“Do you have any family to help you during this difficult time?” I asked. She shook her head.
“I’m an only child. The closest thing I have to anyone helping me deal with this is Mother’s lawyers, and they’re sorting through everything.”
I asked about her father and she made a face. “Some people aren’t meant to be wives or mothers. K.D. was one of them. My father was her second husband. I think the marriage lasted six months. I never had much of a relationship with him and I certainly won’t now. He died a couple of years ago.”
I was trying to look interested, but not too interested. So, her father wasn’t Ruby Cline’s ex-boyfriend. I casually asked about K.D.’s first husband. “That marriage lasted a couple of years. I think my mother was angry and hurt that he left her for someone else. But she once said that maybe it was payback because he had left someone else for my mother.”
It was hard for Lacey to keep her gaze off her smartphone, and she snuck a look and made a tsk-tsk sound before tapping something in. “My mother was so stuck in her ways. I tried to tell her she should have digital versions of the magazines, but she said that wasn’t going to happen under her watch.”
I took a chance and brought up Ruby Cline, asking Lacey if she knew whether her mother was acquainted with the woman. Lacey gave me an odd look. “Go figure. They were college buddies but then didn’t speak for years, until recently.” In the background Delvin was giving some spiel, and Lacey looked angry.
“He doesn’t get it. Maybe he was supposed to step in if my mother got sick or worse. But it’s only temporary. When everything gets sorted out, I’m sure my mother’s wishes were for me to take over. I don’t know how to knit or crochet, but I went to business school and I know how to be a boss.”
I didn’t know quite how to respond, so I just nodded and said I was sure everything would work itself out. Lacey’s smartphone began to make noise, and she muttered something about having to tweet that Audrey Stewart was a yarn goddess. She started typing the message as she nodded a farewell and went across the aisle to the Knit Style booth without looking up once.
A group finished making their granny square pins and wanted to buy supplies so they could make more of them at home, and I was suddenly busy ringing up sales. As fast as the women had left the table, new people had taken their place.
I had been tuning out Delvin’s endless narration, but then he said something that caught my attention.
“We’ve got a special treat for you,” he began. “You might not recognize his name, but I know you will all recognize his face, and maybe his chest. Eduardo Linnares is not only a former cover model and commercial spokesperson but he is also an expert in something called Irish crochet. It’s all lace to me,” Delvin said with an intonation that indicated it was supposed to be a joke.
A titter went through the crowd. Rhoda had just come into the booth, and she agreed to watch over things for a few minutes. I had to see this. Eduardo had been in the booth on Thursday evening and was to return this afternoon. I hadn’t realized he was doing a demo, too.
Adele appeared out of the crowd and stood next to me. “Pink, I told you I’d take care of things. This Delvin guy is so much easier to work with.”
Just then Eduardo made his way up to the stage and down the catwalk, which put him in the center of the growing crowd. No pirate or cowboy outfit today. He was in firefighter attire down to the boots. The outer coat was open as was the denim work shirt to midway down his chest. The firefighter helmet threw a shadow on his strong jaw and model good looks.
There was something about watching his big hands take out a tiny steel hook and some fine white crochet thread and then begin making a delicate flower motif that still struck me as amazing. What the crowd didn’t know was that Eduardo was so much more than a pretty face. His Irish grandmother, having no granddaughters to teach, had taught him how to do the lacy patterns of Irish crochet. He’d been a member of our group for a long time and took part in all our activities and fiascoes.
I heard Adele making grumbly noises next to me. “How come he has a much bigger crowd than I did when I did my demo?”
“Do you really not get why?” I said, turning to her to see if she was serious. She was.
Eduardo stopped his crocheting and brought out some finished samples of Irish crochet. An appreciative aah went through the crowd when he held up what he called a wedding shawl made up of the standard motifs of flowers and leaves joined together by chains made of stitches almost too tiny to make out. Eduardo had a sense of humor and made some jokes about his outfit.
Actually, he could have said anything and they would have listened with rapt attention. The best part is that he did a pitch for our booth and said he’d be offering free crochet lessons.
Delvin stopped next to us. He surveyed the crowd around us and their reaction to Eduardo. I guess he was used to being the rooster around so many hens, and I could see he was jealous of the attention Eduardo was getting.
“Maybe I should try one of those Stetsons like he wore yesterday,” he said half to himself. The audience didn’t want Eduardo to leave, and women kept asking questions and suggesting he crochet more. Finally, when he stepped down, they crowded around him, wanting pictures with him.
Delvin had started to pout, and I realized this was my chance to talk to him about K.D. and Ruby. Since he acted like he was practically K.D.’s right arm, he probably knew something.
It was always hard to know how to start. Since I was not a real detective, I had no cred to just start asking questions. I had discovered that acting like a busybody worked pretty well. As soon as I brought up K.D., Delvin got very defensive. “I told the cops everything I knew. But I don’t think they were satisfied. They kept asking me the same stuff over and over.”
I pulled him over to the edge of the room where it was quieter. Before I could bring up Ruby, he began with his details of what happened. He stopped for a moment and cocked his head. “I know you have an in with that Detective Greenberg. I’m going to tell you exactly what happened so you can tell him again in case he can’t read his notes.”
I started to object, but Delvin didn’t buy it. “I saw him talking to you. I know that look he was giving you.” I decided it was useless to argue about it and like before with Dinah it would sound like I was protesting, too. And even more, I wanted to hear what Delvin had to say.
“It was crazy all day,” he began. “But then it is always that way before the start of the show. Glitches and problems. I told K.D. to let me handle it, but she was insistent on being in the middle of things, even more than usual. You probably saw the problem she had with a woman who comes into the shop, Julie. No matter how she tried to change that jacket, it’s just like the one she entered last year. Except, of course, for the crochet on it. I was surprised she even showed up after the way K.D. outed her at the studio.
“And there was that whole problem about Rain and her booth. She’s a regular at the show. I thought that K.D. was going to be a hardhead about it, but she reached me on my cell and told me to work out a better location for her.”
He moved on to the confrontation between Audrey Stewart and K.D. “Well, it was more between her attorney, who seems to be another friend of yours,” he said with a little too much emphasis on the word friend. “I don’t know why K.D. was so adamant on pressing charges against her, particularly when these days, actresses like Audrey are ending up in real jails.” He shuddered at the thought.
I didn’t say it, but I was pretty sure that was the point. K.D. had wanted to see Audrey behind bars. “Not that she consulted me on any of it. You’d think as her right-hand person she’d include me. But no. There was something going on. People looking through the books and asking a lot of questions. I tried to find out what was happening, but she said I was imagining things.” He seemed at the end of his spiel, and I took the opportunity to ask about Ruby. “Of course they knew
each other. She has a yarn business and we have knitting magazines and a major yarn studio.” But when I asked if it was personal, he shrugged it off, saying he didn’t think so. He noticed that Eduardo had finally broken free of the crowd, and Delvin went to reclaim his microphone.
Eduardo went by and a whole crowd trailed behind him. Adele and I took a shortcut and got to the booth first. As he stepped behind the table with Rhoda for the free crochet lessons, we were inundated with business. The pin people got relegated to the end of the table, though they seemed more interested in watching what was going on with the crocheting firefighter.
I watched Adele watch how much attention Eduardo was generating. There was a little gleam in her eye as she moved in on his territory. She had slipped on the wrap that was the project in her upcoming class and was basically hanging all over Eduardo, pretending her curled hand was a hose and she was dousing a fire as she kept announcing that her class would be starting soon and she thought she might be able to sneak in a few more people.
When that didn’t have much effect, she crouched next to him as he gave an up-close demo of the Irish crochet. Adele was so busy cuddling up to Eduardo, she’d stopped paying attention to the crowd in front. Until there was a loud throat clearing. “I wonder if Eric knows what kind of a hussy you are,” Leonora Humphries said in a loud voice.
Adele bolted upright, knocking Eduardo’s helmet off and exposing his glossy black hair and ponytail. “Mother Humphries, this isn’t what it looks like,” Adele said. “Whatever Eduardo and I had together was in the past.” She said it in a dramatic tone like it was coming out of one of the romance novels Eduardo had been the cover model of. Anything between them was strictly in Adele’s imagination. Eduardo, ever the nice guy, tried to play along by saying there’d always be a place in his heart for her.
“I stopped by here to see if I need anything to bring to your class,” Leonora Humphries said, trying to compose herself as she glanced over the supply of yarn and tools.
“You’re taking my class?” Adele said, and then she turned to the rest of the people and said in a loud voice, “You must have gotten the last spot.” When no one rushed up to beg to get into the class, Adele turned back to the woman she hoped would someday be her mother-in-law.
“I brought some odds and ends of yarn and rather large knitting needles,” the older woman said. Adele’s eyes bugged out.
“Needles. It’s a crochet class. You need a hook. No, don’t worry, I’ll bring you one of mine.”
“Oh,” Leonora said, sounding genuinely confused. “It would be nice if I could use that handmade one you have.”
It was at that moment that Adele remembered how much trouble she was in. “I have lots of hooks you can use. There’s no reason to dwell on that one.” Adele pulled out a bamboo hook and handed it to the woman. “Here, this is a nice one.” Then she grabbed her large bag and suggested they walk to the class together.
I hadn’t told Adele, but I was worried about the class being empty, so I’d signed up for it. I didn’t want her to have an empty class or just one student like Leonora. Dinah was ready for a break on pin detail and took over sales. Rhoda said her husband was coming by in a while and she was going to show him around, but in the meantime she could stay. Sheila said she’d be glad to help Dinah out. Eduardo was too busy with his crochet groupies to notice that I was gone.
The classrooms were all on the second floor. They all had names that came from local communities. Each had a placard out front with the name and details of the upcoming class. Adele’s was being held in the Studio City room. As I went inside, I realized the classrooms had been shaped by dividing a larger space. Move all the folding walls and there was a large ballroom. It amazed me how temporary it all was. The room had been set up with four tables with four chairs at each of them. A long table was in the front for Adele.
Leonora chose the first seat at the first table. I hung back and was relieved to see more women than I’d expected come in and take their seats. I heard several people remark that before this show with our booth and the demonstrations, they’d only thought of crochet as being picot stitches for edging. I felt a sense of pride. We actually were getting the yarn world to notice us.
The class wasn’t full, but there were enough people not to be an embarrassment. Adele began by modeling the wrap and then talking a few minutes about why crocheting it was so much better than knitting it. “You could never knit this horizontally,” she said. “All those stitches would never fit on knitting needles—even the circular ones.” A murmur of acknowledgment rippled through the group. Even Leonora Humphries nodded in appreciation. The first thing Adele had them do was to lay out the yarn they’d brought and decide the order they wanted to add it to the wrap. Adele made her way through the group, suggesting different orderings of their yarn and, in one case, telling a woman she ought to use two strands of some thin yarn so it would be about the same thickness as the other yarn she’d brought. At last Adele returned to the front and looked out at her class. “Okay, ladies, it’s hooks up.” Adele held up her size L hook and waited until everyone had done the same, except me. I’d forgotten to bring anything but my purse.
Adele made a big fuss that it was lucky she’d brought extra supplies as she set me up. She demonstrated how to do the chain stitches and told the group how many to make. The room fell silent as six people moved their hooks through their yarns. I heard a little rustle in the back of the room but ignored it as I made my chains. Adele was just beginning to start the first real row, and she glanced over the crowd. I saw her eyes grow wide and her mouth fall open, and she took a step back.
Curious what she was reacting to, I looked behind me. My mouth fell open, too, when I saw Detective Heather standing against the back wall. I knew that she was a knitter, actually a very good knitter, but I didn’t think she was here in that capacity. Not when I saw her badge show as the jacket of her blue suit opened. I also caught sight of her gun, but under the circumstances that seemed irrelevant.
Detective Heather walked down the center aisle and stopped right between Leonora Humphries and Adele.
“You’re under arrest for the murder of K.D. Kirby,” she said to Adele as she opened up her handcuffs.
I was down the aisle in a flash. “You can’t do this,” I said. “I made a deal with Barry, uh, I mean Detective Greenberg. No arresting her during the weekend.”
Detective Heather flicked a lock of her blond bangs off to the side. “I don’t know anything about that.” She snapped the cuffs on Adele, who had begun to wail and was trying to reach out to me with her hands behind her back.
“Pink, do something,” Adele said. Then she turned to her students. “There are pages with directions on the table. You’ll have to finish them on your own.” Leonora Humphries looked horrified, grabbed her things and left in a huff.
“I can’t stay,” I said, rushing into the Shedd & Royal booth. “Detective Heather just arrested Adele.” Dinah looked shocked but told me not to worry, she’d keep things going while I was gone. I grabbed my jacket and rushed out to the parking lot.
I never dial and drive, so I called Barry before I started the engine. “We had a deal,” I said. “What happened?”
He seemed confused. “Heather arrested her?” I heard him blow out his breath. “I guess I didn’t mention our agreement to her. I didn’t think she’d do anything without talking to me.” He tried to lighten the moment. “At least this time it’s not you in handcuffs.”
There was dead silence at my end and I heard him swallow. “I’ll meet you at the station.”
Detective Heather got to the West Valley Station before I did, not that it did her much good. As I got out of my car, I saw her standing beside hers with the doors open. She looked frustrated and I quickly understood why. Adele was refusing to get out of the car.
“Hey, Molly, over here,” Detective Heather said. “Tell her to get out of the
car. She’ll listen to you.”
I almost said, “Are you kidding? Adele listen to me? She doesn’t listen to anybody.” But I figured that was counterproductive. I didn’t know what to do, but I finally just started talking to Adele like I had to my boys in their younger days when they’d gotten into a mess. “Adele, it’s okay,” I said in my best calm voice. “It’s all a mistake. You just need to go inside so we can straighten it out.”
Adele didn’t look like she was going to budge, but then she stuck her head out. “You promise?” she said in a plaintive voice.
She got out, and Detective Heather looped her arm in Adele’s and took her inside. I waited until I saw Barry’s Crown Vic pull into the parking lot.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he joined me. Whatever calming effect I’d had on Adele had worn off, and she was making such a ruckus, I could hear her when I walked into the lobby. Barry went back into the cops-only area. A short time later, Adele came out with Detective Heather.
“Are the cuffs off my friend?” I said, trying to see Adele’s hands. Adele held them out to show me that she was free.
“Barry convinced me we don’t have enough to hold her—yet.”
Adele threw herself in my arms. “I knew it. You called me your friend. That’s almost the same as best friend, isn’t it?” She looked at Detective Heather. “Actually, Molly and I are French toast sisters.”
Detective Heather rolled her eyes. “That’s not a ceremony I want to imagine.” Adele was still holding on to me. She barely let go long enough for us to get in my car, then she latched right on again.
We returned to the show. The booth was a madhouse. In our absence Elise had come back with her husband in full Anthony costume. The bins of yarn were close to empty, and all of the thread we’d picked up had been sold or used for our free pin making. Dinah was taking away a tin with a few crumbs left in it and said that Bob had stopped by with a batch of Linzer Torte Cookie Bars to offer with our sales. Eduardo was on the front bench taking a selfie with a fan.
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