Fleece Navidad Part 13
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Hilda looked up. "Yes! How did you know?"
"Steve and I coached youth baseball and softball teams last summer. We had tons of junior high kids." She wagged her head sympathetically. "They must have given you fits, Hilda."
"Mercy, yes," she sighed again. "Lizzie and I just cannot seem to get through to them."
Kelly could picture it now, Hilda and Lizzie, veteran schoolteachers that they were, trying to hold forth in front of a bunch of bored, surly teenagers already wired into their iPods or sending text messages to friends on their cell phones.
"I think Jennifer and I can help you out with that one, Hilda. When's the next rehearsal scheduled?"
"Tomorrow night at seven in the sanctuary at Saint Mark's."
Kelly pushed off the table and dug her empty coffee mug from her knitting bag. "Tell you what, Hilda. You have the church secretary print up copies of the script. Lots of them. I'll drop by the church and pick them up this afternoon. Odds are, most of the kids have already lost or misplaced theirs."
Hilda's knitting dropped to her lap, and she gazed at Kelly. "Oh, my dear, I cannot thank you enough. I will call the secretary right away. Meanwhile, Lizzie and I will meet you at the church tomorrow evening."
"Glad to be of help, Hilda. We'll see you tomorrow." Kelly gave a wave and headed for the cafe and coffee. Now all she needed to do was make sure Jennifer didn't have a hot date for tomorrow night.
Kelly wove her way around the midmorning customers that filled the shop. Only a week and a half before Christmas, and gift panic was starting to settle in. She could tell by the expressions on some of the faces. Frantic. Would they finish their project on time or be knitting-spinning-crocheting-weaving after midnight Christmas Eve?
The Lambspun Elves had been busy, refilling yarn bins and shelves and chests so that they spilled over with colorful candy-colored yarns. Wools. Mohair. Silk. Cotton. Wound in tidy bundles and soft b.a.l.l.s, twisted into fat skeins, and wrapped in luscious coils. Bunches of gossamer froth were draped along cabinets and walls. All of it waiting for customers and their imaginations.
Kelly spied one of Lambspun's trusty elves waving at her from the front counter, where a line had already formed at the register. "Kelly, are you going to be here for a while?" she called as Kelly approached.
"Yeah, I'm helping Mimi with the bazaar cleanup. What do you need, Rosa?"
Rosa waved a pink sticky note. "If you see Sheila, would you give her this note, please? I can't take time away from the front counter. I swear, that woman must think we're her personal secretaries or something. This is the second time she's gotten a call here at the shop."
Kelly took the sticky note and read the name and phone number. "Ginger Bessum, 941-555-5555. Who's that?"
Rosa shrugged. "I don't know. She says she works for some retirement home."
Kelly's little buzzer went off inside. Retirement home. Was that Claudia's retirement facility? Sheila said she had an informant on the staff. Was Sheila still asking questions about Claudia? Why?
"Sheila has a cell phone. I've seen her use it. Wonder why this Ginger Bessum called her here."
"Beats me, but it's getting old. We're in the crazy Christmas crunch now. None of us has time to deliver messages," Rosa said, clearly impatient.
Kelly headed for the cafe once again, scrutinizing the number. She didn't recognize a Florida area code on sight, but she'd bet this was one. As she rounded a corner into the cafe, she spied Sheila at the counter, ordering coffee. Glancing at the phone number once more, Kelly committed it to memory. That was one of the benefits of being an accountant. She memorized numbers easily.
"Hey, Sheila, Rosa gave me this note. She said a woman called asking for you."
Sheila turned quickly, her look of surprise quickly turning to irritation. She reached for the note and frowned at the number. "I've told that woman not to call me again. She's been trying to get me to join her legal firm, and she simply won't take no for an answer. I've told her I'm perfectly happy with my present position."
"Some people are hard to discourage," Kelly answered, wondering who was telling the truth. Ginger Bessum had told Rosa she worked in a retirement home.
"You're right," Sheila said, pulling out her cell phone as she took her coffee and walked down the hallway leading toward the restrooms.
Kelly continued to the counter and dangled her mug for a refill as she flipped out her phone. Curious as to who was leaving messages for Sheila, Kelly punched in the number she'd memorized, while a waitress filled her mug.
"Evergreen Retirement Facility," a woman's voice answered after a couple of rings.
"I'm trying to reach a Ginger Bessum. Does she work at your facility?" Kelly asked.
"Yes, she does," the woman replied. "She's on another line right now. Would you like to leave a message?"
"No, that's okay. Thanks," Kelly said and clicked off.
She'd bet anything that Sheila was talking to Ginger Bessum right now. Why would Sheila lie about something as innocuous as a phone call? Perhaps she didn't want people to know that she'd been checking on Claudia. Maybe.
Kelly started down the hallway, about to enter the central yarn room, when the sound of Sheila's angry voice stopped her. It came from the corner near the restrooms.
"I have told you before, Ginger, stop calling me. Do you hear? I've paid you already. You arenot getting another dollar."
Sheila's voice was tight with anger. Kelly edged around a corner out of sight, unable to stop listening.
"Is that a threat? Don't try that with me, Ginger. I work with lawyers, do you hear? I can make your life miserable."
Kelly held still, not breathing. She didn't want to miss a word. What was this all about?
"I'm hanging up now. And don't try to call the shop again, because I'm telling them you're a stalker, and I'm alerting the police. Don't push me, Ginger, I'm warning you."
Quickly, Kelly darted into the yarn room ahead and sank one hand into a bin, hoping to look like she was browsing in case Sheila suddenly entered. Instead, she heard Sheila talking with Hilda in the main room nearby. After fondling the green and red candy-striped yarn a few seconds longer, Kelly headed for the front door.
Maybe Burt was still outside. She wanted to run Sheila's conversation past him and get his take on it. Clearly, Sheila was being threatened by this Ginger Bessum in Florida. Why? Was Ginger the spy she'd used to watch Claudia as well as the police investigation into the missing green Taurus?
Mimi stepped into the foyer then and gave a s.h.i.+ver. "Brrrr, I believe we're finally getting our winter temperatures."
"Mimi, is Burt still outside? I wanted to ask him something."
"Yes, he is, but he's probably still on the phone," Mimi said, beckoning Kelly into the tiny alcove near the front door where sale items were displayed. "Burt just heard from Dan at the department, and it's . . . it's not good news." Her face clouded.
"What's happened? Did they take Claudia in for questioning again?"
Mimi sighed. "No, but they went to her motel room with a search warrant looking for evidence. Apparently the police had an answer to their newspaper notice asking people to call in if they were in that area the night of the hit-and-run. A college student reported he had driven down the street that evening and had seen a dark car stopped on the side of the road. He couldn't remember what kind of car it was, but he remembered seeing the driver. Apparently a woman was kneeling by the side of the road. He called out his window and asked if she had a flat tire and needed help. But she said no, so he drove away. He never saw Juliet lying there."
Kelly held her breath. "Did he get a good look at the woman? Was it Claudia?"
Mimi shook her head. "He said he couldn't really see her face that well in the dark, but he did remember she was wearing a hooded cape. Ared hooded cape." Mimi emphasized the words. "That's why police got the search warrant. They've confiscated Claudia's cape."
"Oh, no," Kelly whispered, remembering Claudia proudly displaying the bright red cape on the day she purchased it. One of Juliet's Christmas capes. Was she kneeling beside Juliet? Was she checking if Juliet was dead?
"I know, Kelly, it's awful. Burt said he wanted you and me to know, but he emphasized that we absolutely, positively cannot tell anyone else. The police aren't releasing that information. I swore to him I wouldn't breathe a word, and I knew you wouldn't, either."
"It's hard to believe Claudia would deliberately kill Juliet like that," Kelly said. "But every time the police discover something, it makes her look guilty. Yet she swears she didn't do it."
"Kelly, I'm fond of Claudia, too, but now I don't know what to think. Has she been lying to us all this time? Was she so devastated at Jeremy Cunningham's rejection that she went off the deep end or something?"
"I don't know, Mimi. We've all been giving Claudia the benefit of the doubt. But now, I don't know if we should."
Mimi frowned. "Maybe she's a little bit off or something. If so, then she needs help. Medical help." Mimi shook her head again, clearly worried. "And if that's true, then I don't think Lizzie should be staying over there at night."
"I agree, Mimi, but it'll be hard on Lizzie. She's really become Claudia's strongest supporter."
"This is so awful, and to be happening around the holidays, too. That makes it feel worse. Holidays are supposed to be happy and joyous."
"Well, real life intrudes, even in the holidays, Mimi. Let me know if you need any help, will you?"
Mimi found her smile, and she reached out to pat Kelly's arm. "I will, dear. Why don't you go back to your own work. You've helped enough today."
"Good idea, Mimi. I'll see you later," Kelly said as she pushed through the front door and outside.
The cold air cut right through her sweater and wool pants. Indian summer had left for good. December weather had finally come, and it was staying. Now, if it would only snow.
Spying Burt beside the open trunk of his car, Kelly headed his way. There was not much client work in her in-box this morning. The holiday slowdown had started.
"Hey, Burt, Mimi told me the bad news," she said as she approached. "I hate to say it, but it's looking more and more like Claudia really did kill Juliet Renfrow."
Burt shoved both hands into the pockets of his beige suede coat. "Yeah, it does, Kelly. I mean, how many people who bought one of those capes held a grudge against Juliet Renfrow?" He shook his head. "Marty would have to be a magician to clear Claudia with all these facts stacked against her. In fact, I'm not sure even fast-talking Marty could pull that off."
"Yeah, you're right," Kelly said, rubbing her arms.
"You ought to go in, Kelly. You're s.h.i.+vering."
She turned to leave then suddenly remembered her earlier thought. "Hey, Burt, would you do me a favor?"
"Sure, Kelly. What do you need?"
"I overheard a conversation earlier this morning and it's got my curiosity up. I wondered if you could talk to your friend in Florida again. You know, the one who checked into the stolen car situation at Claudia's retirement home."
"I guess I could. Why? What's up?"
"A little while ago, Rosa gave me a note for Sheila. Apparently a woman in Florida has called the shop twice and left messages for Sheila. Rosa's not too happy about it, either."
"At the shop? That's weird. Doesn't Sheila have a phone?"
Kelly nodded. "She sure does. In fact, I gave her the message, and Sheila said it was some woman in Florida who wanted to hire her for a law firm. But Rosa claimed that the caller said she worked for a retirement home." Kelly paused for emphasis.
Burt's brows arched in what Kelly recognized as his skeptical expression. "Oh, really? Is it the same retirement home where Claudia lived? Why would they be calling Sheila?"
"That's what I wondered. In fact, I dialed the number myself and reached the Evergreen Retirement Facility. And the woman who left the message for Sheila works there, too. Her name's Ginger Bessum. Why would Sheila lie about that?"
"I don't know, Kelly. It makes you wonder."
"Yeah, it does. But what really made me curious was the phone conversation I overheard when I walked past the hallway. Sheila must have been talking to that woman because she called her Ginger. And she sounded mad."
Kelly repeated the overheard conversation for Burt in its entirety, then waited for his response.
Burt's brows shot up again. "Really?"
"Yeah, really. It sounds to me like Ginger Bessum is trying to blackmail Sheila into paying her more money for something. Do you think it's for spying on Claudia? I mean, Sheila admitted that much already. What do you think, Burt?"
Burt glanced away. "I don't know, Kelly, but I'd like to find out. Let me see if I can actually speak to the guy in Sarasota my buddy contacted. That way I can get more information. I'll keep you posted. Now, why don't you get inside before you freeze." He pointed to her cottage across the driveway.
"Thanks, Burt," Kelly said as she took off at a run.
Fourteen.
Kelly grabbed her shoulder bag and hastened across the driveway, her ski jacket flapping open with the chill breeze. Client work had only taken a couple of hours this morning. If she was lucky, she could sneak in an afternoon of holiday shopping to finish off her gift list. All she needed was a quick fill-up of Eduardo's brew, and she would be on her way.
As she neared the stone pathway leading to Lambspun's front patio, Kelly spied Lizzie's car heading down the driveway. Pausing on the path, Kelly waited for Lizzie to join her. Shopping could wait a few minutes.
"How're you doing?" she asked as Lizzie approached.
Lizzie was decked out in her holiday season festive red and green, with a red bow in her hair. A holiday corsage of angels and bells adorned her lapel. She greeted Kelly with a smile that held only a fraction of her usual good cheer. "I'm doing pretty well, dear, considering all the horrible things that are happening right now."
Kelly paused in the stone entry. "Lizzie, both Mimi and I think you shouldn't spend the nights with Claudia anymore. She's a grown woman and will have to learn how to get through all of this without someone holding her hand."
Lizzie looked up in surprise. "But she's so fragile, Kelly. She really is. Why, she bursts into tears just thinking about everything. Having me there helps her."
"If she's really that emotionally fragile, then she may need professional help. We know you mean the best, Lizzie, and your efforts are well intentioned. But you may not be the help that Claudia needs. I'll ask Marty what he thinks."
Lizzie's paper-thin cheeks puckered with concern. "But I can't just abandon her like that-"
"You don't have to abandon Claudia, simply visit her during the daytime. Take her out to the senior center and bring her here for knitting. That will be good for her. It'll keep her mind off . . . well, everything else."
"I was planning on picking her up today after I'd done my morning errands. I wanted to bring Claudia to the shop for the afternoon gathering."
"That sounds like a good plan," Kelly said as she opened the wooden door.
Following the plump little knitter into the shop, Kelly spied Burt in the doorway to the adjacent room. He beckoned Kelly over. Holiday shopping was obviously going to wait some more, she figured as she headed his way.
"What's up, Burt?"
"Let's go have some coffee, Kelly," he suggested, walking toward the hallway leading to the cafe. "I heard from that Sarasota detective who's investigating the missing Taurus."
"Great. Does he remember Sheila Miller?"
"Ohhhh, yeah. According to this d.i.c.k Watson, Sheila is a royal pain in the b.u.t.t." Burt pulled out a chair for Kelly and one for himself. "Apparently Sheila was obsessed with Claudia to the point of stalking her. And she did have someone in the retirement home spying on her. I guess that was this Ginger."
"And the Sarasota cop knew all about that?"
"Oh, yeah. Several months ago, Sheila gave him a printed report of all the facts concerning Claudia's previous two husbands and their deaths. She really did travel to those states and interview people." Burt shook his head. "Anyway, when she returned, she presented Detective Watson with the report and insisted that an investigation be opened into her father's death. She swore Claudia had killed him. Of course, Watson told Sheila that there was nothing in her so-called report that would cause them to question her father's death. Apparently Sheila didn't take that too well. Afterwards, she started trying to get newspapers to print her accusations."
Fleece Navidad Part 13
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Fleece Navidad Part 13 summary
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