Behind the Seams (17 page)

“Not yet. I wanted your okay first. But I checked it out for him. The schools are nearby and they have a drama club,” Barry said. Barry was less than thrilled with his son’s aspirations to be an actor, so if he was finding out about the drama club, he was pulling out all the stops.

“What about Jeffrey’s girlfriend?” I asked, and Barry threw up his hands.

“He went on one date,” he said.

“That you know of. You’re gone a lot.”

“He’ll adjust. I’m sure there are plenty of girls around here.” The saleswoman had left us alone to discuss. “So, what do you think?” Barry said as we headed back downstairs.

“I don’t know,” I said with a noncommittal shrug. Barry’s face fell and suddenly I remembered what Dinah had said. “Did you put a deposit on this condo?”

“Of course I didn’t,” he said. We walked outside and stopped on the perfect little street while he tried to qualify me. Was it the particular condo, the development or where it was located that was a problem?

“It’s just not a good time to make such a big change,” I said. “Samuel is still living at my place. And I’m so close to Shedd and Royal and my friends.” He looked so disappointed that I felt terrible. I hugged him to try to smooth things over and then said I’d think about it.

He knew better than to keep talking up the place on the way back. I knew he was really trying to win me over when he didn’t even object to the line of conversation when I asked him if he thought Bob could be a murderer.

“Babe, anybody could be a murderer. But Bob—the big question I’d ask is why.”

Barry said he wanted to finish sanding the unit when we got back to my place. I just picked up my car and went to the bookstore.

As expected, it was quiet. The vendors who’d agreed to take part had left information on what they were going to offer and what they were going to need. We were certainly going to have a variety of chocolate things. Luxe, the lifestyle store where my fellow Hooker Sheila worked, was providing chocolate tea. Caitlin’s Cupcakes was bringing in vampire cupcakes, also called red devil’s food. Trader Joe’s was offering a tasting of single-origin dark chocolate. They all just needed display space. Only Alain Des Plaines needed access to an outlet for his hot plate.

I went to check on the signs around the store. “I can’t believe it,” I said out loud. The graffiti from before was back. I wiped it off again and went to the kids’ area to talk to Adele.

She was sitting at one of the tiny tables crocheting a flower to put on the purse she’d made using Rhoda’s impatient crochet method.

“Adele, the kids were at it again. I found scribbles on the signs.”

“Pink, I handle story time. I’m not the bookstore police. I don’t know what the kids do when they’re not in here.” She gestured around her area. “As you can see, nobody did anything here.” She was right. The only thing that seemed out of place was some red thing that looked like a strawberry sitting on the table. I picked it up and asked her what it was.

“I’m supposed to wear it when I read the Strawberry Patch books. The publisher sent it, but I don’t know. I think it’s a little too much.” She finished the flower and held it against the cream-colored purse. “Wait. It gets better. I’m going to put this in the middle of the flower. She reached in her pocket and emptied her hand on the table. A pink pearl rolled toward me and a small red tube hit the table. I grabbed the pearl just before it fell off. Adele picked up the red thing.

“I didn’t mean to grab this, but as long as I did, you’ve got to see it,” Adele said, pressing something on it and pointing it at the table. A heart with the word
love
in the middle was projected on the dark wood. “It’s a flashlight.” She stared at me until I seemed duly impressed and then she dropped it her bag.

She picked up the pearl and set it in the middle of the flower. With the flower and the pearl, the purse went from ordinary to adorable. It was all in the finishing touches.

I went back to the main part of the bookstore, and a few minutes later, Adele came out and said she was leaving. It looked like it was just going to be me and our cashier, Rayaad, along with the few customers wandering the store. Even the café was slow. Bob was at his computer, probably cooking up an alien battle.

I was surprised when CeeCee and Nell came in the door. Nell pointed toward the back and said she was going to be looking for some yarn. CeeCee joined me.

“Dear, I thought you were going to call us after you talked to Bob,” she said. I apologized and said in all that went on, I’d forgotten about calling.

“There wasn’t much to say anyway. He bought a box of Nature’s Sweetie, but he brought it here.”

CeeCee acknowledged it by sighing. “I was hoping it was him and you’d have it all wrapped up. You have no idea what a trauma this is. Ever since the police did their search, Nell has been a wreck, and she never wants to stay home because she’s afraid the police will come again. She has no friends because everyone she knows works on Barbara’s show and now wants to stay away from her.” CeeCee sighed again. “So, I’m it.” She seemed a little desperate. “You’ve got to get her name cleared so she can get her job back. My show goes back in production in a few weeks, and there might be more press to do for the movie. And my brother still doesn’t know anything. What am I going to say? That he entrusted me with his only daughter, and she’s a suspect in a murder case and has been put on a leave of absence, which seems to me to be a politically correct way to fire her?”

We walked back to the yarn department together. Before Nell could ask, I told her Bob didn’t do it. “Or at least, I don’t think so.”

“But maybe he knows something,” Nell persisted.

“I don’t think so. He just told me Robyn had been looking at his script.”

Nell made a disbelieving
hah
sound and put down the skein of yarn. “Do you really think he would have gone to her funeral just because she looked at his script. Let me talk to him.”

CeeCee and I followed behind as Nell went to the café. I watched her go up to Bob and start talking to him. He responded differently to her than he had to me. I remembered how when I’d hugged him, he’d seemed to have felt awkward. I didn’t think a hug from her would have gotten the same reaction. She flipped her long hair off her shoulder, and his face became animated as he talked. Was he flirting with her? Bob with the puff ball under his chin? D. J. came in while they were talking and set up his computer on one of the tables. Bob started to get up, but the blogoir author gestured for him to stay seated. D. J. got his own cup of today’s brew and left some money on the counter.

Nell seemed like a changed person when she rejoined her aunt and me. The hangdog look had been replaced by some enthusiasm. “I was right. There was more to their relationship. It turns out baristas are like bartenders. People dump their troubles on them. Bob said Robyn was always telling him about stuff. Like how she broke up with her boyfriend and she had some plan for the show. He said she never gave him the details. Just that it was a risk, but she was willing to take it because it could pay off big time for her career and it could settle some kind of score.”

“That must be what Talia Canon was talking about,” I said, remembering overhearing Robyn’s replacement talking about some kind of plan Robyn had that sounded similar. “What else did he say?” I was a little miffed that she seemed to have done a better job interrogating him, but there were extenuating circumstances. She was young and cute and I’d joined the age of the invisible woman. Instead of thinking you looked cute, men just looked through you.

“I think Bob liked her. I mean really liked her,” Nell said. “He seemed to be glad she broke up with her boyfriend. I think he was hoping to be a replacement.” Then Nell sagged a little. “But I think you’re right. There doesn’t seem to be any reason he would have wanted to kill her.”

We went back to the yarn department. Nell started to check through a bin of fancy cotton yarn. Rhoda had used what she called kitchen cotton, but Nell wanted to try something a few steps up. CeeCee sat down in one of the overstuffed chairs. She asked if there were any more of the chocolate samples from the other day. All the things with her niece had left her in need of some medicinal chocolate. I had some samples from Trader Joe’s in the office and got her a hunk of dark chocolate with a hint of orange.

“I feel like I’ve hit a wall,” I said. “The sweetener could have been sent to Robyn by anybody. Who knows if they even bought it at the Crown Apothecary. Other places sell the sweetener. The killer could have just stuck the card with the return address on the shipping box. Nobody knows who her ex-boyfriend is. She had some plan, but what?” I mentioned the crowd Bob said had been at the funeral. “I don’t know who those people are. Suppose one of them is really Robyn’s killer.”

“Maybe if you took a look at her house, you’d find something there,” CeeCee offered, then laughed at herself. “I can’t believe I’m getting involved with solving this case.”

Nell had taken the sample skein and cut off a length to try it.

“Who better than you? You love your niece,” I said as CeeCee and I watched as Nell headed for the table.

CeeCee nodded and took another chocolate sample. Nell sat down and began to make a foundation chain with the black yarn. The impatient crochet had been a godsend to her. It had finally turned her on to crochet. And now the rhythm and repetition were helping her release all her pent-up emotion.

I was surprised to see that Dinah had joined us. “I had a nice talk with Commander. He understands I need girlfriend time. What’s up?” I brought her up to speed and mentioned CeeCee’s suggestion. It seemed to me my friend’s smile dimmed a little even as she was saying it was a good suggestion. Someone else was trying to be my sidekick.

“Nell knows where Robyn’s house is,” CeeCee said. She turned toward her niece. “You said you did the other day.”

She looked up and nodded. “Yes, I had to deliver something there once.”

“OKAY, LADIES,” DINAH SAID MONDAY MORNING when we all met in the café. “Time to go.” We’d all agreed that Sunday night was not a good time to go check out where Robyn had lived. We also agreed that it was best to take Nell’s car. The white Ford Focus blended in better with the surrounding cars. And since Nell knew where we were going, best to let her drive. We all had our coffees and headed out.

Bob was curious where we were all headed as he handed us our drinks. I didn’t want to tell him where we were going and just said we were off on an investigation.

“Wish I could go with,” he said. “You guys always seem to have so much fun, and it would be good research for my script.”

“I thought it was some kind of outer-space thing,” I said.

“Yeah, but investigating is investigating, whether it’s on earth or the planet Zumeria.”

I promised to tell him all about it.

When I saw how close Robyn’s house was to the bookstore, it made sense why she had stopped by the café a lot for coffee. It seemed silly to have driven. The house was all of two blocks from Shedd & Royal. Nell parked her car and gestured across the street to a small light blue stucco house and announced it was Robyn’s.

“Well, not exactly hers,” CeeCee said, pointing at the “For Rent” sign stuck in the front lawn.

“They sure didn’t waste any time,” Dinah added. “Not even a week has gone by since she died.”

Dinah and I got out and Nell and CeeCee stayed in the car. CeeCee was convinced she might be recognized and it would be a distraction, and Nell didn’t want to take a chance of getting herself in more trouble.

I didn’t think there was a name for the style of the house. The closest thing I could think of was
starter house
. In other words, small. The front yard had a small, neatly trimmed lawn, no doubt due to a gardener who was still caring for the yard despite Robyn’s absence. Just before the house, there were a few bushes and some white flowers that contrasted nicely with the blue color of the walls. A driveway ran along the side and ended in a one-car garage.

“Well?” Dinah said as we stood on the sidewalk in front.

“Let’s have a look around. The ‘For Rent’ sign is a perfect cover.” I walked along the front of the house, looking into the windows. Though I couldn’t see details, it was obvious that the house hadn’t been cleared out. Feeling bolder, I went up the driveway toward the back, with Dinah following.

“Hey, there. What are you two doing?” a threatening voice demanded. Dinah and I stopped abruptly and turned. A woman was standing at the edge of the property next door. She held up her cordless phone like it was a weapon. “I’ve got nine-one-one on speed dial. I push one button and the cops are on the way.”

Holding the phone like it was a gun, she backed down the driveway toward the street. It hadn’t registered before, but the garbage cans were lined up against the curb for pick up. Robyn’s were still in the driveway since there was no one to take them out. Still with her eyes locked on us, the woman flipped the lid on her big blue plastic can meant for recyclables. She grunted when she looked inside.

“Okay, you two, where are they? You know scavenging is against the law. I put a whole sack of bottles in my blue can and now they’re gone. Put them back and I’ll let you go.”

It took a moment for me to get what she was talking about. I realized we were standing in front of Robyn’s blue can and she apparently thought we were working the neighborhood.

I held out my hands to show they were empty and Dinah did the same. The woman let out a disappointed grunt and stepped closer to us. She was older, wearing a bright magenta gauze dress and flip-flops. Her blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She looked us over a few more times. “We’ve been having a problem with scavengers going through the recyclables.” She narrowed her eyes and said, if we weren’t after bottles and cans, what were we up to? She waved the phone around for effect, and reminded us about the 911 on speed dial.