Hooks Can Be Deceiving

by Betty Hechtman

  I made some coffee for us, and we went into the living room. Dinah sat on the couch and looked around at the large, airy room. “Ah, it’s so peaceful here, I may never leave.” I knew she was joking, but I said she was welcome to stay forever if she wanted to.

  “Dr. Watson back on duty,” she said, doing her mock salute again. “Does Barry know about the phone call and radio?”

  “No,” I said with a guilty shake of my head. “If he knew I was getting threats, he’d pull the plug on my helping him.”

  “How about withholding information? Are you telling him everything you know?”

  I leaned back against the couch. “Dr. Watson, you caught me. I haven’t not told him anything yet, except maybe about the phone call and radio, but after this afternoon I was considering not telling him something else.”

  “But you will tell me, right?” Dinah said.

  “Of course,” I said, and proceeded to tell her about what I’d found out from Missy Z. I kept my promise and didn’t divulge her real identity, but Dinah didn’t seem that interested anyway. “At least now I know why Marianne is on the heavy drugs and that it hasn’t been for that long a time.”

  I told Dinah about Marianne’s job situation and the breakup. “It’s too bad she got worse after she came back from a trip up north. But then I guess everything that happened just caught up with her.” I digressed and told her about the town and that it had sounded so nice that Mason and I were planning a trip up there.

  “There was some other startling news. Guess who has a copy of the The Grass Is Always Greener?”

  “Marianne?” she said, surprised, and I nodded.

  We were interrupted by my doorbell and then insistent knocking. The dogs went crazy at the sound and charged to the door with me right behind. I checked the peephole and saw Commander on the front porch. He was fidgeting from side to side and seemed upset. I opened the door.

  “I need to see Dinah,” he said, barely giving me a chance to invite him in. He went right into the living room. “Why did you leave without a word?” he said to her.

  “There was nothing to say. I was an outsider in my own home,” Dinah said as she stood up and faced him.

  It seemed like a good time to retire to my crochet room. I told Commander there was coffee in the kitchen and to help himself. I went into the small bedroom with Cosmo and Felix at my feet. When we were all inside, I shut the door. I suddenly completely understood the concept of being an outsider in one’s own house.

  I heard the phone ringing in the other room. Commander and Dinah were still talking when I came out. I didn’t hear words, just the tone, and it sounded like they were discussing rather than fighting.

  I clicked on the cordless and said hello.

  “It’s Detective Greenberg,” Barry said, in his teasing tone again. “I see cars out front. Are you having a party?” he asked.

  “Hardly. Are you here for the information drop?”

  “It depends. Who’s there?” When I told him it was Dinah and Commander, he started to beg off. “If Dinah sees me coming over again, she’s going to know something’s up.”

  I considered if I should tell him that she’d already figured it out, but Barry being Barry, no matter how much I insisted she wouldn’t tell anyone, it would be the end of our nighttime meetings and I’d be off the case. “They’re in the midst of some serious negotiations,” I said. “I doubt they’d even notice you come in. If you don’t mind talking in the room with all my yarn.” I heard him chuckle and then agree.

  There was a pocket door that led from the hall to the entrance way. I was able to answer the door without Dinah and Commander even noticing. Barry followed me back to the former bedroom with the dogs at his feet. I sent him on in and got him some treats to give the dogs. I took a quick glance into the living room as I slipped into the kitchen. Commander and Dinah were huddled in conversation, and they didn’t even look up. While I was there gathering the treats, I grabbed some snacks and a couple of bottles of sparking water and then slipped past the doorway to the entrance hall and living room beyond.

  “I brought treats,” I said as I began to unload my pockets. Barry took the dog treats and handed them out. He laughed when I handed him his snacks and sparkling water.

  “Aren’t you the hostess with the mostest?” he said, accepting my offering.

  The room was like a mini den, with a comfortable chair and a love seat that folded out into a bed. I had turned the bookcases into yarn receptacles, and there was a plastic bin that held my works in progress. I had thinned out the yarn supply recently, and it looked like a regular room again instead of a yarn warehouse. The dogs were already on the love seat, and I suggested Barry join them while I took the chair.

  He looked around for a place to put down the bottle and bag of snacks. I kept a folding table in there and handed it to him. He unfolded it with one hand, and we put both of our bottles on it.

  “So?” he said. “What have you got to tell me?”

  “Have you ever heard of a movie called The Grass Is Always Greener?”

  “Oh, no, you’re doing the question thing again. Anyway, you asked me about it before.” He gave me a disparaging look. “Why does it matter if I’ve heard of it or not?” he asked, then added, “See, I can play that game, too.”

  “I wasn’t trying to give you a hard time. We’re supposed to be on the same side, right?”

  He choked out a yes.

  “It’s just a figure of speech. When you’re about to talk about something, you ask if the person has ever heard of it first.”

  Barry seemed surprised when what I said didn’t end with a question. “Okay, I apologize for assuming you were doing what you usually do when you talk to me. No, I’ve never heard of the movie. Were you going to offer a movie review, or does it have something to do with the case?” He saw my eyes flare at his question. “Hey, it’s okay for me to ask questions. It’s my business,” he said.

  He noticed one of the small blankets I’d made and picked it up, unfolding it. It was basically a big granny square with blocks in shades of rust and burnt orange with rows of black separating them. “Very nice,” he said, holding it out. He glanced around the room at the rack of scarves and a stack of works in progress. I was not one of those straight-through-to-the-finish people. I’d work on something for a while, then set it aside and move on to something else. I’d never really given Barry anything I’d made.

  “Take it, it’s yours,” I said. He seemed hesitant but then accepted it.

  “Really? You’re sure?” I nodded, and he folded it up and put it next to him. “It will be nice to have some color at my place,” he said. “Now back to why I’m here. You were going to tell me about a movie.”

  “First of all, it does have to do with the case,” I said. Then I told him about the boombox setup and the sprinklers coming on. His expression went from smirk to keen interest.

  “Guess who was in the movie?” I said, and Barry began to shake his head again.

  “Just tell me.”

  “Okay, it was Rory Graham. She played the heiress who got electrocuted.”

  I realized my information giving had been rather disorderly, and I reminded him of the connection between Connie Richards and Rory.

  “Right,” he said, nodding. I added that Rory had intimated that Connie might have information on her that she didn’t care to have made public.

  “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  I bit my lip, wondering about bringing up what I’d learned about Marianne. I was concerned that if I said anything about her, he might decide that Detective Heather was right and Marianne was responsible for Connie’s death. I decided to keep it to myself until I was sure what it meant. Besides, she’d never talk to him directly. It would all be through her lawyer. And then there was the matter of the fake rat in the trap sitting in the box on the table in the backyard. I wasn’t about to tell him about that either.

  “No, it’s ten-four for now.” I smiled and he ro
lled his eyes.

  He finished off the bottle of sparkling water and crumpled the snack bag before getting up. “It’s been a pleasure as usual,” he said with a smirky smile. “Thanks for the blanket.” He looked at the door. “Do you want to see if the coast is clear?”

  I opened the door and slipped down the hall. The couch was empty except for the sleeping cats. Commander and Dinah must have worked things out. I called to Barry that there was no one to hide from anymore, and he came out of the room. He went through the pocket door to the entrance hall.

  He stopped for a moment and glanced back toward the living room. “There’s never a dull moment around here,” he said. Then he left. No handshake this time.

  When I was finally alone, I thought back over the warnings. The radio had clearly been a threat, and the same seemed true of the toy in the trap. I wondered about the phone call.

  The breathing was so creepy, I hesitated to listen to it again while I was alone, but finally I got up the nerve to do it. A mechanical voice stated the date and time, and then the breathing began. I wanted to shut it off after the first couple of moments, but I forced myself to stay on for the whole minute or so of it. It was like having Darth Vader breathing in my ear, and I pulled the phone away toward the end, preparing to hang up, but I heard something at the very end and sensed there was some noise in the background. I hit replay and it began again. This time I ignored the breathing sound and concentrated on the noise in the background. I had to play it again to be sure. There was no doubt this time, and suddenly I knew where the call had come from.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Now that I knew for sure that the breathing hadn’t been an angry telemarketer, I didn’t know what my next move was, and in the meantime, life had to go on.

  The lull in business at the bookstore was over by Monday. The romance readers met in the afternoon. They always got dressed up for their meeting, and Bob brought in tea and finger sandwiches. No surprise, this month they were discussing Missy Z’s book. I overheard a number of them talking about who they thought she really was, from a poor Russian princess to someone who had been on one of the Real Housewives shows. I’m afraid they would have been very disappointed to know that she was a rather plain former preschool teacher.

  Dinah and I played phone tag during the day, and I still had no idea how things had worked out with Commander. I hoped she’d come to happy hour and fill me in. We were getting closer to the taping of Creating With Crochet, and I replaced the signs around the bookstore advertising Missy Z’s appearance with notices about the Make-and-Take.

  I was still worried about Rory’s crochet skills, and time was running out. I pulled CeeCee aside when she came in and told her what the producer had said about having a camera on Rory’s hands during the taping.

  “Oh, dear,” CeeCee said, rolling her eyes. “What a mess. She’s all flash with no substance. Honestly, can you picture her playing Lady Macbeth? She’d probably add a Dance Break in the middle of the play.”

  She took out the small afghan she was working on. It was the same pattern as the one I’d given to Barry. And the same one Elise was using for the afghans she was sticking in her open houses, hoping to at least sell the afghans even if she couldn’t move the property. It was a perfect kind of project to work on to relax. It was repetitive but, because of the change of colors, not boring.

  “I think we’re going to have to go through with the plan to confront her and make her understand she isn’t going to be able to fake her way through this. The idea of her being the host of a crochet show is an absolute slap to the craft.” CeeCee caught herself and laughed. “Oh, dear, I’m beginning to sound like Adele.”

  “Are you talking about Rory?” Rhoda asked, joining us. “She still doesn’t seem to be taking it very seriously.”

  I added my agreement about talking to her and wondered if I should add that I thought of her as a suspect in Connie’s murder. But other than the time Marianne had come to happy hour with her sister-in-law, there hadn’t been much conversation about what had happened to Connie. I think they all felt uncomfortable talking about it once Marianne started bringing her new companion.

  Elise came in excited, and Rhoda asked her if she’d sold a house. “No, but the afghans are selling as fast as I can make them.” She sat down and pulled out the one she was working on, and her hook started to fly.

  Sheila and Eduardo came in together, talking about the world of retail. Mostly it seemed to be about dealing with customers.

  I kept looking to the front for Dinah. Marianne came across the store with Janine in tow. Marianne greeted everyone and took a seat. When she saw everyone was working on their projects, she pulled out the wobbly scarf.

  Adele came out of the kids’ department, looked at the seat on the end, and seemed unsure about taking it. I noticed a copy of The Hot Zone sticking out of her tote bag, and everyone else did, too. Questions started flying about the book signing and the book. Was it as hot as everyone said?

  I was surprised when Marianne spoke up. “I really liked it.”

  She suddenly had the whole table’s attention, not so much for what she’d said but because she’d spoken at all. I knew how much she liked being part of the group. I really hoped she was as she seemed.

  She spoke slowly and deliberately, and they all listened patiently, nodding to show they were listening. She seemed frustrated after a few moments. She kept swallowing and putting her lips together, and I realized she didn’t have any sparkling water. I suggested Janine get her some.

  CeeCee brought up the idea of confronting Rory when and if she showed up. “Maybe if we all band together and say something to her, she’ll get it.”

  “You mean like an intervention?” Eduardo asked. When CeeCee nodded, he sat back. “I see the sense in it, but I think I’ll let you handle it.”

  Dinah rushed in as we were talking about how to handle the lecture. I looked at my friend with a big question in my eyes, and she mouthed, “Later.”

  “It might have been an exercise in futility,” Rhoda said, pointing out that Rory’s chair was still empty and there was no sign of her.

  Suddenly Adele got in the middle of it and started defending Rory. I’d wondered why she’d been so quiet before, and then I’d seen she was reading The Hot Zone under the table. I’d given her a dirty look, and she had shut the book and put it away. After Mother Humphries’s outburst at the book event, I guessed she couldn’t read it at home.

  Finally, Rory came into Shedd & Royal like a gust of wind. She buzzed around the people in line to pay for their purchases, doing her Dance Break thing. She seemed to have added on to it and was now holding up her arms and knocking hips with our patrons. She stopped to sign a few autographs and take some selfies. I saw her point toward us, and she did a last jiggle of her hips and came across the bookstore seeming in good spirits.

  When she got to the table, she saw that everyone was looking at her with a serious expression. “What’s going on? You’re all staring at me like I’m naked or something.”

  Janine arrived with the sparkling water and opened the bottle with a whoosh. Marianne quickly took a large swallow and then turned her attention back to Rory.

  “We’re her to help you,” CeeCee said. “You don’t seem to be taking crochet seriously at all. Can you even make a length of chain stitches?” our leader asked.

  “Who tied your underwear in a knot?” Rory said. “I’m the host of the show. They’re not really expecting me to work with yarn.” She saw we were all still staring at her, and she picked up a hook and some yarn. She made a slip knot and, with Adele’s coaching, made a couple of chain stitches. One stitch was ridiculously big and the next one so tight she couldn’t pull the yarn through it. She slapped it on the table. “There, are you satisfied?”

  We all said no in unison, which surprised her.

  I stepped in and reminded her of what Michael had said. “They’re planning to have a close-up on your hands during the Make-and-Take.” />
  Rory looked at Adele and started to say something about a crochet double, but I shook my head. “He’s not going to fall for it.” And I told her why it wouldn’t work.

  Now that she was cornered, she put her head in her hands. “I thought I had it all under control,” she muttered. Then she broke down and began to cry. “You have no idea what I’m up against. I can’t explain, but everything is falling on me. I pushed to get the hosting job and said whatever I had to.”

  “None of that is going to mean anything if you can’t crochet. They’ll fire you and then you’ll let everyone down, your kids and all of us,” Rhoda said. Adele started to protest, saying she could crochet something and hand it to Rory like she did in the rehearsal.

  “That’s not going to work,” I said, reminding her that they were going to have a close-up of her hands.

  “I can’t lose this job,” Rory wailed. “I can’t let it happen. “What do I do?”

  “It’s easy. Stop fooling around and learn how to crochet,” CeeCee said.

  “I would if I could. I’ve tried, but I always mess up.” She picked up the hook and then shifted it to her other hand before trying to do another chain. As I watched her struggle, I suddenly knew what was wrong.

  “You’re left-handed, aren’t you?” I said. She gave me an odd look and nodded. I turned to the others. “We’ve been teaching her how to crochet with her right hand. No wonder she can’t manage it.”

  We all focused on Adele, who was looking down, pretending to be engrossed in her crochet. She felt our eyes on her and finally raised her head. “I get it. You all think it’s my fault.” She started to get a defiant look and I was expecting a barrage of excuses, but then her expression changed to what I could only think of as guilty. “I guess I should have noticed it, but she never said anything.”

  “The important question is, can anyone teach her how to crochet with her left hand?” CeeCee said to the group.