Knit One, Kill Two Page 15

“He’s having none of this,” Steve observed as he drew beside her.

  Kelly chuckled. “You know, it’s been ages since I’ve been around farm animals. I’d forgotten how much fun it was.”

  “It’s fun to watch, all right. But if you have to clean up after them, that’s another story.” Steve shoved his hands in his back pockets. “Helen told me they had sheep in the early days, until it cost them more to raise than they fetched at market.”

  Kelly closed her eyes to recall. “You know, I can still remember the sheep. It was when I was real little. Then they sold them off.” She shook her head. “It just didn’t pay in those days. If Uncle Jim hadn’t had his job with the state highway department, they never would have made it. Finally, he started boarding peoples’ horses, and that helped a lot. At least it allowed them to keep the farm.”

  “Let’s go over there,” Steve said, pointing across the barn. “That’s the best of breed awards.”

  They skirted around the younger animals, and Kelly spotted the huge adult sheep. Wow. She’d forgotten how big the woolly creatures could get. A huge black ram strutted past them, head high, clearly lord of the realm. Kelly had to agree. He was magnificent.

  As she and Steve strolled slowly around the fenced judging area, Kelly noticed three men standing and talking. Two were dressed in corporate attire—suits, ties, and shiny shoes—definitely out of place in a barn where one could, and frequently did, step in something. The other man, taller than his companions, was dressed appropriately in Colorado Cowboy Modern—jeans, boots, denim shirt, and a Stetson. Something about the man was familiar, and Kelly found herself staring. Fortunately, the man was actively listening to his companions and didn’t notice her.

  “I thought we’d spy Lizzie here,” Steve spoke up. “She was headed down toward the livestock barns a little while ago.”

  “Lizzie was heading to the livestock barns?” Kelly repeated, surprised for some reason. Dainty little Lizzie didn’t strike her as a budding alpaca breeder. Of course, she could have been after the wool.

  Steve shrugged. “Well, that’s where I assumed she was going. She was actually talking to one of the Scottish bagpipers when I saw her, but they were close to the barns, so I figured—”

  Kelly grabbed his arm. “Wha-what did you say?”

  “I said she was talking to one of the bagpipers.” Steve peered at her. “Anything wrong?”

  The memory of Lizzie’s curiosity about the Scotsman’s undergarments suddenly flashed through Kelly’s mind, along with Megan’s earlier warning: “Keep an eye on Lizzie. She’s prone to mischief.”

  “Oh my gosh,” breathed Kelly. “We’d better find her. Now!” She turned and raced from the barn.

  “Why? Hey, where’re—?” Steve called out then hastened after her. “What’s the matter?” he demanded when he caught up.

  “Megan warned me to keep an eye on Lizzie before we split,” Kelly explained while they threaded their way through masses of people. The crowds had increased since morning. “She said Lizzie could get into mischief. I didn’t know what she meant until now.”

  “What kind of mischief is she talking about? I mean, she’s nearly seventy, isn’t she?”

  “That may be, but Lizzie was transfixed by the bagpipers earlier, particularly one of them she described as ‘a handsome devil.’ ” Hearing Steve’s laughter, Kelly shot him a look. “It’s not funny.”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Not when her last question to me when we entered the hall was, ‘What do Scotsmen wear beneath their kilts?’ ” Kelly noticed heads turning on that one, and the crowd seemed to part around her. She felt Steve’s hand on her arm.

  “Wait a minute,” he said between spurts of laughter. “You can’t seriously think that sweet little old lady would . . .” He gestured aimlessly.

  “I don’t know, but I don’t want to find out, either. Megan will kill me when she finds out,” Kelly declared.

  “Kill you when I find out what?” Megan asked, drawing beside them. She took a big bite of a chili dog.

  Kelly decided she’d better wait until Megan swallowed or they’d have to stop the Lizzie search and administer the Heimlich maneuver on Megan. “Uhhh, we’re just looking for Lizzie. Steve saw her around the barns. We don’t want her to get lost.”

  Megan gulped. “Lizzie? Where is she? What’s she doing?” She peered around the crowds.

  “Well, you said to keep an eye on her.” Kelly angled toward the sheep barn once more, craning her neck to see around the crowds. “Where did you see her, Steve?”

  “Actually, she was right beside the barn when—” He stopped and pointed. “Wait a minute, isn’t that her right over there?”

  Kelly followed the line of sight and caught a glimpse of an unmistakable pink cotton skirt fluttering in the spring breeze. People were still blocking her view, but it had to be Lizzie, she thought with a sigh of relief. “Oh, good, there she is,” she said and hastened to shepherd the wayward little knitter back into the fold. Until Steve reached out and caught her arm.

  “Wait, hold on,” Steve said as he peered above the crowds. “Uh oh . . .”

  “What? What’s the matter?” Megan demanded, weaving side to side, trying to see around people. “What’s she doing?”

  Steve started to laugh. “You . . . you don’t wanta know,” he managed before he bent over double, laughing.

  Kelly’s heart skipped a beat, and she shouldered her way between two husky men so she could see what Steve was talking about. When she did, she came to an abrupt halt and stared, mouth open.

  There was Lizzie, all right, but she wasn’t alone. She was still talking with the tall, handsome-devil Scotsman. Talking and looking. The Scotsman stood, hands on hips, while Lizzie demurely held up his plaid kilt, observed for a few seconds, then lowered it once again.

  Kelly saw a slight movement to her left. Megan’s chili dog dropped to the dirt. She stared horrified, face beet-red. Steve, meanwhile, was still bent over with silent laughter, hands on his knees. Obviously, it would be up to her to handle the situation, Kelly decided, and snapped out of shock mode. She cleared her throat and yelled, “Lizzie! We need you back with the others now!”

  Lizzie turned and waved, smiling brightly. “Coming, dears,” she chirped as if nothing unusual had just occurred.

  “Oh . . . my . . . God . . .” Megan whispered. “I don’t believe she did that.”

  “Believe it. Now I know what you mean by mischief,” Kelly said, shaking her head.

  Meanwhile, Lizzie was bidding farewell to the grinning bagpiper, who kissed her hand before she rejoined them. That seemed to delight her no end. “What an adorable and obliging gentleman,” she cooed, when she rejoined them.

  Kelly grabbed Lizzie’s elbow and steered her back toward the exhibition hall. “That’s an understatement,” she muttered to Megan, who still had a slightly glazed look.

  Steve had finally stopped laughing, out loud at least. “Folks, I’ve got the loom all loaded and tied down, so whenever you want or need to head back into town, let me know.”

  “Ohhh, thank you, dear,” Lizzie said. “But I haven’t even seen the wool exhibits yet.”

  Kelly shot Steve an I-don’t-believe-she-said-that look, and he turned his head to hide more laughter.

  When they approached the hall entrance, Megan stepped up and encircled Lizzie’s arm possessively. “Now, Lizzie, you’re going to stay with me while we see the exhibits, okay? No disappearing allowed, understand?” She leveled a stern gaze at Lizzie.

  Clearly unflappable and unfazed, Lizzie beamed. “Of course, dear. We’ll see everything together. Oh, do you think we might have a spot of lunch, first? I’m simply famished.”

  “Let’s meet the others first. Then we’ll all go together,” Megan agreed, then turned to Steve. “Listen, Peggy is staying here with a weaver she knows, so I’ll be able to take everyone back with me, Steve
. You and Kelly can go on back into town. Kelly, I know you’ve just gotten your accounts, so you’re probably swamped.”

  “You sure you won’t need any more help?” Kelly gestured, adding pointedly, “I mean, can you handle everything?”

  Megan nodded in schoolmarm fashion. “Oh, yes. We’re meeting the others in ten minutes. I’ll have some help then. Don’t worry. We’re fine now. Ready, Lizzie?”

  “Oh my, yes,” she enthused. “I’m so excited.”

  Megan refrained from comment, instead guiding Lizzie through the entrance.

  Kelly stood, hands on hips, and shook her head, watching the little round knitter wave good-bye before she disappeared inside the hall. “But, I haven’t seen the wool exhibits, dear,” she said, in a breathless imitation of Lizzie.

  “I think she’s seen enough,” Steve said with a laugh.

  It was contagious, and Kelly joined in, laughing at the bizarre scene they’d just witnessed. No one at the shop would believe it. Or maybe they would. After all, they’ve known Lizzie longer. How on earth would she explain it to Mimi?

  “My truck is parked on the other side of the building,” Steve said, looking over the crowd. “We can stop for some coffee on the way out if you want to leave now.”

  Kelly’s taste buds tingled in anticipation. She was about to reply when a man’s voice caught her attention, and she turned around. There were the men she’d noticed from the sheep barn, standing only a few feet behind them. City Suit was introducing a fourth man to Colorado Cowboy. Something he’d said caught her attention, what was it?

  “What are—” Steve started then paused, when she held up her hand. She focused on the group, blatantly eavesdropping.

  “Jeff,” City Suit said to the newcomer. “I want you to meet Curt Stackhouse. He’s been good enough to guide us through this land deal.”

  Kelly drew in a deep breath, observing Colorado Cowboy as he smiled and shook hands all around. Of course, she thought. That’s why he looked familiar earlier. He’s got the same smile. The same face. Older, of course.

  “Do you know them?” Steve asked in a low voice.

  “Well, not really, but . . .” she hesitated, wondering how she would explain. More importantly, now that she found Stackhouse, how would she introduce herself, let alone ask him questions?

  “Well, you’re sure acting funny,” Steve observed.

  Suddenly Kelly got a wild idea. She’d need Steve’s cooperation, though. It was crazy, but it was the only chance she had. Now that she’d found Stackhouse, she wasn’t about to lose him until she knew where he lived. “Uh, Steve, would you be willing to . . . to . . . uh, take a ride with me?” she ventured.

  “We’re already planning to take a ride back into town, remember?” he joked.

  “I mean another ride. Before we go home.”

  “I guess that depends on where.”

  She exhaled a breath. “I don’t know yet. Wherever that tall guy in the Stetson is going. Once he splits from the city guys, I mean.” She gestured behind her.

  Steve peered first at the men then at her. “And why do you want to follow him?”

  “Well . . . it’s a long story,” she confessed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure they were still there. “Let’s just say I need to know where this guy lives, so I can talk with him. Ask him some questions.”

  “Why don’t you talk with him now? He’s right behind you.” Steve was observing her very carefully.

  “Uhhh, it’s kinda hard to explain—”

  “Try.”

  “Too many people around. It . . . it has to do with Helen,” she admitted finally.

  “With Helen or with what happened?” he probed.

  Kelly met his level gaze. “He’s a link to her past. And I’m hoping he knows something or someone. I’ll . . . I’ll explain later.”

  Steve stared at the men again for a long moment. “It’ll be tricky. We don’t know where he’s parked or what he’s driving.”

  Kelly pondered that for a minute. “Well, I could follow him while you get the truck, but we’d have to meet . . .”

  “I know. Give me your cell phone,” he said, hand outstretched.

  Kelly dug into her pocket and withdrew the phone. Steve took it, punched in numbers, then returned it. “That’s my cell number. You follow this guy while I get the truck. I’ll park along the side of the road over there and wait.” He pointed past the gates. “Call me when you’ve seen him getting into his vehicle, then come out to the road where I can pick you up, okay?”

  Great idea, Kelly had to admit. “Okay, got it.” She nodded, then teased. “You sound like you’ve done this before.”

  “Just don’t lose him,” Steve advised, turning back into the crowd. “This better be good, Kelly,” he called over his shoulder.

  Eleven

  “Mimi thought you might know this guy or his family,” Kelly said, observing the new spring grass that stood a foot tall beside the winding road. “She said your father knew all the ranchers in the area.”

  “Stackhouse, Curtis Stackhouse,” Steve repeated as he guided the truck around a curve. “That name is vaguely familiar, so I must have heard of him or met him once. Heck, it could have been years ago or last month. I meet a lot of landowners in my business. Some are ranchers, others want to be. And those guys definitely looked like buyers.”

  “You mean the ‘suits’?”

  Steve grinned. “Yeah, the city suits. They’re buying land. You can smell it. Either for themselves or for a developer. I’ll bet on the developer.”

  “Well, one guy said Stackhouse was ‘guiding’ them through a deal, so maybe you’re right.” Kelly focused on the big black truck farther ahead.

  Their plan had worked perfectly, much to Kelly’s relief. She’d merged with the crowd behind Stackhouse and companions and followed him all the way from their goodbyes to his meandering stroll past the wool barns and a quick striding search for his parked truck. Once she’d glimpsed the mud-splattered vehicle and memorized the license plate, she phoned Steve and hastened to find him. They only had to wait a few minutes before Stackhouse’s truck appeared, and they followed a safe distance behind. Now they were nearly out of the canyon leading from the national park and approaching the outskirts of the smaller towns surrounding Fort Connor.

  “Should you speed up? We don’t want to lose him when he gets to the edge of town,” she urged.

  “We’re fine, relax. Besides, I’ve got some questions. You spent a lot of time explaining about this cousin Martha and how she got here from Wyoming and how close she was with Helen and how she was worried that someone from Helen’s past came back to ‘haunt’ her. Then you searched the cottage and found the yearbook and Stackhouse’s photo.”

  Kelly watched the mouth of the canyon open wide as the road straightened onto a rock-rimmed meadow. She sensed Steve zeroing in on the pertinent details she’d left unsaid. He didn’t miss much, she’d noticed. “That’s right.”

  “There’s something you’re not saying, I can tell. It makes no sense that a sweet lady like Helen would have done anything to cause a successful rancher like this Stackhouse to threaten her. Unless they were both involved in something illegal, like running drugs. But I kind of doubt Helen was a drug dealer.” Steve glanced at Kelly. “So finish the story. Tell me what you’re holding back. If you’re worrying about Helen’s privacy, don’t. I promise I won’t repeat what you say to a soul. Helen was pretty special to me, too.”

  Kelly believed him. “Yeah, you’re right,” she admitted with a sigh. “Sorry, it’s hard to explain. That’s why I’m being so closed-mouthed. I’ve only told my friends at the shop, because I don’t want anyone to think less of Helen.”

  “That would be impossible. Unless she really was a drug dealer,” he joked.

  Steve’s laughter helped Kelly let go. She proceeded to tell him the story.

  “W
ow,” Steve said softly. “Any chance your Uncle Jim could be the father?”

  “Nope,” Kelly said with a shake of her head. “He told me he met Helen on a blind date when he arrived in town and bought the farm.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I said, too.”

  “And Helen was worried about this person?”

  “She was worried about something, according to Martha.”

  “And no trace of the child’s records?”

  “None. I went through every drawer and cabinet and crevice, believe me. The only clue I found was that yearbook photo and the inscription from Stackhouse.”

  Steve shook his head. “I gotta tell you, Kelly, that’s pretty slim.”

  “Don’t I know it, but it’s all I’ve got,” Kelly admitted.

  “How does the money play into it?”

  Kelly shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe this person was blackmailing her or threatened her somehow. Maybe she tried to pay him off to leave her alone.”

  “Have you thought about what kinds of questions you’re going to ask this guy? I mean, how’re you going to approach him?”

  “I’m still working on that,” Kelly confessed.

  “Well, work on it faster, because Stackhouse just put on his turn signal,” Steve warned. “Bet he’s taking that county road on the left.”

  Kelly felt her throat tighten. What would she say? She had to be careful not to arouse his suspicions. “Oh boy, well, I know I have to ease into it. I mean, I can’t make him suspicious.” She watched the huge black truck ahead and, sure enough, it turned left on the next road.

  Steve slowed down, too. “I’m going to drop back a little so we won’t be right on his tail.”

  It was all Kelly could do to hold her impatience in check while Steve deliberately waited for a long line of cars to pass in the opposite lane before he turned onto the county road. As they created the hilly road, she relaxed. There, farther ahead, was the truck. “Thank goodness,” she breathed.

  “Okay, we’ve gotta have a cover story to explain why we’re driving up on this guy’s property.”