Free Silence of the Lamb's Wool (A Yarn Retreat Mystery) by Betty Hechtman Page A

reaction concerned me was Bree’s. I was afraid she’d feel it was her fault. I didn’t know the cause of death, but I doubted that Bree could have done anything to save her.
    I’d barely set my plate down and tasted a forkful of rich sauce over buttered noodles when I saw Lieutenant Borgnine and Kevin St. John come into the dining hall. Lieutenant Borgnine was built like a bulldog and either had a whole wardrobe of grayish rumpled-looking sports jackets or always wore the same one. His hair was mostly a dark gray and cut short to lessen the contrast with his bald spot. Kevin St. John had a somber expression that matched the look of his dark suit, white shirt and tie. The two men passed through the roomful of animated people in casual wear like a pair of dark clouds.
    I knew they were headed our way and reevaluated my plan. I dropped my fork and looked across the table to Bree.
    “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but Nicole, the woman you found, died.” Bree didn’t have time to react before the two men reached our table.
    “I hope you are all enjoying your dinner,” Kevin said, putting on a pleasant expression. He kept his tone light as he introduced Lieutenant Borgnine, apparently not realizing we’d all met before. The three early birds had been questioned by the lieutenant during the last retreat. And I had dealt with him a number of times. I heard Bree make a little gasp as Kevin St. John explained that she was the one who’d found Nicole. I was glad he didn’t say “the deceased”
or “the body.” Referring to Nicole by name somehow didn’t seem as bad.
    “I’m going to need a statement from you,” the lieutenant said to Bree. I’d never noticed what a growly tone his voice had. Her face went pale and she seemed befuddled.
    “What’s the cause of death?” I said, standing up. The lieutenant glowered at me. He still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that I’d bested him in a previous investigation.
    “Here we go again,” he said with an unhappy shake of his head. “I’m the one who asks the questions.” Without taking a breath he turned to Bree and asked her to explain what had happened.
    “Was she murdered? I didn’t do it. I promise,” the young mother said, seeming close to tears. Olivia put a hand on her shoulder to calm her.
    “Bree, he just asked what you saw,” the older woman said.
    “Are you saying her death was suspicious?” I interrupted. Lieutenant Borgnine groaned at my question and paused as if considering his words. In the end, he ignored me, but explained a little more to Bree.
    “Ms. Meyers, it’s routine to get a statement under the circumstances,” he said, but stopped there without any explanation of what the circumstances were.
    Bree nervously repeated pretty much what she’d told me earlier. I interrupted and asked again about the cause of death. Lieutenant Borgnine rocked his head and looked skyward in a hopeless fashion.
    “We’re not ready to give out that information yet,” he said tersely. He thanked Bree for her cooperation, which was a little dig at me, and gave her his card in case she thought of anything else. Just to be sure, he asked the other two what they knew about Nicole.
    Scott shrugged it off and said the only thing he knew was that Nicole was supposed to have given them a spinning lesson. Olivia said pretty much the same thing.
    Lieutenant Borgnine turned back to me. “And you, Ms. Feldstein. I understand that you hired her for your retreat. Did you see her this morning?”
    “Why are you asking if I saw her? What kind of information are you looking for?” I asked. It was an automatic response with me. When I’d worked for the detective agency, my boss had trained me never to give out information, only to get it. The policeman actually hit his forehead in frustration.
    Then he pointed at himself. “I am the investigator here. Not you.”
    “I am just trying to be helpful,” I said. “Do you want to know if she looked