Unraveled (3 page)

“Jayleen said Curt called Steve on the phone and really chewed him out,” Lisa offered. “She’d never heard Curt cuss like that before.”

“We weren’t sure he’d ever come back after Megan and Lisa took turns beating up on him. Even Jennifer went after him. Man, it was brutal.” Greg gave a pretend shudder.

Kelly did her best to conceal her emotions. Despite herself, she couldn’t keep from smiling inside when she heard that. But instead of answering “Serves him right,” Kelly calmly asked, “How’d he take it?”

“Like a man,” Marty said. “Kept his mouth shut and let them beat him up.”

Greg glanced at Kelly. “Steve knows he screwed up bad.”

Kelly could feel all her friends staring at her and couldn’t resist a tart response. She also spotted Jayleen approach so she knew she wouldn’t be pressured. “Good,” was all she replied.

“Greg and Marty, you’d better go have thirds on that cake and save the rest of us from ourselves,” Jayleen said as she approached Kelly and friends. “That was scrumptious, Megan. That’s so good you should have it for your wedding.”

Glad for the reprieve from further comments, Kelly quickly followed up. “Yeah, Megan. Save a bill from the bakery and have this as your wedding cake.”

Megan looked appalled. “Do you really think I’m about to bake cakes right before the wedding? You’re crazy!”

“Thanks to Jayleen and Curt, we can afford to pay caterers,” Marty said, his infectious grin returning. “Of course, Uncle Curt’s steaks will take a big chunk out of that bill, too.”

“You know, you’ll have to hire someone to handle the grill as well as someone to tend bar,” Pete reminded them. “I have names of people I’ve used you can trust to do a good job.”

“I’ll volunteer,” Greg held up his hand.

Jayleen hooted. “I thought you were a vegetarian, Greg. I’ve noticed you falling off the wagon this last year.”

“Blame it on Curt and his steaks.” Greg shrugged.

“He’s a weekday vegetarian. He can do it on weekends too unless we’re going to Curt’s or Jayleen’s,” Lisa said.

“Well, in that case, I wouldn’t trust Greg around those steaks any more than I’d trust Kelly’s dog Carl,” Jayleen warned.

“Hey, maybe we could bring Carl to the reception so he could guard the grill and keep an eye on Greg,” Pete joked.

At that, Kelly and all her friends joined Jayleen in laughter, picturing Kelly’s Rottweiler chasing Greg away from the grill.

Two

Kelly
looked across the mahogany library table at her client Arthur Housemann. Sunlight from the nearby window glinted off his silver-laced hair as he bent over the March expense estimates she’d prepared. “The business is doing well, Arthur. The vacancy rate for your rental properties is the lowest northern Colorado has seen in years. You’re weathering this recession in fine shape.” She took a deep drink from one of the Housemann company ceramic coffee mugs.

Housemann looked up from the documents spread out on the table. “So far, so good, Kelly. Cutting back on some of my expenses and putting off a couple of purchases helped, too.” He peered over the top of his reading glasses. “When times get tough, you’ve gotta get tough, too. Only the strong survive these downturns.”

Housemann returned his attention to the expense reports. He reminded Kelly of her late father in some ways. He was sixty-four, the same age her father would be had he lived. Housemann also had the same quiet, studious manner that her dad had. He spoke when he had something to say, and it usually counted for something.

That’s why Housemann’s comment caught her attention. Tough, good businessmen got swept away in this recession, too. So being tough and smart wasn’t the whole story.

She felt compelled to add, “Well, a lot of smart, tough builders and developers went belly-up last year, too. So, I think there’s more to it than toughness. Not having enough cash in the bank seems to me to be the deciding factor.” She pointed to a column in another financial report that lay open on the table. “Now, you’ve been careful to keep a good cash position, Arthur. That’s been the key difference.”

Housemann started to smile. “You’re right, Kelly. I sounded kind of flippant just then. Didn’t mean to be.” He dropped the reports to the table and removed his reading glasses. “I’ve been in this real estate business a long time, so I watched and learned how the survivors did it. Then, I patterned my rules after theirs. And whenever I didn’t follow them, I lost big.” He swung his glasses by the earpiece as he glanced out the sixth-floor office window, which looked across Fort Connor to the west. “And one of those rules was always have plenty of cash, to invest or to live on if necessary.”

“Amen, to that,” Kelly said with a smile, lifting her mug in salute. “Putting away cash takes a discipline that most people do not have, unfortunately.”

“That being said, I am now about to dip into that cash pool,” Housemann said, eyeing her. “I’ll be withdrawing at least sixty thousand.”

Kelly set her mug on the table. She couldn’t hide her surprise. “That’s serious money, Arthur. Are you sure you want to do that right now? What did I just hear you say?”

Housemann chuckled. “You have my permission to quote myself back to me, Kelly. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime purchase, and I simply cannot let it pass me by.”

She leaned back in the upholstered chair and folded her arms. “Okay, I’ve gotta hear this. Tell me. What are you buying?”

“I’ve made an offer on a property in Poudre Canyon, right on the river. It’s thirty acres of drop-dead beautiful. I’ve always wanted to have a property up there, but never could find the right one. I wanted river access and plenty of room to camp with my kids and grandkids.” Housemann stared out the window again. “All these years, I’d think about scouting for properties to buy for my family, then another business deal would come along and take away the discretionary funds and my attention. Plus, a lot of the places just didn’t strike my fancy. They had too much vertical, or they didn’t have river access or not enough trees.”

“Sounds like you wanted it all, Arthur,” Kelly observed. “That’s hard to find. Where is this jewel?”

“It’s about ten miles up the canyon. I’ve driven past it all my life. You can tell how gorgeous it is from the road. And I’ve hiked some on the bordering trails over the years. There are stands of aspen and evergreens and ponds throughout. Deer graze there all the time. Nobody to chase them off. I never saw many people on the property. Some of my friends who live nearby said someone from out-of-state had owned it for years. I figured it was a family property of some kind and would stay that way.” He turned to Kelly. “So, you can imagine my surprise when I heard about it coming on the market. Mark Dunham over at Northstar Real Estate keeps his eye out for me all the time, and he knows how I’ve always wanted a place on the Poudre River.”

Housemann looked so happy Kelly had to laugh. The staid, conservative businessman looked like a kid who’d just stepped into a candy store and was told he could have whatever he wanted.

“It sounds like the stars aligned for you on this one, Arthur. As your CPA, I’ve already done my duty to warn you about depleting your much-treasured cash reserve. But I’m not about to rain on your parade. When do you plan to make an offer?”

“I already have. One of Mark’s agents wrote up the offer and brought it over this morning,” Housemann said with a kid-like grin. He was obviously already in the candy store. “In fact, here’s my copy. I was planning to show it to you after we went through the expenses.” He reached into a portfolio beside his elbow and drew out a sheaf of legal-size documents that Kelly recognized as a real estate contract.

“Take your time reading; I’ll fill up our coffees,” Housemann said, rising from the table. “I know you’ll want some, Kelly.”

“Yes, please,” Kelly said, already immersed in the legalese. Reading past the purchase offer, Kelly read the name of the seller. “Fred Turner.” Something sounded familiar about that name. “The seller’s name sounds familiar. Have you done business with him before? I must have read that name somewhere.”

Housemann gave a snort as he walked over to the table with the coffeepot. “I haven’t done business with that bastard for years. Ever since he tried to cheat me out of some property I was buying in Denver. He’s a real piece of work. Nobody in town wants to work with him unless he has a property they’re hot to buy.” He poured a dark stream into Kelly’s mug.

Housemann’s comment jogged Kelly’s memory. “So, he has a bad reputation, huh?” she asked, paging through the contract.

“The worst. He’ll use whatever he can to cheat someone out of their property and still be on legal grounds. Just barely.” Housemann sank into his chair. “He’ll jerk around anyone who’ll let him. That’s why I’m offering full purchase price with a significant cash down payment. I didn’t bother to negotiate, because I don’t have time or patience to play games with Turner, and I want that property.” Housemann took a deep drink from his mug.

Kelly turned to the last page in the contract and read the names of the seller’s real estate agency. It was Jennifer’s company. She was right. Fred Turner was the “problem” client that Jennifer had described to her yesterday at Jayleen’s barbeque.

“It looks like my friend Jennifer Stroud is the selling agent. She’s very experienced. She’s been working in real estate for years, so she should be able to keep Turner in line.”

Housemann frowned. “I don’t think anyone can keep Fred Turner in line. He’s not afraid to make a scene when it serves his purpose. He loves to throw the other party off balance.”

“Well, he shouldn’t play any games with this offer. You’re meeting his purchase price,” Kelly declared, pointing to the contract.

“Even so, I won’t relax until he’s signed the contract, Kelly. I don’t trust Turner as far as I can throw him.”

“Hey,
Kelly, good to see you drop in,” Mimi said as Kelly walked into her favorite knitting shop, Lambspun. Mimi was hanging loops of fluffy spun yarns along the foyer wall. Cotton candy. “Most afternoons lately you’ve been in Denver.”

“And I’ll be there again tomorrow,” Kelly said. “But I finished one client’s account this morning, so I figured I deserved a break before going back to the other client this afternoon.”

The entire foyer was alive with color. Yarns spilled out of the wooden bins lining one wall. An antique dry sink and a natural pine cabinet both bulged with colorful spring fibers. An open steamer trunk on the floor was piled high with inviting fluffy balls of mohair, silky loops of ribbon, and tidy balls of baby-soft cotton. Woven baskets were tucked in everywhere else. There wasn’t an inch of the foyer that wasn’t bursting with color. The skylight above allowed natural light to brighten the foyer and enhanced the various colors and textures.

“Well, we’re glad to see you whenever you find the time.” Mimi gave her a motherly smile as she hung the last loop of spun yarn on the wall with the others. A luscious lemon froth.

Kelly fingered the soft froth. “The spinners have been busy.”

“Oh, yes. Why don’t you follow me up front and fill me in on what you’re doing? I need to catch up. I didn’t get much time to chat with you at Jayleen’s last night.”

“Let me drop off my stuff first,” Kelly said as she headed for the main knitting room. She set her knitting bag on the long library table where all the knitters and other fiber workers gathered regularly.

Bookshelves hugged the walls of this room. All the shelves were packed with books on every fiber subject imaginable—knitting, crocheting, spinning, weaving, dyeing, felting, tatting, and other stitchery. If yarns or threads were used in any form, there was a book on it. Kelly was always amazed at the fiber subjects she knew nothing about.

She walked through the central yarn room, where all four walls were lined with bins and shelves that overflowed with coils, balls, or skeins of different colors. Rainbows. Following Mimi’s path toward the front of the shop, Kelly noticed there were no customers lined up at the counter.

Kelly couldn’t help asking. “Wow, no customers. Has business dropped off or something?”

Mimi grinned at her as she picked up a ball of newly wound blue-and-gray wool. “You should have seen it this morning. We had loads of customers. You’ve started to forget how the traffic flows around here, Kelly. You haven’t been in as often.”

Kelly settled into a chair at the winding table and watched Mimi take one of the newly spun skeins of wool and loop it around the spindles of the yarn swift. Then, she started turning the swift’s handle, slowly winding the yarn into a ball on a spindle at the other end of the table.

“You’re probably right.” Kelly stretched out her long jeans-clad legs. “I have business on the brain all the time now. That’s why I grabbed this little slice of time and got out of my office clothes and headed over here for some relaxation. I need it.”

Mimi wound slowly, glancing up at Kelly. “Yes, I have to admit you don’t look as relaxed as you used to. It sounds like that Denver client has really started claiming a lot more of your time. You’ve even stayed down there overnight, I hear.”

The Lambspun grapevine was as alive as ever. “That’s right. When I have late night meetings or receptions and early morning meetings the next day, it’s easier to stay. There are some nice hotels in the Cherry Creek area.”