“She’ll be fine,” I said with a confident smile. Had somebody said something to my boss? I was relieved when Mrs. Shedd seemed okay with my answer. I hadn’t told her the real reason the group was meeting at CeeCee’s, and I was hoping to keep her in the dark about Sheila’s problems with the class until I’d solved them. As far as Mrs. Shedd knew, the group wanted to get together outside of the bookstore to go over our plans for all of the classes.
“I didn’t realize you were going to take so long,” my boss said. “And with Adele gone, it was difficult.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, leaving out the reason for our delay. It’s not that I wanted to lie. I just thought the truth would make her uncomfortable. But I should have known it would come out anyway. We started to walk toward the information booth, which was the closest thing I had to an office.
“Molly, I’m worried about Yarn University. We have invested quite a bit of money and can’t afford for it to be a flop, or even for any single class to be a flop. I don’t want unhappy students asking for refunds.”
“Don’t worry,” I reassured her. “It’s going to be fine. In fact, we’re all getting together here after the bookstore closes to go over things,” I said, trying to sound confident and in charge. “We have the event here coming up. All the teachers will show off what each class is going to make.”
Mrs. Shedd’s face started to relax. “Of course. You do seem on top of things. I knew I was making the right decision when I made you assistant manager.”
If only Mrs. Shedd had walked away then. Instead, Adele came in the door and flew across the open space, stopping next to the information booth. She was in full drama mode with her hand to her forehead. “Molly, you’re lucky they let you go so quickly. I told them about my fiancé, Eric, but nobody seemed to care, and they kept me there forever, asking me again and again if I knew who that person was.”
Adele had worked at the bookstore longer than I had, and we’d initially gotten off to a bad start because I had been hired as the event coordinator and she had expected to be moved up to the position. As a consolation, she’d been put in charge of the children’s department, which mostly involved putting on story time. Considering she didn’t like kids, it wasn’t much of a prize, at first, anyway. But then she realized she could dress up in costumes and do dramatic readings. Since costumes and drama were second nature to Adele, it was as if she’d found her calling. Best of all, the kids loved it.
Mrs. Shedd was staring at me now with her mouth hanging open. “Tell me that the person you’re talking about isn’t dead and that it wasn’t the real reason you two were gone so long.”
My silence spoke volumes, and Mrs. Shedd started to shake her head and mutter to herself about how I always seemed to encounter dead people.
“Pamela, I know what you’re worried about,” Adele began, calling our boss by her first name. “I just want to assure you that there is no reason to worry. If Sheila can’t do it, I can always take her place. I’ve even developed a shortcut to her color effect.”
My eyes were wide, and I was waving my hands frantically behind Mrs. Shedd, trying to stop Adele before she said anything more. Luckily, Adele was more interested in showing off her version of the piece than talking about Sheila’s problems. She had pulled out the same blue length of crochet she’d shown us earlier and laid it on the counter of the information booth for Mrs. Shedd to see.
“Adele, it’s very nice, but learning Sheila’s special method is what’s attracting all our sign-ups,” our boss said. “If we do Yarn University again, maybe we can have you do a class then.” I let my breath out when I realized Mrs. Shedd had missed the comments about Sheila. Adele appeared disgruntled as she put away the strip of crochet. Mrs. Shedd turned back to me.
“Molly, I don’t know how you do it, but dead bodies seem to show up in your life way too often. It must make people nervous about spending too much time with you.” She sighed. “I shouldn’t say this, but you better tell me the details.”
Joshua Royal joined us as I was telling the story. Joshua and Mrs. Shedd were partners in more than just the bookstore, though they didn’t talk about it, and we all pretended that we didn’t know. They were the perfect example of the unfairness of nature. They were both somewhere in their sixties but wore the age so differently. Her blond hair was natural and didn’t have a single gray strand, but her body and face had settled into a matronly shape, while Joshua still had a boyish quality to him. It didn’t matter that his shaggy hair had some gray and his face had a few lines—somehow they just gave him more character. Returning my attention to the conversation, I noticed a duffel bag at Joshua’s feet.
“Don’t worry, Pamela,” he was saying. “Molly’s a great sleuth. She’s probably already on it, right, Molly?”
Mrs. Shedd shook her head with concern. “This isn’t the time for Molly to be investigating, not when we’re about to have Yarn University.” She put her hand on Joshua’s arm. “I wish you weren’t going.”
“I’ll be back before you know it. Besides, you don’t need me for the classes. Molly and the Hookers will do great.” There was no talk about where he was going or why, but I knew that it was part of their arrangement that he could take off whenever he got the itch to travel. For years he had traveled the world and been just a silent partner in the bookstore. I hadn’t even believed he was real when I was first hired. Mrs. Shedd looked at him sadly.
“Do what you have to do,” she said. I noticed that he didn’t look at her face for too long, quickly picking up the bag and waving to us all before Mrs. Shedd walked him to the door.
Joshua had actually hit the nail on the head. Between talking about Yarn University and keeping Mrs. Shedd in the dark about Sheila’s anxiety issues, I had been thinking about the incident at CeeCee’s. I had a lot of questions. Who was the person? How did they end up there? Why had the vest they were wearing looked familiar? Was the cause of death carbon monoxide? Was it an accident? Then that made me wonder again how the person ended up there to have an accident in the first place.
“Earth to Pink,” Adele said, waving her hand in front of my face. Yes, she called me by my last name. It had annoyed me in the beginning, but now it was just habit. Adele couldn’t help it—she was just difficult. I thought of her as that cousin everybody seemed to have who was always stirring things up but whom you dealt with because they were family. The crazy part is that Adele thought I was her best friend and wanted me to be her maid of honor. Though she had said the correct title for me was matron of honor, which made me sound like I was a hundred years old.
I snapped out of my reverie and got back to the matter at hand. “I need your help,” I said. Adele perked right up and of course misunderstood.
“Of course. Yarn University should really be a co-project for us,” she said. There was no point in going into why that wasn’t true. Mrs. Shedd had put it all on me, just as she had the yarn department, because Adele went bonkers over knitters. You can’t have a yarn department or yarn craft classes and exclude knitters. But what I really needed her help with was completely knit-free.
“Sheila never got to do her practice class,” I said. “We can’t just let it slide. I was thinking we could try again here at the bookstore after we close. I don’t think we can count on CeeCee to come, though.”
“I’m on it,” Adele said, pulling out her cell phone. “I’ll get in touch with everybody. It’s perfect for me to step in for CeeCee since I really am the leader of the group.”
I rolled my eyes. Adele was still dueling CeeCee for the position, but at the moment, I doubted CeeCee cared in the least.
* * *
Hours later, as the bookstore’s last customers were filing out, Rhoda and Elise came in. After waving hello, they went right to the back table, put down their totes, and started laying things out on the table.
Mrs. Shedd was standing with me near the door of the bookstore. Sh
e looked back toward the yarn department. “Maybe I should stay and see how everything goes.”
“You’ve had a long day,” I said in a concerned tone. “You don’t need to stay. I’m sure everything will go fine. Adele and I will lock up.” I glanced back at the door with apprehension. Sheila hadn’t arrived yet, and I really wanted Mrs. Shedd gone before our nervous teacher showed up. All it would take was Sheila to start apologizing about her problems and Mrs. Shedd would have her own anxiety attack.
Finally my boss reluctantly left, and I let out a sigh of relief. I let out another when Sheila showed up. “I’m here,” she said, sounding nervous but determined. She glanced around at the closed bookstore and finally to the back table. “Is CeeCee coming?”
“Adele left word for her, but considering what happened, I would think not.” Her face fell at the news. “But Dinah’s coming. I spoke to her myself.” I gave Sheila a reassuring pat. “The only no-show is Eduardo. He has something to do with his business.” Sheila seemed okay with the news and headed back to join the others.
I had hoped Dinah would arrive early, but I was still hanging by the door waiting for her when to my complete surprise CeeCee showed up, along with Babs, who had wisely brought a tray of brownies. I sent them back to the yarn department and continued to wait for my friend. I’d gotten her voice mail when I called, and I had given her only the most basic information on the events at CeeCee’s, hoping to fill her in when she got there. I was glad when I saw her rush past the front window and come inside.
“Sorry I’m late. I miss all the excitement. Really—a body in CeeCee’s guest quarters,” Dinah said, giving me a fast hug. I started to lead her toward the back.
“I need more time to give Commander an answer,” Dinah was saying as we approached our friends, presumably talking about Commander’s proposal. “When I was young, I just jumped into things, but now I can’t help but think about all the consequences.” She stopped just before we reached the table. “And that’s the last you’ll hear of it tonight. Now it’s all about Sheila.” Her eyes locked on Babs as she circulated with the brownies. “I miss one get-together and you find a mysterious body and get a new member!”
No surprise, the conversation at the table was all about finding the body, what the cops had asked people and what was going to happen next. There was certainly a connection between chocolate and upset women. The brownies had disappeared at an alarming rate. By the time I finally sat down, there was only one left on the plate. I gestured for Dinah to take it.
“How long do you think the body was there?” Dinah asked me between bites.
“Too long,” I answered, making a face. Adele was quick to add her commentary about the horrible smell.
“Eww.” Dinah held the brownie out with sudden distaste.
But nothing seemed to affect CeeCee’s sweet tooth—she asked Babs if there was a chance there were more brownies in her car. Poor Babs seemed upset that there weren’t, and she profusely apologized.
“I would have made more if I’d known. I love having a purpose. Mostly all I do is watch the nannies take care of the kids. The first time I actually got to put them to bed was last Thursday. The nannies had the night off, and my son and daughter-in-law went to a party.” Babs looked around and was embarrassed that she had vented so much. “I’m so sorry. It’s just that I feel like such a third wheel here. I don’t understand why my son was so anxious for me to come and stay with them. Every minute of those kids’ lives is programmed with dancing lessons, tennis lessons, reading lessons, swimming lessons. How about a few minutes just to pretend and be kids?”
The members of the group made some consoling noises, but conversation quickly turned back to the events of that afternoon.
“When I told my officer that I was a police fiancée—” Adele paused and held up her hand to show off her engagement ring to the group, as if there was any chance we hadn’t seen it. Her gaze stopped on Babs, and she realized Babs might not know everything about Eric. “He’s a motor officer and first responder.” At that Adele turned to the whole group. “When my officer realized I was almost a police wife, I got special treatment.”
I looked at Dinah, and we shared a disbelieving raise of our eyebrows. Most likely Adele’s special treatment was in her imagination. Her officer certainly must have had his work cut out for him when he tried to question her. With her ample build and height, she had a presence that demanded attention. The fact that she was always festooned with a lot of her crochet handiwork made her stand out even more. Her current outfit included a beanie with a large flower and a long denim skirt with white doilies sewn on it—not your everyday wear.
“It was just horrible,” CeeCee said in a small voice. “They certainly didn’t give me any special treatment.” CeeCee was usually perfectly done up, but tonight she looked almost disheveled. Her normally flawlessly coiffed brown hair was askew. She was still wearing the outfit she’d had on earlier, but the events of the day had left their mark. The white shirt seemed wilted and had gotten pulled to the side, and her tan slacks were wrinkled. She sighed heavily.
“How many times did they have to ask me when I was last up in the guest apartment? And did I know who the victim was?” She turned her attention to me. “Most of the questions came from your Barry Greenberg and some other detective. Allen somebody. They were treating me like an outsider in my own house! They looked through everything and in every room. I suppose I should be grateful they didn’t dump all the drawers out.”
“First of all, he isn’t my Barry Greenberg anymore,” I said. “And when was the last time you were up in the guest apartment?”
CeeCee shook her head vehemently. “I don’t know. I think I went up there last week. That’s when Tony and I talked about it being a studio.” She paused for a moment, and her brow wrinkled. “But I’m sure the shutters were open, because I was thinking that we’d need to enhance the natural light. And the heat certainly wasn’t on. And if you’re going to ask me about who the victim is, all I can tell you is what I told the police. I don’t know.”
“Who has access to the place?” Rhoda asked. CeeCee seemed unhappy with the question.
“The cops asked me that, too. There’s Rosa, and she lets the pool man in, and the pest control guy. A handyman came by to do something to the garage door.” She hesitated. “And, well, Tony does.” She had never completely spelled out their relationship, and I had no idea how much time he actually spent there. I was trying to think of a nice way of asking if he lived there, but Rhoda beat me to the punch.
“Then Tony is living with you?” she said with a note of surprise.
CeeCee let out another heavy sigh. “When he lost the job on the soap opera—excuse me, continuing daytime series—he was devastated. I tried to tell him something would come along, but he wouldn’t listen. I had no idea his identity was so wrapped up in that one part. I like to think I have never done that. When my sitcom ended, I simply let it be known I was looking for work and that no job was too small. All those guest spots and cameos paid the bills and kept me in the public eye. And then I landed the part of Ophelia, and now I’m in demand again.” She fluttered her eyes. “He got it in his head that he wasn’t going to wait around for something to come his way. He decided to get some control over his career, so he sold his place and is using the money to finance a web-only series. He’s been staying with me.” She checked the group for their reaction. Apparently Rhoda appeared a little judgmental. “Oh, so what? We’re both adults.” CeeCee rolled her eyes. “Can we get down to why we’re actually here?”
Sheila had been sitting silently at the table, crocheting with string. It was her own personal tranquilizing system—she wasn’t actually making anything; she was just using the repetitive motion to soothe herself. Now all eyes turned on her, and she put down the string and hook.
“If you can’t do it, just say the word,” Adele said, pulling out the strip of crochet s
he’d shown off earlier. Hers was made with a single strand of yarn that had color variations, giving it sort of a similar look to Sheila’s projects, but the colors weren’t as nice and the texture was different.
“C’mon, Sheila,” Rhoda said, glancing at her watch. “Just go ahead and do it. You’ve made lots of these pieces in this style.”
The rest of us offered her more encouragement, and Sheila finally went to the head of the table. She swallowed a bunch of times, so Dinah smiled at her and gave her a short pep talk, bringing up all the classes she taught at the community college and the reluctant students. “We’re all interested. And so will your students be interested. Think about it. They are so interested in learning from you, they are paying for the privilege.”
Instead of reassuring Sheila, that statement had the opposite effect. Her eyes grew big and round, and I could tell her breathing had gotten shallow.
“Show off the finished project first,” Rhoda said. She looked to Elise. “We’ll show you how.” I hadn’t noticed with all the commotion, but Rhoda and Elise had set out samples of the projects from their upcoming classes. Elise picked up a scarf done in her favorite vampire style, and Rhoda ruffled through the assorted felted items she had set out before picking up a small multicolored bag and displaying it to the group.
“Say something about your piece when you show the class, dear,” CeeCee said to Sheila, trying to sound encouraging.
Adele stepped in. “Don’t hold up the finished piece to start with. Just tell them to pick up their yarn and show them what to do with it.” Adele followed her own instructions, holding up a skein of yarn and doing the first few stitches of her version of Sheila’s pattern.
“That’s not very helpful,” Rhoda said to Adele. “Don’t listen to her.” She had turned to Sheila, who was shaking her head and muttering to herself.
Seams Like Murder Page 6