Free Dyer Consequences by Maggie Sefton Page A

chance to talk with Dan. They’re hoping the medical examiner will have a report today—”
    A brief knock was followed by Burt’s voice as Mimi’s kitchen door suddenly opened. “Good morning. I was hoping to find you folks here.”
    “Hey, Burt, glad you could join us,” Lisa called in greeting as he stomped snow from his boots onto the floor mat.
    “Looks like we’ll be gathering here at Mimi’s until we can get the shop back up to speed,” Kelly added as she pulled out a chair beside her. “Have a seat.”
    Mimi greeted Burt with a hug. “We’ve saved eggs and bacon and biscuits for you. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll fix you a plate.”
    “Just coffee for now, thanks,” he said before giving her a light kiss on the cheek.
    “When do you think we’ll be able to go into the shop and clean up?” Megan asked. “Mimi says it’s a mess.”
    Burt settled into the chair. “You folks can probably start this afternoon. I’ve already talked with Dan.”
    Kelly caught Burt’s subdued tone, and her needles paused. “Are the police still checking the shop?”
    Burt nodded as Mimi poured a dark stream of coffee into a ceramic sunflower mug in front of him. “They went back this morning. They should be finished pretty soon.”
    “But I thought they had finished yesterday,” Mimi said, looking concerned. “Why’d they go back?”
    Burt took a large sip before answering. “They wanted to take another look, because the situation has changed. The medical examiner decided that Tracy’s death was not caused by accidental drowning. He found bruising on the middle of her back and on one wrist, leading him to conclude that she was held under the water until she drowned. That would also explain the blue dye splattered on the wall behind the tub. Splashed there, no doubt by Tracy.” Burt took another drink, then stared into his cup.
    Oh—my— God. Kelly felt the cold creep back to her gut. It hadn’t gone far. Someone murdered Tracy Putnam in the basement of Lambspun. How could that happen? Lambspun was a safe place, another home.
    “ What? That’s . . . that’s crazy,” Lisa protested, her hands gesturing, no longer knitting.
    Megan’s eyes went huge, her face ashen. “That’s horrible ! Why would anyone deliberately kill Tracy?”
    Mimi clutched the back of a kitchen chair. “I’m going to be sick.”
    Burt rose to his feet, but Mimi had already sprinted for the bathroom, hand to her mouth.
    Kelly stared at her friends, her own shock registering in their eyes. They said nothing. The only sounds were Mimi’s German cuckoo clock ticking on the wall and her retching in the bathroom.
    Kelly could tell the sun had already gone beneath the clouds without looking out the window. She could feel the chill.
    “This refrigerator is clean, Pete. I’m starting on the one in the corner,” Kelly called from the café’s kitchen. Scooping up sponges and towels and cleaning spray, she knelt in front of another undercounter fridge and started in. Dribbles of spaghetti sauce had dried hard and crusty across the polished metal surface. Kelly substituted elbow grease with the sponge for a scrubbing brush so as not to mar the surface.
    Across the kitchen, Jennifer sat cross-legged, washing out cabinets. “I think we’re finally beginning to see daylight. How’re you coming with the grill, Eduardo?”
    “Ask me later, when I’m not so angry,” the normally genial cook replied before muttering something in Spanish.
    “We’re getting there, folks.” Pete’s voice sounded from the dining room. “I’ve almost finished the floors, and Julie’s done the walls. You guys have the scut work. The kitchen was the worst.”
    “You know, I’m amazed we’ve gotten so much done,” Kelly said, concentrating on a stubborn drop of tomato sauce. “With luck, we’ll be finished by dinnertime.”
    “That’s because Pete was lucky,” Jennifer said as she wiped a towel across shelves and cabinet doors. “I’ve