Hooked on Murder, page 10
part #1 of Crochet Mystery Series
The rest of us watched, aghast, as Adele continued. CeeCee even called out to her, "Dear, I think you're a little over the top." But it did no good.
"So what, when you can do this." Adele showed off one of the loopy crocheted flowers ready to go onto her square. And then she went for her grand finale, dangling a lacy crochetedsnowflake she had pulled out of her bag. It was all dainty white string and pretty amazing looking.
"I'd like to see you knit this," Adele said. Her beanie was on the small side, and her head big. Little by little the beanie had been inching its way higher and higher, and now looked like a gumdrop had landed on her head.
Nicole was already packing up her designer tote, mutteringsomething to herself about how maybe the other group was better for them after all, since they knew the truth about knitting. Trish followed suit and the two left in a huff.
Adele smiled victoriously. She had kept our crochet world pure.
CHAPTER 8
I didn't mean to be late for the tarzana Hookers' meeting at the Sheridans' house, but it was a lot different from joining them at the bookstore. There, I could just take a break from my work when they arrived, but leaving to go somewhere else was much more complicated. First, I had to cashier because Rayaad was late coming back from her break. Then there were a bunch of last-minutephone calls, and as I was walking out, one of our regular customers stopped me and tried to sell me on havingweekly seances at the bookstore. When I finally pulled up to the Sheridans' house, Dinah was waiting out front.
Natalie answered the door and looked uncomfortable when she saw us.
"There's a little problem," she said in a whisper as she stepped outside. "Lawrence hasn't left yet. Now, I have no doubt that you had nothing to do with Ellen's death, but he seems to be fixated on it. He was very specific about not wanting you here." It wasn't the collective you, either. There was only one you she was talking about, and it was me.
"I thought you said he wouldn't be home."
"I thought he wouldn't be," she said, appearing frustrated."But he is. It is his house." She scanned the inside of the home quickly, apparently looking for him. "He has to leave soon. His dog has an appointment at the groomer's. I really need you to go now. If he finds you here, I'll get the blame." She glanced behind her again. "Too late, here he comes. Hide!"
"Hide? Where?" I looked hopelessly around the yard. Dinah pointed me toward a large bush that grew next to the house, and without taking a moment to consider the absurdityof late-fortysomething me having to hide from a neighbor, I went for it. I had barely squeezed behind the scratchy branches when Lawrence marched out the front door with his small black poodle in close pursuit. By peekingbetween the leaves, I managed to get a clear view.
Lawrence stopped between Dinah and Natalie. He looked like a graying giant next to my petite friend, and he wore his usual arrogant expression.
Dinah smiled and started to say hello, but he totally ignoredher and turned to Natalie.
"Is she one of the crochet women?" he asked, and Dinahstiffened at being talked about when she was standing right there.
Natalie nodded and started to introduce them, but Lawrence cut her off by walking away. The man had turned rudeness into an art form. Only when he'd gotten halfway to the garage did he realize that the dog was still on the step. The poodle looked like a roly-poly little black sheep and was definitely in need of a trim.
"C'mon, Felix," Lawrence cajoled, holding up a leash. "Daddy's little boy is going to get a bathy-wathy and a hair-cut." The dog sat down. Lawrence tried a few more versions of doggie baby talk, but the poodle didn't move. Then Lawrence changed his tone to that of a dog trainer. "Felix, come," he commanded, but Felix merely looked the other way. As a powerful manager/TV producer, Lawrence could make people jump, but apparently not his dog. Finally he retraced his steps, slipped the leash onto Felix and gave it a little tug as he headed back toward the garage. Now the dog ran every which way, winding the leash around his master's legs, almost tripping him. Just as Lawrence got it all straightenedout, Felix's eyes focused on the bush where I was hiding,and he started barking. Lawrence tried to keep going, but Felix wouldn't give up.
I cringed, sure that any second Lawrence was going to notice that the bush had some khaki slack branches. I searched my mind for some excuse, any excuse, to explain why I was back there. A lost contact, perhaps? Then I hit possible pay dirt. Maybe I could distract the dog.
Before work, I'd been trying to teach Blondie to give her paw. It's really a stupid trick, but cute. To help with the training, I had been giving her treats if she made any move with her foot. I still had a pocketful of liver pops.
I lobbed one toward the dog, hoping it wouldn't bop Lawrence. My sons never wanted to play catch with me, rightly saying I had no sense of aim. I missed Lawrence, but also missed the dog's scent range. Felix kept yapping, and Lawrence started peering into the bush. Frantically, I tossed another liver pop over the top. It sailed over Lawrence and landed at Felix's feet. He stopped the noise as he picked it up.
Lawrence noticed that the dog had gotten something off the ground, and he freaked, ordering Felix to drop it. The poodle looked up at him for a second, then must have realizedthat possession wins over a bossy owner's commands, and went back to chewing. Shaking his head with resignationand telling the dog he better not hear from the groomer that he got sickie-wickie, Lawrence finally continuedon his way to the garage.
If I had to hear any more doggie baby talk, I was going to be "sickie-wickie" and was grateful when Lawrence's black Bentley pulled out of the garage and the door rumbledshut.
I brushed off some twigs and a stray spider as Natalie ushered Dinah and me inside. She left us, saying she had to get something from her car.
"Money and power be damned. You're right about him belonging to the life's-too-short department," Dinah said. "Even with the points he gets for being nice to his dog, he still rates below my rudest freshman students." She wasn't about to get any argument from me.
We both automatically looked back toward the living room, where Ellen's body had been, and had a communal shudder. I caught a whiff of a faint fragrance I couldn't define.It gave me an instant headache--or maybe it was from being back in the murder house.
Dinah and I had already come up with a plan to make the most of my visit. The day of the funeral, when I'd tried looking around the house, I hadn't known what I was lookingfor. This time I had a goal: Find Ellen's date book.
"So, the plan is, I cough twice if someone is coming," Dinah whispered.
"I thought it was cough once," I said, rubbing my temples,trying to lose the headache.
"No. Remember, we said one cough could just be a rogue cough by someone else in the room. To be on the safe side, I think we should go with cough three times," Dinahsuggested.
The whole crew was in the crochet room. CeeCee and Adele were sorting through things in plastic bins. Sheila was going back and forth in a rocking chair. Meredith was checking out a shelf of crocheted teddy bears I had missed the first time. Whatever negative things I could say about Ellen, she had been a master craftsperson.
"Can you believe Trish and Nicole called me?" Meredith said, referring to the knitting women from Encino. "They were frantic about getting massages as soon as possible and grabbed the only bit of time I had available. I did them both at Trish's house. Before I'd even finished, they were trying to book me for a wedding shower one of them is giving." Meredith chuckled. "Ellen sure knew how to build an image. Those two women raved about the massages and were thrilled to pay me a fortune. When I think it used to take me days at the gym to earn what I did in a couple of hours with them . . ."
"That was certainly nice of Ellen," Dinah said with just a touch of surprise in her voice.
"She came out okay. She and Lawrence got unlimited massages at no charge," Meredith said.
"It wasn't just Ellen's publicity," Sheila said, getting up and taking one of Meredith's hands. "Your hands are magic."
Meredith seemed pleased with the compliment. "That's just what Trish said. You should see her house. It was biggerthan this place, and in the hills with a view to die for. She sure knew how to marry well."
"You'll meet someone, dear," CeeCee said reassuringly. She looked around at the rest of us. "I didn't think of it untilnow, but Ellen was the only one of us who was married."
Without thinking, I started to protest and say I was married,too.
CeeCee touched my arm. "Dear, when your husband dies, you aren't married anymore." I swallowed hard, realizingthat of course she was right.
CeeCee went back to her sorting. She opened another plastic bin, which was marked SAM, and pulled out a ball of tan yarn. It was a most unusual color, kind of like a latte made with whole milk.
Something about the color seemed familiar, but I couldn't place it.
"This is that special yarn Ellen used for her daughter's missing bag," CeeCee said.
"So that's the stuff," Adele said, examining it before putting it back into the bin.
Dinah and I kept checking the door for Natalie's return. I wasn't going to start snooping until I knew where everyonewas.
As if in answer to my thoughts, Natalie came through the door, seeming preoccupied. "How long is this going to take?" The question wasn't directed at anyone in particular. CeeCee had gradually been assuming lead of the group, but apparently Adele wasn't giving up, and spoke first.
"It will take as long as it takes to find Ellen's completed squares," she said with her hand on her hip. No one could accuse Adele of easing up on the attitude. Natalie didn't seem happy with the answer, but her cell phone rang and she walked out the French doors onto the side patio to answer the call.
It was the perfect time to make my move. I nodded to Dinah, then took out my cell phone, acting as if it had vibrated."Oh, I have to take this," I said to all of them. I was out the door and down the hall before anyone even reacted.
Once in the hall, I started to sprint. I had to be quick. My first stop was the home office. It looked the same as it had the day of the funeral, picked up but still in disorder. I checked the desktop, opened some drawers and thumbed through a pile of papers. There was nothing resembling a date book. Another possibility occurred to me. Ellen had already been out that morning, and if she kept her appointmentbook with her, maybe she'd never taken it out of her purse. After checking that the hall was empty, I moved on to the master bedroom. I knew from my own experience that Lawrence had probably left Ellen's stuff as it had been. Somewhere in an irrational part of your mind, you think the person might come back, and you want their things to be there.
The bed was made, but I noticed something that made me stop short. There were water glasses on both sides of the bed. When I felt them, both were cool to the touch, and there was condensation on the outsides, meaning the water was fresh. Had Lawrence had overnight company? It seemed really cold, with Ellen's clothes still in the closet and her gold necklace sitting on the dresser.
I turned on the light in Ellen's closet. It was like a cavernousroom. On one side all the hanging clothes were neatly organized on bars at various heights, with the back portion left for evening wear. The other side featured shelves filled with purses, shoes and color-arranged sweaters. There was a built-in dresser toward the door. As I looked around, I realized there was a flaw in my plan. If Dinah coughed way across the house, I wasn't going to hear it in here. To compensate,I tried to move faster.
If the appointment book was in a purse, it had to be the one she had used that day. I tried to remember what Ellen had been wearing when I found her, since she was the kind who still matched her purse to her outfit. But the memory of the awful purple-blue of her face blotted out any memoryof the color of her clothes. Then I noticed a black leather tote bag sitting on the dresser at the other end of the closet. I instantly recognized it as the bag she'd had at the bookstore that morning. Just as I started toward it, I heard noise coming from the bedroom. In a flash I turned off the light and froze. I recognized Lawrence's voice, but there was also a woman's.
What was he doing back?
And I had worried about being found behind the bush. Hanging out in Ellen's closet would surely be considered trespassing, attempted burglary and God knew what else. I didn't need a fortune-teller to tell me there would be handcuffsin my future, along with a trip to the police station. I could just imagine the delight in Detective Heather's eyes when she realized she finally had a reason to arrest me.
I could make out only every third word or so. Lawrence seemed to be giving instructions to the woman. InstinctivelyI moved all the way to the back and hid under a long evening dress. I was just in time, too, because Lawrence and the woman came into the closet. The dress was sheer enough for me to see the light when it went on. I was afraid to breathe.
By now I'd figured out that the woman was the housekeeper,and Lawrence was telling her to get some boxes and pack up some of Ellen's clothes. So he wasn't as sentimentalas I was, after all. The hangers scraped on the rod as he pushed things back and forth. The noise was getting louder, and it was obvious he was getting closer. One of the shortcomings of hitting middle age was that I couldn't fold myself up quite so small anymore, and I realized my feet were sticking out below the dress. I was really going to have to take up yoga or something.
I could see Lawrence's silhouette through the dress. I prayed he wouldn't look down as I twisted my feet sidewaysto hide them. It seemed like forever that he and the woman stood there, deciding what to pack up. Then, typicalLawrence, he ended the discussion abruptly and they headed back into the bedroom. I waited until there had been silence for a while before I made a move.
To my relief, the bedroom was empty, but when I peeked out into the hall, Lawrence was giving more directionsto the housekeeper. The only good thing was that his back was to me. I heard what sounded like a coughing fit, coming from somewhere across the house. It wasn't much help now.
I slipped back into the room, feeling trapped. A wave of panic made my head start to swirl, but I ordered it away with a few deep breaths. I scanned the room for a way to escape. The windows along the back seemed to be the only way out. Most of them didn't open, and when I found one that did, there was a screen to contend with. Climbing out wasn't that easy, either. Even though it was a one-story house, there was still a bit of a drop, and I landed on my butt. Then I had to put the screen back in place and hope that nobody noticed the open window anytime soon. All the climbing around left me feeling a little creaky.
Now that I was in the backyard, it seemed as if I was almosthome free. I crouched low to get below the window and inched my way across the side of the house. Then suddenlyI remembered the date book. Some detective I was. In my panic to escape, I'd forgotten about it. While beratingmyself for not checking the tote bag on my way out, I considered going back. But before I could make a move, I heard loud voices coming through one of the windows.
I recognized Lawrence's voice, and Natalie's and CeeCee's.
Apparently I wasn't the only one who had made a side trip. Lawrence had found CeeCee wandering around. She claimed she was looking for the bathroom, but I knew she was looking for another chance to go through the home officeto find the file that I was sure Natalie already had.
Natalie apologized to Lawrence, saying she'd been on a business call. He insisted that she make sure everyone stayed in the crochet room, then said he was leaving again.
I race-crawled the rest of the way to the little patio off the crochet room, wondering whether I should tell CeeCee that Natalie had what she was looking for. But I decided against it. I wasn't sure who the good guys or the bad guys were, and it would require way too much explaining.
When I stood up, I realized there were grass stains on my knees. I finger-combed my hair and hoped there weren't any smudges on my face. Then I slipped inside just as Natalie,with CeeCee in tow, came into the room through the other door. I grabbed the puffy beige afghan off the love seat and used it to block the front of my pants as I pretended to admire it. Natalie gave me a strange look, but it was nothingcompared to the one I got from Dinah. She looked as if her eyes were about to pop out of her head.
"So, how many squares do we have?" I said in my best nothing-is-going-on voice.
CHAPTER 9
"Your friend dinah called," rayaad said when she found me reading in one of the big overstuffed chairs in the back of the bookstore. "She said she had some bad news, and she'd be in her office after two."
"Bad news? Did she say what it was?" I put down the book and sat up.
Rayaad shook her head. "She didn't give any details, sorry."
I had told Rayaad to take messages so that I could read some of Will Hunter's book. It was surprisingly poetic as he described growing up in Texas. I still found it hard to believe he'd written it, but at the same time I thought a ghostwriter would have had a more matter-of-fact style. I'd just gotten to the part in which a tornado was headed for their town, and Will and his brother had played hooky from school and were wandering out in an open field.
So far it had been a quiet day, and the event area sat empty. Yesterday's meeting at the Sheridans' house had turned out to be a disappointment. Ellen had left far fewer finished squares than we'd expected.
And, taking Lawrence's orders seriously, Natalie had practically stood guard over us for the remainder of the visit, so I'd had no chance to go back and look for the date book.
I stuck a bookmark in Will's book and checked my watch. Blondie needed to be picked up from the groomer, and I decided I might as well meet Dinah and hear the bad news in person. I'd even bring lunch. I told Rayaad I was leaving for an hour or so. Since Mrs. Shedd knew I was more likely to work extra time than leave early, she let me keep my own hours.
Dinah worked at Walter Beasley Community College, which was set on four hundred acres of land draped over soft hills. It featured a whole area devoted to agriculture. There was an equestrian area, a dairy barn and fields of crops. Black steers grazed on the golden hills on the outskirtsof the campus, right next to a new apartment complex.I guessed the people who lived there wouldn't be opening their windows to let in the fresh air.
