Free Dropped Dead Stitch by Maggie Sefton

that I saw him taking a full bottle out to the deck last night,” Lisa added. “I’m sure we’re not the only ones who noticed.”
    “You know, I passed by Donny when the officer was questioning him, and I swear I heard Donny say he found an empty whiskey bottle on the deck this morning,” Sue added.
    “Told you. He probably sat on the edge of the railing and whoosh . . .” Jane made a swan dive motion with her hands.
    “Well, ladies, I think we should all start gathering our things so we’ll be ready to leave when the police tell us,” Dr. Norcross advised.
    “Good idea,” Lisa said. “Kelly, why don’t you and Jen start while I help Dr. Norcross tell the others?”
    “Okay, we’ll meet out here in the barnyard,” Kelly said as she and Jennifer set off toward the lodge.
    As they walked in silence together, a stray memory surfaced in Kelly’s mind. “By the way, Jen. Did you notice anyone near the deck last night when you were taking your walk? I figured you’d say something if you did.”
    Jennifer stared at the ground as she walked. “No, I didn’t see anyone.”
    “How long were you out?”
    “About an hour . . . I guess,” Jennifer mumbled, then hastened ahead of Kelly toward the cabin.
    Kelly stared after her friend, glad that they would be leaving soon. Jennifer needed to return home.

Seven
    Kelly grabbed her coffee mug and followed Steve to the cottage front door. “Will you be able to join us in Old Town for dinner tonight, or will those meetings run long?”
    Steve slipped on his leather jacket. “I’ll try. But when you start talking about money, everything takes longer.” He hastened through the door and down the steps.
    “Tell me about it,” Kelly said as she followed after him. “I’ll go ahead and order pizza, so show up when you can.” She gave him a quick kiss as he paused in front of his big red monster truck.
    Steve reached out and grabbed Kelly around the waist, bringing her next to him. “Hey, I need a better kiss than that. These bankers aren’t too friendly right now.”
    Kelly slid her arms around Steve’s neck and gave him a better kiss. Much better. “Good luck,” she whispered after their lips parted. “I’ve got my fingers crossed.”
    “Keep them crossed,” he said as he released her. “It’s getting really bad out there. Buyers have gone to ground.” He climbed into the truck and slammed the door.
    “It’ll get better,” Kelly said, more hopefully than she felt.
    The normally robust Fort Conner housing market was continuing its downward turn. Not a good time to be a builder or developer. New home construction had slowed almost to a standstill. There was still too much inventory on the market, and prices were spiraling lower.
    Kelly was grateful Steve had branched out into some “mixed-use” development in the Old Town section of Fort Connor. Mixing retail with rooftops, so to speak. Last year, he’d renovated and remodeled a century-old warehouse and turned it into retail shops below with spacious lofts above. With views of the Cache La Poudre River meandering nearby, his Baker Street lofts had sold quickly in last year’s better market. It was also the project closest to Steve’s heart. He’d been imagining what could be done with that old warehouse ever since he was a college student.
    Steve gave her a wave, and the truck engine rumbled into life as he drove off. Kelly continued across the gravel driveway to Pete’s café, located at the rear of the knitting shop. Caffeine beckoned.
    “Hey, Julie,” she said as she entered the back door. “Fill ’er up, would you, please?”
    “Sure thing, Kelly,” the college-aged waitress said as she poured a dark stream into Kelly’s mug. “Have a seat in my section. Jennifer is slammed. Burt’s over here already.”
    Kelly spotted the gray-haired retired police detective seated near the bay windows, the remnants of a cinnamon roll on a plate before him. “Hey, Burt,” she said as she