“Do you have a minute right now?” Mac asked Kirk.
“Sure. Let me go put this away.” Kirk gestured to the ladder as he clicked it closed.
He took the ladder out of the room. Wally checked his watch and rushed out as well.
Mac and I resumed our seats on the couch and admired the new yarn installation. I wondered if there were other little yarn-y things hidden around the castle. I’d have to ask Vi what the rules were. I hoped there was a prize for the most things spotted. I didn’t care about knitting needles, but the hidden-object part of the contest was fun. Maybe it would entertain the knitters and keep them from whipping themselves into an anxiety-fueled frenzy.
We heard the door open down the hall and voices made their way in our direction.
“We better get out of here before the knitters come in,” Mac said and jumped to his feet.
“Are you afraid of them?” I asked jokingly.
“No. I would just rather not get sucked into another conversation about tarot cards and yarnovers.”
I grabbed his snowman sweater off the back of the couch and followed him out of the room.
We waited for Kirk in the front reception area. Wally went to herd the knitters into the lounge for their break and the big reveal of more yarn bombing.
Mac and I sat on one of the comfy couches that graced the entryway. I looked out at the white landscape, the trees outlined in snow, and the drifts that had piled up outside. It would have been a perfect romantic getaway—if only we were somewhere else, or the knitters were, and no one had died.
Surprisingly, even though the weekend had been altered, I wasn’t upset. I liked working a case with Mac, and even Vi had been helpful. I filed this feeling away to examine later. As I sat with Mac, I realized I didn’t want to move on. I needed to find a way to stay in Crystal Haven that didn’t involve rejoining the police force, or setting up shop as a fortune teller.
“Mac, what do you think—” I was interrupted by Kirk, who strode toward us, apologizing for taking so long.
“Sorry, I got delayed talking to Mrs. Garrett. I keep hoping the power will come back on because I really don’t know how to fix the generator.” He sat across from us and leaned forward, elbows on knees.
“I’m sure you’ve heard that we suspect foul play in Ms. Carlisle’s death,” Mac began.
Kirk nodded.
“We’re hoping you can help us piece together the movements of staff and guests that evening,” Mac said.
Kirk sat back. “Like I said, I don’t think I’ll be much help because I didn’t see many people yesterday. I was outside trying to keep the walk clear for an hour or so during the afternoon. I think I finished around five thirty. Then I stopped in the kitchen to grab some dinner—Ms. Garrett said any employees that stayed could help themselves in the kitchen. After I ate, I went down to the staff rooms and took a shower. Just as I finished, the lights went out.”
“You didn’t see anyone, then, before the lights went out?”
Kirk shook his head, but then stopped. “I did see René come down to the freezer to take something out, and then I saw Emmett a little while later, but that’s pretty routine. They had moved things to the downstairs freezer earlier in the day when the storm started to pick up. The freezer has its own generator—apparently René insisted last year when the power went out and he lost all the food for a wedding reception.”
“So, that generator is still working?” Mac asked.
“Yup, the frozen food is safe, even if the rest of us are shivering and using flashlights. The upstairs refrigerator does not have its own generator, so I think they’ve been storing some things in the snow.”
“Do you think you can fix the generator?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Kirk leaned back and crossed his arms. “Gus is the head of maintenance and he has all the manuals tossed into a filing cabinet. I’ve been trying to sort through them with my flashlight and checking the landline every ten minutes in the hope I can call him and get some advice.” His mouth quirked up on one side. “This is my first gig in a maintenance department and I don’t have a lot of experience with generators. If Gus’s wife hadn’t been sick, he would have stayed this weekend instead of me. I’d probably be further along if the knitters would quit with the yarn bombing. I have one or another of them finding me every half hour needing help with something.”
I suspected I knew the reason for the exuberant yarn bombing and it had nothing to do with yarn, or the contest. It was all about Kirk.
“We won’t keep you,” Mac said. “Let us know if you think of anything else. Anything you saw out of the ordinary or anyone in a place they didn’t belong.”
Kirk nodded and stood.