A Deadly Yarn Read online

  Praise for

  Needled to Death

  “[A] tightly stitched tale.”

  —The Best Reviews

  “Solid…Kelly is easy to like.”

  —Mystery Reader

  “Nonknitters and fiber fanatics alike will enjoy the yarn-shop setting.”—

  Romantic Times BOOKclub

  Praise for

  Knit One, Kill Two

  “Well-drawn characters and a wickedly clever plot—you’ll love unraveling this mystery!”

  —Laura Childs, author of Blood Orange Brewing

  “A clever, fast-paced plot, with a spunky sleuth and a cast of fun, engaging characters. Knit One, Kill Two delivers the goods.”

  —Margaret Coel, author of Eye of the Wolf

  Knitting Mysteries by Maggie Sefton

  KNIT ONE, KILL TWO

  NEEDLED TO DEATH

  A DEADLY YARN

  A Deadly Yarn

  Maggie Sefton

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

  A DEADLY YARN

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2006 by Margaret Aunon writing as Maggie Sefton.

  Cover art by Chris O’Leary.

  Cover logo by axb group.

  Cover design by Rita Frangie.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 9781101220573

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Version_2

  Acknowledgments

  First I want to thank Lee Ann Williams of Midland, Texas, for helping in my research on oil and natural gas deposits. My questions were many, and her answers were detailed and thorough. Thanks again, Lee Ann, for sharing your lifetime of experience in the business. My challenge was to weave specific details on the subject throughout the book without slowing the story—or boring the reader. I hope I’ve succeeded.

  Next I want to thank all the talented fiber artists I spoke with while researching this novel. Like Kelly, I did not know that something called “wearable art” even existed until I actually saw it. I am astounded by the variety that is being created.

  I also want to thank Sandy Dunn, a talented fiber artist from Santa Fe (now living in Colorado), who was kind enough to share her “artist’s journey” with me.

  Most especially, I want to thank Kristin Hansen of Kristin’s Boutique in Santa Fe, which was the inspiration for the fantastic and fabulous boutique Kelly visits. Like Kelly, my jaw literally dropped when I first entered Kristin’s. My poor descriptions do not do justice to the unbelievable variety of clothing and accessories I saw there. Thank you, Kristin, for providing that marvelous shopping experience and for answering my many questions.

  Finally I want to thank Anne Murphy and Richard Dolph for contributing their wonderful recipes for Chiles Rellenos. Enjoy!

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Lambspun Easy Triangle Shawl

  Two Recipes for Chiles Rellenos con Queso

  One

  Kelly Flynn eyed the tempting appetizers spread out on the nearby buffet table. As hungry as she was right now, she could easily empty a whole tray of the tiny morsels. Balancing her glass of white wine, Kelly selected a creamy white cheese melted over a thin cracker and tasted, savoring the delicate Oaxaca cheese as she wandered the balcony of the restored Spanish colonial building.

  Glancing out into the plaza of Old Santa Fe, Kelly could almost feel herself slip back in time. Most of the buildings surrounding the historic plaza still had the distinctive adobe architecture—sunbaked mud covered by stucco. Trees and benches dotted the graceful square, and Kelly imagined colonial ladies from yesteryear strolling with their long lacy skirts and parasols.

  It was a charming picture, but Kelly was grateful she didn’t live in those days. She was fairly certain she’d never make it as a “fine lady” in colonial times. She’d probably trip on her long skirts and fall face first onto the plaza—after she’d accidentally speared someone with her parasol, of course. Heck, she had enough trouble wearing dresses now.

  “Have you tried that dip with the chili sauce, yet?” Megan asked as she came up beside Kelly.

  “I don’t know. Which one is it?” Kelly glanced back at the table, which was draped with colorful embroidered cloths. Platters of tropical fruit vied with the appetizers for space.

  “Ohhh, you’d know it if you tasted it.”

  “Hot, huh?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Megan teased, with the self-confident grin of a veteran chili taster.

  “Well, I’m starving right now. What do you say we go to dinner before I disgrace myself and gobble up all those Oaxaca cheese morsels when no one’s looking.”

  Megan laughed out loud, her red wine sloshing in her glass. “That would be pretty tacky. Let’s tell Allison where we’re going first.”

  Kelly looked back through the open doorway into the spacious meeting room where she and
Megan had just watched their friend from Fort Connor receive an award. “Southwestern Design Institute’s Wearable Fiber Artist of the Year. Not bad,” Kelly commented with a proud smile as she spotted Allison Dubois across the room, surrounded by other fabric and fiber artists.

  Kelly had no idea that such a thing as “wearable art” existed until she met Allison. Megan had met the young weaver-designer when Allison was teaching a class at their favorite knitting shop, House of Lambspun, and introduced them one afternoon around the cozy knitting table.

  Megan beamed. “Allison deserves it. She’s super talented and works hard. You know, she told me it took her twice as long to get her Master of Fine Arts degree because she was working two part-time jobs to stay in school.”

  “Whoa, that’s rough,” Kelly said in admiration. “I don’t know how she found time to create all that she has.”

  “She said she barely sleeps, and works way late each night, then crashes. Insomnia, apparently.”

  “And I thought my schedule was bad.”

  “I know. She’s unbelievable. I don’t know how she does it. I couldn’t keep those hours.” Megan waved towards Allison, who’d glanced their way.

  “I didn’t know how varied her work was until I saw her exhibition in Old Town,” Kelly said, as Allison returned Megan’s wave. “I mean, she started out with oils on canvas, then she went to painting on fabric, then weaving and designing.”

  Megan nodded. “And no matter how different each medium is, you can still see her design through them all. I guess that’s her artist’s eye. Me, I’d be happy to learn how to create one of those fantastic tops we saw today at Kristin’s shop.”

  “Now, that place is truly another world,” Kelly observed, remembering how she felt when she first stepped into the Santa Fe shop that specialized in wearable art.

  Kelly’s jaw had nearly dropped. She’d never seen clothes like that before. Every type of fabric and texture imaginable, combined into garments of all kinds. Gorgeous weavings, subtle and bold, vied with each other for attention. Hand-woven shawls of silk and wool, linen and cotton, were wrapped with vibrant belts. Sinfully soft wools were woven into tops adorned with draping cowl necklines, knitted with lacy yarns and threaded with ribbons or colorful beads.

  Everywhere Kelly looked, she saw one-of-a-kind art. Crushable velvets of antique bronze and dusky rose trimming a linen vest. Hand-dyed denim jackets with faux fur trim. Brocade bordering shirts, embroidered flowers and vines twining up shirt sleeves. Ribbons and beads woven into shawls, ponchos, and scarves. Hand-painted, long-fringed velvet shawls. Scrumptious chenille, springy linen, sensuous silk, sturdy denim, and suede as soft as a baby’s cheek.

  “She has fabulous things there. That’s why I couldn’t resist this,” Megan said, stroking the vivid sapphire-blue woven shawl that draped her body. A turquoise and emerald hand-painted silk belt cinched the shawl, accentuating her small waist. “I took one look, and I had to have it.”

  “You look wonderful in that color, Megan. The whole look suits you,” Kelly said, admiring shy Megan’s bold fashion statement. Megan was still school-girl shy in most things except colors. With her almost-black hair and porcelain complexion, Megan looked radiant in all the bright colors. In fact, Kelly couldn’t recall seeing her knit anything that wasn’t in a vivid hue.

  “And you looked great in that velvet shawl,” Megan reminded her for the third time that afternoon.

  Ever since they’d left Kristin’s shop on San Francisco Street, Kelly had been having a mental argument over the beautiful black velvet shawl she’d seen there. She had to admit it did look striking on her when she’d succumbed and tried it on. But where would she wear it? her nagging voice had whined.

  Now that she was telecommuting from Colorado to her Washington, D.C. corporate CPA firm, she no longer needed business suits or dressy outfits. She could sit in front of her computer in her favorite attire: Colorado-casual shorts or jeans, tee shirts, and sneakers. Furthermore, she was either working at the computer, knitting at House of Lambspun close to her home, or on the softball field with her friends. Face it, the voice nagged again, that shawl would sit in the drawer.

  “It was gorgeous, wasn’t it?” Kelly said with a sigh. “But, you know, I wouldn’t have any place to wear it. It would just sit in the drawer.”

  “C’mon, Kelly, that’s no excuse,” Megan scolded. “Sometimes we have to buy something simply because it’s beautiful, and it’s meant for us. That’s all. No other reason. Besides, those clothes are art. Heck, you could always hang it on your wall.”

  Kelly was trying to think of a reply to that novel suggestion but was spared the effort when Allison rushed up to them, out of breath, her fair skin flushed, her blue eyes huge.

  “Did you see her? Sophia Emeraud, the designer? I can’t believe she came all the way here from New York,” Allison exclaimed, brushing a lock of blonde hair from her face.

  “That’s because she loves your work,” Megan reminded her. “Besides, she probably wanted to meet you. After all, you’ll be joining her studio soon.”

  “Who would have thought those contest entries would be seen by so many designers,” Allison mused out loud, as if she were still surprised at her good fortune.

  “Hey, you deserve this break, Allison,” Kelly spoke up. “You’ve worked hard, and you’ve developed an incredible portfolio. I was really amazed when I saw all those pieces in the Fort Connor gallery. If we can see your talent, you better believe a professional designer like Sophia recognizes it.”

  “And don’t forget, she already used one of your weavings in her last show, and everyone loved it,” Megan added.

  Allison sighed. “I still can’t believe she asked for one of my pieces.”

  “Believe it,” Kelly ordered with a grin.

  “She looks fabulous, doesn’t she?” Allison gushed as she stared over her shoulder toward the tall brunette adorned in classic black. “I don’t know if I’m up to this or not. New York is going to be filled with all these gorgeous people!”

  “Yes, she’s stunning,” Kelly concurred with an indulgent smile. “But you’re just as beautiful, Allison. You’re a fresh-faced Colorado girl. And you’re as tall and willowy as any New York model. So, don’t be worrying about them.”

  “Kelly’s right,” Megan piped up. “And you are a designer. A New York designer, now.”

  Allison shook her head, golden hair brushing her shoulders. “It’s going to take a long time for this to settle. I still feel like I may wake up and find this is all a dream.”

  “It can’t be a dream, Allison, because Megan and I are in it, too, and I’m starving!” Kelly joked. “Hunger is as real as it gets. We were about to head for dinner, because we figured you’d be meeting with So-phee-ah.” She deliberately dragged out the syllables.

  “We’re going to have dinner at the restaurant in her hotel, so why don’t I meet you guys afterwards,” Allison suggested. “Where’re you heading?”

  “I’m leaving it up to Megan,” Kelly said. “She’s the expert in New Mexico cuisine.”

  Megan grinned. “I thought we’d try the old Spanish colonial hotel restaurant with the gorgeous patio. They have great food. Kelly needs to sample more sauces.”

  “Nothing too hot, promise?” Kelly warned as they turned to leave.

  Allison glanced back toward her future employer. “Okay, I’ll see you later, guys,” she said with a wave as she walked back into the adjoining room.

  “I can’t believe that dare-devil Kelly Flynn is afraid of a tiny little chile,” Megan teased as she and Kelly headed downstairs to the exit.

  “I’m not afraid of them,” Kelly countered. “Let’s just say I’m wary. They may be little but they’re powerful, and they always travel in a group.”

  Kelly leaned back into her high-backed wooden chair, having devoured the last morsel of her dinner. Chiles rellenos con queso. Delicate, mild, sweet green chiles stuffed with rich cheeses and simmered in a delicious sauce. Yum.


  The marvelous dinner had been worth the wait. She and Megan had arrived at the popular Santa Fe restaurant to discover that others had reservations, while they had none. Ravenous already, Kelly had lobbied to leave for another restaurant, but Megan insisted this one was worth waiting for.

  She was right. Everything from the wine list through the delicate soups to the delicious entrees—Kelly savored it all, much to the friendly waiter’s delight. Now she was fairly bursting, but the dessert tray looked tempting. Maybe a cup of coffee would help, she thought as she uttered a contented sigh.

  Megan laughed softly. “I take it you enjoyed the food?”

  “Absolutely,” Kelly said then drained the last of her sauvignon blanc. “Megan, you can choose restaurants for me anytime we travel together.”

  Megan gave a modest nod. “Thank you. I do appreciate good food.”

  “And I love to eat,” Kelly said with a laugh. “So, I’ll just follow you around.”

  “You up for dessert?”

  “I’d love some, but I think I’ll need a few minutes and some coffee first.” She glanced around the gracious patio-style restaurant with its colorful Spanish tile, hanging plants, and vivid paintings. All the tables were filled with diners who looked as contented as she felt.

  Megan gestured to the waiter. “Well, you can have your coffee. I can’t wait another moment for one of those yummy caramel custards.”

  Kelly chuckled as she watched Megan order dessert and coffee. “I don’t know where you put it all, Megan. You never gain an ounce. I’m going to have to double my workout after we return home tomorrow.”