Free Knot the Usual Suspects by Molly MacRae Page A

the small office behind us.
    â€œGood idea. I’ll reheat your coffee and bring it in to you. Then you’ll be able to concentrate.” And for a little while she’d be able to mourn one of her favorite students in private.
    *   *   *
    It was a very little while. As I pulled the door shut after taking Ardis the reheated coffee, Geneva swirled out of the office—through the door—and stopped in front of me.
    â€œThere are tears running down her face,” she said.
    â€œI know. She’ll be okay, though.”
    â€œWhat did you say to make my great-great-niece cry like that?” She crossed her arms and leaned in close.
    â€œIt wasn’t anything I said. If you were in there, didn’t you hear—”
    â€œI was just passing through.” She turned away with a flap of her hand and went to sit on the sales counter. “Passing through is one of the perks for those who have passed on. I would not have paid the least attention to her, except that I am so sensitive to tears and sadness.”
    â€œBut you didn’t want to ask her what’s wrong? Or offer comfort?”
    â€œI am too sensitive for my own good and did not want to risk being responsible for more misery.” She kicked her heels a time or two. “What is her caterwauling all about?”
    â€œI don’t hear caterwauling. I think she’s being dignified in her grief.”
    â€œGrief?”
    â€œDidn’t you hear? You were popping in and out all morning.”
    â€œPerks of being a ghost. I was feeling perky.”
    â€œGeneva, Ardis is upset because Hugh McPhee died last night. That’s why Deputy Dunbar was here.”
    â€œKilt?
    â€œKilled, yes.”
    â€œNo.
Kilt.
Are you talking about the man in the kilt? Was he the man Ardis was fawning over? With the bald spot, the scar, and bagpipes?”
    â€œYes. Why?”
    â€œArgyle and I saw him last night before the hellish noise began and we had to take cover.”
    â€œWhere did you see him?”
    â€œAlthough, come to think of it,” she said, “from the way Argyle sprang straight into the air, it is possible he was napping when the noise began. If that is the case, then he will not have seen anything more than one of his lives passing before his eyes like a comet. Poor dear. How many lives do you suppose he has to spare?”
    â€œGeneva, where did
you
see Hugh?”
    â€œThe more interesting question would be with whom.”

Chapter 8
    â€œY ou know who it was? Oh my gosh.” I couldn’t believe the luck—Geneva had been looking out the window at just the right time to see someone with Hugh—to see the murderer? “Who was it?”
    â€œThat is the stumper.”
    â€œYou didn’t recognize him?”
    â€œOr her. Between trousers and kilts, the fashion world was topsy-turvy last night.”
    â€œBut can you describe the person? How tall? Or how tall compared to Hugh? The hair? Anything?”
    â€œIt would be helpful if I could.” Her shoulders rose and fell on a moan. “I am a terrible detective. I know that is what you are thinking.”
    â€œNo, I’m not. And don’t be hard on yourself. There’s no way you could’ve known we’d need to know anything about that person.”
    â€œBut the best detectives are always on duty. My skills have deteriorated and I am no longer among their ranks.” She paused. “Perhaps if I were allowed to refresh my memory by watching classic how-to documentariessuch as
Cagney & Lacey
, my skill level would rebound. I could pick up tips to share with you, so that we can work better together as a detective duo. I might pick up hints for engaging in buddy-type banter. Also, any of the
Law & Order
oeuvre would be helpful for our ensemble work with the posse.”
    The posse she referred to was the small group of TGIF members with whose help we’d solved several crimes.