Last Wool and Testament: A Haunted Yarn Shop Mystery (30 page)

“No. So let’s turn the problem over and study its reverse,” I said. “We won’t look for his victims. We’ll look for his patterns.”

“I love it,” Debbie said. “Sample, sample, sample. Ivy’s weaving mantra. We look at Emmett like a tricky design problem and we work out the solution by constructing samples. What if, what if, what if.”

“We’ll need information,” Mel said.

I held up my thumb drive. “Files galore.” I looked at Joe again. “They’re, um, uncensored.”

“Only makes sense,” he said. “You’ll give us access?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

He snorted, almost smiled. Ruth showed the only reluctance. She might have been the only one with sense. They all listened to my summary of the data on hand. They nodded when I pointed out the gaps. Only Ruth asked a question.

“You realize you might stir up a murderer? And it might be someone we know?”

“Every murderer is probably somebody’s old friend,” Thea said. “That’s not me. That’s Agatha Christie, queen of mystery.”

I made eye contact with each of the others. All nodded.

I made arrangements to copy the files onto flash drives and distribute them. Ernestine insisted I take the needles and yarn so I could finish the hat. Mel mouthed “no slackers.” Ruth caught my eye and I waited for her outside the workroom.

“I can’t be part of this,” she said when we were alone in the hall. “For the sake of Homer’s position. I hope you understand.”

“I do. Can I ask you not to tell him, though?”

She hesitated before answering, and I liked her for that. “I won’t unless I see a need to. And, Kath? Be very careful.”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

I couldn’t find Geneva. She didn’t answer when I went back to Granny’s study and called, didn’t shimmer into sight when I stood listening. I looked around the store, didn’t know what else to do. I finally left, wondering if taking a ghost to town had been like letting loose an
unknown virus. When I got to my car, Joe was leaning against it, sans knitting.

“Well, aren’t you the mysterious man of many talents? A regular Renaissance burglar.”

“Funny, Ivy never mentioned your rapier sarcasm.”

“It’s my secret weapon. She rarely saw it. Did you want something?”

“Couple of things,” he said. “Why don’t I copy the files? Save you time and trouble.”

“I don’t know.” It suddenly felt as though we were negotiating something. A trade? A truce? “What else?”

“I want to search the cottage. With your permission.”

“With my permission. And with my help.”

Chapter 31

W
e agreed he’d come over at six. With a pizza.

“You have the files backed up in case there’s a problem?” he asked.

“Yes, and for another kind of backup, I’m going to let Ardis know you’re coming over.”

“Good idea,” he said, without any sign he was insulted by that precaution.

I handed him the flash drive and hoped Ardis’ and Granny’s trust in him was merited. I drove back to the cottage wondering if a ghost could be trusted at all.

Bees buzzed in the lavender by the doorstep. The lavender’s spice brushed my nose as I passed. I unlocked the door and stepped into hell.

The smell hit me first. Vomit. And worse. I should have run back out, would have, but I saw Nicki lying half in, half out of the pantry. In a pool of bloody vomit. I added my own vomit to the floor, then went to her. Knelt beside her. No pulse. No breath. Cold, cold, cold. But she must be alive, because out of the corner of my eye her leg moved. Slithered. Rattled? Not her leg. What…oh dear God.

The world shrank to the size of a snake. The world didn’t have to shrink far. It was a big snake. A big, provoked, diamond-patterned snake and, as close as we
were—me kneeling and it coiling, me shaking and it rattling, me staring into its black, black, unblinking, bottomless eyes—things didn’t look good for us ending up buddies.

The strike was like lightning. The bite like fire. My scream would have been endless, but a gray cloud descended, surrounding me, driving the snake away.

“Even the meanest snakes can’t abide me. It’s very sad,” Geneva said.

I started to cry.

“It’s not that sad.
I
don’t much care for
them
.”

She hummed “Shall We Gather at the River?” and I wondered how long before I slipped under those waters and didn’t have to listen to her anymore.

“Oh, but I have good news. Perhaps I should have mentioned it first. Em and I watched a television documentary about surviving wilderness medical emergencies, so I know exactly what to do for snakebite. For some species, unfortunately, that isn’t much. I wish I remembered which ones. But the important thing is to remain calm. So you close your eyes and think peaceful thoughts while I keep all the snakes away.”

“All?”

“Three or four, it’s hard to say. Close your eyes. Don’t worry. I’m here.”

I did close my eyes, but only so I wouldn’t see three or four snakes sizing me up.

“You’re dying more neatly than Em did or this poor girl must have.”

Oh my God, how had I forgotten Nicki? Lying right there in her own…“Talk to me about something nice? Please?”

“I’ll tell you about Em. He was darling, though he really wasn’t much to look at. He had ginger hair and it stuck up here and there in funny places because of cowlicks. And he had a bald spot right on top. And I imagine
his breath was fairly awful on account of his teeth. But if you ignored his teeth, he had the sweetest smile, and he never said a harsh word to me.” She sighed at the happy memory of a rancid blackmailer who never knew she existed.

“Where did you go this afternoon? How did you get home?”

“I went to look for the horses in case you’d lied. But you were right and that made me sad, so I sat by myself in the backseat of your car. I didn’t feel like talking on the drive home. You’re not dying very fast, are you? How do you feel?”

Not so bad. I opened my eyes a crack. I was huddled against the shelves just inside the pantry. Nicki lay beside me. I closed my eyes again. “Where are the snakes?”

“The far corner. They’ll stay.”

I gulped air and opened my eyes again, turning them and my hands, by slow degrees, to assess the damage to my hip where the snake had struck, peeling my jeans open, inching them down to investigate the horror, the swelling, the blackening flesh, the…lifesaving, snakebitten phone in my pocket? Surprisingly, it still worked.

Both Dunbars arrived about six. Clod first, in response to my 911 call, looking wary and with a seriously overdone bandage on his nose. Then Joe, wild-eyed, with a spinach-mushroom pizza, seconds behind the ambulance.

Nicki didn’t need the EMTs. Neither did I, but for a different reason. I had a bruise where the snake slammed into the phone, but that was all. There were a lot of questions. For Clod, the broken window in the pantry and the cloth bag under Nicki’s body answered two. I couldn’t help with many others and when I told him I didn’t agree with his answers, he turned my new philosophy against me.

“Why not? Window’s broken, she’s here, snakes are
here, cloth bag is an approved way to carry snakes, snakes bite. Simple.”

Simple
didn’t explain
why
. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Nobody was happy about the snakes.

I closed my eyes when the EMTs pulled the zipper on the long black bag and carried the bag out. When I opened them again, Joe stood at the pantry door, eyeing the snakes.

“You really think she brought them with her in that bag?” he asked. “Weird the way they stay in the corner. Maybe I can scoop them up with a shovel. Put them in a box or something.”

“I can get them with my gun,” Clod said.

“You are not shooting snakes in this house,” I said.

“I know what we do,” said Joe. “Ruth told me Homer has one of the Smoky Carlins working for him. They’re snake handlers.”

Clod’s answer was a sneer. Then he shrugged. “Sure. Better him than me. Hell of a thing to happen is all I can say.”

Clod took the pizza, which neither Joe nor I had the stomach for, and he left to search Nicki’s apartment. Joe, one eye on the snakes still huddling in the far corner of the pantry, quietly cleaned the floor where Nicki had lain and I’d added my own contribution. I sat at the kitchen table, arms wrapped around my knees, which I’d pulled to my chest. No way were my feet touching the floor, ever, until Geneva could tell me all the snakes were gone. I wasn’t sure I trusted anyone else to know.

“You all right?” Joe asked.

I felt as though I’d been beaten by sticks for days on end. “I didn’t know there were snake handlers around here.”

“A few congregations. Mostly in the mountains.” He came and sat opposite me, propping his forehead on the
heels of his hands. “What was she doing? What in God’s name was she thinking?”

“Was she searching for something Emmett left? That’s what you were going to do.”

“With snakes? I don’t know. Doesn’t feel right.”

Nothing about any of it felt right. “We need to call Ardis and Debbie and Mel and the rest. Call off the posse.”

“Why?” His surprise surprised me.

“Killer snakes? What if Nicki didn’t bring them? What if she just found them? Ruth warned us we might stir up a murderer. I can’t put anyone else’s life at risk. Who knows what might be next?”

“Hold on,” he said. “Slow down. Nicki was dead at least an hour before you found her. The EMTs were talking about it. You didn’t hear that?”

“I was trying not to and I’m not sure I want to hear it now, either.”

“Hey, shhh, now, shhh. It’s going to be okay. Carlin will be here soon. He’ll catch the snakes. I’ll get that window boarded up. It’s going to be okay. But I need to tell you what the EMTs said. It isn’t nice to hear, but it’s important. She didn’t die right away. And probably not from the bite. Not from the venom in the way you’d think. Although a bite in the face like that…anyway, they think she had an allergic reaction. That she died of anaphylactic shock. And if she hadn’t been alone and hadn’t panicked, she might’ve survived that, too, because most people do survive snakebites. But what all this means is that she was bitten and in extremis at least an hour before you talked to anybody at the meeting. She probably came here soon after she left the Cat. So this has nothing to do with the posse. Nothing to do with Em’s blackmail.”

“But then what
does
it have anything to do with? What was she doing?”

“Scaring you? Warning you? She knew you were over at the house this morning with Ardis and Cole.”

“But why? Nicki and snakes? They don’t go together. And warning me about what?”

“That would be the danger in unfinished or cryptic messages,” he said.

“That and innocent bystanders ending up dead.”

“But was Nicki either innocent or a bystander?”

Clod had the answer to that when he called from her apartment.

Chapter 32

“I
believe we’ve solved ourselves a crime wave.” That drawled gloat was Clod’s way of saying hello on the phone. “Your Ms. Keplinger’s been a busy little body,” he said, being his usual offensive self. He also didn’t bother to listen for reactions or questions that might come from my end. “As soon as Carlin’s been by for the snakes, I’d like you to come on over here and take a look. I just might have found your tapestry for you. Oh, and hey, ask Carlin if he wrangles cats in his spare time. She’s got a mean one. I’d like to shoot
it
.”

When Carlin did show, I was disappointed. He brought more cloth bags. I wanted something made out of six-inch steel with an industrial padlock.

“Don’t that beat all,” he said when he saw the snakes behaving themselves in the corner of the pantry. “Next time take a broom and sweep them into something like a garbage can. That’s all you need.”

“I thought about scooping them with a shovel,” Joe said.

“That would work, too. No need to call me, really. Look at them sitting there so meek and mild. What’s the matter, fellers?” he crooned to the snakes. “Did you get yourselves spooked by all the big bad commotion? Look at you. I can just come on in there and pick you up.”

“Please don’t,” I said.

“I’ll go get the catching stick, then,” he said.

“Why didn’t he bring that in to begin with?” I whispered to Joe when Carlin went back to his truck.

“Because I think he
can
just pick them up,” Joe said.

Even with the stick, I couldn’t bear to watch and went into the parlor. Geneva, relieved of her guard duty, floated in after me.

“There were only three snakes, not four,” she said, “and that man stroked the biggest one on the back of its head. I would rather have a kitten. Did you know your life is almost as exciting as reruns of
Hawaii Five-0
? What shall we do next?”

“I have to go to Nicki’s. Can you stay here, keep an eye on the place?”

“Shhh,” she said.

“What?”

“Shhh. Your gentleman friend is standing behind you wondering to whom you are speaking.”

I turned around, no doubt looking as off-kilter as I’d sounded, but figuring it didn’t matter. It was that kind of evening.

“Carlin’s gone,” Joe said. “Strange guy. Put the snakes in the bags, put the bags in a foam cooler, and carried them out like he’d stopped by the Quickie Mart for a twelve-pack and ice.”

I wondered how long it would be before the idea of setting foot inside the Quickie Mart quit giving me the yips.

“I called Ardis,” he said.

“Oh God. Thank you. Poor Ardis.”

“Yeah. There wasn’t any easy way to put it. Um, did you want me to stay here while you go to Nicki’s?”

“Hm? Oh. No.” I didn’t explain, but when he said maybe he should drive, I let him.