Knit One, Kill Two by Maggie Sefton

Author:Maggie Sefton [Sefton, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Mystery, Adult
ISBN: 9780425203590
Publisher: Berkley Book
Published: 2005-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“I’ll let you ladies out here,” Steve said and aimed the truck to the side of a huge exhibition building, away from the packed parking areas. “That way you won’t have to walk far. The entrance is right around the corner.” He pointed toward the crowd of people milling around the front.

Kelly was amazed at how many people were already at the festival, and it was only mid-morning. She couldn’t remember being at these fairgrounds before. Maybe they were new, she thought, as she read the signs hanging over several of the barns spread out in a horseshoe. Sheep. Alpaca. Llamas.

“Oh, thank you, Steve, dear. You’re such a gentleman,” Lizzie said. “Isn’t he, Kelly?”

“Oh, indeed, he is, Lizzie,” Kelly agreed, trying not to smile as she shouldered open the passenger door of Steve’s big red truck. Glad she’d worn sneakers and jeans, Kelly easily hopped to the ground and offered her hand to Lizzie. Even with the built-in step below the running board, the petite little knitter would need help making it to the ground.

Now that she was back in the West, Kelly reacquainted herself quickly with the oversized vehicles that filled city streets and county roads as well as interstates—the Serious Trucks, or as her dad used to say, “trucks with attitude.” Kelly wondered if every owner needed a whole cavalry worth of horsepower and towing capacity, especially when she saw most of them parked outside grocery stores, garden centers, and fast food restaurants—sparkling clean with nary a speck of dirt of them. She checked out the huge tires on Steve’s truck. They were caked with mud.

She wasn’t surprised. Thanks to Lizzie, Kelly had heard about Steve’s latest building project, his next development planned north of town, how he started his business, his college career, all the academic as well as athletic honors, why he chose getting his hands dirty building houses after obtaining his architect’s degree rather than working in an office, his family’s connections to Fort Connor, and on and on. Kelly was truly impressed at Lizzie’s grilling techniques. She’d put any corporate interviewer to shame. Kelly half-expected Lizzie to ask Steve his bank balance.

To Steve’s credit, he’d tried several times on the hour-long ride into the mountains to change the conversation. Kelly would pick up his lead and Lizzie would cooperate for a few minutes. Or until one of them stopped for a breath. Then, straight as any marksman who’s found his target, she’d return to probing Steve.

Steve would catch Kelly’s eye overtop Lizzie’s immaculately coiffed silver-gray hair and grin, then politely, good-naturedly answer her questions.

“Grab hold, and I’ll help you down, Lizzie,” Kelly offered.

Lizzie scooted herself to the edge of the seat, which was difficult because she was wearing yards of rose pink cotton, gathered fetchingly with, what else, but white lace. “Oh my,” she declared, eyes wide. “It’s so far down.”

“Don’t worry, Lizzie. Let me help you.” Steve stepped up and in one smooth movement had picked up Lizzie and deposited her safely on the ground.

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