Seams Like Murder

by Betty Hechtman

  She seemed to have forgotten that she’d asked a question. “This is the only place my son will let me take the kids. He’d never let me do it if he knew that adults are banished from story time.” She looked around the yarn department with a sigh. “I was hoping some of the group would be here.” Babs clearly needed to be around people and to have some kind of purpose.

  “I’m the only one here right now. I wish I could sit down and crochet, but I have to finish putting away the stock.” The words were barely out of my mouth before Babs was next to me, offering to help. It seemed almost therapeutic for her, so I let her join me.

  “It was all a misunderstanding with the cops,” I said, referring to her question about the night before. I told her Dinah and I had found a back gate to CeeCee’s. “One of the neighbors saw our flashlight and called the cops.”

  “It looked like they had you in handcuffs,” she said, leaning in for more details.

  “Only temporarily.” I pushed some skeins of forest green yarn to the side of the cubby so I could fit in a batch of turquoise-colored yarn. “Did you know there was a gate on that part of CeeCee’s yard?” I asked.

  She shrugged and said she didn’t. “I know more about the people in the area than their property.” I stopped to think for a moment and suddenly came up with a win-win situation. She needed something to do, and I needed some information.

  “I wonder if you could do a little detective work for me.”

  “I’d be glad to,” she said before even knowing what it was. “Whatever it is, it’s better than standing around watching my grandkids be hovered over by the nannies.” She finished with another box and turned to me. “Does it have to do with the woman we found at CeeCee’s house? I would be glad to do anything to help straighten that out. I heard the police believe she’s somehow involved, and I’m sure it isn’t true.”

  So the word on the street was that CeeCee had something to do with Delaney’s death. I was afraid of that, but then without knowing about the back gate, I could see where people might think that. “I’d like to know who knew about that gate at CeeCee’s,” I said.

  Babs was listening intently. “I can do that. I’ll do it this afternoon and report back later.”

  Mrs. Shedd drifted into the department and gave Babs a puzzled look. “I know I made you assistant manager, but any new hires still need to go through me.”

  I stepped away and let Babs continue filling up a cubby with orbs of lavender yarn. “She’s a volunteer helper,” I said, and Mrs. Shedd relaxed—a little, anyway.

  “Have you gotten the deposit for the extravagant baby shower?” my boss asked.

  “No,” I said, and Mrs. Shedd gave me a knowing look. Filling out paperwork didn’t mean anything. Until we had a nonrefundable deposit, it was too easy for the client to change their mind. I promised to work on it later in the afternoon.

  “You do remember we’re having an author event later.” She picked up on the momentary blank look on my face. “Molly, I know you said you could handle all this, but are you sure? I’m depending on you to make sure Yarn University is a success. It will certainly help support the yarn department. And the crochet parties are definitely bringing in extra revenue. But we need to take care of our core business of selling books.”

  “I’m on it,” I said as the details came into my mind. “I’ll do the setup later,” I said. When I went back to the yarn department, Babs had unloaded the boxes and straightened up the other cubbies. Kids were beginning to come out of story time. Babs grabbed her things and started toward them, and I followed along on my way to the information booth.

  “Until this afternoon,” she said to me. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like ten-four?” I guess I wasn’t the only one who liked to play Nancy Drew.

  * * *

  There were posters around the bookstore advertising the event—I’d just gotten immune to seeing them. I quickly refreshed myself on the details before beginning the setup. There were boxes of books to put out, along with an assortment of natural body products. I had just cut open the first box when Mrs. Shedd found me. She was carrying the blue zippered pouch, and it seemed to be bulging. “We took in a lot of cash this morning, and I don’t like to keep it around. Would you take it to the bank now?” She said it like a request, but I knew it was a command. As she had said before, it went with my new title of assistant manager. I suppose I should have been happy that she trusted me with the cash, but it still made me nervous. There had to be a reason a lot of stores used a service with an armored car and men with guns to pick up the cash. I made some lame remark about wishing I had an armored car with a guard, and she shook her head.

  “Just put the pouch in that tote bag full of yarn and nobody will even suspect you’re carrying a large amount of cash.” Her attention was already back on the main part of the store, checking to see that all the customers who needed help were getting it. She saw a lone person looking lost in the travel department and, with a cluck of her tongue that no one had helped him, left to offer her assistance.

  I retrieved my tote and stuffed the pouch in it as I walked toward the front of the store. Adele was at the checkout counter. She handed our cashier a stack of children’s books and thanked the customer for their business. It amazed me that nobody seemed bothered that Adele was still in her story time outfit. I’m not sure what book she’d read this time, but she had on a purple velvet cape and was holding a wand with a star on the end of it. She topped the outfit with a silver crocheted crown.

  “Where are you going?” she asked as I walked by. I considered what to say. She was still not over the fact that I had been hired to be event coordinator when she thought she should have been given the position. I imagined she was even more upset now that I was assistant manager—she didn’t realize that most of what came with the title was more work. But before I could think of another answer to give, Adele had already figured out I was off on some business for Mrs. Shedd. I could tell she was about to get pouty, so I told her the truth.

  “She’s sending you off alone with a bag of cash?” Adele seemed genuinely concerned, though I wasn’t quite sure if she was questioning Mrs. Shedd’s trust in me or actually worried that I might get mugged. Adele was a handful, but at the same time she had decided I was her best friend in the world—she called us French toast sisters because I had invited her for brunch once.

  “Pink, you better let me come with you. Eric showed me some self-defense moves.” To demonstrate, she jumped back and assumed a stance with both of her arms out in front of her, hands balled into fists. For once, I was actually glad that she wanted to get into the middle of what I was doing.

  “Okay,” I said. The word was barely out of my mouth when she had her bag and had already told Mrs. Shedd that I needed some backup to help deliver the cash. I think Mrs. Shedd had long since decided just to go along with whatever Adele said, especially because the kids’ department was flourishing under her direction. All her drama and costumes were a hit with the kids, and they got their parents to buy a lot of books.

  The sky was gray as we walked outside, and there was a cold, wet feeling to the air. A true winter’s day in Southern California. Adele pulled the purple cape around herself for warmth and stuck close to me as we walked down the street and around the corner to the parking lot. Her head was constantly moving as she surveyed the area for any danger, making the silver crown wobble.

  She rode shotgun and jumped out of the greenmobile as soon as I’d parked in the Bank of Tarzana parking lot. There were lots of people coming and going to the bank, and Adele seemed to be viewing each of them as a threat. I can only imagine how they viewed her.

  Evan Willis came out of the bank, dressed in track pants and a blue jacket, with his gym bag slung on his shoulder. He stopped to talk to a similarly dressed man who was just heading into the bank. I only got a glimpse of the other man’s bland good looks. Was it Pia’s husband?
As Evan Willis started down the steps, I caught his eye. I nodded my head in the start of a greeting, which I intended to follow with a verbal hello, but he abruptly looked away. I was sure he’d seen me. Then I realized that it was a reproach for the previous night. He’d probably mentally branded me as a troublemaker. What if his wife felt the same?

  I thought of Mrs. Shedd’s question about the deposit for the shower. As soon as I got back I was going to contact Kelsey and do damage control.

  Adele was taking her role as bodyguard very seriously and stuck to me like her purple cape was made of Velcro as we threaded through the people coming and going and went inside.

  The greeter practically curtseyed when we came in and barely did a double take at Adele’s outfit. Then I realized why—the local kids’ dentist, who called himself Dr. Supertooth and wore a Superman-like costume, was already in the line. This time I knew to go to the special line and steered my caped and crowned associate toward it.

  When it was my turn I stepped up to the window and slipped the pouch under the divider. I heard Adele let out a satisfied sigh. “Eric would be so proud of how I got you here safely.”

  “What?” the teller said.

  “It’s nothing. We’re just relieved to have gotten here without a problem to drop off the cash,” I said. By then she had opened the pouch and was separating the bundle of cash from the checks.

  “I don’t know if this will make you feel better, but we have people coming in with lots more cash than this, and they just walk in by themselves,” the teller said. “I just handled one of those transactions. I think the deposit was for nine thousand dollars.”

  Adele was still sticking close, even though I’d turned over the money. “What kind of business did he have?” she asked the teller.

  The teller didn’t seem happy with the question. “I know we’re supposed to be friendly, but I think it’s more important to be discreet. I don’t think you’d like me telling someone else how small the deposit from the bookstore was.”

  As she took the bills and put them in a counting machine, she continued talking. “I’m new to handling the business accounts, but that’s just what I think.”

  It didn’t register at first, but her comment made me think about something. “Did Delaney Tanner used to handle the business accounts?” The teller seemed surprised and a little uncomfortable with my question.

  “Yes, this was her regular spot. I want you to know that I’m nothing like her. The way she went on about some actor who came in . . . She said he used to be in a soap opera.”

  “He was in the business line?” I asked.

  The woman caught herself. “I shouldn’t say anything. I thought Delaney was wrong for talking about the customers. Actually, the bank wants us to call them clients.”

  “Did she say anything else about him?” I asked, suddenly very interested.

  “I guess there’s no harm in me telling you since it really didn’t have to do with the bank. She said he was going to let her be an extra in some series he’s doing. Did you know her?” She took the stack of bills out and put in some more to be counted. “No one will tell us what really happened to her. I’m sure it was an accident or suicide.” She looked at me with a furrowed brow. “It couldn’t have had anything to do with the bank, right?”

  I felt bad for the woman and could understand her concern since she’d taken over Delaney’s position. “I actually was the one who found her,” I said. The woman’s eyes widened so much I thought her eyeballs were going to pop out. “I’m trying to figure out what happened.”

  “You’re the one,” the teller said. “I’ve heard about you! You’re like the Sherlock Holmes of Tarzana.”

  “Not exactly,” I said, blushing. “It’s just that I seem to be somehow connected to people who have died around here.”

  Our transaction was done, but the teller kept talking. She offered us bottles of water and lollipops from the jar on her counter, but eventually several people had gotten into the merchant line and the teller realized she had to let us go. As we walked away, she said something I didn’t quite hear. Did she say Molly or Manny?

  Adele and I retraced our steps and were back in the bookstore in no time. I knew it was going to turn into a big deal, but I thanked Adele for accompanying me. She surprised me by throwing her arms around me, which caused her silver crown to tilt, and said, “That’s what French toast sisters do for each other.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Was there any doubt that Delaney had been talking about Tony Bonnard? Not that I had time to think about it. As soon as I got back to the bookstore, I was on the phone with Kelsey Willis doing damage control.

  It was a touchy business. My goal was to not lose the shower business and get her deposit, but without making it seem like I thought she might be backing out. I got her on her cell phone, and she sounded like she was in a restaurant. The whole point was to try to get her to come into the bookstore as soon as possible.

  It took a minute for her to understand who I was—finally, I had to say it was Polly.

  “Oh, it’s you,” she said. “I was going to call you.” I had the sinking feeling that I knew what was going to come next. She was going to cancel.

  What I did was rude, but under the circumstances, necessary. I cut her off and started to talk. “I know we talked on the phone before about your daughter’s choices for the shower, but I’d really like to show you what we offer.” I hesitated about adding, And then you can drop off the deposit.

  “You showed everything to Erin, right?” she said.

  “I did, but I figured since you were paying for it, you should really see what you’re getting.” That apparently struck a nerve.

  “Of course, you’re right. I should really see what she gave the go-ahead for.”

  We agreed on a time that afternoon, and I tried to casually bring up that she might want to drop off the deposit at the same time. She didn’t respond.

  * * *

  I went back to setting up in the event area. There were already signs around the bookstore and in the window announcing “An Evening with Esmaya.” Her event was to promote her book, The Average Joe’s Guide to Meditation, and a line of natural skin care products she was connected to. I knew from the copyright that her real name was Lynn Adler. I hadn’t met her yet. Mrs. Shedd had set it up because she had been convinced that Esmaya would draw a crowd to the bookstore.

  The way the sky was clouding up and the air smelled like rain, I wasn’t so sure about the turnout. I set out a bunch of chairs and put together a display at the front with a table for her books and another table for all the body products. I’d smelled them, and they all had a nice, unisex citrus scent.

  I was just finishing up when Mrs. Shedd pointed two blond women in my direction. I should have figured that Kelsey wouldn’t come alone. But then, Pia was the one who suggested she have the shower at the bookstore to start with.

  I stopped what I was doing and led them over to the yarn department and started to explain that was where we held all the crochet events.

  Kelsey didn’t say anything. She just watched as I brought out the party bag samples and a finished baby blanket, explaining how everyone made a small square. There was definitely something on her mind. And I was afraid I knew what it was.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” I said. Kelsey looked up from the selection of party bags.

  “There was certainly a lot of commotion—the helicopter, the cops, the crowd in front of our house.” She seemed like she felt put-upon by the whole thing. “Evan said he saw two people creeping around in the bushes. And after what happened at CeeCee’s, he thought we were next.” I heard Pia let out a gasp at the thought before Kelsey continued. “He didn’t realize it was you and your friend when he called the cops.”

  “Oh,” I said, thinking an apology was going to come next. I should have known better. People like Kelsey
didn’t apologize.

  “Then we heard you were some kind of amateur detective. So, you were investigating?” she said with a condescending laugh. She leaned a little closer, like she was going to say something important. “If I were you, I’d give up the gumshoe work and concentrate on Erin’s shower. I’m sure you understand that our having her shower here could open the door to a lot of business for you.”

  I wasn’t sure if that was some kind of veiled threat or if she was just acting like she always used to in the PTA—holding on to the upper hand by bossing me around. Whatever it was, I instantly gave up my plan to ask her about their party guests the night of Delaney’s death. “So which of the party bags do you like?” I asked with a pleasant smile, as if I didn’t mind being reprimanded by her.

  Kelsey looked up at Pia with a satisfied smile, thinking she’d gotten her way. “I know which one I like, but which one would you choose?” she asked Pia. Pia pointed out the one I considered top-of-the-line, and Kelsey nodded in agreement before saying, “Great minds think alike. That’s the one we’ll go with.” We went over the rest of the details, and except for some minor changes, she agreed with her daughter’s choices.

  “Okay, then that’s settled.” Kelsey stood up.

  “We just need the deposit,” I said, trying to keep it sounding casual. I was relieved when she agreed. “We can handle it up front.” I waited until they both had gathered their things and we headed out of the yarn department. We were waylaid when Kelsey paused to check out my Esmaya display. She picked up a tube of body lotion, and I was about to explain the upcoming event to her when my breath stopped.