Read Online Unraveled by Maggie Sefton - Free Book Online

like an older pistol. It’ll be interesting to see what the crime lab determines it to be.”
    “Click on the arrow and you’ll see another photo.”
    Burt clicked and stared at the photos Kelly had taken. “Looks like Turner wanted a quiet setting to end his life.” He glanced up at Kelly with a little smile. “You’ve gotten kind of used to walking in on dead bodies if you’re snapping photos. Better save it, in case the guys want to see it. You understand.”
    “No problem. I’m not even sure why I took it.” She shrugged.
    “Just part of being a good sleuth, Kelly,” Burt teased.

Five

    “Run, Carl, he’s got a head start on you,” Kelly called to her Rottweiler, who was dashing across the cottage backyard. Brazen Squirrel sprinted across the top rail of the chain-link fence separating Kelly’s backyard from the adjoining city golf course.
    Carl barked while in pursuit but trailed the fleet-footed squirrel, who leaped from the fence corner directly into a conveniently drooping cottonwood branch. Brazen scrambled up the still-barren limbs to safety.
    Kelly watched her dog charge the chain-link anyway, barking ferocious doggie threats. Next time . Or, I’ll get you yet . Riiiight, Kelly thought as she slid the glass patio door shut. Brazen had his highway down pat. He had dozens of squirrelly escape routes. There he was now, chattering and fussing at Carl, which only spurred Carl to more barking. While Brazen shook his tail and scampered to another branch.
    Refilling her coffee mug, Kelly grabbed her knitting bag, pocketed her cell phone, and left her cozy cottage. The cottage that seemed less roomy these last six months even though Steve no longer lived with her. That was because of the new furniture. Kelly had bought a new chocolate-colored sofa and matching armchair for the living room. Even though both pieces took up more room, she loved the soft feel of the upholstery. Kelly had also bought a new bedroom set. A beautiful bed and dresser in rich cherry wood.
    Kelly slammed the door and walked down the path to the wide driveway that separated her snug little beige-stucco, redtile-roofed cottage from the identical but larger version that housed Lambspun. Once the Spanish colonial farmhouse for Aunt Helen and Uncle Jim’s sheep farm, it was now turned into the knitting shop. The sheep were still there—simply in another form. Instead of grazing in the pastures outside, their fleeces filled the bins and shelves in an array of colors.
    Walking toward Lambspun’s front patio, Kelly checked the angle of the afternoon sun. It was late afternoon, and the sun was on the downward path but still in the middle of the sky, blazing bright. Early March, and the sun was setting a little bit later every day and rising earlier. Bit by bit, minute by minute, creeping toward the spring equinox. Twelve hours of daylight and twelve hours of darkness. Kelly loved the spring equinox that came each March because it always signaled that spring weather was near. On the horizon, inching closer.
    Right now, she hoped to get in some relaxing time knitting and talking with whomever sat around the table. After a full day of balancing complex accounts and solving financial problems, Kelly figured she deserved a break. Tomorrow, she’d be in Denver all day with Warner’s group. Right now, she could still sit in her jeans and sweater. No business suits or stylish outfits.
    A familiar car turned into the driveway and pulled into a parking space. Jennifer. Kelly waited on the sidewalk beneath a huge black walnut tree for her friend.
    “Hey, there, how’re you doing?” Kelly greeted.
    “Hanging in there,” Jennifer said as she clicked her door lock and walked over to Kelly. “Glad you’re here this afternoon. Now I’ve got someone to complain to.”
    “You’re talking about the Turner property, right?” Kelly said, as they followed the brick walk that led to Lambspun’s front door.
    “Ohhhh, yeah.” Jennifer shook her