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"Jayleen, I worry about Jennifer, too. But we're not talking about her. We're talking about you and Curt here. If ever there was a man you could trust, it would be Curt."
"You're right," Jayleen said with a sigh, staring off. "It's just that I'm afraid to start down that path again."
Kelly had to smile. Colorado Cowgirl Jayleen was skittish. Kelly could understand that. She'd been skittish herself about getting into a serious relationship with Steve. Her friends had teased her mercilessly for months about moving so slowly. But old baggage from Kelly's past kept getting in the way. She'd found the "right guy" once before, years ago. Or so she thought. Turned out, she was wrong. All Kelly knew for sure was that relationships were risky, and they often ended in loss.
But last winter, all of Kelly's hesitation was swept away one snowy February afternoon. Nearly losing her life in a car crash had brought everything into clear focus. Steve had won her heart and her trust months ago. They belonged together.
"Why don't you just take it one step at a time, Jayleen? Curt's giving you a horse, not a diamond, for Pete's sake."
Jayleen snickered.
Emboldened, Kelly reverted once again to humor. "I mean, this is Curt we're talking about. Upstanding Colorado Rancher, stalwart, still good-looking-"
"A fine figger of a man," Jayleen joined in with a laugh.
"Face it, Jayleen, the most Curt might do is invite you to his place for a bowl of chili."
Jayleen hooted with laughter. "Don't be too sure of that, Kelly girl. Curt's got that look. I can always tell."
"Okay, okay." Kelly went along. "I'll make you a promise. If Curt invites you over for dinner some evening, give me a call, and Steve and I will come along."
Jayleen snickered again. "As chaperones? d.a.m.n, girl, Curt and I are too old for that."
She caught Jayleen's eye. "In that case, just give me a sign, and we'll be out the door in a flash."
The sound of both women's laughter rang throughout the barnyard, startling the alpaca away from the fence and two ravens from a cottonwood tree. The large birds squawked as they flew off, their ebony wings flashing in the Colorado sunshine.
Kelly leaned over her computer keyboard and grabbed her ringing cell phone.
Mimi's voice came, breathless. "Kelly, where have you been? I couldn't get through to you on your phone earlier."
"I was up in the canyon with Jayleen, then my cell phone ran out of juice. Why, what's up?"
"Did you read the paper this morning? Did you see the article about the hit-and-run last night?" Mimi's voice went up higher.
"Yes, I did. What's the matter, Mimi? Was it someone you knew?"
"Yes, yes, it was. It was someone we both knew. It was Juliet Renfrow. You and Jennifer helped her at the church knitting cla.s.s, remember? Juliet brings those beautiful capes every holiday. She . . . she was run over by a car and killed last night."
"What! Are you sure it was Juliet?"
"Yes, it was her. I had a call from a friend who worked with Juliet at the library. Police found her last night lying there on the pavement . . . dead. That's so awful I can't bear to think about it." Mimi started sniffling.
"My G.o.d . . ." was all Kelly could think of to say. She sat and stared at the computer screen but saw nothing. All she could see was Juliet-the little brown wren-standing proudly in the middle of the knitting shop in her beautiful Christmas cape.
Nine.
Kelly looked up from her knitting. Steve's alpaca wool scarf was heading into the home stretch. "Have the cops learned anything new?" she asked as Burt pulled out a chair beside Mimi at the knitting table.
"No, not yet. They've interviewed the nearby neighbors, but no one reported hearing any disturbance outside. They were probably asleep or watching television. Plus, the houses are set back farther from the street in that older section of town. And most residents have tall shrubbery and hedges designed to keep out noise. Lots of college students live in those old sections now, so there's always a problem with loud parties and noise."
"Tragic, simply tragic," Hilda said in a mournful tone as a bright blue hat came to life on her needles. "Our little brown wren cut down after the happiest day of her life."
"Please, Hilda, no more," Lizzie begged softly as her fingers worked the green mittens. "I cannot bear to think about it. It's too awful."
Kelly kept silent, unwilling to add any more sad comments this morning. She and Mimi, Hilda, and Lizzie had spent the last hour sharing their shock at Juliet's sudden death and their sorrow for her loss. Kelly hadn't known Juliet very long, but she'd liked the dedicated librarian and talented fiber artist. Juliet clearly loved creating gorgeous fiber art and sharing it with children. It was such a shame that she had fallen victim to a senseless, tragic accident.
"Any hope the cops will catch the driver?"
"I sure hope so, Kelly, but with no eyewitness, police have no idea what kind of car was involved, let alone the license number. Without that, they won't know who was driving. They are interviewing some students, though. There was one of those huge mob scene parties that night only three blocks from Juliet's street. Apparently there was a hit-and-run over there, too. An elderly man stepped out from between two parked cars, and a carful of students ran right into him, breaking his leg." Burt shook his head. "Crazed students racing to the next party."
"Maybe that's what happened to poor Juliet," Mimi suggested. "It's gotten really bad in those older sections. I know several friends who've had to sell their homes to escape the wild parties and the noise. And drunken students pounding on their doors at night."
"Unfortunately, that's all too common for a college town," Burt said as he shifted into the corner chair and pulled out his spinning wheel. "Mimi, could you give me that bag of fleece behind you, please?"
Mimi handed Burt the large plastic bag, which spilled over with fluffy white fleece. "I'm going to get some more tea-does anyone else need something?"
"I'm good, Mimi, thanks," Kelly said as the others demurred.
Burt took a hunk of fleece and started pulling the fibers apart, creating roving or batten, as spinners call it. "The department also put a notice in the newspaper asking anyone who was driving or walking in that vicinity of town to call the police. Someone may have seen something and not paid attention at the time. One clue can be all they need to track down the driver."
"How could anyone be so heartless as to hit a woman and leave her lying in a pool of her own blood-"
"Hilda, please !" Lizzie protested, obviously upset by the gruesome image.
Undaunted, Hilda continued, "Lying alone on the pavement, dying-"
"Merciful heavens, stop!"
Kelly chimed in, hoping to squelch Hilda's morbid depiction. "Hilda, you should stop now. You're upsetting Lizzie."
"Only a coward would do such a thing," Hilda mumbled, staring at her knitting.
"Is there anything else the police can do, Burt?" Kelly said, steering the conversation in another direction.
"Yes, the department always checks auto repair and body shops to see if someone has come in with suspicious-looking damage to their car. You'd be surprised how many people are caught that way."
"How is Jeremy taking it, I wonder." Kelly concentrated on her st.i.tches. Only ten inches or so to go, and she could bind off. Then Steve's Christmas scarf would be done. Of course, it had started out as an autumn scarf, then a Thanksgiving scarf, changing with the calendar. Kelly was simply glad that the weather was cooperating. Thanks to the warmer spell, Steve was still going to his building sites with denim shirts and jacket. No wintry winds so far and none in sight, according to the weatherman.
"I have no idea," Hilda volunteered. "I imagine he's in a state of shock."
"Well, I for one don't care-" Lizzie began.
"I don't believe it!" Hilda exclaimed, staring into the central yarn room. "How can that woman have the gall to show up here today? After Juliet's death."
Kelly turned to see the object of Hilda's consternation. There was Claudia, in one of her two well-worn designer suits, talking with Mimi beside the yarn bins.
"Good for her, I'm glad to see Claudia's come out of hiding," Burt said, glancing up.
"Goodness, yes. I'm so glad she took my advice," Lizzie said, giving a little wave. "I told her she could not hide from the world in her motel. She had to get out and see friends again. It will make her feel so much better."
"Hummph! What friends?" Hilda fumed.
"Hush, Hilda!" Lizzie shushed.
"I have a feeling Claudia doesn't even know about Juliet's death," Burt said from the corner, fingers working the roving as it fed onto the wheel. "She probably never knew Jeremy was seeing someone else."
"Self-absorbed, of course."
Lizzie simply rolled her eyes and didn't respond.
But Kelly did. "Keep it to yourself, Hilda. They're coming this way, and Mimi willnot be pleased at your barbed comments," she warned.
"Amen," Burt said over the hum of the wheel.
Hilda darted a look at Claudia and Mimi as they approached. "Archangel Michael, give me strength."
"Why don't you take a seat over there next to Burt?" Mimi suggested as she led Claudia into the room. "I'll have the cafe bring us some tea and chocolate."
Claudia darted a quick glance around the table. "Good morning," she said in an uncharacteristically hesitant voice. Clearly, Claudia's confidence had taken a beating during the last few days.
"Good morning, Claudia," Kelly said, sending her a bright smile. "It's so good to have you back. We've missed you."
"And all the saints!" Hilda declared.
Claudia gave a little start, then glanced at Hilda before scurrying around the table to a chair beside Burt. Refuge.
"I'm so glad you came, Claudia. The shop isn't the same without you." Lizzie beamed, her rosy cheeks dimpling.
Hilda gave a snort, but said nothing.
Mimi gave Claudia a dazzling smile. "I think we all need some hot chocolate. To celebrate the holidays, right? After all, it's the season of good cheer." She clamped her hand firmly on Hilda's shoulder, causing the elderly knitter to glance up. "I'll be sure to make yours extra sweet, Hilda. It sounds like you need it." With that, Mimi spun around and stalked out of the room.
Burt bent his head, ostensibly to focus on his spinning, but Kelly spotted the unmistakable signs of laughter.
"I'd like some hot chocolate. How about you, Claudia?" Kelly gave her a smile.
Claudia sent a small smile in return and withdrew the nearly finished magenta shawl. "That would be nice." Then she glanced up, and what color had come to Claudia's face drained away in an instant. She stared toward the central yarn room, blue eyes huge.
Kelly turned to see what on earth had caused such a change and saw two Fort Connor police officers walking through the yarn room, heading their way.
"Burt, I think we have visitors," she said in a quiet voice.
Burt glanced up, spotted the approaching officers, and rose from his place at the wheel. "Can we help you, Officers?" he offered as he walked around the table.
Kelly darted a look at Claudia. She was staring openmouthed at the officers, who now stood in the archway between the two rooms. With their broad shoulders, police paraphernalia, and weapons on their hips, they seemed to fill the opening. The officers looked completely out of place amid the soft, warm, and fuzzies of Lambspun.
"Are you the owner of this shop?" the blond officer asked Burt when he drew nearer.
"No, Officer. The owner and manager is in another room right now, but I can get her for you," Burt replied. "Is there a problem?"
"Not with the shop, no, sir," the dark-haired officer said. "We just want to ask some questions, that's all. We're looking for a woman who is reported to be a regular customer here."
Burt paused. "Do you have a name?"
The blond officer consulted a notepad. "Yes, sir, we do. We're looking for Claudia Miller. Are you acquainted with anyone by that name?"
A gasp escaped from Lizzie, and she clamped her hand over her mouth. Kelly let her knitting drop to her lap, and glanced over at Claudia again. Claudia was shaking like an aspen leaf in fall.
Burt addressed Claudia in a gentle voice. "Claudia, these officers want to ask you some questions. Would you like for us to leave the room or would you like us to stay here with you?"
Claudia opened her mouth, but nothing came out at first. She licked her pale lips and tried again. "Stay . . . please," she said in a tiny voice.
Burt turned to the officers again. "I'm sure you officers don't mind if Mrs. Miller has her friends around her while you're asking questions." More a statement than a question.
Both the young officers looked at each other. The darker-haired one replied. "Actually, we'll need to take Mrs. Miller down to the department, sir. You see, we're following up on a stolen automobile report from the Sarasota, Florida, police department." He glanced at his notepad again. "Mrs. Miller is charged with stealing a 1999 Ford Taurus, green in color, license number 233234, on or about the date of October tenth of this year. Charges were filed yesterday by the family of the vehicle's owner, one Mary Ann Howard, who is now deceased."
A strangled cry came from Claudia, and she clapped both hands to her mouth, her whole body shaking. Burt stepped beside her and placed his hand on Claudia's shoulder.
"Do you have a warrant for Mrs. Miller's arrest, Officers?" he asked quietly.
"Yes, sir, we do." The blond officer pulled a paper from his shirt. "We've also located the vehicle in question, parked at the Happy Traveler Inn on East Mulberry Street, near the interstate. It has been impounded and is being taken to the police garage at this time."
"I believe you're presently residing at that motel, Mrs. Miller, is that correct?" the other officer asked.
Claudia didn't answer. She just nodded her head, her hands still at her mouth. She was white as a sheet.
Burt pulled out the chair beside Claudia and took both her hands. He held them between his as he spoke in a gentle tone. "Claudia, these gentlemen need to take you downtown to the police department. I'll be glad to come with you if you'd like."
Claudia turned a terrified gaze to his. "Y-y-yes, please, please . . . don't leave me alone," she begged.
Burt patted her hands and rose. "Don't worry, Claudia. I'll be right there beside you. Do you have a jacket?"
Claudia stared blankly. "Uh, no . . . no."
Burt reached over and helped Claudia to stand. It took a second try. The first time, her legs seemed to give way beneath her. "Officers, would you be so good as to contact my old partner, Detective Dan Patterson, and tell him I'll be accompanying Mrs. Miller?"
Kelly had held her tongue throughout the entire shocking episode but could no longer. "Burt, do you want me to call Marty? Claudia will need a lawyer."
"You're right, Kelly. Give Marty my cell number," Burt said as he half-escorted, half-pulled Claudia around the table toward the officers of the law waiting for her.
"Here we go, everyone, hot chocolate," Mimi cheerfully announced as she rounded the corner, carafe in hand. She came to an abrupt stop and-like Claudia-went white as a sheet. "Burt . . . what's the matter? Is Claudia sick?"