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Authors: Maggie Sefton

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BOOK: Dyer Consequences
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“I don’t know, Pete,” Kelly mused out loud. “Maybe they panicked.” She remembered the metal rod she’d spied on the basement floor earlier.
Did they hit Tracy, meaning to just knock her out? Is that what happened? Did she accidentally fall into the dye tub?
“Ms. Flynn, could you come in, please?” Lieutenant Morrison called from the cottage doorway.
“You bet,” Kelly replied brightly as she crossed the muddy path her walkway had become and raced up the front steps. “Mind if I refresh my coffee before we start, Lieutenant?” she said as she held up her mug and headed for the kitchen.
Morrison nodded, then perched on the edge of her black leather sofa. “I wouldn’t mind a cup myself. Black.”
“The only civilized way to drink it,” Kelly replied, hiding her smile as she filled another mug. If this was Morrison’s way of smoothing over their earlier relationship, it worked for her.
“How well did you know Tracy Putnam?” Morrison asked as he accepted the mug.
Kelly took a deep drink before answering. “Not too well. I just met her about a week ago when my friend Jennifer introduced us at the shop.”
Morrison scribbled in his notepad. “Did you see her after that? Or have a chance to speak with her?”
“Actually, I saw Tracy several times after that. We were in the same class Mimi taught on dyeing fibers, and Tracy started coming to the shop every afternoon to work on her projects.” Kelly gave him a sad smile. “She loved working with fibers and creating colors.”
“Did she ever share any details of her personal life? Mention any friends or coworkers?”
Kelly shook her head. “I’m afraid not. We only talked about the yarns or the shop. Unfortunately, I never got the chance to learn more about her.” She sipped her coffee while Morrison scribbled away. “Let me ask
you
a question, Lieutenant. Why would those guys stop trashing the shop and café and kill our friend downstairs? That doesn’t sound like random vandalism to me.”
Morrison looked up from his notepad. “It’s still early in our investigation, but it appears Ms. Putnam’s death may have been the result of a burglary gone bad.”
A “burglary gone bad.” She’d heard that reason once before and from Morrison himself. When her aunt Helen was strangled in the cottage nearly a year ago, police had chalked it up to a burglary gone bad, a tragic accident. In Aunt Helen’s case, however, Kelly had gone on to prove her aunt’s death was no accident but deliberate murder.
“Do you think they panicked? I mean, it makes no sense to kill Tracy if they’re only trashing the place.”
“That’s one possibility,” Morrison replied, clearly unwilling to provide more details.
Kelly continued to probe anyway. “What if they were high on drugs or something? Maybe that’s what happened.”
Morrison eyed her over his coffee mug. “Believe me, Ms. Flynn, we’re looking into every possibility. Now, why don’t you tell me about these instances of vandalism you’ve experienced recently.”
Kelly heard the tone of finality in Morrison’s voice. He wasn’t about to speculate on Tracy’s death. She also knew Morrison’s investigative style. He would make her repeat everything she’d told the officer earlier when she was questioned.
“It started right before Christmas. My tires were slashed when I was inside the shop at a party. Then in January, red paint was thrown on my house, then my windshield was smashed.”
“And you never heard or saw anyone when these incidents occurred?”
“Nope. I was away from home each time.” Kelly drained her coffee.
Morrison flipped through his notepad. “But you told Officer Grebs that you were home for this last incident when paint was thrown on your garage. And you still didn’t hear anything?”
Kelly recognized Morrison’s skeptical tone, so she leveled her gaze and dropped her voice. She might have left corporate behavior behind, but it hadn’t left her. “No, Lieutenant, I did not. However, my dog started barking in the middle of the night, so I got up and checked outside. I saw nothing, and I heard nothing. The lights had gone on, but I’ve noticed that animals can set them off. So I thought Carl had heard a fox or a raccoon. But I did see a guy hiding in the trees at the edge of my backyard one morning. He ran off when I spotted him.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“Not really. He was wearing a dark hooded jacket and pants and took off like a rocket when I yelled at him.” Kelly headed for the kitchen and more coffee.
Morrison scribbled again. “Tell me, Ms. Flynn, have you had any altercations with other people these last few months? Any sharp or violent disagreements or incidents where you might have made enemies?” He peered over his mug at her before drinking.
Kelly took her time pouring the black stream into her mug as four faces suddenly flashed before her eyes.
Enemies? Oh, yeah.
She shook them away then took a large drink of coffee.
“I’m an accountant, Lieutenant. We try not to make enemies. We just do their accounts.”
“So, there’s no one you’ve met in Fort Connor who might hold a grudge against you or harbor a strong dislike for any reason?” He set his mug aside and rose.
"Well . . . I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Kelly admitted with a wry smile as she strolled back into the living room.
Morrison’s bushy eyebrows arched. “Nor would I, Ms. Flynn. If memory serves me, I recall you’ve played a role in helping police investigate several murders. Consequently, you’ve been in situations that have brought you into conflict with other people. In fact, there are four people either in jail right now or awaiting trial because of you.”
Kelly’s smile disappeared. Morrison was right. If not for her, those people would have gotten away with murder. And they would be free today. “You’re exaggerating, Lieutenant. I simply helped the process along, that’s all.”
Morrison smiled slightly. “All the same, Ms. Flynn. There are some people in town who probably don’t think of you too fondly.”
Kelly stared through the dining room windows at the snow-covered golf course while she sipped her coffee. She didn’t like the picture Morrison painted, so she shook it away as well. “I don’t know, Lieutenant. I still think it was a bunch of violent scumbags looking for trouble that damaged my place. And that’s how they found the shop.” She started to pace the small living room. “If it was someone who hated me personally, then they would have no reason to trash the shop. That doesn’t make sense.”
Morrison shoved his notepad into the front pocket of his gray suit and headed to the front door. “You’re probably right, Ms. Flynn, but we plan to look into every angle.”
Kelly followed Morrison, who was obviously eager to leave and escape any further discussion. She was about to ask him another question anyway when he turned in the open doorway and fixed her with a level gaze.
“Take care of yourself, Ms. Flynn. And try to stay out of trouble, okay?”
Kelly couldn’t resist being her usual contrarian self. She grinned. “I’ll do my best, Lieutenant. But I make no promises.”
“I figured as much,” Morrison said before he strode down the steps.
Kelly spied her friends still standing in the slushy driveway, huddled around Burt and deep in conversation. She headed their way.
“Hey, Burt, I wondered when you’d be free to fill us in,” Kelly said as she joined them. “Morrison just told me they think it was a burglary gone bad and that Tracy’s death was accidental. What can
you
tell us?”
Burt zipped his jacket snug to his neck as the breeze ruffled his gray hair. “That’s exactly what Dan told me a while ago. They think the vandalism was unplanned. A hasty crime of opportunity. The shop was all lit up and unlocked in a secluded setting. They were probably looking for money or anything valuable. Mimi’s cash box was emptied, and they broke into both registers and grabbed whatever cash was there. All three were dusted for prints. They’ll check, just in case there’s someone with a record of burglary and assault.”
His expression saddened. “Tracy’s death was probably a tragic accident. They must have surprised her downstairs, and maybe she started screaming. Who knows? Anyway, Dan thinks she was hit on the head to knock her out. Tracy must have slumped into the tub and drowned while they went back to trashing the upstairs.”
“How awful . . .” Mimi whispered, pulling a wad of tissues from her pocket to wipe her eyes.
Pete shook his head sadly. “Much too young to die.”
“I want to see those guys caught and sent to jail!” Rosa’s dark eyes sparked.
“Believe me, folks, the police will catch the guys who did this. I can promise you that,” Burt said with an emphatic nod. “Meanwhile, Mimi, you and Pete have to get an alarm system installed as soon as possible. You’ve got to have some security in place or none of us will sleep at night.”
Mimi nodded. “I know. Lieutenant Morrison told me the same thing. I admit, I was thinking about it.”
“Me, too, Mimi,” Pete said. “I’ll check into what’s available.”
“I’ll help you folks pay for it, too,” Burt added. “No arguments—”
“Absolutely, not,” Mimi interrupted.
“Not necessary, Burt. I’ve been saving for it,” Pete said.
Kelly waited for Mimi and Pete to silence all Burt’s repeated offers to help before she spoke up. “Well, I’m definitely going to contribute to the security system. It’s my fault those guys trashed the place. If they hadn’t been coming to my place to cause trouble, they never would have discovered the shop.”
Both Mimi and Pete countered with refusals, but Kelly ignored them both. Then Burt looked at her sternly. “This was
not
your fault, Kelly.”
Mimi and Pete both nodded, offering vigorous denials. Kelly wished she could believe them. But no matter what anyone said or how much they tried to reassure her, deep inside she wasn’t. She still felt guilty.
“Okay, okay,” she acquiesced. “At least I can help you clean up the shop and café, can’t I? I’ll show up with a bucket and sponge, anyway. So you might as well put me to work. I won’t be able to sleep at night unless I can do
something.

Pete laughed, his round face softening for the first time this morning. “That’s a deal, Kelly.”
“And after you finish at Pete’s you can help us,” Mimi added. “I’m sure the Lambspun network will spread the word, and we’ll have plenty of worker bees to help clean. You could help Rosa go through the office. I certainly hope they didn’t trash the files—” Suddenly a look of horror crossed her face. “
Oh, no!
My new laptop computer. I left it in the office!”
Kelly flinched. That laptop was probably in Denver by now. Stolen for sure. “I’m sorry, Mimi. I’ll help you find another one online.” She reached over to give her friend a sympathetic pat on the shoulder.
“Why didn’t I bring it home last night?” Mimi berated herself, shaking her head. “I just bought it three months ago.”
Burt reached over and gave Mimi a hug, which she returned. “I’ll call Dan and ask him to check your office again, Mimi. I only glanced in there. I was so relieved it wasn’t trashed like the yarn rooms, I didn’t even notice a laptop.”
“Don’t worry, Mimi,” Kelly reassured her. “Megan knows great computer websites. She’ll find you a deal.”
“Meanwhile, let me take all of you to lunch,” Burt offered. “You’ve been here the entire morning. Morrison is finished with you. No need to hang around anymore. The police will probably be here the rest of the day.”
Pete drained the last of his coffee. “Good idea, Burt. I’d like to try someone else’s food for a change.”
Kelly stared at her computer screen as she tabbed through the spreadsheet, entering figures, calculating numbers, column after column, row after row. There was something soothing about working with numbers. When they added up, that is. When the amounts at the bottom of the spreadsheet columns didn’t make sense, it was annoying, but it was still easily solved. Not like working with people. People did things that didn’t make sense all the time.
Her cell phone jangled, and she flipped it open. “Kelly here.”
“No,
I’m
here. You’re there.” Jayleen’s familiar laughter came over the phone.
“Hey, Jayleen, how’re you doing?” Kelly asked, glancing at her watch as she pushed away from the sunny corner desk. Had she really been working for three hours straight? Checking the angle of the late afternoon sun confirmed it.
“I’m fine. Gettin’ tired of shoveling snow, that’s for sure. I declare, I’ll be ready for spring whenever it wants to mosey along. What’re you up to? Slaving over those damn accounts, I bet.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say slaving exactly, but I am trying to work ahead so I can take a day or two off to help Pete and Mimi clean up when the police say it’s okay.” She leaned against the kitchen counter while she refilled her coffee mug. “I spent all morning standing outside watching the cops run around.”
Jayleen made a sympathetic sound. “I sure am sorry Mimi and Pete got hit by those no-goods. And to think they’d kill that young girl downstairs. Lord-a-mercy. Jail’s too good for that bunch.”
Kelly heard the hint of old-fashioned vigilante justice in Jayleen’s voice. “I agree, Jayleen. They had to be a bunch of vicious scumbags to kill Tracy. It kind of makes you wish for the days when you could round up a posse and go find ’em. But according to Burt, those guys are hard to catch. They scatter into holes like rats.”
“The cops will catch ’em, don’t you worry. Listen, Kelly, there’s another reason I called. Do you want me to keep an ear out and see if any of the other breeders are looking to expand their herds? What with all those extra expenses you’ve had recently to clean up and repair your place, I figured you might need some extra cash.”
Kelly paused, pondering what Jayleen said. “Hmmm. Let me think about that, Jayleen.”
BOOK: Dyer Consequences
11.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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