barbara Macenroe is teaching. She’s really experienced, too. Have you met her? She’s a nurse over at one of the doctor’s clinics near the hospital. Tall, big-boned gal.”

“That doesn’t sound familiar, so I don’t think I’ve met her yet. Does she come to the shop often?”

“I’ve only seen her late in the afternoons when I’ve dropped by after the office, so you may have missed her. But she’s started teaching classes at the shop, helping take the load off Mimi. Anyway, she’s a real ‘take charge’ sort, so you won’t have to worry. You’ll be her assistant, that’s all. I’d do it, but it’s a morning class and I’m working in the café, so I can’t.”

“Sure. Tell Mimi I’ll be glad to help,” Kelly said as she turned onto another large avenue. A Big Box store and its sprawling shopping center shone neon bright ahead. “How come you’re still up? Don’t tell me you and Pete were working a catering job this late.”

“Okay, then I won’t tell you,” Jennifer joked. “Yeah, we were both beat by the time we finished. I just got out of relaxing in the tub. Now I’m heading to bed.”

Kelly angled into the left-turn lane. “Me, too, as soon as I get home.”

“Steve still in Denver?”

“Yeah. He’s starting to stay down there a couple of nights a week. He’s gotten some part-time work for another company.”

“After working all day for the architect firm? That’s rough.”

“Yeah, it is. He barely has time to talk, let alone sleep,” Kelly said, remembering the brief conversation she’d had with her boyfriend earlier that evening. “At least he’ll avoid that morning commute from Fort Connor to Denver. It’s beyond awful. I had to get into that rush-hour mess last week when I was heading out to meet my new client near Brighton. Man, it took me nearly two hours to get there.”

“I know. I went to a regional real estate meeting a month ago in Denver and allowed over two hours so I wouldn’t be late. But I still got there with only ten minutes to spare.”

Kelly turned onto the street that bordered her favorite knitting shop, Lambspun. “I hear you. I don’t know how Steve stands it.” She waited for cars to pass, then turned onto the gravel driveway that ran between the shop and her cottage beside the golf course. Ablaze with lights, the little cottage was the only bright light in the dark. Kelly didn’t like coming home to a dark house, especially an empty dark house.

“Steve doesn’t have a choice, Kelly. He’s only doing what he has to to get through this terrible housing market. I hope things start to improve in a few months. It’s brutal out there.”

“Yeah, I know, and it doesn’t look like it’s getting any better.”

“Listen, I’m gonna go to sleep. See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jen.” Kelly clicked off her cell phone, then nosed her car into its space in front of the cottage she had inherited three years ago after her aunt Helen’s murder. The car’s high beams bathed the front of the beige stucco and red-tiled roof cottage in bright light. Kelly heard her Rottweiler Carl barking his “welcome home” bark in the backyard. Carl could always tell the sound of her engine and knew when she returned.

Grabbing her bag, she exited the car and headed down the walk to the steps of her snug cottage. Once inside, Kelly opened the patio door where Carl stood, not so patiently, barking to come in and join her.

“Hey, Carl, how’re you doing?” she said as Carl bounded inside, barely pausing for a head pat before heading toward the kitchen. Maybe forgotten food crumbs lingered.

Glancing outside to the concrete patio, Kelly searched for Carl’s water dish. “Carl, did you drag your water dish into the bushes again? I swear, you must be dying of thirst by now.”

She stepped out onto the patio and scanned the ground for the blue dish when a slight movement to the left caught the periphery of her eye. Turning quickly, Kelly was startled to see a young woman standing only six feet away from her on the patio.

Kelly instinctively jumped back, her heart racing double time. “What the hell?” she cried, staring at the young woman standing in the dark. “Who are
you
?”