Free Murder of a Needled Knitter by Denise Swanson Page B

noon.”
    â€œWas she here?”
    â€œNo.” Skye shook her head. “At first glance the lounge seemed to be empty and we figured the group had finished early, so we started to leave.”
    â€œBut you didn’t.”
    â€œBefore we got to the exit we heard a thud and the sound of breaking glass. We thought someone might be hurt, so we went toward where the noise had come from, and we found Guinevere lying on the floor.” Skye fingered the purse strap that lay diagonally across her chest and asked, “Is she going to make it?”
    â€œI’m afraid not.” Officer Trencher watched Skye closely. “The doctor said she never had a chance. Her carotid artery was nicked.” At Skye’s gasp, the security officer sat down in the chair opposite Skye. “The only reason she lasted as long as she did was because you didn’t remove the knitting needles.” Trencher raised a brow. “How did you know not to do that?”
    â€œI read a lot of mysteries.” Skye stared down at her hands. Before Officer Trencher’s arrival, Skye had founda couple of Wet-Naps in her purse and managed to wipe off her hands, but they were far from spotless; she only hoped her conscience was cleaner. Had she done everything possible to save Guinevere? “Any idea who stabbed her?”
    â€œDid you or your friend do it?”
    â€œNo!” Skye squeaked. Was the security officer serious? “Of course not.”
    â€œHow about your mother?” Trencher asked. “She certainly was upset with Ms. Stallings.”
    Skye felt a quiver of alarm. Was there any chance her mother had quarreled again with Guinevere and stabbed her in a fit of rage? No. Skye was absolutely sure May would never do that.
    â€œMom is over last night’s misunderstanding,” Skye said.
    â€œIs she?” Officer Trencher didn’t appear satisfied by Skye’s assurances.
    â€œYes.” Skye chewed her lip. How to convince the security officer of that fact? Then she remembered something and said, “Besides, Mom is too short. The needles where thrust straight in Guinevere’s throat. If my mother had done it, they’d be angled upward.”
    â€œOh?” The security officer’s tone was skeptical. “And you know this how?”
    â€œMy mother is five-foot-two. Guinevere was a couple of inches taller than me and I’m five-seven. Mom would have had to reach up to stab Guinevere in the throat.”
    â€œSo you’re saying the killer had to be close to the victim’s height,” Officer Trencher said, then paused and added, “Or the murderer was standing on something that made them taller.”
    â€œThe only things around to stand on were chairs and tables, and then the angle would be downward.” Skye was beginning to worry that the security officer was seriously considering May as a suspect.
    â€œThen perhaps Ms. Stallings was sitting,” Officer Trencher suggested.
    â€œWe found Guinevere on the floor behind the chairs. If she’d been sitting, the needle position would only be possible if both she and the murderer were both seated knee to knee, in which case height would come into play again,” Skye pointed out. “If Guinevere was sitting and the killer was standing, the angle would be downward.”
    Trencher shot Skye a thoughtful look. “Those are insightful observations to have made in the heat of the moment.” She tilted her head. “You said your husband was a police chief, but you didn’t mention if you were in law enforcement as well.”
    â€œI’m a psychological consultant for my husband’s department.”
    â€œI see.” Officer Trencher studied Skye, then seemed to make a decision. “Have you had much experience with homicide investigations?”
    â€œI’ve been part of a team that has solved nearly twenty murders,” Skye answered, then hesitated. If Trixie’s