One for the Hooks

by Betty Hechtman

  All I could think to say was thank you.

  By afternoon, we’d made as many as I was going to. If we sold half of the ones we had now, it would be a success. I headed to the café to get a another caffeine fix just as Barry came in the front door of the bookstore and looked around. I thought of trying to hide. I felt awkward about what had happened between us last night. And I was sure he was there to tell me that he didn’t require my services anymore.

  But he saw me before I could find a way to disappear. He was dressed in a dark suit and crisp light blue shirt and striped tie. I felt a thud in my stomach as I noted that he wasn’t smiling.

  “We need to talk,” he said.

  “I was going to get a coffee. Join me?” I gestured to the café.

  “Right,” he said in his detective tone.

  Bob was pushing a party drink across the counter to a customer when we walked in. He started to smile at us but picked up on the uneasy vibe and just asked for the order. “I’ll bring it to you,” Bob said, giving me an understanding nod.

  Barry led the way to the round wood table tucked in the corner by the front window. If we kept our voices low, it offered complete privacy, at least as far as sound was concerned. In typical cop fashion, he chose the seat that gave him a view of the whole place, and I took the one that put my back toward the entrance. He wanted to be able to see everything, while I didn’t want anyone to see me.

  “Okay,” I said as soon as we sat down. “I’ll save you the trouble. You don’t want to work with me anymore. I was crazy and unprofessional, and I made you uncomfortable.”

  He listened to me say my piece without a flicker of reaction. Bob showed up with the drinks. He gave Barry a large coffee and pushed the other cup in front of me. “I threw in an extra shot of espresso.” His eyes went sideways to Barry. “It seemed like you needed something extra.”

  Barry waited until Bob was all the way back at the counter before he spoke. “I know you’re probably not going to want to hear this, but you’re wrong.”

  “Huh,” I said, surprised.

  He took a slug of his coffee. “It probably would be better if we didn’t work together anymore, but the problem is, I really need your help on this case. Because, since it seems like someone meant to create a nuisance and the homicide was accidental, the only way we’ll find the guilty party is with your unorthodox methods.” He put his hands over his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I want to know what you found out last night. Did you get a look in any of the yards?”

  “You really mean it?” I said. “I’ve got that and more.”

  “But first let me say something. We can’t meet in your bedroom anymore.”

  “Right,” I said. “Sorry if I made you lose your cool.”

  Barry looked uncomfortable. “I should have handled it better. You were a little crazy, probably from all that adrenalin. I shouldn’t have reacted.”

  I wanted to ask him if the kiss had been all rainbows, sparklers, and rocket ships for him too, but I knew that would be a mistake and kept quiet. “We could talk here,” I said, but he shook his head.

  “I shouldn’t even be talking to you now. You saw how Bob looked at us. It’s hardly anonymous.”

  “Maybe we could talk in your detective car or the Tahoe. There’s all that stuff like the gear shift and drink holders between the seats, keeping us at a respectful distance.”

  “I guess that will have to do,” he said. He glanced toward the entrance, and his face collapsed. “I’m out of here.”

  I looked away for a second, and when I turned back, Barry and his coffee were gone.

  I turned in my seat to survey the whole place and felt my breath catch. Mason was standing by the front counter, talking to Bob.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Mason,” I squealed, getting up from the table and rushing to the front. “What are you doing here?” He was dressed in his fancy law firm work clothes—a perfectly tailored light-colored suit and a silky cotton off-white dress shirt, but no tie.

  “I hope that means you’re glad to see me,” he said. His eyes flicked back toward the table where I’d been sitting. I knew he’d either seen Barry and figured out I’d been sitting with him, or Bob had told him. Barry was certainly right about it not being a good place to meet on the down low.

  “Of course, I’m glad to see you. Just surprised.” To demonstrate how glad I was, I gave him a hug. He put his arms around me and hugged me back. “It was a last-minute change of plans. It’s the same clients. The good news is that it’s finally winding down. There’s the donation the family made to Worthington to set up the croquet program, but I’m sure I can make the judge see there was nothing illegal about it. It was done before their kids were admitted to Worthington. We’re going to show him a film of the entire tournament that we made last weekend.” Mason chuckled. “I needed those mallets to prop my eyes open. It’s not a very exciting sport. But there will be no question that they are legitimate croquet athletes. But I’m not here to talk about lawn sports. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Which was it? Did you see him or did Bob tell you?”

  “How about both?” he said.

  “Do you want to sit?” I asked.

  “Not here. Whatever you have to say, I’d like a better backdrop.”

  “I have a lunch break coming. Just let me get my things and tell Mrs. Shedd I’m actually taking one today and it might go a little long.”

  He was waiting outside when I came through the door. “I want to whisk you away to someplace wonderful, but do you mind if we stop at my place first so I can change?”

  “Sure,” I said as I got into his Mercedes SUV. It was just a short drive to his place from the bookstore. Spike greeted us with wild yipping and followed me into the den while Mason went to change. He gave me a more thorough sniffing than usual. He probably smelled Princess. She was just his size, and I bet he would adore the little puffy white dog.

  Mason returned dressed in jeans and a Hawaiian shirt with a bright floral pattern. “Do you want to talk here?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Location, location, location,” he said with grin. “I’m probably not going to like what I hear. At least let it happen with a nice view.”

  Lunch with Mason was never a fast-food affair. All his buildup was making me nervous, and I wanted to get it out. Though I was still considering exactly what I was going to say. I was on the fence about whether to mention the kiss. He got on the 405 and headed toward the city, doing his usual move of keeping where we were headed a surprise.

  When he got off at Getty Center Drive, the suspense was over. The art museum was perched on the side of a mountain and was as much of a draw as the art work displayed inside. There were courtyards and interesting water installations and a garden that was more unusual than pretty. We went directly to an airy patio that had a high covering to offer shade and a view of the ocean and the planes taking off from LAX. My stomach was in knots by now, and I barely picked at the chopped salad and cheese plate Mason had gotten for us to share.

  “Are you finally ready to hear?” I asked.

  He nodded. Then he put his hand up. “Let me say something first. I know I put pressure on you about running off with me and, well, getting married.” He took a breath. “That’s what I’d like in my heart of hearts, but if that doesn’t work for you …”

  “It is a bit much to deal with,” I said.

  “How about we leave it that you come with me on this trip and we see how it goes?” He chuckled. “Of course, I expect you’ll be so wowed that you’ll be willing to go to the ends of the earth with me. But no pressure.”

  I got it, he was pleading his case with the idea that it would affect what I said about Barry. Mason was all about winning, and I was the prize.

  “That works for me,” I said. I watched a plane take off and fly out over the ocean as it got higher and higher. It was really only a speck from here, but I imagined the view that I’d be seei
ng soon with Mason. I knew that as it kept ascending, it would turn and fly along Catalina, still low enough to pick out Two Harbors and maybe get a glimpse of Avalon before a turn eastward. The trip would be the beginning of something. The real start of “us.”

  “Okay, I’m waiting,” Mason said with a smile.

  “I think you’ve made this into so much more than it is,” I said. “Here’s the big story. I’m working with Barry. Because of the kind of case it is—according to him, someone being in the wrong place at the wrong time rather than being the intended victim, and I was already sort of in the middle of it, and he thought that I might hear useful information. I didn’t say anything to you because Barry asked me to keep it quiet.” I put my hands up. “And that’s it.”

  “There’s only one thing wrong with that story,” Mason said. “If it was so hush-hush, why were you meeting in the café where Bob could pass along that you were there together?”

  That was the reason why Mason got the big bucks as an attorney. He knew the right questions to ask. Right for him, not for me.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you everything. I don’t like keeping anything from you anyway. I just didn’t want to upset you for no reason.”

  “Do I need to get a glass of wine to hear this?” he asked. His tone was light, but there was something in his dark eyes that looked worried.

  “I just want to get it over with. You can get the wine afterward if you want it.” I paused to psych myself up for what I was about to tell him. “Because of everything going on at my house, Barry and I have been meeting in my bedroom.”

  I heard a squeak from Mason, and when I checked his expression, he was doing his best to keep cool. “And, well, there was a moment when we sort of lost it.” I had to take a breath. “It came after I got arrested—really detained since the people who called it in refused to press charges and I used my one phone call to call Barry.” I looked at Mason. “I would have called you, but you were in Kansas. There was all this adrenalin from the whole episode. I was emotional. And—well, there was a kiss. But it didn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. I don’t know if I told you, but he’s seeing someone, an ER nurse, and it sounds like it’s really serious. And we’re not going to meet in my bedroom anymore.” I was talking too fast, a dead giveaway that I was trying to make less of what had happened.

  “Just a kiss?” Mason said, looking intently at my face.

  “Yes. So, now you know. Go get your wine if you need it.”

  He reached over and squeezed my hand. “I should have let you talk sooner. I imagined far worse. Coffee will do,” Mason said, getting up. “By the way, you could have called me. I would have arranged to get you sprung.”

  He came back with cappuccinos for both of us. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, and maybe we can wrap this up quickly. Then you won’t have to meet Barry anymore.”

  “What if it isn’t as it seems?” I said. “I keep thinking that Sloan was the intended victim. I wish I had Adele’s video. Then you’d see what I mean.”

  “Sunshine, it’s gone. Nick Charles would tell you that, from an outside observer’s perspective, the other idea seems more likely,” he said, referring to the fictional detective.

  “It was easy for Nick and Nora Charles. Their cases weren’t real, and I think they were soaked in martinis most of the time.”

  “But sober enough to tell you probably never to depend on The Adele for evidence or anything else. And then they’d go dancing. He’d be in a tuxedo and she in a slinky gown. They’d call each other darling and take the elevator to a set decorator’s idea of what their apartment should look like,” Mason said.

  “Sloan could have been the one to do it, if they’d decided to do a remake,” I said.

  “You’re back to her. She sounds like a really nice person. Why would somebody have a drone chase her?”

  “She had her fingers in a lot of pots, doing similar but different things. She was even designing backdrops for people’s online group meetings.”

  “Why did she do so many different things?” he asked.

  “You know the entertainment business. There were probably a lot of gaps between her set design jobs. Gaps with no pay. She lived relatively modestly. Her house is adorable, but not a mansion. But her sister is in bad health, and she was either supporting her completely or helping her out.”

  “I get it, Nora, dear, you’re saying that she took jobs just for the money.”

  “It gets worse,” I said. I told him how Elise was concerned that money from some sold items was supposed to go into an account and might have made a detour.

  “So, you think that Sloan was on the take? What was the account for?” Mason asked.

  “To furnish the rental rooms. The other person on the account was Miami.”

  “Aha. She could have been upset with Sloan embezzling funds and set up the whole drone attack as revenge.”

  “There’s something missing there, Nick, I said. “She would have needed an accomplice. I was with Miami when it happened.”

  “You have a point, my dear,” Mason said.

  “My head is swimming.”

  “Backstroke or doggy paddle?”

  “That absolutely sounds like something Nick Charles would have said. But seriously, I have to go back to my real life now. There’s an event tomorrow at the bookstore, and I have things to take care of. I really want it to be a big success. It’ll ease my guilt about taking the time off.”

  Mason reached over and put his hand on mine. “The bookstore will survive without you.”

  “But will I survive without the bookstore?”

  “Do you think I’m making you give it up?” he asked. “I’m willing to work with you. Whatever makes you happy.”

  “Really?” I said surprised.

  “Of course. We’ll figure it out.”

  “You know I come with baggage,” I said, thinking of my family and menagerie of pets, with one more than he even knew about.

  “No problem, Nora dear. I’ll call a porter,” he said with a grin.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Before I went back to the bookstore, I stopped in at Luxe, the lifestyle store down the street. “Lifestyle store” was a loose term, but in the case of Luxe it meant it covered the whole spectrum of things for the home and the self. The inventory was always changing and always interesting.

  Sheila had worked her way up to manager of the place, and I’d stopped by to pick up the scarf she’d made that I wanted to include in a display advertising the event. It stood out because it wasn’t in her usual pallet of greens, blues and lavenders. She’d used yellow, a rusty orange, and gold. It was so cheery that I knew it would draw attention.

  She was behind the glass counter, dealing with a customer, and I took the opportunity to check out their offerings. There was a legal bookcase with the glass doors all up. It was for sale and was being used to display Sheila’s pieces. I went from there to a display of fragrant handmade soaps. I picked up a block of lemon yellow wrapped in cellophane. I could already smell the citrusy scent, which instantly reminded me of Barry. For just a second I was back with him in my room, experiencing the sparklers, rainbow, and rocket ship moment. I felt my face grow hot as I dropped the soap like it was a burning coal.

  I was relieved when Sheila finished with the customer and beckoned me over. She knew what I was there for and said she had the scarf in the back.

  “It was fun to try something different,” she said with a shy smile. “It’s been wonderful how people seem to like what I’ve been making. But these colors just spoke to me.”

  While she went to get the sample for me, I looked down at the counter of jewelry and admired a silver cuff set with an oval of rose quartz.

  “Here it is,” she said, holding the scarf up. The colors made me think of a sunrise.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “It will certainly help move the kits when people realize they could make something like this.”

  She saw me admiring the jewel
ry. “Can I take anything out for you? We’d be happy to get it inscribed.” She gestured around the store. “We have some new pieces. She pointed to a lamp with a beautiful glass shade painted an iridescent green. “It’s authentic, signed by Tiffany,” she said.

  “Not today,” I said. I looked at my watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was. I went out to lunch with Mason.” She smiled knowingly. All the Hookers new that lunch with Mason was never a sub sandwich on a park bench.

  As I walked into the bookstore, I realized I should have called Mrs. Shedd to let her know I was delayed. But Mason and I had gotten into playing Nick and Nora on the way home, and I sort of forgot about everything else, which had of course been his plan.

  The bookstore owner was by the door when I came in and gave me a worried look. “It’s okay,” I said, quickly. “Mason took me to the Getty for lunch.”

  “That man knows the best spots,” she said. “I’ll have to remind Joshua about the Getty. It’s the perfect place for us to go next time we want a little getaway.”

  I held out the scarf I’d just picked up. “Sheila made it. Isn’t it beautiful?”

  “It is. If she wants to sell it, I think I’ll buy it for myself,” Mrs. Shedd said with almost a swoon in her voice. “Be sure and put it where everyone can see it.”

  “I will, but all the scarves the group has made are wonderful. Do you want to go over the plans for the event?” I asked.

  “It would help put my mind at ease,” she said. “What are we going to do with the kits if they don’t move?” She let out a little sigh. “You don’t think the yarn has bad vibes after what happened?”

  “Yarn is just yarn, and I really think the kits are stunning, with a broad appeal. The signs are up, and Mr. Royal got the word out on social media. Adele mentioned it a number of times on her vlog. I don’t think anybody is going to fly in from Alaska, but she has a lot of local followers, and they might show up.”

  “I hope we get some benefit out of that frightful thing of hers. Every time I look at her, she’s talking to her phone and calling herself ‘The Adele.’”