One for the Hooks

by Betty Hechtman

  “I had to find a way for my twins to go to Worthington. It went along with the image that we were the perfect family.” She made a face. “I hired a college consultant, but it was a waste of money. The only thing she did was tell me that Worthington had a croquet team. I got in touch with the coach on my own. Lucky for me, she turned out to be a fan and took my word that the twins were croquet champions—as long as we provided photographic proof that they’d been in a championship—and she ‘suggested’ we include a donation to the equipment fund.”

  “So you hired Sloan to create the illusion,” I said.

  “It’s was Mick’s idea to use her,” Merry said. “She created a tournament, set the whole thing up in her backyard. She knew just how to take close-up photos so it appeared a tournament was going on, complete with the twins getting trophies, and then she created a montage to give to the coach. The montage and generous donation we made worked. And they got admittance to Worthington as recruits for the croquet team.” She stopped and took a breath. “The plan was they would claim they sprained their ankles right after school started and would have to quit the team.”

  “Would you listen to what you’re saying?” Mick pleaded.

  She seemed unmoved and went on talking. “It all would have been fine, but Sloan heard that the district attorney was asking questions about the kids who’d gotten admission as croquet athletes, and she lost her cool. I knew she was going to go directly to the DA and presumptively make a deal to save herself and bury us. I saw what happened to those people in that other college admission scandal. Overnight they lost their careers and got jail time. I wasn’t going to let that happen to me,” she said in an angry tone.

  Mick hit his forehead with his hand in frustration and tried to stop her from talking, but she kept on.

  “We had to stop Sloan. I was the one who remembered Sloan was allergic to shellfish, from a lobster boil wrap party for the movie we all worked on. Just smelling them cooking was enough for her to need an epi pen. I was the one who found out all the neighbors were upset about that woman setting her house up for short-term rentals. Mick monkeyed with the sign out in front of her house and put the posters on the street signs. I discovered that one of the neighbors owned a seafood restaurant, but I let Mick do the dirty work of getting the stinky garbage. It was a perfect plan. There were rocks in the bottom of the bag hanging off the drone. On the first pass, the bag hit Sloan in the head, knocking her out, and then the drone flew over her again, and I opened the bag, letting all the shells pour over her. Then I used the drone to keep you away,” Merry said to me. “Before you or anyone could get to her, she’d gone into anaphylactic shock, closing up her throat, and she was dead. Everyone bought that Sloan got hit by accident, and it was just part of a protest against the short-term rentals.” Merry seemed to be almost proud of her accomplishment.

  “It’ll be inadmissible,” Mick said when she finished. “You had no right to come in here.” He glared at Barry. “Where’s your warrant?”

  Barry was totally in his controlled detective mode. “I didn’t need one. I heard a scream and entered to protect the safety of someone inside.” The officers swarmed the couple as he told them both that they were under arrest. Merry let out a protest about being wet, and there was a brief negotiation before Barry agreed to let her change her clothes, with a female officer accompanying her.

  I followed Barry as he checked out the drones on the shelf, noting that a piece of a crab shell was stuck to one of them. Barry marked it as evidence. I understood why there’d been no record of nearby large drones when I saw that they all had plaques showing they were property of Winkle Brothers Studio.

  “Am I free to go?” I asked. Somehow I’d kept my cool this time and stayed rational.

  Barry turned toward me. “The fact you were trespassing seems like a moot point now. But I am going to need a statement from you.” He looked at the tank. “I never did get a look.” He went up the stairs and gazed down in the water before returning to me. “Drones, seafood shells, electric eels—” He shook his head. “What a case.” He went to talk to one of the officers who seemed in charge and came back to me.

  “We can talk in the car.” We went back into the yard and through the open space back into Miami’s yard. “How did you find me?” I asked as I grabbed my purse off the ground where I’d left it.

  He held out his phone. “You pocket-dialed me.” I stared at his phone and remembered that I’d considered calling him and must have left the screen on his number. “I happened to be near the bookstore, and Mrs. Shedd told me about you going back for more yarn. I figured you might be in trouble again. Your car was parked out in front of the Holiday House. I saw your purse by the fence, and then I followed the breadcrumbs. All I heard were muffled sounds from the call until Merry screamed.”

  The side gate from Miami’s yard was open, and as we approached, I saw there was a crowd in the short street. The news van from Channel 3 was there, and Kimberly Wang Diaz was interviewing people. Both the Greenmobile and Barry’s black Crown Victoria were in the middle of it.

  “How do we get out of here?” I said.

  “I got this,” Barry said, his voice full of authority as he grabbed my hand and led the way. As we reached the circus in the street, the reporter stuck her microphone in my face, and I uttered, “No comment.”

  She pointed the microphone at Barry, asking if I was a suspect.

  “No,” he said. “She’s an important witness.” I couldn’t see his face, and I wondered if he’d rolled his eyes as he said it. We got through the crowd, and he opened the passenger door to the Crown Vic for me to get in. “You’ll have to get your car later.”

  He got us out of the crowded cul-de-sac and pulled over to the curb. “I didn’t think to ask. Are you all right? No damages this time, no splinters or eel bites? I have a first aid kit.”

  “Nope, but thanks for asking,” I said.

  “It seems like you kept it together pretty well, but you probably need something after what you’ve been through. You want some coffee while we talk?” I gave him a hearty nod as I felt my inner starch giving way.

  He pulled into the parking lot of a coffee place and went in to get the drinks.

  He came back a few minutes later, beverages in hand. “I got you an extra shot of espresso, and I figured you probably needed a little sugar,” I looked into the carrier, and there were two bright pink cake pops. “It’s the end of the day and it was all they had.”

  Once everything was sorted out, I saw he had taken out a note pad and pen. “Now can we finally get to it? What possessed you to go there?” He looked over at me. “And no games or questions answered with questions this time.”

  “Don’t worry. I don’t have it in me.” I looked over at him. “Your suit has no wrinkles, your shirt is still crisp, even your tie is pulled tight. How do you manage it?”

  “Practice in keeping it all together—the thing that seems to bother you so much—and clothing made out of iron.” He managed a smile.

  I took a moment to eat my cake pop and collect my thoughts. He was right about the sugar. I felt an instant pick-me-up.

  I told him about the bracelet with the allergy warning. “There was no way that it was a coincidence that she was allergic to seafood and that was what the drone dropped.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about that?” he said.

  “I would have, but you got so upset the time I contacted you and told me not to do it again.”

  “Sorry, my bad,” he said. He offered me the second cake pop. “You need this more than I do.”

  “One’s my limit,” I said, pushing it on him. “Once I knew she was the intended victim, I wondered why.” He was staring at the cake pop, probably trying to figure out how to eat it without looking silly. Finally, he pulled it off the stick and popped it in his mouth whole.

  “I thought that it could be because the neighbors blamed her for setting Miami up with the idea of turning the place into a short-term rental
spot, but then something happened.” I stopped and let the suspense build up.

  “Hey, I thought we agreed no games,” he said, feeling around his mouth for pink icing residue.

  “My bad. I guess I can’t help myself,” I said, offering a sheepish smile. “I went by Sloan’s,” I said. Barry’s expression darkened, and I knew what he was thinking. “It wasn’t breaking and entering or sneaking in a window. Sloan’s sister told me where a key was hidden and gave me permission to go inside.” I explained putting the mail on her desk. “I accidentally turned on her computer, and that’s when I saw a montage of photographs. It didn’t make sense at first. I could tell it was Sloan’s backyard, but it appeared to be set up for a croquet match. There were two players in the shots, with a hint of a crowd watching, which was probably photoshopped in. The final shot showed the two players with their trophies and their proud parents.” I left a dramatic pause. “The parents were Merry Riley and Mick Byrd.” I took a sip of the strong coffee drink, which added to the boost the cake pop had given me. “I put it together with something Mason told me.” Even in the semi-darkness, I picked up Barry’s prickly expression at the mention of Mason.

  “He kept coming back to town because the DA was harassing some clients of his. Mason said it was because the DA was upset that his kid didn’t get into Worthington University, but the client’s kid did, and he was looking for some kind of scam like that Varsity Blues scandal that happened before. Some high-profile parents had made their kids out to be athletes to get them into prominent schools. Mason told me his clients were legit, but he couldn’t vouch for the rest of the team. Sloan was a set designer. She designed the perfect setting of a fake croquet championship.”

  “Croquet? Not what I think of when I hear college sports,” he said. “I get it—Riley thought Sloan would talk.”

  “The final piece was when I remembered that one of the book club members made an offhand remark that Merry was a neighbor. I didn’t know at the time that the woman lived in one of the houses on the cul-de-sac. I didn’t put it all together until she said something about a neighbor on the other side of the wild area, and I remembered seeing a bit of chain-link fence near Miami’s fence and put it together with what else I knew.”

  “I think I know the rest,” he said, putting away his notebook.

  “What’s going to happen to them?” I asked.

  “Do you really have to ask, hot shot?” he said.

  “Okay, I guess I know. Their worst nightmare. All the deals Merry had will end. Their kids will be un-admitted to Worthington and will be angry at their parents for ruining their lives, which for once is actually true. And Merry and Mick will be charged with murder. Thanks to Merry’s truth-serum reaction to getting shocked by the fish, I’m guessing they will plead guilty and try to make a deal. Oh, and the coach who accepted their generous gift will probably be replaced.”

  “Sounds right,” he said, starting the engine. “By the way, I did follow up on the Yanas and the drones in their yard. They’re trying to come up with a way to use drones to deliver the bags of seafood to the tables at their restaurant.”

  “Good luck on that,” I said picturing drones crashing into each other and dropping bags of seafood all over the place.

  He pulled up to the curb in front of my house. There were cars in the driveway and out front. I could see people moving around in my living room.

  “Is Peter entertaining again?” he asked.

  “No, it’s all family.”

  We sat for a moment in silence before he finally spoke. “I’ll give it to you that your gut was right about Sloan being the victim.”

  I gasped. “Did you really just say that I was right?”

  “Don’t let it go to your head, though. You broke all kinds of rules. You were supposed to just give me the information, not go poking around on your own. You could have ended up swimming with the eels. It’s lucky I heard that scream.” He glanced toward the front window, where it looked like a party was going on. “You probably want to get in there.”

  “I should. There’s probably chaos. My mother just came back from her tour. Samuel is just finding out that Peter has taken over his room.”

  “Do you need backup?” he asked.

  “Thanks, but I can manage.”

  Well then, I guess we’re done,” he said. “When are you leaving on your grand adventure with Mason?”

  “About that,” I said, “if you’re going to take Cosmo, that’s probably the time to do it.”

  “Right,” he said. “I’ll bring your key.”

  “Right,” I said.

  “It was an experience working with you,” he said. “Good luck in your future endeavors.” It felt so strange and formal, but then what else was there for him to say?

  “Same to you,” I said as I got out of the car.

  Chapter Thirty

  “There you are,” Mason said when I came into my kitchen. I’d made a pit stop in the garage to make sure my shirt was tucked in and there weren’t any ivy leaves stuck anywhere. “I tried calling you and kept getting your voicemail.” He looked over my face with concern. “I was worried.”

  I pulled out my phone and saw that it was still connected to Barry’s, and I clicked it off. Mason and my father were unloading shopping bags of take-out food. I gave my father a welcome-home hug and went into the living room. I was the center of attention just long enough to say hello. Peter and Samuel went back to talking about something, probably negotiating rooms. My mother and the other two members of her singing group had moved some of the furniture and were already practicing some new dance moves.

  The animals were probably hiding from the commotion, in my room.

  “You look a little frazzled,” Mason said when I went back into the kitchen to help with the food. “Want to tell me about your day.”

  “A little frazzled,” I repeated with a laugh. “Let me explain.” I gave him a short version of the whole story. “But I never would have figured it out if you hadn’t told me about your clients.”

  “We’re a good team,” he said. “Eels?” He shook his head with disbelief. “Nobody can say you don’t have an interesting life. I’m glad you got it all tied up, and now you’re free to go off. I settled in as he wrapped his arms around me in a warm hug. “It sounds like you’re finished dealing with Barry too.” There was just the slightest question in his voice.

  “He’s going to pick up Cosmo and drop off his key before we leave,” I said. I was doing my best to sound cheerful about it, but the truth was I hated to give up Cosmo. I loved how he looked so much like a little black mop that it was hard to tell which end was which. He’d been the cuddler that Blondie had never been. I thought of how he slept next to me with his feet in the air.

  Mason seemed to be reading my mind. “I’m sure they’ll give him a good home, and he is Barry and Jeffrey’s dog. I know he was the one who slept next to you. But now you’ll have me.” He chuckled at his comment. “Sorry, you bring out the corny in me.”

  Mason took me to get my car before we went back into the kitchen to deal with the food. I was surprised to see Peter talking to Gabby in the yard, but she seemed to be on her way out. Later Peter told me she’d just come to pick something up, but she’d been friendly, so maybe there was hope. I was going to leave it to him to tell the family about their relationship and his impending fatherhood.

  Mason helped me set the food up buffet style in the dining room. Everybody served themselves and spread out around the living room and den to eat. I said nothing about my day or the solution to Sloan’s murder.

  I thought I was home free, but somebody turned on the eleven o’clock news. Kimberly Wang Diaz was doing a remote report in front of Merry and Mick’s house. Samuel looked at the screen. “That’s just a few blocks from here,” he said. When the newscaster went to an earlier tape as she tried to explain what had happened, I heard Peter groan.

  “Isn’t that you?” he said accusingly. “And not that detective again. What ha
ve you done now?”

  I had no choice but to tell them. They all listened in silence as I told the whole story, including that I’d been helping Barry with the case. There were groans all around except for Mason and Samuel, who both gave me a thumbs-up.

  Peter started to fuss at me, but then it got through to him who the guilty party was, and I heard him let out a “Whew. Lucky they didn’t take the deal with me.”

  My mother pulled me aside. “You were playing detective again,” she said with a discouraging shake of her head. “I thought you were done with all that. And with that cop.”

  “He has a name,” I said.

  “Okay, I thought you were done with Barry,” my mother said, doing her best to make his name sound odious. “Mason told us that you’re going to be away for a week and that you’re working with him. He implied there might me something more.” She looked at me for a comment.

  “Nothing to talk about now,” I said, walking away.

  Mason helped me clear up, and then I walked him to his car. “I bet going off to Topeka with me is looking pretty good about now. Just you and me in a mini suite with a view of Pizza Joe’s,” Mason said.

  “Sounds good to me. I’m really looking forward to that microwave popcorn you promised.”

  “And just think, we won’t be saying goodbye anymore. It will be good night instead,” he said, taking me in his arms and giving me a kiss I felt down to my toes.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  As it was the last day before I left, I’d hoped for a regular Monday at the bookstore, but of course it wasn’t. The news about Merry Riley, the croquet scandal, and the eel attack that had temporarily left her unable to tell a lie was already everywhere.

  Before we’d even gotten our drinks, Dinah was grilling me about it when we met for coffee. “I feel so left out of this one,” she said as we went to let Bob know we wanted our regulars. “But I guess this time Barry was your sidekick.”

  I laughed. “I’m sure he’d see it the other way around.”