Criminally Spun Out: Book 5 of the Fiber Maven's Mysteries Page 7

  “You think I didn’t see you snitching? You boys run along now.” They took off for the playground. Brad took a swig of his coffee.

  “He didn’t do it,” said Jed.

  “No time or motive but had to make sure. Wonder who else makes knots.”

  “Who on earth is going to tie a dropspindle to a shepherd’s car with a hangman’s noose? Who else would know how to make one?”

  “I got no idea, scoutmaster, maybe. You done eating?”

  “Yeah, that’s the last bite. You gonna eat those cookies?”

  “Nah, you take them. I got homework back at the office. You?”

  “Heading out to the health food store. Liam wanted to talk. He sounded worried.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “You’ve all done so well!” announced Dana in a satisfied voice. “You’ve spun and plied your yarn, settled it into its shape and dried it, and you’re all working on the patterns. Has anyone got any questions?”

  “My yarn seemed sort of bumpy. How do I get it to be smooth?”

  “It’s not unusual for a beginner’s yarn to have those bumps. As you practice, it gets smoother. It’s still usable and wearable. It might not weave as well, since the looms are so much fussier about that. However, my mother, who is an expert weaver, uses art yarns that have all sorts of bumps and additions, even locks, in her hangings. It gives them depth. I guess, short answer is to simply practice. Most spindles are pretty portable and you can use them anywhere you have a spare minute. I carry one along with me when I’m sitting in a waiting room for something.” She reached into her purse and pulled up a short fat spindle. “This is a Scottish spindle, notice how it’s shaped? It looks a little like a buoy, and the yarn goes around here, then through these slots at the bottom. The proper name is a dealgan. It’s heavy, much heavier than other spindles, and is used mostly for plying. There are lighter versions that are used for regular spinning but they aren’t as common. This one was used for plying heavy chunky wool yarn and is larger than most, being about a foot long and weighing in at just under six ounces, and that’s heavy for a spindle. Most weigh between an ounce and 2 ounces. I got the dealgan when I went to a Scottish fiber show. Right now, I’m making up a batch of highland wool for use in a vest a friend has ordered for Christmas. I’ve just started so I’ve got a ways to go to get the 700 yards she needs. I may use this to ply the chunky wool.”

  “Where do we get more roving? I mean, I know we have some here, but I’d like to work with some exotics. I’ve been reading on line about it.”

  “I’m stocking llama, alpaca, merino, and angora here at Fiber Mavens. You can go online and order just about anything, of course, like camel and yak and picuna. They can get pretty costly. And of course, fiber shows generally have a booth of exotic blends.” Dana answered questions, worked with the ladies, and they broke for refreshments and some shopping. Most of the women wanted to get more roving, and some wanted a couple more sizes of spindles. As the ladies were browsing, one of them invited Dana to come to some of the other classes.

  Over by the checkout counter, Sophia and Becky were talking with Casey.

  “Brad hasn’t got any clues who could be using the lost spindles?”

  Casey shook her head. “Not that he’s told me. We don’t talk cases usually.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” replied Sophia. “A perfectly good source tied up with red tape. You did hear about the drug store?”

  “No, what happened?”

  “It appears the spindle felons have hit again. Liam came in this morning and found several things missing and a spindle left hanging on the pharmacy door, which was closed and locked.”

  “What sorts of things?” asked Betsy as she paid for her roving.

  “That’s the odd part. They didn’t take drugs. They took size large disposable diapers, wipes, bottles, four of them, and three cans of formula.”

  “Really?” said Casey. “Sounds like a person with a child down on their luck and needing supplies.”

  “The stuff they took was worth under the amount that would make it be more than a misdemeanor,” chirped Annie, coming up to her mom. “I wonder how Liam is taking to being the victim this time?”

  “Annie,” warned her mother.

  “Well, you know, his brother and crazy sister last time did a lot of harm. This time, Liam is a victim and I just wondered,” she started but seeing the look on her mother’s face, stopped talking.

  Sophia nodded. “Yes, that would be odd, to be on this side of the crime this time.”

  “I’d not wish it on anyone,” said Dana coming up. “They hung one of the lost spindles on my truck last week, did you know? They didn’t seem to take anything or do anything but scare me.”

  “Thank goodness for that.”

  “Still, using a hangman’s noose to tie it was a little unsettling.”

  “Really?” asked Sophia. “Betsy, who would know how to do that? Do we have an executioner?”

  Betsy scoffed. “Of course not. We haven’t had anyone from here go to the electric chair in a hundred years. It would have to be someone who did macrame or something like that, or learned them like an ex-military person or a scout or something. We have two boy scout troops and one big girl scout troop and a church-based scout troop. I suppose it could be one of the scoutmasters, but you know they all have to be fingerprinted and such to do what they do so don’t think it’s likely.”

  “Allyssa, didn’t you have a macrame class a few years ago?” asked Jane. “I remember coming to it but couldn’t quite get enthused so I let it go. Who else was in that class? Let me think, dear Mildred, but she’s passed and that nice young fellow from the paint factory, what was his name? Don’t recall and I think he moved away. Rosemary, didn’t you take it?”

  Rosemary had been quiet up until now. She had stood by her friends’ side, just listening. “I did and I still make things. Mostly pot hangers and things for the grandchildren. I’ve not done any this summer; been too busy.”

  “Macrame?” came a voice. “Are we going to do macrame after spinning? I used to do that as a child. Heavens, that’s been years ago. Last thing I made was an odd wall-hanging for a high school home ec project. It didn’t turn out well, sort of off kilter and the skulls on it looked more like, I don’t know, something Picasso would do. Anyway, I got a C on it and never did it again. I might like to try it again.” Aurora stood next to Casey, holding a shopping bag and a cup of tea.

  “Skulls?” repeated Sophia.

  “I was going through a goth stage at 15. You know, black eye makeup and fingernails, plaid skirts, hair dyed black. I looked like something out of a horror movie. My mom sent me away to my Aunt Fran’s to get straightened out. Fran was a very fundamentalist lady and after a summer of ‘you are going to hell if you don’t clean up’, I cleaned up to get away and come home. That woman could pray the bark off a tree.”

  “Skulls?” repeated Sophia. “Where have I heard about skulls on a hanging before? Can’t place it.”

  “Well, skulls don’t need to be placed. Let’s go back to circle and practice. I want to help you all get ready for your next project and smooth some of your yarns’ plies.” said Dana.

  The ladies reassembled. Rosemary seemed particularly quiet this evening, gently letting her spindle drop, turn, and spin the roving as it seemed to magically twist in her hands before dropping down, ready to be added to the spindle, using up the roving in her hand. She thought it soothing and mesmerizing how it seemed to work itself into the proper placement. It almost made her sleepy. It wasn’t long and the class was over. She gathered her things, said her goodbyes and walked home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “You know if they had come in and asked, I’d have given them the herbs,” declared Angelina Carmichael. “I give out samples and such. I’ve never turned anyone away. There’s no need to steal.” She was jittery, anxiously filling out the police statement, distracting herself by moving things around on the counter. “I just don’t unde
rstand people.”

  “It’s a nice little store you’ve got,” replied Jed. “Opened what, last spring?”

  “Yes, Heavensent Herbs opened last spring and we carry a full line of everything herb from teas to poultices, to vitamins and herb wreaths – those are a big seller, they smell so good. And live herbs as well, and books and magazines about herbs. And we have our baby corner back here. It has herbs for babies who are teething or colicky, organic cotton diapers, organic baby formula, teething biscuits, things a new mom might need. I came in to be sure the shelves were all stocked and ready and that’s when I found it.”

  She led the way back to the corner. Two sides of the corner contained specific baby and toddler things: diapers, 100% cotton organic, some clothing and baby blankets, and even handmade afghans. There had been a display of a baby in a cotton baby sling. It was friendly and cheerful with a mobile hanging from the ceiling of little soft colorful birds. “I noticed when I came back to be sure everything was stocked, right here, someone took two cans of formula, diaper rash ointment, packaged herbs for colic and fever, two hemp baby blankets and menthol rub for colds. And the display baby in the sling had the drop spindle driven through her chest and she was hanging like that from the mobile. I left it and called right away. It’s sickening.”

  “Seems strange. You’ve touched nothing?”

  “Other than when I stocked it, not since.”

  Jed took pictures from every angle. He slid the impaled doll into an evidence bag. “Angelina, could you please make me an itemized list of whatever is missing? I need you to finish your statement while I’m checking things out as well. Just go up front, make your statement, just like you told me, write it down, sign and date it, then the next sheet I gave you is for the lost items.”

  “Why would someone stick a spindle in a doll?”

  Jed shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t like to not know. Let me call this in while you go up front and write your statement. We will get to the bottom of this. One more thing. Doesn’t your brother run the paint factory?”

  “That’s actually my husband. I got bored, I tried working for my husband and that just didn’t work, so I decided to take my herb hobby and start a store. Xavier is fine with it. He helped me get set up and told me it’s up to me to make it go, and so far, I’m doing fine. He says he can always use it as a tax write-off if I fail completely. I know, that sounds mean, but he’s a businessman right down to his bones. He’s been fine with this, happy when I’m happy, but he’s not going to be happy to hear about this.”

  “Well, if happened to my wife, I wouldn’t be either. You go write your statement and the inventory list and I’ll call this in. We will get to the bottom of this.” He noticed her hands were still trembling. “Are you ok? Do you need me to call someone?”

  “Oh, no, I’ll be fine. It’s just I can’t figure how they got in. The door was locked when I got here; it wasn’t like this when I left last night. I checked out back, I just don’t get it.”

  “I’ll check the back door. Do you have security cameras?”

  “They aren’t completely installed. They’re supposed to be done Friday. The man’s coming this afternoon.”

  “Ok. You go write, drink some of your calming tea, and let me check things out. There has to be a way to enter somehow.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “There!” Alan announced to no one in particular since he was the only one home. “Last online class completed and Monday I start staying on campus all week and coming home on weekends. Sure glad I decided to go to OSU. I can commute home if I’m needed and the way my classes are working out, I can be here on Mondays for work hours at Amanda’s office. I’ll work Sunday afternoon and all-day Monday, and head back to campus for four days of classes. I can spend Friday afternoons and Saturdays here at home.” He got up from his computer and out his apartment door, heading for the back steps that came out in the warehouse by his mom’s office.

  He heard laughter and paused. “Mom’s got that class going downstairs. Gracious! Betsy and Melody must be having a fine time, laughing so loud. Think I’ll sneak in back, get a couple of Hannah’s cookies and say hello.”

  He continued down the back stairs and in through the warehouse using his key. He entered the back of the store at the rear of the class. The ladies were up and milling around, chattering as usual. He picked up a chocolate brownie cookie and a macadamia nut cookie and a cup of coffee before he was spotted.

  “Ah, HA! Here to filch cookies just like when you were a little kid,” declared Melody with a grin. “My land! You’ve gotten so big!”

  “Hi, Mrs. Bibby,” he smiled back. “I’ve been wondering. Can you order text books?”

  “I sure can. You need one?”

  “I got a list here somewhere and I need it by end of next week for first class. Can they come that fast?”

  “I can get them here, I think. If you give me the list and write your number on it, I’ll call and let you know what I can get them for, and you see if it’s cheaper than the school bookstore. You want new or used?”

  “If it’s available used, that would be fine. I’d rather buy local if I can. Let me make a copy of the paper on the copier and then I’ll give it back. Come to think about it, I need to go buy my lab stuff, too. Good grief, college is expensive.”

  He took the paper and went in back to his mom’s office. He stopped at the door. Annie was slumped on the floor by the office. He knelt down and checked her pulse; she was alive. He took out his cell and called 9-1-1. Then he started yelling for his mom.

  Allyssa came running, all the ladies trailing behind. When Casey saw her daughter, she darted ahead. She gently turned her over, keeping her neck straight.

  “She’s alive, I’ve called the ambulance,” sputtered Alan.

  “Annie, Annie! Come on, honey, say something.” demanded Casey.

  Amanda knelt next to her. She felt for a pulse, pulled open an eye, closed it. “She’s been hit in the head from behind, I think. What was she doing back here instead of up front?”

  “She took the babies back in their stroller because they needed changed and I told her there was a table right around the corner to change them. It would be more private and better than the ladies room.” Casey got up and went over to the stroller then screamed out loud. “The babies! Where did she put the babies? They’re not here!”

  “What? The babies?” demanded Allyssa. She spun around, her eyes searching the warehouse. Casey ran around the corner and frantically looked around. “Here’s the changing pad, she must have been starting to change them when whoever hit Annie came in. My babies are gone!” She ran to the back door which was closed.

  “Don’t touch anything!” declared Alan. “Let’s call the sheriff. We’ll just mess up fingerprints if we touch anything.”

  Casey had her phone out. “Brad, the babies are gone, Annie’s hurt, I need you now! Come now! Yes, you heard what I said. Someone took Kai and Enya and hurt Annie. An ambulance is coming.” She turned around and looked back, then slowly walked over to the stroller. “And the stroller has a spindle hanging from the handle by a hangman’s loop. My God! It has blood on it.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Jed was at the pastor’s house when the call came in. He’d been discussing with the boys and their father the relative merits of putting feral cats into crabby ladies’ cars and why that was most likely not a way to advance in school, especially if the lady in question was the vice-principal.

  “You do realize they are going to figure out who put the cat there?” asked the deputy.

  “It wasn’t,” started David who saw the look on his dad’s face and relented. “Well, ok, it was me. But she was ragging on me and my new sister about hanging out on the playground after school.”

  “You two were late getting home, but you didn’t tell me you’d been getting scolded,” said his dad quietly.

  “It didn’t seem like a good thing to bring up since I already lost us our dessert at s
upper,” he responded.

  “So, this time, your little brother came home alone and on time, instead of being accompanied by his big brother keeping him safe. You let a six-year-old walk home from school alone?” demanded his father. “You mom is madder than I’ve ever seen her.”

  “That wasn’t any reason to give him my pudding.” David grouched, his face a study in misery. “And it had chocolate chips in it, too.”

  “I think you mother would say differently. Now, about your new foster sister; what exactly were you two doing?”

  “She wants to be a major league baseball player and I was helping her practice her batting. I’d pitch and you know she can hit anything! No matter if I threw it high, low or outside she hit it. She’s amazing! I can’t wait to have her on my team at recess,” then his face fell. “Well, if I ever have another recess.”

  “Where’d you get the cat?” prompted the deputy.

  “Well, after Ms. Bronson stopped fussing and went back inside the school, we left but we cut across the field to get home faster and we found the cat out behind the grocery jumping up into the dumpster. I caught it and we wrapped it up because it was sort of feisty. It scratched Emory. We thought we were going to bring it home to tame it down but then we thought about the scolding and we both sort of thought of it at the same time. You know Ms. Bronson hates cats; she said so.”

  “Uh-hum. She doesn’t hate cats; she’s allergic to cats. She’s got to have the interior of her car professionally cleaned. And you thought she’d like a cat in her car, tearing up the stuff in there, trying to find a way out, making messes and spraying all over the inside of the car, did you? Did you not think she’d see you two around her car? She could see you through the window. She caught you red-handed.” Jed shook his head. “I guess I’ve got no other recourse. You’ve sullied the honor of your badge. I’ll have to give it to Brad.”

  “But I’m one of his irregulars! We have a meeting tomorrow. Brad’s bringing brownies and giving us assignments!” protested the boy.