A Stitch in Crime

by Betty Hechtman

  “But kill Nina—are you out of your mind? She was mean as a snake to me, but she was still my sister.” She glanced around at everyone staring at her. “And I can prove it. I’m allergic to peanuts, too. If I had handled something with peanut butter on it, I would have had an allergic reaction, too. Even if I’d shot myself with an EpiPen, I’d have needed follow-up emergency care. If you don’t believe me, ask my husband.”

  Bennett came forward and said it was true, then started to describe Nora’s attempt to get the airline employee to insist that nobody on the plane eat anything with peanuts. He looked at me with contempt.

  Nora broke in. “The smell alone is enough to give me a sneezing attack. I need to know the ingredients of everything before I eat it or use it on my body.” Now the scene at the airport all made sense.

  “Wow, so I was right. This was a mystery weekend after all,” the woman in the turquoise earrings said, starting to applaud. I ignored her comment, wondering how I could have been so wrong.

  “But somebody sabotaged the car. Somebody didn’t want this picture to surface.” I looked toward the edge of the crowd and saw that Sergeant French had disappeared.

  Adele burst through her group. “Pink, what did you do to my car?”

  CHAPTER 24

  “PINK, RUNNING ISN’T GOING TO MAKE IT GO away,” Adele said, following me as I skulked to the administration building. No wonder Sergeant French had abandoned me. I had egg on my face and down to my shoes. Only the woman who still thought it was a mystery weekend had seemed satisfied. Nora had added that my accusations were heartless, and she threw in a few comments about how poorly the retreat had been run and said they were leaving. I was a little surprised when Bennett confronted her and said he could understand if she wanted to leave, but he wasn’t going to abandon his actors. Everyone else had looked on with discomfort. Mason, in an effort to save the day, suggested an extra tai chi session. The crowd seemed anxious to get away from all the discord and abandoned their wineglasses, eagerly following him.

  The lobbylike interior of the administration building was empty except for the person behind the registration desk. Someone had left the TV on and I glanced at the happy wedding scene on the screen, which seemed at complete odds with how I felt as I flopped into one of the overstuffed chairs.

  “Well, Pink,” Adele said, standing over me. “What are you going to do about my car?” Dinah came through the door and rushed over and hugged me with sympathy. She assured me that Mason’s tai chi session would work wonders to smooth things over. That’s the great thing about a good friend. She didn’t sit and lecture me on my mistakes, but just stepped in to help.

  I put my face in my hands, thinking what a mess things were. Maybe Sergeant French was right. Who would sabotage a car with bubblegum and yarn, or murder somebody with a s’more? The line kept going through my mind. I thought back to the tai chi group and felt my stomach clench as I pictured Adele’s car stuck on the beach, surrounded by yellow tape. I started to get up. “Mason can’t take them to the beach.”

  Dinah gestured for me to sit and said he was doing the session on the patio area outside of the Scripps building. I leaned back in the chair, and tried to forget about everything for a moment. It was useless; the background music on the TV swelled, and grabbed my attention. The happy music was annoying under the circumstances, and I got up to turn it off. Adele protested.

  “This is my favorite part. Wait until they cut the first piece of wedding cake,” Adele protested. After what had happened to her car, I figured it would be a good idea to humor her, so I stood with my hand over the power button as the bride and groom did a whole number with the piece of cake while the three of us watched. Dinah made a yuck sound as I stared at the screen.

  All of a sudden the inflection of Sergeant French’s line that kept going over in my mind changed. “I was wrong,” I said.

  “You can say that again,” Adele said. “Mrs. Shedd is going to realize what a mistake she made giving you the rhinestone clipboard when she hears the mess you made. And you’re still not dealing with my car.”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” I said, turning off the TV. “I was wrong about Nora. I just figured out who was on the beach with Izabelle and what happened.”

  “Pink, haven’t you made enough of a mess?” Adele shook her head and tsk-tsked a few times at me.

  “Maybe, but I think I can fix it. But I need your help.” I nodded at Dinah and Adele. “I need both of your help.”

  Dinah was in right away, but Adele held back.

  “I can’t do it without you,” I said to Adele. “You’re the key.”

  “Me?” she said, standing a little taller. “Hmm, so I’m the key. Well, all I can say is it’s about time you realized my importance. Okay, Nancy Jessica Drew Fletcher Pink, I’m in.”

  With the tai chi session over, our group headed for the dining hall. I watched from behind one of the tall Monterey pines as people began to congregate by the entrance, waiting for the dinner bell and the opening of the dining hall. I was relieved to see that the key players were all there. Dinah and Adele came down the stairs from the deck outside the administration building and walked toward the waiting group. The sound of their arguing got everyone’s attention.

  “I’m telling you, Pink is the one responsible for the mess in my car. It’s her fault the floor mat stuck to the accelerator. I mean, if she was going to chew bubble gum, couldn’t she have at least wrapped it in some paper before she threw it on the floor? She must have thrown some of the yarn down there, too,” Adele said with a toss of her head.

  Dinah bristled. “Molly doesn’t even chew bubble gum, and if she did, she certainly wouldn’t throw it on the floor. Adele, it’s your car. The bubble gum and yarn on the floor were yours. Accept the responsibility.”

  “No way, Jose,” Adele said. “And I’m going to prove it.” She took on a huffy stance that was a little too convincing, and I began to wonder if she’d forgotten they weren’t really arguing. Adele did have a habit of getting carried away.

  “This ought to be good,” Dinah said, throwing in an eye roll and a hand on her hip.

  Adele took a defiant stance. “I’m going down to the beach before the tow truck comes, and I’m going to get that blob of bubble gum and yarn. Pink’s saliva is on that gum, saliva with her DNA. A good friend of my boyfriend, the famous children’s author, will be glad to do a test on it for me.”

  “So long as you send a sample of your DNA with it, so he can see that it was really you who chewed the gum,” Dinah said, pretending not to be aware that the dinner waiters were watching.

  “Don’t worry, I’m going to send along samples from the other presenters, so when Pink’s DNA matches, she can’t claim it was fixed. I got the plastic wineglasses and marked the names on them.” Adele sounded extremely proud of herself, which I knew wasn’t an act. I hoped nobody really thought about that last part, and realized it would have been impossible to do. There was more of an interchange between them, but I didn’t hear it. I had slipped from behind the tree and was on my way to the beach.

  I heard the dinner bell ring as I crouched on the passenger side of the car, away from view. The yellow tape had broken loose and was flapping in the breeze.

  I felt the vibration of footsteps in the sand and swallowed hard as my body tensed. I could feel them getting closer and my heart rate kicked up. But when a hand touched my shoulder, my heart almost jumped out of my chest.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Dinah said, reading my panicked body language. “But I couldn’t leave you here alone.” I waved for her to get down and put my finger to my lips. She’d barely hit the sand when we began to feel the vibrations of footsteps. They quickly grew in intensity and then they stopped. We both swallowed hard. This was definitely it.

  The car rocked as the driver’s window shattered. There was more noise and motion as something pushed through the glass and the door was unlocked. The two of us popped up like jack-in-the-boxes ju
st as the car door opened. I knew who we were going to see. Sergeant French was probably right. Most people wouldn’t think to use bubblegum and yarn to make an accelerator stick. But most people didn’t work on a TV show where the hero’s claim to fame was that he used everyday things in unusual ways. Bennett was already leaning over the seat toward the gas pedal. When he saw us, he jumped back.

  “Ladies,” he said, actually making it sound like he was glad to see us. He was certainly good on his feet. “I heard you talking up by the dining hall. I thought I’d come down and see if I could help,” he said, as if we wouldn’t notice the broken window.

  “I don’t think so,” I said as I walked around to the other side of the car. “I know what you did. I know how you did it. I’m just not sure why you did it.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Then he leaned down and pulled out the wad of gum and yarn and threw it toward the water. It made a splash as it hit. “I’ll be going now,” he said, but Dinah ordered him to halt.

  Bennett began to laugh. “What are you two going to do, tie me up with your shoelaces?”

  Dinah and I didn’t say anything. Bennett thought he was home free, but he didn’t know what was coming up behind him. We could see what was going to happen before he did. Suddenly a pouch bag slapped him in the cheek, swung out and came back and hit him again. “You? You’re the one who wrecked my car,” Adele yelled like a banshee, swinging the purple bag harder as Bennett tried to shield his face, yelping with pain. Adele kept swinging the bag, and no matter how he moved his hands, he couldn’t avoid injury. When he tried to leave, she was on him like cream cheese on a bagel, and he couldn’t get away. I had never realized Adele had such a good arm.

  Bennett wasn’t the only one who could use everyday things for extraordinary purposes. Dinah and I raided the backseat and took out a one-pound skein of burgundy worsted yarn and began winding it around and around his legs. Not giving up, he tried to hop away while still trying to get hold of the pouch bag. He didn’t know who he was dealing with. Adele kept winding her arm and the bag kept eluding his grasp.

  “You women are crazy! What are you doing now?” an angry voice said. When I looked up, Nora was jogging across the sand toward us.

  Adele stopped swinging the pouch bag, but held it at the ready.

  “What do you have in there, rocks?” Bennett asked, massaging his chin.

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Adele said. “I found some pretty ones on the beach and there’s my cell phone, too.”

  “Enough chit-chat. Is somebody going to tell me what’s going on? And for heaven’s sake unwrap his legs,” Nora barked.

  I looked at Bennett. “Are you going to tell her, or should I?”

  He grunted. “I’ve got nothing to say.”

  “In that case,” I said, getting my thoughts in order. But Adele beat me to the punch.

  “He not only broke the window of my precious car, but it’s his fault Pink ended up driving my car on the beach. Will you look at it? I wonder if it will ever work again.” Adele went over and stroked her car.

  Nora looked at Bennett strangely. “You didn’t do that, did you?” Then she reconsidered. “Don’t say anything.”

  “There’s nothing to say. You can’t prove that I did anything to the car, or that anybody else did, for that matter. The evidence is gone out to sea. And that ridiculous story about the s’more . . .” Bennett said.

  “We saw you smash the car window,” Dinah said.

  This time Nora spoke. “We’ll pay for the window. I’m sure it was just a mistake. We’ll pay for several windows. Now undo him this instant, or I’m calling the police.” She had her cell phone in her hand.

  Dinah and I looked at each other. Before we could tell her to go ahead, I saw a police car park along Sunset, and a moment later Sergeant French trudged across the sand toward us.

  Nora rushed over to him. “Thank heavens you’re here. Those women tied up my husband.” Bennett said something similar, and suggested we should be arrested. No one could say he didn’t have nerve.

  Sergeant French surprised me by asking me what was going on, then listening carefully as I told him the scenario with the s’more and Bennett breaking the window and tossing the wad of gum and yarn into the water to cover up what he’d done.

  Bennett laughed it off and said, “I’m afraid Ms. Pink got carried away with her amateur sleuthing.” He looked to Sergeant French, appearing to expect some kind of agreement. Instead, the police officer took out his handcuffs and slapped them on Bennett.

  “What?” Bennett said in shock.

  “Do you know who he is?” Nora demanded.

  Sergeant French nodded. “I know exactly what name to put on the arrest report. For now, you’re under arrest for vandalizing the Honda. But I’m confident you’ll also be charged with attempted murder and murder.”

  “He got rid of the evidence,” I said in a low voice. “Your people took samples before, right? Now they’ll know whose DNA to match it with.”

  “Thanks for the suggestion, Ms. Pink. Don’t worry, we’re professionals. He pointed toward the flapping yellow tape on the car. “I had my forensic people go over the car thoroughly when I was here before. They took a sample of the glop under the accelerator along with everything else before they released the car.”

  This time Bennett didn’t smile. I noticed Mason had joined our group on the beach, though he had stayed several steps back.

  Even though Sergeant French made sure Bennett knew his rights, being handcuffed did something to him. He totally lost his cool and began to babble. “I did it for you,” he said, looking at his wife. He turned to the rest of us. “All these years Nora has stayed by my side. She’s managed my career and seen me as a star when I knew I was just a working actor who most people barely recognize. We’ve been through a lot together. I’ve had my lapses, and she’s always forgiven me. I had to protect her.”

  Nora tried to silence him and when she noticed Mason, tried to secure his services on the spot, but Mason declined and Bennett kept talking.

  “It was all a plan. When Izabelle asked for help with her presentation, it was just a reason to get me alone.” He paused as if he expected understanding.

  “You could have kept your pants on,” Dinah said with disgust.

  Bennett shrugged her comment off. “What can I say—I’m weak. When a woman offers herself up, I’m accommodating. When we met again the next morning, I saw the photo of the doll in her book and recognized it as the same doll Nora has. When I confronted her, she admitted she was my wife’s twin. She said our relationship would be our own little secret, but I didn’t buy it. I knew the cruel things she’d done to my wife when they were kids. She took everything my wife valued. You don’t know how devious she was.” He detailed how while his wife had not known where her sister was, Izabelle knew everything about Nora’s life. He spoke directly to his wife. “It seemed to bother her that you had married your way into Hollywood and had stayed married for a long time. She’d been dumped by three husbands. To me our tryst was just a lapse, but she wanted it to be the beginning of something. At the very least I was sure she would throw it in your face. I couldn’t let her devastate you that way.”

  He said he’d appeared to go along with her plan and arranged the meeting on the beach. He knew about Izabelle’s peanut allergy.

  I couldn’t help myself as I interrupted. “And I know how you did it.”

  All eyes went from him to me. “I saw a snippet of a wedding on a TV show. The bride cut the first piece of wedding cake and fed it to the groom, and then they kissed and frosting got all over both of their faces as the cake traveled back and forth.” A low hum of yuck went through the group. “That’s how you got her to eat the s’more. Well, eat is the wrong word, isn’t it? You got it into her system. You bit off a piece and then kissed her. Tongues and all.”

  Dinah muttered something about it really being the kiss of death.

  Bennett said nothing, but th
ere was just a flicker in his expression that made it clear I’d hit on the truth. “You probably removed the pouch bag at the same time, or maybe even in advance, and then threw it out of sight. And then you cold-bloodedly walked away.”

  Tears were streaming down Nora’s face. Bennett kept silent, but I talked on. “You knew about the doll in the photo and overheard what I was planning to do. You didn’t want me to find out Izabelle was your wife’s twin because you knew that I didn’t believe Izabelle’s death was an accident. And that once I knew your wife was her twin, suspicion would fall on her. But that wasn’t your real concern, was it? She had the alibi of not being able to handle peanut butter without it being a problem. But you were afraid once suspicion was off her, it might go onto you. You were afraid I might figure it out. And I did,” I said with a little pride in my voice.

  One of Sergeant French’s colleagues led Bennett off the beach toward the police car parked on the street. He told Adele he’d arranged to have her car towed to a repair shop. She told him to talk to me.

  The sergeant turned to me, and I spoke first. “Thanks for showing up. When I left the message, I knew it sounded kind of strange, and after the whole thing with the doll’s head—well, I wasn’t sure if—”

  Sergeant French’s face broke out in an understanding smile. “I would show up,” he said, finishing my thought. “This has been one strange case. We don’t get a lot of murders up here, and they’re usually by gunshot or stabbing. Never by s’more.” He paused as if considering what he was going to say. “The truth is, Ms. Pink, I wasn’t going to come. Frankly, when I heard you had set up some kind of sting, I wanted to steer clear of it. But I got a call. Detective Greenberg said sometimes the things you did seemed off the wall, but more often than not, you turned out to be right. I take it he’s a friend of yours?”