Unraveled by Maggie Sefton Page B

there’s anything you want to purchase, you’d better go up front to the counter now,” Burt said, gathering some of the stray balls of yarns that customers had left on the table. “How’re those interviews going, Eustace?”
    “Quite well, actually. I’ve got several scheduled this next week, and Kelly has shared her contacts, too.” Eustace closed his laptop.
    On seeing Burt, Kelly remembered why she’d stopped in Lambspun right before closing time. Chatting with the adorable senior couple had momentarily caused her to forget. However, Kelly decided to modify her comments until she was alone with Burt.
    “Burt, I wanted to tell you that Jennifer has learned one of her real estate clients shot himself at his property in Poudre Canyon today.”
    “What? That’s dreadful!” Lizzie looked horrified, knitting dropped to her lap.
    Burt’s cop expression fell into place. “What? Who was it?”
    “Indeed, that is distressing to hear,” Eustace said, clearly concerned. “Was the client depressed about the property not selling, do you think?”
    “Actually, no,” Kelly replied. “The property already had a purchase offer on it. So, who knows who made Fred Turner kill himself.”
    Eustace’s eyes went huge. “Did you say Fred Turner? That’s awful ! I interviewed him this last week. He . . . he was so helpful . . . and interesting.” He shook his head. “I cannot believe it.”
    “His name sounds familiar. Let me find out what I can and get back to you, Kelly. How’s Jennifer handling it?”
    “Pretty well, considering. She’s had more than her share of walking in on traumatic scenes.”
    “This is simply tragic,” Eustace said, shaking his silverfringed head. “So sad to take one’s life.”
    This time, Lizzie reached over and patted Eustace’s hand. “I know, Eustace. It’s incomprehensible. Shall we go to church and say a prayer?”
    Eustace placed his hand atop Lizzie’s. “Yes, let us do that. Then, we can go to dinner in that nice English pub Jennifer recommended. It won’t be noisy with Saturday-night revelers.”
    “That’s a wonderful idea,” Lizzie concurred, gathering her knitting into its bag.
    “Enjoy dinner, you two. If it’s the same English pub I’m thinking of, the food is delicious,” Kelly said as Eustace slipped on his suit jacket then held Lizzie’s shawl for her.
    “Thank you, I’m sure we will.” Eustace gave them a big smile as he escorted Lizzie out of the room.
    “Say a prayer for me,” Burt called over his shoulder after them. “Aren’t they a pair?”
    “They’re adorable. And I cannot believe how well they get along. From the start. Jennifer said they started talking from the first time they met and haven’t stopped yet.” Kelly paused. “How is Hilda taking this? I haven’t been around to see her.”
    “Hilda hasn’t been able to get out as much as she used to. Her arthritis is really giving her problems. So, I don’t know how much Lizzie has shared about her, uh . . . budding relationship with Eustace.” He grinned.
    “Well, now that the ‘older’ lovebirds have left, I wanted to share some more details. Jennifer and I must have some strange energy thing going on whenever we drive into the canyons, because we walked in on Fred Turner’s dead body today.” Kelly retrieved her cell phone from her jeans pocket. “Jennifer and I planned to hike around that gorgeous property. So we pulled up to the cabin in Poudre Canyon, and I waited outside while she went to talk with Turner. Then Jennifer cried out for me to come inside. I walked in and found him lying on the floor with blood coming from the side of his head. And a gun lying beside his hand.” She accessed the photos on her smartphone. “I took a photo of the gun, Burt. It looked like some old-fashioned pistol. What do you think? I’ve never seen a gun like that.” She handed the phone to Burt.
    Burt stared at the photo, his brows furrowing. “You’re right, Kelly. It does look