Skein of the Crime (17 page)

“I’m thinking the same thing, Patty.”

“Maybe they went to another party in Old Town and she overdosed there. There were a couple more parties going on that night.”

“You may be right, Patty. Who knows? Maybe Holly wandered away from that party and wound up on the river trail.”

“Could be. Listen, I’ve gotta run. I’m working at the steakhouse tonight. I’ll call you if I hear anything else.”

“Take care, Patty. Talk to you later.”

Kelly flipped off her phone and wound her way through the Mediterranean-style café toward the table with her friends. Meanwhile, she wondered how in the world she would pass this information along to Tommy. There was no way she would reveal Holly’s cheating. Tommy had had enough grief already in his young life.

“Was that Steve?” Lisa asked when Kelly returned to the table.

“I wish. No, it was business,” Kelly lied, deciding she didn’t want to share the soap-opera tragedy with the rest of her friends. Jennifer knew, and that was enough.

“Will Steve be able to make it to the ball field?” Megan asked after she drained her iced tea.

“I hope. But we won’t know until we see him,” Kelly said, then abruptly changed the subject. “Are we ready to attack the last Boulder bridal shop?”

A mixture of good-natured complaints greeted her suggestion.

 

 

 

“Okay, where’s the guacamole? I know I put it in here,” Lisa said as she pulled another beer bottle from the plastic cooler chest.

Kelly brandished a plastic container. “Found it.” She placed it in the middle of the picnic table that sat near the duck pond in the middle of the city’s largest ballpark. Four ball fields surrounded the lake like corners of a square.

Marty rushed up to the table. “Good. You brought chips and salsa.” Marty reached across the table, snagged a chip, then scooped it full of salsa.

“Okay, we’ve got colas, water, iced tea,” Megan counted off on her fingers. “No beer till after the game. We want you guys to win.”

“Hey, we can win with beer,” Greg said as he scooped a chip full of guacamole. “Lisa, did you bring tuna salad? We’ve gotta eat now before we start to warm up.”

“It’s in the green plastic tub,” Lisa said, moving a plate of hot brats.

“Did you guys find a dress for Megan?” Marty asked, devilish grin starting. “I think I already know the answer.”

“Of course not,” Lisa retorted. “She didn’t like
anything
.”

Kelly brought out a container of green salad. “No ruffles, no beads, no lace, no trains—”

“Trains? You leaving Marty already? Now, there’s the sensible Megan I know.” Greg tossed a handful of chips into his mouth.

“No, I’m just picky about wedding gowns, that’s all,” Megan responded, separating a pile of paper plates. “No froufrou or fancy stuff. Like long
trains
on the back of the gown.”

“I knew that,” Greg quipped, dipping a chip into salsa.

“Sure you did,” Lisa teased.

“That’s my girl. No froufrou.” Marty grinned then leaned over to give Megan a kiss.

“Hey, isn’t that Steve?” Lisa pointed toward the parking lot.

Kelly looked up. Sure enough, Steve was walking across the field. “Well, how about that. He must have finished early. I wasn’t sure if he would or not.”

Steve waved at his former teammates, and several ran up to greet him. Kelly’s heart tugged, watching Steve talk with his buddies. They wore their jerseys, and he was in jeans and a sweatshirt. No longer on the team.

“It doesn’t seem right,” Megan said quietly, voicing Kelly’s thoughts. “Steve not playing, you know.”

“Yeah, I know,” Kelly admitted out loud. “I know he wants to. He’s just not here enough.”

“Okay, guys, lighten up,” Marty advised. “Here he comes.”

Kelly didn’t wait. She walked over to Steve before he reached the table and gave him a welcome kiss. “I’m so glad you showed up. I was afraid you’d be swamped.”

“Well, I am, but I’m also hungry, so I figured I’d eat dinner with you guys, then go back to work.”

Half a loaf was better than none, Kelly recalled her aunt Helen saying more than once. “Hey, that’ll work,” she said cheerfully as they approached the table together to the welcome greetings of their friends.

“So
, four bridal stores and seven hours later, we’d covered Fort Connor, Loveland, and Boulder,” Kelly said to Lambspun shop assistant Connie. “Even with the lunch break in Boulder, we were shopped out by four o’clock.”

“And Megan didn’t see anything she liked?” middle-aged Connie asked, her surprise obvious.

Kelly took a deep sip from her refilled coffee mug before answering. “That’s right.”

“Wow, she must really be picky.” Connie beckoned for a customer to approach the counter.

Kelly backed away, making room for the customer who had three skeins of tweed alpaca wool yarn in her hands. “She’s not really being picky. Megan simply doesn’t like all the fancy decorations that are on most of the gowns. You know, fluffy tulle, ruffles, beads, and long trains. She calls it ‘froufrou.’ ”

Connie chuckled. “Well, that’s Megan for you. Definitely a no-froufrou girl.”

Kelly took another sip of coffee and headed for Mimi’s office. Since she’d finished her account work, she had the rest of the afternoon for errands. Having completed Steve’s winter hat, there were no unfinished knitting projects in her bag. A rare occurrence for her. She spotted Mimi in the classroom adjacent to the main knitting room.

“Hey, Mimi. Jennifer told me you’ve got a fiber retreat in the mountains coming up. Steve called and said he’s not coming home this weekend because he’s working a big project. Is it too late for me to join the retreat?”

“Of course not, Kelly,” Mimi answered. “I’d love to have you. You haven’t been on one of our retreats for a long time.”

“Well, Jen made this one sound extra special. You’re going to some lake resort in the mountains with heated thermal pools carved out of the rocks, I hear.”

“That’s right. And the lake is beautiful, surrounded by the mountains. Oh, and there’s a spa there, too, if you want a massage.”

“Oh, wow . . .” Kelly could almost feel herself relaxing already. “Count me in. What day is it? I’ve got to put it on my day planner.”

“This coming Friday. We’re carpooling from here, and we’re staying till Saturday noon. That way we’ll have plenty of time for felting and relaxation.”

“That sounds perfect. Where do I sign up?”

“Tell Connie at the front. She’ll get you registered.” Mimi eyed Kelly. “I was wondering when you’d want to try felting. I think you’ll enjoy it, Kelly.”

Kelly sipped her coffee. “It was Jen who gave me the idea. I’ve finished Steve’s winter hat, and it’s a little bit too big. She suggested it would look good felted. Plus it would be warmer that way. Warm is always a good thing for Colorado winters.”

“You’re right about that. And I agree with Jennifer. I’ve seen your hat, and that wool will felt up really well.”

“As long as I don’t shrink it too much,” Kelly added with a laugh. Her cell phone rang then, and she gave Mimi a wave as she headed to a quiet corner of the knitting room.

“Hey, Kelly. Did I get you in the midst of your accounts?” Jayleen asked.

“Not at all. I finished up a few minutes ago. I was about to do some errands. What’s up?”

“Well, I think you’ll want to make a detour to the Mission. There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.”

Kelly leaned against the library table as she sipped her coffee. “Did one of your counselor friends learn anything?”

“Oh, yeah. And we’ve got a guy sitting in the reading room right now. He’s one of the regulars, I’m told. And apparently he saw a young woman on the trail that night.”

Kelly’s coffee mug stopped on its way to her lips. “You’re kidding?”

“Sure as shootin’,” Jayleen affirmed. “I figured you’d want to come out and talk to him. You’d better make it quick, too. Some of these guys aren’t known for sitting still for long.”

“I’ll be right over,” Kelly said, halfway to the door.

 

 

 

Kelly looked around the lobby of the Mission, searching for Jayleen. Several people were standing and talking in small groups in an adjacent room with chairs.

“May I help you?” asked a gray-haired woman behind the counter directly ahead.

“I’m looking for my friend, Jayleen Swinson. She asked me to come over. I think she’s with—”

“I know where she is. Let me get her for you,” the woman said in a cheerful voice as she picked up her desk phone. “Jerry?” she said after a moment. “Is Jayleen with you in the back? Someone’s out front looking for her.” The woman glanced up at Kelly. “Your name?”

“Kelly Flynn.”

The woman repeated the name, then held on the line for a second. “Okay, thanks,” she said, then hung up. “Jayleen will be right out. You can wait over there in the lobby.”

Kelly wandered over to the waiting room. The large dining room that dominated most of the first floor of the building was empty. From what she’d heard from other volunteers, there were people in the kitchen already, cooking up tonight’s dinner. The Mission served lunch and dinner to the homeless and out of work. She’d also heard that the number of people who showed up for free meals had increased. So had the demand at the local food bank for families.

“Kelly, come on back,” Jayleen called, beckoning from a door at the rear of the lobby.

“How did your counselor friends find this guy?” Kelly whispered to Jayleen as they entered a corridor.

“My friend, Jerry, is director of the program that helps bring in the vagrants who’re trying to put their lives back together. Jerry met with some of them yesterday, on Sunday, and straight out asked if anyone remembered seeing a young blonde girl wandering the river trail a couple of weeks ago. This morning, one of the guys came up to Jerry and admitted he’d seen someone that night. A young blonde girl.”

“Wow, that’s fantastic.” Kelly glanced through the doors as they walked along the corridor.

“Here we are,” Jayleen indicated. “Now, better hold back and let him tell his story. He’s kind of skittish. He’s one of the ones who’s been out on his own for a while. Only this last year has he started wanting to make some changes, Jerry said.” She opened a metal office door and motioned Kelly to enter.

A small man sat in a gray padded office chair beside a desk, holding a coffee mug. He could have been anywhere from forty to seventy years old, judging from the lines and wrinkles Kelly saw on his weather-beaten face. His hair was black and gray and shaggy and grew down his neck. A tall, slender, balding man stood beside him.

“Jerry, Malcolm,” Jayleen said, nodding to the tall balding man then to the seated one. “This is Kelly. She’s a family friend of the young girl who died.”

Kelly played along with Jayleen’s exaggeration. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Hey, Kelly, I’m glad you could join us,” Jerry said. “Malcolm here told us that he’d actually seen a young blonde girl on the trail one night. Do you want to tell Kelly the story you told me earlier, Malcolm?” Jerry sat in a desk chair beside the older man, who was dressed in a red-and-black-checked flannel shirt, faded work pants, and work boots. “Do you need a refill of coffee?” Jerry pointed to the ceramic mug in Malcolm’s hand.

Malcolm glanced up at Kelly. She gave him her friendliest smile. Malcolm looked back at Jerry. “No, I’m okay. Did you find out what they’re having for dinner tonight?”

A smile spread across Jerry’s broad face. “I sure did. It’s elk stew. One of our local hunters donated his share of a bull elk from last fall’s hunting season. We’ve been parceling it out slowly because it’s so good.”

“Best thing you’ll ever taste, next to prime beef,” Jayleen decreed as she sank into a chair beside Jerry. She caught Kelly’s eye and motioned to an empty chair.

“Damn right,” Malcolm agreed, then drained his coffee.

He glanced at Kelly again. “You that girl’s sister or something?”

Kelly settled into the chair Jayleen indicated and quickly searched for something plausible to answer. “No, I’m just a close friend of the family. They’re all broken up over Holly’s death, and I’m trying to find out anything I can that might bring them some peace of mind.”

“Holly. That’s the girl’s name?” Malcolm asked.

Kelly nodded, noticing Malcolm’s watery blue eyes.

“Why don’t you tell Kelly what you saw along the trail that night,” Jerry suggested, leaning over, clasped hands between his knees.

Malcolm shrugged, then put his empty mug on a nearby office table. “Don’t know if it’ll be any help, but I’ll tell you anyway.” He crossed his arms and sank back into his chair. “It was Friday night before last. The Mission was filled with families, so some of us single men in line volunteered to sleep outside. Hell, we’ve been doing it for years. Plus, weather’s still good. The cold hasn’t settled in yet. So, I took my bed-roll and headed down to a section of the trail that’s kind of secluded and quiet. Lots of trees there beside the river, so you can bed down under the trees and nobody’s the wiser.”

“What part of the trail was that, Malcolm?” Jerry asked. “How close to the golf course were you?”

“Ohhhh, right next to it. During daylight you can see the golf course through the trees on that side of the trail.”

“You slept on the river side, right?”

“Yep. I have some favorite spots beneath the trees. Nobody can see you from the trail, because of the leaves and brush. Anyway, I bedded down and went to sleep.”

“About what time was that, Malcolm?” Jerry continued.

“Ohhhh, about ten o’clock or so. It was pretty warm that night so I went right to sleep.”

“What woke you up?”

“It was that girl’s voice,” Malcolm said. “You get used to the sounds of traffic at night, but you’re not used to other sounds. You know, high-pitched voices like that girl’s.”