By Hook or by Crook

by Hechtman, Betty

  Trouble already. Everybody was trying to run the show, but I was the one responsible. However, I thought it might all be academic since the event was so last-minute, I didn’t know if many people would show. For once I didn’t really care. I wanted the evening to be over with quickly and without disaster. And more than that, I wanted the crochet piece Matt was bringing.

  To my surprise people began to come in, including Camille. “I lost my pattern for the bookmark,” she said as she approached me. “Do you have a copy?” She glanced around the bookstore. “What’s going on?”

  I pointed to the sign explaining dance night and said I’d find a copy for her. When I came back, I noticed she’d worked her way over to the event area.

  Then Ali came in with an older woman. Both had coffee from the café, and as usual Ali looked like an advertisement for the wonders of crochet. I loved her crocheted flower wrist corsage. Ali stopped me and introduced me to the woman, her mother. I mentioned what a wonderful addition to the crochet group Ali was, and they decided to stay.

  “Are you going to start soon?” Camille said, stopping me. “This is so much fun. I love the way you decorated the bookstore. Too bad my husband didn’t come.”

  I was getting concerned that Matt hadn’t arrived, but I knew we had to begin. To buy time I went to the event area and made an announcement about the drawing for dance lessons. The bowl we used for Halloween candy stood waiting with scraps of paper and pencils next to it.

  People were still rushing to get in their chances when I introduced Grey and her dance charts. Finally, just as she got ready to start, Matt Wells came in the entrance.

  Adele was handling the music and had put on an up-tempo CD. Moving to the beat, Grey began to jump around the chart, demonstrating her diet dance. Matt made his way through the crowd to me. I glanced down and saw that he was empty-handed.

  “The crochet piece?” I said, trying to keep the upset out of my voice.

  He swept his arm toward the front. “I left it in an envelope with the cashier. You can get it back to me when you’re finished looking at it. There’s no rush. I don’t think anybody but you is interested in all her crochet work.”

  Unfortunately, once people began to notice Matt, they seemed less interested in Grey and her dance chart. Matt had inherited his uncle’s charisma along with his dance skills, and it was almost as if there were a spotlight on him.

  Grey finally picked up her chart and moved to the side, allowing Matt to take over the center spot. She appeared a bit testy when she saw the response he got. The audience applauded; Camille gave him a little wave.

  “It’s wonderful to see you’re all so interested in dance. There is nothing quite so romantic as couples in perfect step to slow music,” he said. Adele put on his music, which was a classic waltz. He did his pitch about the dance studio as he began to move to the music.

  “The Lance Wells Dance Studio has developed the perfect teaching method. At our studio, no one has two left feet.” He reached out for a partner to demonstrate with. I could see Adele waving her arm, but he took my hand.

  The shock must have shown on my face. No matter what he said about nobody having two left feet, I was going to prove him wrong. Hadn’t he seen me get my complimentary lesson?

  He began counting in my ear and urged me to do the same and just let go and follow his lead. Did he know what he was getting into? Did he really want bruised toes?

  I won’t take any of the credit. It was all him and I still don’t know how he did it, but all of a sudden I was dancing with nary a stomped toe in sight. He whirled me—as much as you can whirl in a pair of no-wrinkle khaki slacks—around the event area and then twirled me out at the end. Everyone clapped and I curtseyed.

  “More demonstrations, more dancing,” several people called out.

  Matt used the opportunity to mention the special they were running on lessons and that they were located just down the street. So far no one had brought up Mary Beth, so the mood stayed light. Then Matt described the free lessons the winner of the drawing would get.

  “Are you going to teach?” Camille said, stepping forward from the crowd.

  He diplomatically said something about it depending on his schedule before he reached in the bowl and picked the winner. A woman in the back jumped up, a jubilant expression on her face, while everyone else slumped in disappointment.

  There was a rustle in the crowd as two people pushed their way through it. Roseanne got to the front, her face squeezed into an angry pose. “Have you given away the free lessons yet?” she demanded. Hal was a few steps behind. He had gone back to his semiwimpy manner, but he locked eyes with me and for a moment changed into the man I’d seen the other night.

  Roseanne didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re not authorized to give away free lessons or special deals. I’m the owner now. You have to get my okay first.”

  A gasp went through the group.

  Matt tried to keep his voice low. He said something about that statement being premature and lawyers working things out. Then he turned toward the winner and said for her not to worry, she’d get her lessons. Roseanne started to object, but Matt countered that until things were settled he was in charge. Roseanne didn’t seem to care that she was making a scene, and the positive mood of the evening was going downhill fast. Nobody likes to be in the middle of an argument. I stepped in and suggested that Matt do a first dance with the winner and as an aside told them to save their conversation until they were in a private place.

  Matt threw a dismissive glance Roseanne’s way and took my suggestion. Roseanne stood there for a moment, fuming, then grabbed Hal’s hand and pushed through the crowd toward the exit. I was curious about the argument and followed, barely aware that the crowd had started to dance.

  It wasn’t hard to get Roseanne to talk. All I had to do was ask for her side of the story.

  “It only makes sense. My sister Mary Beth inherited her husband’s portion of the estate and I’m her only family. Matt keeps saying Mary Beth was in the process of changing things so he’d have a bigger share of the business, but I don’t believe it. I am not going to be pushed aside anymore. Matt has always made a point that he’s an owner and we’re just employees. He has always told us what to do and how to do it. He needs to show me some respect now.”

  Roseanne left in a huff. Hal followed behind, turning back just for a moment. He tilted his head toward the front window. I noticed the fireplug in a suit standing outside.

  I had been so involved with talking to Roseanne I hadn’t noticed the music had changed to hip-hop. Not only that, but everybody had begun dancing beyond the confines of the event area. Couples were gyrating between the bookshelves, and people were spinning alone around the display tables. Matt passed me quickly, giving me a thank-you wave on his way out.

  In all her purple-sequin glitter and doll-face makeup, Adele was on top of a table in the window grooving to the music—or trying to. She looked like she was having a fit. Nevertheless, people had gathered around and were mimicking her moves while waving their arms as though she were a dancing goddess.

  I pushed through the group and tried to get her down. Above the music I heard a loud rhythmic thwack and suddenly the area outside the window was bathed in a blindingly bright spotlight. With lights flashing and sirens on, three cruisers stopped at the curb. I twisted toward the front of the bookstore just as the door flew open and someone on a bullhorn ordered everyone to lay on the floor.

  Who knew Mrs. Shedd was going to drive by while Adele was doing her table dance and think she was a masked maniac taking over the bookstore?

  As things were getting sorted out, Detective Heather and her partner came out of the café, both holding coffee. She glanced around the bookstore and then looked at me with a disparaging shake of her head.

  When Mrs. Shedd finally got the whole story, she turned to me and said, “Molly, why didn’t you tell me? I love dancing.” She did a little spin. “When Mr. Royal was here, we went dancing a
ll the time.” Her voice sounded wistful. All along I’d thought he was a pretend partner. It was the first time I believed he might exist.

  Dinah walked in as the last police cruiser pulled away and everyone was streaming out. “Did I miss something?”

  In all the commotion, I’d forgotten about the crochet piece. As I was getting ready to leave, I looked under the counter by the cashier stand. There was a large envelope with Catalina written across the front. When I opened it, a filet crochet piece slipped out. I spread it out on the counter and shook my head. It was in the same style as the one I had. But the motifs? They were all moons and stars and teddy bears.

  This piece had been made for a child’s room.

  CHAPTER 24

  “THAT’S WHAT WE SNUCK INTO THE DANCE STUDIO for?” Dinah said as we both sat staring at the new piece spread out on her coffee table. It had been quite an evening and I needed to decompress. No way could I do that at home with the She La Las jumping around and running through their number just one more time. Instead, I had gone home with Dinah.

  She kicked off her shoes and unwound her scarves and picked up the envelope the new crochet panel piece had come in.

  “Maybe it has something to do with the baby the caretaker and the grocery clerk mentioned,” I said.

  “Maybe, but I for one am disappointed.” Dinah rolled the piece up and put it back in the envelope. “I hope you have something better to share.”

  “Actually I do,” I said and told her about the standoff between Roseanne and Matt. “There’s some disagreement about who gets the dance studios. Roseanne seems to think they are now hers, which brings up the question of what lengths she would go to get in this position.” I mentioned how jealous Matt had said Roseanne was of her sister.

  “I bet Mr. Card Room hopes his wife is right,” Dinah said. She had made us some chamomile tea and filled two cups with the sweet-smelling liquid from a pot on the table.

  “Okay, if Roseanne is a suspect let’s see how she fits in with what we know,” Dinah began. “We know Mary Beth was poisoned and poison is supposed to be women’s weapon of choice. The poison was in marzipan candy. Whoever did it had to know Mary Beth loved marzipan. If someone gave me a box of that stuff with a diamond ring stuck in one of the candies, I’d never find it. It’s cute the way they make little fruits and vegetables out of it, but the taste and texture make me gag.”

  “Okay, so if somebody wanted to poison you, they’d have to use something else,” I said with a chuckle. “Since they were sisters, I have to believe that Roseanne knew Mary Beth’s candy of choice. But it isn’t a stretch to think Hal would, too. Matt said he knew about the almond-paste candy. Except . . .” I took a sip of tea while a problem circulated through my mind. “How does it fit in with the crochet piece and the diary entry?” I took the original crochet piece out of my bag and laid it out.

  “She sure did nice work.” Dinah fingered the perfectly even stitches.

  “That’s not the point.” I had my little notebook out and was flipping through the pages. I got to the notes I’d taken in Catalina and looked them over again for the zillionth time. Call it a matter of timing, but my eye went from the list under Purdue Silvers’s name to the panel with the vase of flowers and for the first time I made the connection. “Omigod, how could I have been so stupid?” I said, leaning closer.

  I showed Dinah the list and the panel with the flowers in the vase. “Name that sounds like a flower and then a vase full of them. I bet there is a connection.” We peered closer and then stepped back, trying to get a better perspective.

  “The only problem is, what kind of flowers are they supposed to be?” Dinah said. “Maybe droopy tulips? Any way you look at them, they don’t look like roses.”

  “So much for Roseanne in that department.” I checked out the motif again. “Yeah, they do look more like drooping tulips.”

  Dinah yawned and said she was too tired to think anymore. My nerves had settled and I was ready to face my house. I hugged Dinah good night and left.

  As I walked out, I saw a black Crown Victoria had pulled behind the greenmobile.

  Before I got to my car, the motor cut off and Barry got out. This was awkward. If we weren’t friends, what were we? And how was I supposed to act?

  “I heard there was some excitement at the bookstore. Something about a masked woman in sequins trying to rob the place.” He was trying to sound serious, but who could say that with a straight face?

  “Adele just got carried away and Mrs. Shedd overreacted.” We were standing facing each other now a few feet apart. Even with the streetlight I couldn’t see his expression. He seemed to breathe heavily a few times, as though holding something in.

  “I happened to drive by your house. There was a motorcycle parked out front.” He left it hanging.

  “It’s Mason’s.”

  “Oh,” he said in an unreadable tone.

  “Are you stalking me?” I asked lightly. Barry took a moment to consider before answering.

  “It could look that way, couldn’t it?” He paused again. “Here’s what it is. I got in the habit of checking on you when I was out working. I’d drive by your house to make sure everything looked okay. Or if I saw your car—” He glanced toward the greenmobile. Even in the orange streetlight, it stood out. “And if there was a call at the station involving you or your area, somebody always contacted me.” He breathed a few times and did the clenching thing with his jaw. “Sorry. Habits are hard to kick. I’ll have to make a note that I’m not supposed to care anymore.”

  He let the words hang in the air for a moment and then continued. “Jeffrey is coming back in a week. Whatever differences we have, it doesn’t seem fair for him to lose out on his dog. I’ll have him call you, if that’s all right, and maybe you could work something out.”

  My heart squeezed. In all this, I hadn’t thought about Jeffrey. Barry was right. Even if we couldn’t be friends, his son and I still could. Oh what a complicated web this had become.

  When I got home, the She La Las were crowded into the den amidst all the living room furniture that had been moved in there, and were watching themselves on the TV screen.

  “Samuel got the idea of videoing us so we could see where we need work,” my mother said as I walked in. I had to laugh. She was so completely self-absorbed, she hadn’t even said hello. Apparently Peter had also given them some pointers. “No matter what he said about not knowing anything about personal appearances, he did know a lot.” She mentioned there was plenty of food left in the kitchen and also that if I didn’t want any, it might be a good idea to put it away and take the trash out.

  “How many more days before your audition?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my voice.

  “Not enough. We made so many mistakes. Look right there, Lana. You should have gone right and you went left.”

  As I turned to go, she mentioned Mason. “What was with him? He was so nice before, but tonight he kept scowling at me. And that outfit.” She shook her head with disapproval. “I think you better keep looking.”

  I stifled a giggle as I walked across the house. Too bad I had to miss that show.

  “YOU WERE THERE?” CEECEE SAID TO CAMILLE as the crochet group settled in around the event table. Adele had just told her about dance night. “It’s probably just as well I wasn’t. They would have had a field day getting photos of me in the middle of a raid.”

  “There wasn’t any press,” Camille said. She had her work on the table and was trying hard to be part of the group. “It was my first book event, but it won’t be my last. We had everything: music, dancing, drama and police action. I couldn’t wait to tell Hunnie about it.”

  CeeCee appeared worried. “Did you tell him I wasn’t there?” Camille shook her head and seemed confused by the question. I knew CeeCee was still convinced Camille was spying on her because of the contract negotiations.

  “My mother was pretty surprised by all the excitement,” Ali said. “I tried to talk her into
joining the crochet group, but she’s really busy with her cactus nursery.” Ali held up another crochet cactus she’d made. “She’s going to start selling these, too.”

  Sheila picked it up and admired it. “I’m okay with missing last night. It sounds kind of tense.” She turned toward me. “Have you had any luck figuring out more of the filet crochet piece? The woman at the gym with all the police information said they had decided Mary Beth’s sister was a person of interest. And the poison was in the candy apples, just like you said.”

  “Wow,” I said, turning to Dinah.

  Camille obviously wasn’t listening. She was ruffling through her designer bag du jour and after a moment pulled out a newspaper page and held it up. “I don’t know if you saw this.” There was a photo of a patrol officer walking a child to a cruiser. Their backs were to the camera, but it was clear what the child was holding. More than holding, he was really cuddling it.