While My Pretty One Knits (9 page)

“Don’t worry, I’m sure they recognize us.” Maggie’s tone was surprisingly serious.

When they returned to the Black Sheep, Dana had already arrived and was sitting with Phoebe at the oak pedestal table in the back of the shop. The table was set for lunch and they’d waited for Lucy and Maggie to begin.

Lucy noticed that they both had their knitting out and were making good use of the time, their needles clicking busily. She spotted three boxes of small gourmet pizza alongside a pile of paper plates and napkins. Her nose had actually alerted her to the surprising menu well before her eyesight caught up.

“Not exactly from the healthy choice aisle, Dana. What happened to that big Greek salad idea?” Lucy prodded her friend.

“Phoebe talked me into pizza. She had a coupon. Buy two, get one free.”

“We did get a big salad, see?” Phoebe added. The tiny stud in her nose caught the light, winking at Lucy. “You can have that if you don’t want any pizza.”

“Right.” Lucy sat down and surveyed the tantalizing spread. She found a pie covered with roasted asparagus, artichokes, and goat cheese and selected a slice.

“It’s amazing how walking around a cemetery works up an appetite,” she acknowledged between bites. “Once you start thinking about your mortality, a few fat grams just don’t seem that important.”

“No, they don’t, do they?” Maggie agreed, biting into her pizza.

“How did it go?” Dana tucked a napkin into the neckline of her fine-gauge V-neck sweater. “Did she have a decent turnout?”

“More than I expected,” Lucy admitted.

Dana neatly cut into her slice of pizza with a plastic knife and fork. “How was Peter? Did he look upset?”

“He was all right during the service,” Lucy told her. “Then he almost started crying when we walked over to say good-bye.”

“He snapped out of it pretty quickly, though,” Maggie added. “In the next breath, he was talking about selling out the inventory in the Knitting Nest.”

“Fast work,” Phoebe said.

“I thought so,” Maggie agreed. “He said if I wasn’t interested, he was going to call an auction house, or something like that.”

“Sounds like he needs the money.” Dana put a few spoonfuls of salad on her plate.

“Can he even sell all her stuff yet? I mean, legally?” Phoebe asked Maggie.

“Good question. I guess I’d better find out. It’s odd enough to go picking through the Nest without creating more problems for myself. Now it’s all falling in place for the police. I’ve killed Amanda to get the stock in her store.”

“Maggie…don’t even joke about that.” Dana laughed around a mouthful.

“The police were at the funeral. Just sitting in their car, watching everyone coming and going,” Lucy told Dana and Phoebe.

“Like two big spiders,” Maggie added.

“One big spider, actually. I think of Detective Reyes more as a ladybug…or a firefly?” Lucy suggested.

“That’s creepy.” Phoebe shook her head.

“Yes, it was.” A serious look dropped over Maggie’s face. She put aside her plate and wiped her mouth with a paper napkin.

Lucy could tell she was nervous about something. Had a mere mention of Detective Walsh upset her again?

Dana noticed, too. She paused while working on the last few bites on her plate. “The police haven’t bothered you again, Maggie, have they?”

“No, I haven’t heard from them. But I’ve been thinking of calling Detective Walsh.”

Lucy frowned. “Really? Why?”

Dana and Phoebe both stopped eating and looked to Maggie.

“What’s going on, Maggie?” Phoebe asked quietly.

Maggie sat back in her seat and pushed back her hair with her hand. “Do you remember when Walsh was here and asked me about my car? He said a green Subaru was seen parked in front of the Knitting Nest the morning Amanda was killed?”

Maggie’s friends nodded. Lucy did remember. Maggie had turned red in the face and snapped back defensively.

“Well…I lied to him.” Maggie looked up at her friends, then looked away. “I did go to Amanda’s shop on Friday morning. That was my car someone saw there.”

Lucy took a sharp breath. “You did? Why?”

“I guess Amanda’s visit Thursday night really threw me. Her behavior was so…off. I started to worry that she might have something up her sleeve and was planning to spoil Cara’s signing.”

“You had good reason, considering your history with her,” Dana reminded Maggie.

“She did have a thing for embarrassing me in public. I decided I’d try to talk to her,” Maggie explained. “Just to get an idea. I drove by the Knitting Nest and saw her car parked near the shop.”

“Did you see her? Was she still alive?” Phoebe looked a little rattled by the revelation, Lucy noticed. She didn’t blame her, she felt the same.

“I knocked on the shop door a few times. But no one answered.” Maggie stared at Phoebe and looked down again. “I heard her dogs barking, so I knew she was in there.”

Lucy cleared her throat. “She might have been…. It might have been over by then.”

“Whoever killed Amanda might have still been inside,” Maggie pointed out. “Listening while I knocked.”

Lucy took a breath. She hadn’t thought of that. “You need to tell the police, Maggie. The sooner the better.”

Dana nodded. “Yes, she has to tell Walsh the full story.”

“I know…I don’t know why I just didn’t tell the truth when he asked me. That was so stupid.” Maggie shook her head, angry at herself. “I don’t know why I lied. It’s not like me at all.”

“He intimidated you. Tried to shake you up with all those questions,” Lucy reminded her. “He did the same thing yesterday morning, when he was asking me about the police report I filed. He made me feel as if I had fabricated the whole thing and I was almost starting to wonder if I
had
made it up.”

“If the police really want a confession, they do even worse than that,” Dana told them.

“But I have nothing to confess,” Maggie insisted. “Disliking someone, wishing they would just go away and leave you alone…that’s not a crime.”

“Fortunately. Or we’d all be wearing orange jumpsuits right now,” Phoebe murmured.

“Just tell him what happened. Like you told us, “Lucy encouraged her. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Not really.”

Dana looked concerned, which wasn’t a good sign. She knew more than any of them about the legal system.

“Look, the omission is understandable,” Dana began in a careful tone, “but he’s going to be pissed at you for holding back. You really should have an attorney present. Or at least speak to one beforehand. Did you ever call the attorney Jack recommended?”

“No, I didn’t get around to it. But I have the number. I’ll call her this afternoon.”

Dana met Maggie’s gaze. “Good. Then call Walsh. Before he calls you.”

Lucy felt a hard knot in her stomach where the gourmet pizza had lodged. Dana really thought Maggie needed an attorney to see the detective. That made it seem serious.

The shop door opened and a young woman walked in. She carried a stylish knitting bag. Her jacket hung open, revealing a large pregnancy bump covered by a long fuchsia T-shirt that read “Baby on Board” in bold white print.

The customer smiled and waved hello. Maggie waved back. “Hi, Jen. Is it two o’clock already?”

“Not quite, I’m early. But I’m having a horrible problem with the booties. Could you take a look, Maggie?”

“Of course I will. We’re meeting in the front room today. I’ll be right there.” Maggie jumped up from her seat and gathered up a few of the dirty plates and napkins. “The What to Knit When You’re Expecting group.” She checked her watch. “I almost forgot about them.”

“I’ll get this stuff,” Phoebe offered, grabbing up more of the plates. “You’d better get in there. Those pregnant moms can be intense.”

“It’s the hormones…you’ll see. One of these days,” she added. “Thanks again for lunch,” she said to both Phoebe and Dana.

“No problem,” Dana replied. She rose along with Lucy and helped Phoebe clear the table while Maggie headed for the front of the store to help her expectant knitting student.

It was also time for Dana to return to her office. Lucy was walking home, so they left together and headed up Main Street.

Dana tied the belt on her long wool coat and flipped her scarf over her shoulder. Lucy remembered when Dana had made the scarf, back in the fall, working cream, brown, and yellow ribbon yarn into thick stripes. A matching hat was pulled down low over her brow, her pretty face framed by brown, shoulder-length hair.

“How’s your work going, Lucy? At least I have appointments to keep me on track. Have you been able to get anything done in the past few days?”

“Just barely,” Lucy admitted. “I’m mostly on the night shift these days.”

“Sounds tough…and tough on your social life,” Dana added.

Lucy shrugged. “No problem, since I don’t have one. Though I did dodge a setup from my sister Ellen this weekend, thank goodness. One of her dinner parties. The last one was just about as much fun as Amanda’s funeral. And the guy she made me meet—some investment banker or something like that—he was…well, not my type.”

Dana smiled and shook her head. “Was he good-looking at least?”

“Ellen thought so. I thought he looked like a pro golfer.” Lucy shrugged. “Just one woman’s opinion.”

“I think I remember that episode.” Dana laughed. “At least you have a sense of humor about it.”

“Barely,” Lucy admitted.

They had reached the building where Dana had her office. It was an old building, made of brick, three stories high and painted white. A bookstore occupied the first floor, the large plate window shaded by a green-and-white–striped awning. Dana’s office was on the second floor with a view of Main Street.

“Don’t feel discouraged, Lucy. Every pot has its lid.” Dana gently touched her arm and smiled.

“You forgot the rest: ‘Even the bent one?’” Lucy finished the saying for her.

“I didn’t forget. I just didn’t want it to sound like I was giving you a diagnosis,” her friend admitted.

Lucy laughed. “Well, gee, thanks…I guess.”

“Even people who have loads of self-confidence feel knocked off course by a divorce. Give yourself time. It takes a while to get your balance back and figure out what you really want in a relationship. From everything. You’re different now,” Dana reminded her. “It takes a while to catch up with the changes. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

Lucy nodded, touched by Dana’s concern.

“And don’t worry about Maggie,” Dana added, as if she had read Lucy’s thoughts back at the shop. “Christine Forbes, the attorney Jack found, is excellent. Maggie is in good hands.”

Lucy appreciated hearing that, too.

After leaving Dana, Lucy picked up the pace, walking the rest of the way home under a heavy gray sky that threatened to rain, or maybe even snow again.

Dana’s advice made good sense, Lucy thought, and put into words the way she’d felt for the past year or so. She did feel different inside—all the pieces tossed around and still settling. Maybe she just wasn’t ready for a real relationship and when she was, it would happen, she reflected.

Dana saw the world with a clear calm vision and was usually correct in her predictions, but there was no getting away from the fact that Maggie’s lie, innocent enough, had complicated her situation. Now, by her own admission, the police could place Maggie at the scene of Amanda’s murder.

But Maggie didn’t murder Amanda. Lucy knew that as well as she knew her own name. Someone else did. So there was really nothing to worry about, she reminded herself.

Nothing at all…right?

Lucy checked her e-mail to find that her client had reviewed the brochure designs and had some comments, most of them easy to remedy.

After a quick phone call with the Human Resources director and another manager in the Communications department, she set to work on the changes. She was eager to get the project completed and approved so that she could, of most importance, get paid.

She also needed to get cracking on her next job, designing a children’s book for a local publisher,
The Big Book of Things That Creep and Crawl
. That one would be a bit more challenging and definitely more fun.

The gourmet pizza splurge had used up her calories and most of her appetite for the day. Lucy was content with a bowl of soup for dinner. She settled down to do some knitting, channel surfing each time she came to the end of a row, until it was clear that there was nothing worth watching on her three hundred channels of TV.

Finally, she shut off the set and concentrated on her brand-new knitting project, the first of two sock monkey hats. A rush order for her nieces, Sophie and Regina. The girls had seen some kid at school wearing one and taken a photo with Regina’s cell phone, then e-mailed it to Lucy with their requests.

The fact that her nieces were eager to wear such seemingly outrageous counterculture headgear warmed Lucy’s heart and gave her great hope. Luckily, she had the right wool and needles on hand to start one off right away.

Ellen was going to hate the hats. Even if they turned out true to the pattern…which Lucy already knew was highly unlikely. Her sister was going to hate mutant sock monkey hats even more, but picturing Ellen’s reaction was a great motivator for her. Making these hats was a little like smuggling arms to guerrilla rebels in some fascist regime.

Puzzling over the instructions—which had promised to be “fast and easy,” don’t they all say that?—she was tempted to call Maggie for guidance.

So far, the only thing Lucy found easy and fast about knitting was finding all types of yarn she couldn’t live without—but had no idea what she would do with. Buying it and hoarding it. At first, she’d thought she was alone in this compulsion and felt horribly guilty, then learned it was a common knitter’s foible, called “building a stash.”

She was also itching to find out if Maggie had connected with the criminal attorney and set up a meeting with Detective Walsh. But Lucy didn’t want to bug her. The situation was hard enough. If anything important had happened, Maggie would call. It wouldn’t help to seem anxious about it.

Lucy reminded herself of the same very sound reasoning the next morning, as she considered calling Maggie again, but instead settled down at her computer. There was a knitting club meeting tomorrow night. She would bring the sock monkey hat in for consultation. If she had strayed too far from the pattern by then, she’d just have to rip away. Sophie and Regina didn’t want to stand there and explain what the silly-looking faces on their heads were supposed to be. They wanted to just put them on and look cool.