By Hook or by Crook

by Hechtman, Betty

  “But that was a long time ago,” Dinah said.

  “I’ve been keeping my spare key in the same place since we moved into our house,” I said. “I’m betting it’s still there.”

  Bob interrupted and asked if I wanted him to make up more iced tea samples. I told him my need for them was done. As he prepared to go back to the café, he asked me if I’d heard any more about who was to be the subject for Making Amends. It took me a moment to remember what he was talking about.

  PANDEMONIUM WAS WAITING WHEN I ARRIVED home. The She La Las and their spouses had gathered for a pep evening before the audition. All three women were drinking hot water, lemon juice and honey spiked with vodka. My father was trying to calm the women down by telling them they were a sure thing. The other two husbands looked exhausted by the ordeal.

  My mother saw me trying to slip down the hall and rushed over. “Wish me luck, honey, wish me luck,” she squealed as she held me tight. “Tomorrow’s the big day.”

  I smiled and agreed it was a big day. For all of us.

  THE DOGS FOLLOWED ME INTO SAMUEL’S ROOM and I shut the door. I was looking through his old hooded sweatshirts when the phone rang.

  “Hi, sunshine,” Mason said, sounding fresh and upbeat. As soon as he heard the tension in my voice, he offered to come rescue me from Camp She La La. I was too focused on getting ready for my Catalina trip and without giving details, passed.

  “How about tomorrow night?” Mason offered.

  I gave him a pass on that, too. I didn’t want him to take it personally and I also didn’t want to explain about my trip, so I suggested Saturday. He made some comment about checking his calendar.

  “It’s my grandson’s birthday. Ever since my son moved back in the area, birthdays have become an all-day affair. The whole family shows, and there’s a magician for the kids and a pitcher of sangria for the adults.”

  “I could do that,” I said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been to a kid’s party. It would be fun.”

  There was such a long pause on his end, I thought we’d been cut off. “Mason, are you still there?” I said finally.

  “Molly, about Saturday,” he said with an ominous catch in his voice. “I never take my girlfriends to family things.”

  Now the silence was on my end. I didn’t know what I was more upset about. The s on the end of girlfriend or being put off.

  “Girlfriends,” I said finally with a huge emphasis on the s.

  I heard Mason groan. “It was an unfortunate use of the plural. I meant I never take my current girlfriend to family events. There, is that better?”

  “No.” The word slipped out before I really thought it out. All he was doing was offering me exactly what I’d said I wanted. Something casual with no strings, no commitments and no future. He didn’t bring any of his girlfriends to family things because they were just temporary players. I didn’t like being relegated to a list, and I didn’t like knowing the ending when we’d barely begun. “I’m sorry, Mason, that doesn’t work for me. I’m an all-access sort of person, like you’ve had with my family.”

  “It’s different with your family. I knew your son first.” Mason made regretful noises. “Molly, lets just erase everything I said and start over.”

  “Can’t. I have to go,” I said quickly and hung up. Good work, Molly, from too many men to none. I wondered if Mason would still bail me out if things went badly on my trip.

  CHAPTER 29

  I STOPPED AT LE GRANDE FROMAGE IN THE morning for a red eye before driving to Long Beach to catch the boat. There was too much hysteria at my house to even attempt to make a pot of coffee. I wished my mother good luck and left as she was yelling “Irv, I can’t find my shoes.” Nobody asked where I was going, and I didn’t volunteer the information.

  Everyone in Tarzana seemed to have stopped there for coffee, and I joined the crowd at the counter. Adele found me in line. “Pink, why are you taking the day off?” Adele had a naturally loud voice, and several people turned to see what the noise was about. I tried to give Adele a vague answer, but she saw the printout of my Catalina reservation sticking out of my tote bag. She stared at my outfit—the baggy hooded sweatshirt over jeans, my hair hidden under a baseball cap.

  “I get it, you’re going to Catalina incognito. But Pink, consider this: I knew it was you right away. It’s the mystery thing with that crochet piece again, isn’t it?” she said.

  “Could you keep your voice down,” I said in a loud whisper. I glanced over the line behind me and saw several familiar faces. Hal was back there and just behind him, Camille. I wondered if they had heard. Then I noticed Matt was at his usual table poring over something as he ate his breakfast.

  “I thought you gave that up,” she said, sticking to me like glue.

  I merely smiled at her and said nothing, but it didn’t help. “Pink, you have to let me come with you. You need someone to watch your back. Please.” At that she hugged me and hung on to me. “You and Dinah have all the adventures. Let me be your sidekick this time.”

  I hated to admit that she had a point. Even with Mason’s number already punched in my phone ready for the send button, it would be better not to go alone. But Adele? She seemed to have forgotten that not too long ago she’d been telling me what a mess I’d made of everything. Now she was acting as though we were almost best friends or at the very least, crochet sisters. Hoping I wouldn’t regret it, I said she could come.

  Never the subtle one, Adele started jumping up and down and saying I was going to be glad she came with me.

  There were no dolphins on the trip over this time and not much sun. Just a white sky and me trying to will the boat to go faster and Adele trying to grill me about what I was going to do on the island. I told her it was better for her if she didn’t know.

  I pulled the hat down as we got off the boat. I glanced ahead to the business area and was relieved not to see Deputy Daniels. When we got to the green pier, Adele and I separated. She went to play miniature golf, and I followed the curved road along the shore. We’d agreed that we would meet back at the boat dock and take the next boat back. And if I didn’t show up, she should call Dinah.

  My heart rate kicked up as I passed the Casino Building and went around the bend.

  The cats looked up as I approached the house, but other than that it was deserted. The trees shaded the area into gloominess. When I reached the house, I tripped up the stairs with nervous clumsiness. There were two pots of impatiens on the top step. I made a move toward the pot on the left. Hoping Mary Beth had been as much of a creature of habit as I had been, I stuck my hand in the dirt. I dug around, but after a few moments felt nothing but roots. I shook the grit off my hand and my heart rate kicked up as I moved to the pot on the right.

  If I didn’t find a key in there I was in big trouble. I rummaged through the dirt feeling more and more frantic. Something crawled up my arm and I started to jerk away. But just then my finger brushed something metal. I grabbed onto it and pulled my hand away from the pot, while frantically brushing the insect off my inner arm. When I opened my hand I saw the key. It was old and crusted with gunk and I wondered if it would still work.

  I checked the area again and saw no one. Even so, I stayed low as I tried to put the key in the lock. After some maneuvering, the key slid in and then I had to jiggle it back and forth before it turned and I heard the bolt move.

  I opened the door and went inside quickly.

  The faster I was out of there, the better. There was always the chance the deputy would come by and see movement in the house or that the caretaker would come by to feed the cats. I walked across the living room directly to the fireplace. As I stood in front of it, examining the tiles and the mantelpiece, I realized I had a problem. While I might be confident a secret compartment existed, I had no idea where or how to find it. Wasn’t that the thing about a secret compartment? They were secret, invisible.

  The tension was making me light-headed, and I had to remind myself to tak
e some deep breaths. Even so, my heart was pounding as though it would beat itself right out of my chest.

  I ran my hands over the front of the fireplace and then along the mantel between the two metal candleholders. Nothing. I lifted each photo along the top and felt the space underneath for some kind of button or lever. Still nothing.

  The tension was turning into panic. In desperation, I pulled Mary Beth’s filet piece out of my tote bag and looked at the fireplace motif for a clue. Was that a mark on the right side of the mantel or just an extra double crochet in a space? Maybe here was something under the candle-holder. I grabbed it to pick it up, but it didn’t move. Then I pushed and it slid, and as it did, I heard just the slightest click. When I looked at the front, one of the tiles was sticking out a fraction ahead of the others. When I pushed on it, it popped out and slid to the side revealing a box-shaped hiding place. My hand was shaking when I reached in. There were several old Polaroid photos. I looked them over and glanced at the crochet piece in my hand. And suddenly I got it. How could I have missed it? The answer was right in front of me all the time.

  The several panels of cats didn’t refer to the four-legged variety hanging around the house. I’d needed to change the spelling to Katz. And the figure I had taken to indicate Sagittarius wasn’t really meant to mean an archer. The figure was a hunter. The first photo showed Mary Beth holding a baby and gazing down at it. But in the second, the baby was held by Hunter. He was looking away, as though he wanted to drop the bundle and run.

  I put the crochet piece and the photos in my bag, closed up the panel, reburied the key and left quickly while the truth rolled around in my head. And the question of what to do with it.

  I retraced my steps. My plan was to go back to the boat dock and wait there for Adele. The less wandering through town, the lower the chance of being noticed. As I got back into the main shopping area and was passing the green pier, I glanced out at the boats. I did a double take when I saw the name across the back of the one in the closest slip. Camille in gold block lettering. Coincidence or had Hunter followed me? I saw Hunter tying his dinghy to the dock just below the green pier. I ducked behind a palm tree and watched as he climbed the steps to the pier and walked down it toward the beach. I moved around the tree as he passed. He was so close I could see he hadn’t shaved. He stopped when he got to the walkway in front of the business area and looked in both directions. Then he went toward the Casino Building.

  A plan formed in my mind as I glanced out toward the boat. I still had the cups from the encounter with Iris and Ali. If I could get something with Hunter’s saliva, I could prove he was Ali’s father. Surely there was something on the boat—a discarded paper cup or even a straw. I could be on the boat and off in a flash.

  I raced-walked up the pier and down the stairs. I chose the closest dinghy and got in. I put on the life jacket sitting on the seat, untied the dinghy and began to row. At first the boat went in circles, but then I got the hang of it. A few moments later, the dinghy bumped against the side of the Camille . I tied it up, climbed the ladder and went aboard the boat.

  I called hello a few times but no one answered. I rushed past the table and chairs set up on the open back deck. I half tumbled down the stairs to the galley and began fumbling through the small trash can. I pulled out a paper cup from Le Grande Fromage and stuck it in my bag. I was up the stairs and halfway across the deck when Hunter’s head appeared above the side.

  CHAPTER 30

  “IT’S MOLLY FROM THE BOOKSTORE, ISN’T IT?” he said in a friendly tone as he climbed the rest of the way and stepped onto the boat. “People don’t appreciate it when you borrow their dinghy,” he chided.

  Stay calm, I told myself. Still, my heart was in my throat. “I was walking down Crescent and I saw your boat. I thought Camille was here and came to say hello.”

  He was all friendly charm. With the slightly shaggy black hair streaked with gray and the rimless glasses, he looked like a nice guy. “She didn’t come. I decided to play hooky and take the boat out.”

  “Well, now that I know she’s not here, I’ll just go. I want to get the dinghy back before the owner misses it.” I made a move for the side of the boat, but Hunter put his hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for letting Camille join your group. I’ve never seen her so happy. I was just going to open a bottle of wine. We Tarzana expatriates have to stick together. Stay and have a glass.”

  I made a comment about not wanting to miss my boat back, and he glanced toward the empty spot by the dock. “You have plenty of time. It hasn’t even arrived from the mainland yet.” His gaze rested on my tote bag and purse. “What kind of host am I?” he said, taking both items from my arm before I could stop him. “I’ll put this down below until you’re ready to leave.” He tried to unhook the life jacket and take it as well, but I managed to pull away.

  He disappeared down the stairway with my stuff. All my proof was in the tote bag and I wasn’t leaving without it. I considered following him down below and taking my things back, but he was already on his way up with two glasses of wine. He put the glasses on a round filagree doily set in the middle of a small round table.

  “I hope you like pinot noir,” he said, picking up the glass closest to him and taking a sip. He went on about how it came from a small winery near Santa Barbara. “I’d like your opinion on it. I’m thinking of ordering a case.” He gestured toward my glass. I stalled, examining the doily. It was perfect except for a tiny loose stitch next to the glass.

  Although he was completely pleasant, I was sure he had followed me to the island.

  I took a step back from the table and stumbled. He set his glass down quickly and grabbed my arm to steady me. “I’m sure the wine is delicious,” I said. “I just need a minute to get my sea legs.”

  He suggested I sit, but instead I walked to the side of the boat. He was like my shadow he stayed so close.

  His voice had just a hint of impatience as he suggested we go back to our wine. “I don’t want you to miss your boat,” he said. “Or the chance to try the pinot.”

  He again suggested I sit down or at least take off the life jacket. I glanced at the table and told him I was okay.

  “I think I have the hang of standing on the boat now.” I went to take one of the glasses, but he reached first and picked up the one on his right. “Cheers,” I said, taking the other. I just held it, though, and he pressed me to taste it, his tone growing more impatient. I had the feeling if I didn’t start drinking, he was going to pour it down my throat.

  His eyes were locked on the wine as I lifted the glass and took a swallow. I heard him release his breath as he held up his glass. “Cheers.” He drank a large sip of the deep red liquid.

  He watched as I continued tipping the glass to my lips and the amount in the glass diminished. Suddenly, he let down the act.

  “You found the photo, didn’t you?” he said. When I nodded, he wanted to know where it had been, and he appeared angry and frustrated when I described the hiding place that he obviously had missed.

  “You could have made it so much easier on yourself if you had just listened when I left the messages and the gifts.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What was with Mary Beth? Suddenly after all those years, she wants to turn everybody’s life upside down. The kid was happy with the cactus people. Why couldn’t Mary Beth have left things as they were?” He peered at me. “You didn’t know her, did you?”

  I shook my head and he continued. “She married Lance for the package that came with him—he wasn’t the star his father was, but he had control of the estate. They were on the A-list for invitations everywhere. I met Mary Beth at some action actor’s Christmas party in Malibu. Camille and I’d been married for a couple of years.” Hunter ran his finger along the stem of his wineglass. “While I guess Mary Beth liked all the charge accounts, she was getting a little tired of what went with it. Lance had an alcohol problem and an angry disposition. As for me—
Mary Beth was hot and I needed some recreation after all the bowing and scraping I had to do for the Rhead family.

  “When Mary Beth got pregnant, I think it made her loopy in the brain. Where she got the idea I would leave Camille and go off with her—” He shook his head with disbelief. “I had the beginnings of a glorious future. Why would I give that up to go off and live in poorsville? She figured it out eventually and went into the save-her-marriage mode.” His voice rose in intensity. “And now, just as I was about to take over for Alexander Rhead, Mary Beth wanted to ruin everything.” He glared at me. “Right, suddenly I’m going to claim the love child I had twenty-something years ago. Even if Camille was willing to forgive me, Alexander Rhead never would. He’d insist she divorce me. He certainly wouldn’t turn over the production company. He’s a vindictive man, and I have no doubt that he’d put the word out and make sure my career was in ashes. And for what? So some girl who has been okay with who her parents are suddenly gets her world flipped upside down.”