“Her brother was odd when I mentioned the Hookers were going to be on TV. It seemed like he didn’t want her to be part of it. But then, I don’t think he wants her to be part of the Hookers at all. He wasn’t very friendly.”
“Did she mention Connie?” Dinah asked.
“No, and I thought about asking about her, but it felt kind of odd, since we don’t know what their relationship is, so I didn’t say anything.” I thought it over for a moment. “What do we know about Connie? I noticed her purse, too. I’d seen one like it at Costco, and it didn’t cost a thousand dollars,” I said with a chuckle. “They dressed differently as well. Marianne’s clothes were kind of plain but looked expensive, and Connie’s didn’t. So, it seems safe to assume the two women weren’t on the same financial level. There was an age difference, too. I suppose they could be friends, even though Connie seemed like she’s only in her late twenties.” I pictured the two women and thought of something else. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Connie handled everything, like giving their information, paying for the yarn and hooks. If you put it all together, it means only one thing.”
“I think I know,” my friend said. “Connie works for Marianne.”
“Exactly the conclusion I came too.” I reached for a cookie and felt something vibrate on my wrist. My Apple Watch was set to vibrate when emails or texts came in and was supposed to get my attention. It didn’t work most of the time, as I was usually too busy to notice. But when the vibration continued, it finally registered that it was a call, and I looked at my wrist.
“It’s Mason,” I said, rummaging in my purse for my phone.
“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding a little frantic. “I’ve been calling everywhere. This is the third time I tried your cell. Remember, you were going to call me when you got home and we were going to make plans?”
I apologized and then quickly told him about my trip to Marianne’s and that I’d gone to Dinah’s afterward. He seemed hurt that I’d gone to my friend’s instead of calling him. He suggested we get together so I could tell him everything in person, but all that adrenaline rushing through my veins had worn me out.
“How about a rain check for tomorrow,” I said. He balked but finally agreed.
“What happened to casual dating?” Dinah said when I got off the phone. “I remember when he said he was just interested in fun with no ties.”
“Human nature. I keep a distance and he wants to be closer. I bet he’d be a lot different if I suddenly got clingy and demanding,” I said with a chuckle. I finished my tea and got up to leave.
Dinah followed me to the door. “So, what are you going to do?” she asked.
I was puzzled for a moment. “You mean about Marianne? I guess nothing. For once, just mind my own business.”
Without even looking at her, I could tell Dinah was rolling her eyes as she said, “Sure.”
Chapter Five
The greeting committee was waiting by my kitchen door when I got home. As soon as the door was open, Cosmo and Felix rushed out into the yard, but I made sure to block Mr. Kitty and Cat. The two dogs began to run around the perimeter of the yard while I went around turning on the lights. Samuel was off somewhere, though he’d left a note saying he’d fed them all and walked Blondie.
The strawberry-blond terrier mix was the only one who was truly mine. The rest of them had come in piecemeal. Cosmo, the black mutt who looked like a mop, had been adopted by Barry Greenberg and his son. We’d been a couple at the time and, due to Barry’s crazy schedule and Jeffrey being a kid who might not always remember he had a dog who needed care, Cosmo had lived at my house from the start. When we broke up, Cosmo had stayed, though the Greenbergs had visitation rights. I’m pretty sure Cosmo knew who really took care of him, but he always played up to them when they came over. Though it was mostly Jeffrey who’d come to visit since the breakup, and as I said, he was a kid, so it wasn’t exactly on a regular schedule.
My son Samuel was in his midtwenties and unsettled. He worked as a barista by day, but his real love was music. He had landed a regular gig at a local restaurant, and he worked as the musical director for my mother’s group, the She La Las. When he’d moved back the first time, he’d brought the two cats. They’d started out with other names but now were known as Cat and Mr. Kitty. I was always at a loss for how to describe Cat’s coloring. It seemed sort of purplish gray, with some faint calico markings. She was a foodie and loved getting table scraps.
Mr. Kitty was a cuddler and seemed more like a dog than Blondie. The black-and-white cat even came when he was called.
Felix had been the last addition. Samuel had moved out and in with his girlfriend, and they’d found the scruffy gray terrier mix somewhere. The relationship hadn’t lasted and Samuel had moved back in, bringing Felix with him. Felix lived up to his breed and was feisty. I’d thought Blonde might pick up some hints from him, but she never had.
I went through the house to coax Blondie out of the chair and brought her to join the others.
I watched the two other dogs play while Blondie wandered around the yard on her own.
I was grateful for the row of mostly redwood trees that grew along the back fence, blocking most of the view of the two-story monster house that had recently been built on the property behind me. The whole area had been part of an orange grove at one time, and there were four trees left from it, though they were beginning to show their age.
I loved my yard and spent a lot of time sitting at the umbrella table, enjoying what felt like my own little park. I didn’t care what my other son, Peter, said; I wasn’t looking to downsize.
I brought all the animals in and then looked around my kitchen, realizing that I’d never had dinner, unless you counted the cookies at Dinah’s. I was starting to think about what I could make when the phone rang.
I grabbed it without looking at the screen to see who was calling, though I was pretty sure I knew who it was. Was there any chance that I’d show up at a crime scene and Barry wouldn’t have a few questions?
“Detective Greenberg,” he said in his cop voice. You would think that after all we’d been through, he’d just say Barry, but he had a whole protocol when it was official business, including a phone call before coming to the door. I’d given up fighting it and accepted that I still felt a flutter when he called.
“I suppose you want to talk to me,” I said before he had a chance to say it. “And I’m guessing it’s now. And you’re probably in front of my house.”
“Yes,” he said, sounding annoyed that I’d said it all before he did.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll open the door.”
I realized he must have been calling from my front porch because he was standing right in front of the door when I opened it. He was neatly dressed in a dark suit and dress shirt. His tie was still pulled tight, but there was the beginning of stubble on his stubborn jaw and shadows under his eyes. Who knew when his day had started, and it still wasn’t over. I knew I wasn’t supposed to care, since we were broken up, and he couldn’t deal with the idea of us being friends, but I couldn’t help feeling concerned.
“I’m sorry it’s so late,” he said, which surprised me. Barry had tunnel vision when he was working and lost all track of time. I was stunned that he even realized it was late.
The dogs had followed me in and stayed with me as I went to the front door. Felix gave Barry a few barks and then a sniff. Cosmo went right up to him and put his paws on Barry’s leg, letting him know he expected a treat.
“Is it okay if I give them something?” he asked. He was so sure of the answer, he barely paused before going to find the treat jar.
I followed him into the kitchen, and it reminded me that I’d been about to pull together something for my dinner. I guessed that Barry probably hadn’t eaten either. When he was working on a case, he turned off his feelings, whether they be hunger, tiredness, or probably any residual feeling he had for me. However, any reference to food cut right through his resolve.
“I was just going to eat something. How about you? Are you hungry?” It was a silly question. I’d never known him to say no.
I watched his benign cop face begin to come undone. “Now that you mention it, food would be good.”
“How about you conduct your official police business while I make something,” I said.
I watched his expression change to frustration. “No, you are not going to do it this time. I’m the one in charge here. I’ll decide when I start the interview.” He seemed flustered. “I haven’t even asked you anything yet, and already you’re trying to turn the tables.”
This wasn’t the first time he’d shown up to question me about a case he was working on. It always turned into a dueling match of who was going to get the most information from the other. He usually managed to give out the least information, but then I usually managed not to give him much in the way of answers either.
“How about some eggs?” Then I looked at him with a sly smile. “Oh, no, did I make that sound like a question?”
He rolled his eyes. “Molly, it’s been a long day. Anything would be fantastic.”
I pulled out the eggs, butter, and odds and ends from the vegetable drawer along with some slices of Swiss cheese. I made omelets, fried up some leftover potatoes with onions, and toasted some pretzel bagels. Barry watched it all and by now was so lost to his hunger, he had a hard time grilling me. Actually, all he asked was how I knew Marianne. The smell of the toasting bagels was getting to me too. Maybe that’s why I went easy on him and just answered with the basics.
“She joined the Tarzana Hookers about three weeks ago and has been coming to our happy-hour gatherings regularly.”
“I can’t believe it. You gave me a straight answer,” he said.
“In gratitude, then, maybe you can tell me what happened. Who died?”
He shook his head. “I should have known it was too easy.” It seemed like he said it more for effect than anything else.
He helped me take the food into the dining room, and we sat down across from each other. The junior detective set my son Peter had given me as a birthday present sat on one of the shelves on the row of bookcases that lined the room. I saw Barry look at the set, and I waited for a comment, but he said nothing.
Something was up. I expected him to at least roll his eyes at the gift, or say something jokey about me using it to solve crimes—probably with an admonishment about not getting involved with the situation at Marianne’s.
But then he began to eat without saying anything other than to comment on how good the food was. It began to make me very nervous. Particularly since he seemed to have something on his mind.
“It’s Connie Richards who died, isn’t it?” I said.
He looked at me with his even cop expression that gave away nothing. Even so, I went on. “What exactly was her relationship to Marianne?”
Barry put his fork down and then blew out his breath. “I’m going to say some things, but first you have to promise that it goes no further. You can’t go telling the Hookers or Mason.” He made a slight snarl when he said Mason’s name.
I suddenly sat up straighter. He was going to tell me something. “Okay,” I said, “My lips will be sealed.”
I did that stupid thing of pretending to lock them and throw away the key. He didn’t smile.
He seemed to be struggling with himself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered, before looking at me directly. “Heather is the lead detective on this case, and she’s made up her mind on what she believes happened.” His shoulders dropped as if in some kind of capitulation. “But it doesn’t feel right to me. Your Hooker friend is already lawyered up, so she’s not going to talk to us.” He looked into my eyes. “But I think you can get her to talk to you.” He didn’t say anything after that as it sunk in what he was asking.
“Really, you’re asking for my help?”
“Yes.” He suddenly looked stern. “But this isn’t you just going off on your own and investigating. You’ll have to tell me everything you find out as soon as you find it out, and I’ll put together the pieces. Okay?”
I was so accustomed to him telling me to stay out of things, it was taking some serious getting used to now that he wanted to me to get into them. But in the past, I’d put together the pieces myself, and this time he just wanted the information.
“I don’t know if I just want to hand everything over to you,” I said.
“You’d be doing a good thing. Helping to get at the truth,” he said. He took a moment to think. “And how about this. We can talk over what you find out.”
“Okay, deal,” I said. “So tell me what you know.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I don’t want to muddy the waters. I think you should start out with a blank page. The first thing you have to do is get her confidence.”
I was speechless. Barry was asking for my help.
“Remember, no one can know that you’re working with me,” he said. “And absolutely nothing to Heather.” He shook his head with concern at the thought of his partner finding out he was questioning her ability.
“Not even Dinah?” I said, and he shot me a stern look.
“No one means no one,” he said.
He started mumbling to himself, questioning if he was making a big mistake. I interrupted his mutterings and told him it would all be fine.
“So, then I call and report what I find out?” I was about to ask him how often I should fill him in.
“No, no phone calls. It has to all be in person.” He glanced around my house. “I’ll come here. It’s probably best if I do it late like this.”
“So, I’ll be working for you, huh? Do I at least get a junior police badge?” I joked, and he cracked a smile.
Chapter Six
The next morning, I took my coffee out onto the patio and let the cats get some outside time while all three dogs wandered around the yard. The air had a sweet smell from the last of the orange blossoms and the hyacinths that had just started to bloom. The night chill was gone and the air felt soft against my skin. I was still in disbelief that Barry had actually asked me to help him. But that didn’t mean I’d wasted any time getting started. I’d already checked all the online news sources trying to find a story about what had happened, since Barry wouldn’t give me even the barest details. I found a small item that showed up on the Tarzana Patch that didn’t list any names but did give a location on the private street, and since Marianne’s house was the only one on the street, it had to be about what had happened at her place. The piece said a woman who worked as a companion had been found dead on the lawn, apparently electrocuted under suspicious circumstances, and the police were investigating.
“And I am, too,” I said as I put my cell phone on the glass table. It seemed like a safe guess that the nameless woman was Connie Richards, and I was pretty sure I’d figured out what it was that Detective Heather was so sure about. She must have decided that Marianne had killed Connie or was somehow responsible. I was glad that Barry didn’t agree.
“Okay, first order of business is to forge a relationship with Marianne,” I said to Mr. Kitty, who’d had enough wandering and had jumped into my lap. “It’s going to be a challenge. She barely said more than hello when she came to happy hour.” The black-and-white cat didn’t seem very concerned.
I picked up my cell phone and clicked on her number, thinking that at least I had an opening. I could offer to bring over her crochet project on my way to work.
After a few rings, I expected her voicemail to kick in, but then I heard her say hello.
“Hi, it’s Molly from the bookstore,” I said in my friendliest voice. I mentioned that I’d found the scarf she was making and could bring it by, acting as if I had no idea that anything had happened at her place.
“That would be very nice,” she said in the same flat tone she always had, and we agreed on the time. It was so strange. Her words suggested that she was happy at the prospect,
but her monotone voice sounded like she didn’t care.
It was much easier finding Marianne’s house the second time, both because it was daylight and because I now knew where the turn for the private road was. How funny that I’d driven by there countless times and never realized there was a house on top of that barren-looking hill. As I drove up the private street this time, I noticed that the wild plants that grew on the hillside were beginning to turn golden now that the winter rains had ended.
I reached the end of the cul-de-sac and went through the gate, which was ajar as it had been the previous night. I hadn’t been able to see the lay of the land in the dark. Now I saw there was a large paved area, which at the moment contained a white van and a Subaru. The house was a one-story white stucco ranch style with a terra-cotta roof. It was definitely old and had classic arched windows on the front and a tiled walkway that led to the entrance.
I parked behind the Subaru and made a point of walking past where the white van was parked. When I peeked around the front of it, I saw the yellow tape blocking the entry to an open area, which for now was covered with a tent. I was sure the tent and the van were both part of the police investigation. It seemed pretty quiet, and for a moment I thought about peeking in, but my good sense kicked in before I made a move.
I continued on to the door and rang the bell. A woman in a gray uniform answered and seemed wary as she looked at me. I held up the crochet work and explained why I was there, which didn’t seem to help.
“I’m not supposed to let anyone in,” the woman said.
“I spoke to Marianne on the phone,” I said, holding my ground. “Go ask her. She’s expecting me.” I gave my name, but the woman wouldn’t leave the door.
I was afraid we were stuck in a standoff, but then Marianne appeared behind her. “What’s going on, Hilda?” she asked of the uniformed woman.
Hooks Can Be Deceiving Page 5