“Huh?”
“You know how you’re always saying detectives have a gut feeling about who did something. I have gut feelings too. This time it’s that whoever flew the drone into the yard meant to hit Sloan.”
He was shaking his head with disbelief. “My gut is based on years of experience of dealing with criminals. Do you have any backup for your gut?”
“There’s a video,” I said. “You know about Adele and her vlog. She’s going by ‘The Adele’ now,” I said with a chuckle. “She was taping when it all happened. She showed the video to me, and it looked like that drone was going after Sloan, and then all that stuff dropped on her.” Barry had eaten all of his potatoes, and I offered him more, which he gladly took. “It’s not really dinner conversation, but you’ve never told me what the cause of death was.”
He seemed to be debating with himself. “I thought our deal was that I don’t have to tell you anything.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “C’mon, it’s not fair that you have all the information.”
“It’s not really necessary for you to know anything in order to do what I asked, but okay. There hasn’t been an autopsy, but since everyone but you believes it was a prank gone wrong, they have settled on the idea that she was struck on the head, either by the drone itself or the rocks that were in the bag of garbage, hard enough to knock her out, and she landed face first, so when the payload of garbage fell on her, it suffocated her.”
I looked at my plate with sudden distaste. All I could think of was the stench. Barry seemed unconcerned as he finished off his potatoes.
He put his napkin on his plate. “Unless, you have anything else, I have to go.” I offered him something to take home for Jeffrey.
“Thanks, but he’s eating with Carol and her kids.”
I forced myself to smile as I walked him to the door. “How nice.”
“If you get me that video of Adele’s, I’ll look at it,” he said.
“Really?” I said, surprised.
He smiled. “My gut isn’t as closed-minded as you think.”
Chapter Eighteen
“Barry’s got a girlfriend,” I blurted out when Dinah came up to the table in the yarn department Tuesday afternoon. We were both early for the Hooker gathering.
My friend surprised me by smiling at my announcement. “Well, finally,” she said. “I thought the two of you would never figure it out.” Then I got it. She thought I was being facetious.
“Not me,” I said. When would she ever get that it wasn’t going to happen? “He has a real girlfriend. An ER nurse named Carol. She probably keeps her emotions together just the way he does. The two of them are probably like two robots.”
“You sound jealous,” my friend said.
“Me? Jealous? Of course not. It’s just that Barry really needs someone who could pry open his emotional safe.”
“And who would that be?” Dinah said with a pointed look.
“Not me. Barry and I settled that a long time ago. Remember, he even told me that I should stick with Mason because Mason could give me what I need and he couldn’t.”
“And what was that again, that Barry couldn’t give you?”
I gave her an exasperated sigh. “Remember, Barry is married to his job, and he’s too controlling. He always has to be in charge. And that whole emotional thing too. It makes me crazy how he can keep all his feelings locked behind that blank face.”
“Until you tempt him with food and his hunger surges forward.” She got a mischievous glint in her eye, “Or you tempt him with something else.”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I said decisively. “I’d rather tell you what happened after we left Miami’s.” Dinah seemed disappointed, but she listened to my story of being chased around the yard by the SUV and about the note it left behind. I was surprised by her reaction.
She laughed. “How scary could a toy be?”
“Pretty scary,” I said. “Did I mention that it was big and it let out a creepy laugh just before it flew away.” As I heard myself say the last part, it did seem more funny than menacing, so I added, “You had to be there to appreciate it.”
“So I take it that you’re going to ignore the warning,” Dinah said.
“I don’t like that whoever did it knows where I live,” I said. “But I don’t think it’s anything serious and was meant as more of a nuisance, like dropping a bag of stinky garbage as a protest. I thought back to our time at Miami’s. “I really wish we’d been able to go into that open area.” I smiled thinking of it. “I think I was wrong when I called it a secret garden. It’s more like a garden full of secrets.”
Just then Mrs. Shedd came into to the yarn department. She was smiling, then her brows furrowed. “Where is everybody?”
“It’s summer,” I said. “Our meetings get more casual.”
“I was hoping you could update me on how the kits are coming and about the event. There seem to be so many loose ends to tie up before your time off.” She seemed frazzled.
“No worries,” I began. I went and got a completed kit to show her. I’d taken a photograph of the three scarves I had and added it to the pattern that Elise had given me. The paper was folded in half so the picture and name of the kit showed clearly. I took out the sheet and showed her the other side before opening the bag so she could see the three skeins of yarn and a hook. “We’ll have plenty of kits ready for the event, and I’ll be sure enough are made up for the time I’m going to be gone.”
She seemed impressed.
“There are already signs around the bookstore about the event, and between Mr. Royal and Adele, it’ll be mentioned on social media. Our starting-from-scratch clinic should be a draw.” I threw a lot of excitement into my voice, and it worked its magic.
The tension left her face and she smiled. “I know I can always count on you,” she said before walking away.
“Let me know if you need any help,” Dinah said.
“Thank you,” I said before letting out a sigh. “What happens if Barry’s case isn’t settled before I go?”
“He’ll have to finish alone.” Dinah said. “Barry’s a big boy, and I’m sure he’ll be able to manage.” Dinah pulled out the Serendipity scarf she’d started and began to crochet.
Our conversation ended as the other Hookers arrived. “I brought one of my daughter’s friends,” Rhoda said. “I’m always talking about the group, and she was interested in seeing what we’re about. And we wanted to see how the crochet clinic idea would work on a real person.”
As I went to introduce myself, I made eye contact, and we both froze. Now I knew her name was Bitsy, and she was the resident of the cul-de-sac who had vented at me.
She looked at the ground, as if she was hoping it would open up and offer her an escape. “I didn’t realize that you were in the crochet group. I’m sorry if I went off at you. Obviously, you have nothing to do with what’s going on in that house. We’re just all overwrought from what she’s doing and what it’s already done to our street.” She turned to Rhoda. “Thanks for bringing me, but I’m afraid I’ve made a very bad impression, and I think I should leave.”
“Stay,” I said. “We all have our moments.”
“Yes, stay,” Sheila said, pushing her hair back from her round face. Her eyes darted from side to side nervously. I hadn’t realized she’d joined us and heard the whole thing. “Take it from one who knows, crochet will help you cope.”
It took a little more coaxing, and Bitsy took a seat. Rhoda handled the introductions as Bitsy apologized again. “We were hoping a family would move in. We do something to celebrate every holiday. I put it together, but the whole cul-de-sac takes part. You can see how having a bunch of strangers wandering around ruins it. And her business has brought bad stuff to our block. We’re all suspicious of each other now, wondering which one of us is behind what happened to Sloan.” She bowed her head. The way she said the name made me think she knew her.
“Then she was a friend of y
ours?” I asked.
“She sold us our house. That’s why I was so surprised that she’d help that woman do something that was so bad for the cul-de-sac. The reason we picked our house was because she pointed out that it was a little community that we could have barbecues with and sing Christmas carols with.” Her expression dimmed. “But I guess she didn’t really care, and she’d do anything for a buck.”
I considered whether I should mention Sloan’s sister, Donna, and how Sloan seemed to be supporting her, but I decided to just let Bitsy talk.
“Sloan did some work for my parents. They use Zoom a lot for their business and wanted to have the right backdrop. Sloan worked in set decoration, so who better? It was all about how it appeared on a screen. I doubt anyone my folks deal with realizes their office is really a bedroom. Sloan set up a pedestal to shoot them at the most flattering angle. She painted the wall behind them a dark blue-gray with white trim, and hung some shelves. She filled one with books she got from somewhere. But the most prominent shelf was filled with awards and trophies. She took anything they had, even my brother’s old T-ball trophies. Anything to fill the space and make it look impressive. And it worked. They get compliments on their ‘office’ all the time.”
Rhoda had taken out a hook and some worsted-weight yarn. Bitsy watched as Rhoda made a knot and started a chain. Then she did the same. She picked up single crochet with ease, but not much enthusiasm.
“I’m good at crafts. I make a lot of the decorations,” she said. “It’s really my husband who’s the most upset. Darwin’s worried about our property value. He might get transferred, and then we’d have to sell.” Her cell began to ring, and she excused herself to answer it. “I’m afraid I have to go. My kids need to be picked up.”
Something was nagging at me as I watched her walk away. I realized that Darwin was the man I’d seen that first day, with the remote-control car. Was he behind the SUV that had chased me around the yard? I wished I’d thought of it before Bitsy took off.
Rhoda took back the hook and yarn and shrugged. “I guess crochet isn’t her thing.”
Adele whirled in and flopped in her chair with a world-weary sigh, but at the same time making sure we all noticed the crocheted tunic she was wearing. It was made of mitered granny squares and was both over the top and stunning at the same time. She went on wailing about the trials of being an internet influencer. “The fans just can’t get enough of The Adele. More, they want more and more. How much do I have to give them before they’re satisfied?” Her late arrival to the group was odd, but then I understood. She hadn’t wanted to be confronted by Bitsy in front of the group.
I urged everyone to work on the scarves so we’d have plenty of samples for the event. Once everyone was working, I took advantage of the peaceful moment to approach Adele about the video of the drone. I was sure that once I showed it to Barry, he’d agree with me. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get her to send it to me, but the first step was to see it again.
I tried being extra friendly, which was a big mistake, and she saw right through it. “What do you want, Pink?” she said as her hook moved the yarn, making a long strand of chain stitches.
“That video you showed me of the drone. Could you send me a copy?”
“What for?” Adele said, eyeing me pointedly. “Oh, I know. You’re probably investigating.” She gave a nod to Dinah. “You two are probably playing your detective act.”
I endured her comments, hoping it would help me get the short scene.
“Sure I could send it to you, but”—she feigned regret—“I deleted it right after we talked.”
Chapter Nineteen
I was thrilled when Dinah suggested a girls’ night. An evening in her She Cave was preferable to being stuck in my bedroom now that Peter and Gabby had returned from their trip to Santa Barbara. I also thought we could work on the Serendipity kits for the event, since it was coming up and most of the yarn was still in bins or bags.
First, I went home to take care of the animals. It was so different when my younger son Samuel was at home. He always automatically took care of them all. Peter was too busy with his wheeling and dealing to even notice their presence except when he wanted them out of the way.
Gabby had remained mostly a shadow. I’d barely spent any time alone with her, and Peter seemed to do the talking for both of them. I didn’t know who she was, what she cared about, etcetera. So, when she came into the kitchen while I was feeding the crew, I seized the moment.
I suggested we have a cup of tea and sit in the yard. By now the heat of the day was past, and the air was soft and a pleasant kind of warm. She agreed and I made a pot of tea, doing the whole routine of warming the pot and then using loose leaf tea. I brought the tea cups and pot out on a tray, and we sat down. She was pretty, I thought, if you liked uptight ambitious types.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you how you take it. Should I get milk and sugar?”
“This is fine,” she said, looking at the amber liquid in her cup. Her tone didn’t match her words, and I went in and got a little pitcher of milk and the sugar bowl. She used both.
I started the conversation the easy way, with a question. “Where’s Peter?”
“He had a meeting at Fox,” she said matter-of-factly. “He should have taken me with him. I have an impressive list of credits. I could have been a showrunner if I hadn’t gone to work with Peter.”
“I’m sure he’ll include you when the time is right. It’s great that he’s trying to put something new together. I know neither of you want to be here.” I left off the other part, that I didn’t want them to be there either.
She stayed mute.
“I should get in touch with your mother. We can start putting together ideas for a baby shower.” I glanced around the patio. “We could have something out here.”
She didn’t even try to hide her eye roll. “Don’t worry about it. Mums has it covered. We’re going to have it at my favorite restaurant on Melrose.” The street was over the hill in L.A. and lined with trendy restaurants and shops. Her tone was icy cold, and I regretted suggesting the tea. It was obvious that she didn’t like me, and I wanted to let her know she was making a mistake. I got along with everybody, even Adele. I was going to be G-ma, or Grand Molly or whatever version of grandmother that I got. I bet it wasn’t going to be at “Mums’s” house when they were looking for some place to drop off Baby Pink. (I was afraid to think what they’d chosen for a name. Everybody wanted something unique these days. What if they named the baby something like Pistachio or even a made-up word like “Maha”?)
She put down her cup and gave me the kind of look that made me feel marginalized and old. “Peter told me that you were some kind of Nancy Drew girl detective.” She rethought her words. “Make that ‘mature woman detective.’ He was joking, wasn’t he?”
Now I was the one keeping silent. What should I do? Lie and keep the peace or stir things up. She needed to know that G-ma was still in the thick of things. “I prefer to think of myself more like Sherlock Holmes.”
* * *
“How did she react?” Dinah asked when I finished recounting the story.
“She looked horrified,” I said, adding a laugh as I remembered how she’d almost dropped her cup. “Then she said she had to go, that she was meeting some people in Santa Monica to network. She asked me if I understood what that meant.”
“Really?” Dinah said, wincing. “She sounds almost as bad as Commander’s daughter.” We were sitting in her She Cave. I’d brought over sub sandwiches, with brownies for dessert, along with a bin of yarn and bags so we could work on the Serendipity kits.
“Enough about her,” Dinah said. “What did you think about what Bitsy said?”
I laughed. “Good idea. We can play our Sherlock Holmes game.” I put down my sandwich that oozed with more mayonnaise and dressing than I would have ever put on a sandwich that I made, which is why I’d given the job to Mark’s Sub Shop. “I hope Commander doesn’t object,�
�� I said.
She nodded. “It’s no problem. He thinks it’s great. Well, as long as we’re just playing the game here and not going out and hunting down clues like we’ve done before.”
“So, then, what do we know?” I began. “Bitsy and Darwin live in the house we named the All-American.” I stopped myself as I thought for a moment. “He could be the one.”
Dinah nodded, remembering him.
I got up and started to pace. “She said the neighbors are suspicious of each other now because they all think that one of them is responsible for the stinky seafood drop and the other vandalism that has ruined the idyllic peace of their cul-de-sac—before Miami has even rented one room. She said Darwin was more upset than she was. And we know he’s into remote-control toys. And I was tormented by a remote-control SUV. How much of a jump is it from remote-control cars to a drone?”
“Sherlock would consider him a likely suspect,” Dinah said. “But how do we find out for sure?” she said with a shrug. She finished her food and was now selecting yarn for the kits and putting them in the bags. “Maybe we should look at it another way. We’ve never considered where they got that garbage. It seemed to be mostly disgusting crab and lobster shells. I guess the why is obvious—the most stink for the buck.”
We both cringed, thinking of the eyes of fish heads and the terrible stench of it all.
“I think it’s safe to deduce that stuff came from a restaurant or market,” I said. “I think I’ll bring that up to Barry.”
By the time I left, we had bagged a lot of yarn, and I had decided to break the rules and contact Barry first.
I knew he’d said he would call me, but what was he going to do, arrest me? I didn’t wait until I got home but called when I was sitting in my car outside Dinah’s.
It occurred to me that he might not even answer the call when he saw my number come up. It rang four times, then five, and I was about to hang up when he answered.
One for the Hooks Page 15