Gone with the Wool (16 page)

“What does he look like?” I saw Dane shrug his shoulders in the darkness. “Like just any regular guy. Five-ten, brown eyes and hair and no discerning features that I know of.”

I told him about the man I'd seen Tag talking to outside the restaurant. Dane nodded.

“Sure, that could have been him.”

“But Tag insists that it had nothing to do with getting squid for the restaurant.”

“What did it have to do with, then?” Dane asked.

“He wouldn't say,” I answered. Dane seemed more excited than he'd been before.

“Good work. All that skulking around sounds like someone who is guilty of something.” He turned to me. “I can't talk to him since I'm barred from the case. But you could,” he said. “Once we have something, we'll find a way to get it to Lieutenant Borgnine.”

I looked out at the green light bobbing in the water. “What am I supposed to do, swim out there?”

“Very funny. We'll figure out a way for you to meet him.” Dane moved closer and nuzzled my neck. “Now that that's done, let's get on to the date part.”

Wednesday morning, the sky was a flat white. Sometimes it was a very bright white, but this bordered on gloomy. I didn't lounge in bed, and Julius seemed surprised when I abruptly threw back the covers, knocking him out of the spot where he'd nestled. I smiled thinking of the date part of Dane's and my evening. It was really sweet the way we'd just huddled together at the end of the earth. He'd said he was sure Lieutenant Borgnine didn't really consider me a suspect and that he was just trying to harass me. I hoped it was true.

I was on my way out the door when Sammy showed up with breakfast for both of us. He seemed disappointed that I wasn't staying. All the stuff his father had said rumbled through my mind, but I kept it to myself.

“I'll give Julius his stink fish,” Sammy said, turning to the cat, who was parading in front of the refrigerator.
Sammy knew the way to Julius's heart and was trying to win him over. Julius started to ignore him but quickly figured out who was the source of the stink fish and went over to do figure eights around Sammy's ankles.

I had breakfast with the group. My eating had been pretty spotty, so I decided the best thing to do was to make the most of the meal. As I went through the cafeteria line, I took a waffle, eggs and fruit. Thinking of the other night, I made a point of looking in the kitchen as I went down the line. As the server handed me my plate of food, I saw a knife block with an empty slot. I remembered that the knife used to stab Rosalie was from the Vista Del Mar kitchen and had probably been on a cheese tray. But what if it hadn't? How easy would it be for someone to slip in and take a knife?

The food server was busy looking at the people coming through for their food. The rest of the staff was occupied with preparing more. Curious, I set down my plate on the metal counter and walked into the kitchen, waiting to see if anyone noticed me. No one stopped me as I went toward the knife block. I had my hand up, ready to see how easy it was to take one, when a voice snapped me to attention.

“Ms. Feldstein. What are you doing in there? Who are you planning to stab this time?” Kevin St. John said. I groaned. Was there a chance that he wasn't going to mention this to Lieutenant Borgnine?

I lost my appetite after that and went back to the table without even picking up my food. Lucinda gave me a worried look. I had already decided not to tell her that I thought Tag's visitor was Hank Hardcastle until I knew what was going on.

After breakfast, Lucinda and most of the retreaters joined a power walk around the grounds. I went ahead to the meeting room, in anticipation of the workshop. I was surprised
to see the number of finished hats sitting on the tables. I congratulated myself on the choice of loom knitting for this retreat. I sat down and picked up my round loom and the tool used to move the loops of yarn. I didn't find working with the loom as meditative as using needles, but it was still relaxing. I wrapped all the pegs and went back and began to slip the bottom loop over the top of each peg. I was quickly realizing that the secret was wrapping the pegs not so tightly that the loops were hard to manipulate, but not so loosely that the loops slipped off the pegs.

I was still working when Wanda, Crystal and the retreaters all came in and gathered around the tables. Lucinda gave me a thumbs-up when she saw what I was doing. Everyone picked up their work, and a bunch of conversations started. I was glad to see that everyone seemed happy working with the looms. I gave myself another pat on my back for making a good choice.

I had taken a seat near the window and, out of the corner of my eye, saw someone lurking on the other side. When I turned, Dane motioned for me to come outside. I did what I could to not disturb things, but my loom went clattering to the floor, and everyone turned to look at me.

I put my hand up in an apologetic gesture and said I'd be right back. Dane had on his off-duty uniform of a hoodie over jeans. He gestured for me to step away from the building to an empty spot.

He took my hand and looked into my eyes with a grin. “Last night and then now. This is a record.” He looked around. “And there's no audience saying what a cute couple we are or a tourist choking on a piece of chicken to ruin our moment,” he teased.

“Is that what this is about? What, next you suggest we
find a doorway and make out?” I said, smiling. I was still keeping him at arm's length, but it was a real challenge. The night before, during the date portion of our meeting, there'd been a lot of electricity going on between us as we sat there on the bench. Eventually, it had erupted into a make-out session that almost boiled over into something more.

“Sounds like a good idea to me,” he said with a wiggle of his eyebrows. Then he got serious. “I know how you can run into Hank Hardcastle. You're taking your group to the natural history museum tomorrow for the play, right?” I nodded. “Hank is going to be there for the ceremony about something they donated to the museum.”

“You mean the pavilion that isn't really even a room? More like a stuffed bear,” I said.

“Oh,” he said with a smile. “Well, I just wanted to give you a heads-up on a chance to ‘run into him.' Maybe you can find a way to start up a conversation. Only don't try any of that pseudo-flirting of yours. It would be inappropriate, since his wife just died, and he might think you have some kind of tic.”

Flirting was definitely not my thing. In the past, Frank had suggested I use it to get information from Dane. It turned out to be more comic relief than seductive moment.

I made a playful swat at Dane, and he added, “And I might get jealous.”

When I went back inside, Wanda and Crystal had taken the long looms and were demonstrating how to make a double knit scarf. I sat at the table, trying to absorb what they were saying while continuing with my hat.

The plan for Wednesday was like a sea day on a cruise. No butterfly outings, just the workshops and the evening activities at Vista Del Mar. I think everyone was glad to be staying on
the grounds after the busy day before. By the afternoon workshop, they had all started working on a scarf and I was a little further on my hat. When the workshop broke up, Sammy and his parents were waiting outside the meeting room.

“Case, I wanted my folks to see you in action.” He pointed to the trail of retreaters walking away. “She's in charge of all this,” he said. They walked into the room and looked at the looms lying on the table, as I explained how this retreat was different from the others I'd put on. Not that they seemed very interested.

“We came here to spend time with both of you,” Estelle said. “But you always seem to be rushing off. Can't we get dinner together? At that place you bake for?”

I was going to beg off, but I saw the pleading look in Sammy's eyes. “I guess my group will be all right without me,” I said. But I quickly added I didn't want to eat at the Blue Door.

“What about here?” Bernard said, looking over the grounds. “I understand that meals come with the accommodations, but you can buy a ticket for one meal.”

Sammy nixed that plan. He didn't give a reason, but I knew that since he actually had a job doing table magic in the dining hall on the weekends, he was afraid someone might bring it up.

We finally agreed to a place on the water in Monterey. I mentioned having to make desserts and muffins afterward. Bernard looked at his son with a troubled expression.

“I don't get it, Sammy. You let her wander the streets at night alone.”

Estelle seemed surprised at the comment. “How do you know she was out in the street alone? Did you go out last night?” she said in a snippy voice.

“What's the difference? You took a sleeping pill and were dead to the world.”

Sammy herded his parents away and said we'd meet back at our place.

*   *   *

Julius watched from a chair as I got ready for my evening with the Glickners. They were in the living room having glasses of wine. Sammy had set them up on a winery tour earlier, and they'd bought some of the wine they'd tasted.

I hoped this dinner would satisfy them and that they would go back to Chicago and leave us all alone. I sighed. Who was I kidding?

The restaurant was near Fisherman's Wharf, and we had a table overlooking the harbor. It was one of those traditional steak and seafood kind of places, and Sammy's parents seemed happy with it. We'd all helped ourselves to the salad bar and were waiting for our entrées. They were discussing their food. Bernard and Estelle were very pleased with the caviar on the salad bar. I was more interested in looking out the window. There was a mass of small boats bopping in the harbor. I saw the green light on the mast of a fishing boat nearby. It was the same kind of light I'd seen on the boat Dane pointed out the night before. Could it be Hank Hardcastle's boat? I watched the activity as men moved on and off the boat, seeming to be getting ready to leave.

“What are you so interested in?” Estelle said, noting that I had moved closer to the window to get a better look.

“It's a long story. I'm curious about a squid fisherman,” I said.

Estelle made a face. “It sounds better to say calamari. Why would you care about a fisherman?”

Sammy answered for me. “Casey has been using what she learned when she worked for the PI firm in Chicago to do a little independent investigating here. That's it, isn't, hon?” Sammy said.

“Independent investigating?” Bernard said, rolling his eyes skyward. “You certainly seem to have trouble settling on something. Your retreats, the baking at night and now you're a detective, too?”

“Variety is the spice of life,” I said with a smile. I was never so glad to see dinner arrive. Thankfully, Bernard and Estelle were very into manners and didn't believe in talking with food in their mouths, so dinner proceeded in silence.

By coffee and dessert, I sensed that Bernard was anxious to get the meal over with. I was right there with him. He waved the server over and asked for the check.

“Nice place,” he said, taking out his credit card. He glanced toward his wife. “Estelle, you look exhausted. I'm sure you can't wait to get back to the room and go to sleep.”

She looked at her husband with an arched eyebrow. “I know what you're planning. You have a problem.” She turned to Sammy and opened her mouth to say something, but Bernard interrupted.

“Why don't the three of you go on outside. I'll just sign the bill and join you.”

Sammy had already gotten the car, and we were waiting when Bernard came out. The drive to my place was silent, and I almost jumped out of Sammy's BMW when we got to my driveway. He backed out and headed on to the heart of town to drop off his parents at the B and B. I got in my yellow Mini Cooper and drove to the Blue Door.

For once I had an uneventful night of baking, and no one came knocking at the door. I left three pumpkin pies and
took the pumpkin muffins around alone. After dropping off the batch at Vista Del Mar, I went home and fell into bed. Julius seemed to notice that I was still in my clothes and gave me a disapproving stare, but when he realized I wasn't going to get up and change, he curled up next to me and we both went to sleep.

“Are you okay?” A voice cut into my dream of monarchs fluttering around and a squid waving its tentacles. I opened one eye and saw that Lucinda and Sammy were standing over me. Julius was asleep next to me, completely ignoring their presence.

“When you didn't show up for breakfast, I got worried,” Lucinda said. “And then when you didn't answer the door, I really got worried.”

“Luckily, I was just leaving the guest house,” Sammy said. “I used the key you gave me.” I'd opened both eyes now and saw that he was holding it up. “Are you sure you're okay?” He gestured downward, and I remembered that I was still in my clothes. “I thought you might have passed out or something. I can give you medical aid if you need it.”

He put his hand out as if he was going to feel my forehead
but instead did some fluttering of his hand. “A penny for your thoughts,” he said, making a coin appear.

He glanced around the room with a guilty look. “I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself. It's been a real strain not doing any magic while my parents are here.”

I sat up, which seemed to reassure them both. The only one unhappy with the move was Julius, since it deposed him of his spot. He gave the three of us a stare with his yellow eyes before jumping off the bed and walking out of the room, swishing his tail with annoyance.

“I'll give him some stink fish on my way out,” Sammy said. “I have a bladder surgery this morning.”

Lucinda watched him go. “I always forget he's a doctor.” I assured her I really was fine and urged her to go back across the street. I promised to join the group soon.

I showered and got dressed and was on my way in no time. People were just heading to morning programs when I got to the Vista Del Mar grounds. I didn't know much about what other groups were holding retreats there that week, but I was guessing at least one of them had to do with insects. Butterfly Week had to be a huge event for them.

I saw a cluster of people beyond the dining hall, at the edge of the grounds. They seemed to be working on something, and I realized it was the tarp-covered thing I'd seen earlier in the week. The brush blocked a lot of the view, and all I could see was a huge rendition of a monarch, with its stained glass coloring hovering at one end. I was sure it was connected to the parade.

I went right for the coffee and tea service when I got to the meeting room, and then I took my spot at the table. They were all working on their projects, and other than Lucinda, nobody seemed to notice I'd just come in.

They didn't want to stop at the appointed time, so we stayed in the meeting room until the lunch bell rang. For once I didn't have to rush off anywhere and stayed through the meal and the afternoon workshop.

There was a lot of excited talk about going back into town for the play. I was more excited about the prospect of finally getting to meet Hank Hardcastle.

*   *   *

After dinner, I directed my group to the driveway in front of the Lodge. The small bus was waiting for us. Lucinda and I sat together in the front. I looked over the seat to make sure everyone was there. “All accounted for,” I said to the driver, and we were on our way.

The bus dropped us off at the natural history museum. The lights were on, and the doors were open. I led my group into the entrance hall, where we joined a crowd. Most of the people headed for the main exhibit hall for the dedication. My group wasn't much interested in this part and went off into the rooms devoted to the monarchs.

The crowd for the dedication was already overflowing into the entryway, but I squeezed into the room, determined to get a good view of Hank Hardcastle.

A woman with a microphone introduced herself as the chief docent. She was dwarfed by the hulking stuffed grizzly bear next to her.

“We are all saddened by what happened to Rosalie Hardcastle. This was supposed to be a happy moment for her. She had particularly wanted to place the plaque during Butterfly Week.” She turned to the giant creature and seemed a little flummoxed. “We don't really have grizzly bears around here, but it's good for the museum to have a broader appeal.” She
looked at the towering bear. “And for any of you concerned, the bear was found already deceased, so it's not like he was sacrificed for an exhibit.” A relieved sound went through the crowd, and then she introduced Hank Hardcastle.

I laughed thinking back to Dane's description of Hank. It sounded like he was describing somebody for a wanted poster. You'd think as a cop, he'd pay more attention to the whole person. Right away I picked up that he wasn't comfortable dressed in slacks and a sport jacket by the way he stood. He tugged at his shirt collar a few times, and I got that wearing a tie was definitely not his thing, either. He had longish hair, but it was slicked back, probably with the help of some men's hairdressing product. I looked at him for a long time, trying to match him up with the man Tag had been talking to. But then I'd only seen his back, and the man had been wearing rubber boots and a Windbreaker and had seemed a whole lot more comfortable in his clothes. Hank thanked the docent for the kind introduction and then turned sideways to gesture toward the bear. I almost gasped out loud. I couldn't be one hundred percent sure he was the man Tag had met, but when I saw his profile I was sure he was the man from the storeroom at Cadbury Yarn.

I looked back at the audience, surveying the crowd until I found Gwen. She was looking right at him with a furrowed brow. I had no idea what that meant.

Hank talked for a few minutes about Rosalie wanting to leave a legacy to the town, and how she'd expected this to be just the beginning of their gifts to the museum. “She had planned to have a whole Hardcastle Pavilion added on to the building in the future.” He looked over the crowd. It seemed like he smiled at a few people, but I couldn't tell who. He held up the plaque. “It was supposed to have both of our names,
but after what happened, I had a new plaque made up saying the bear was in memory of Rosalie Hardcastle.” He bowed his head in respect for a moment.

“You all know I'm a fisherman and not much of a speaker, so that's all I have to say.”

Everyone erupted in applause, and he walked into the crowd. The docents started directing everyone to the multipurpose room. I followed along with them and saw that the room had been set up with rows of folding chairs facing the stage. I saved seats in the front for my group and waved them over when they came in. With them all situated, I went to stand in the back to see where Hank sat.

He took a seat on the end of the back row, and I grabbed the chair next to him. I had hoped to start up a conversation before the play, but the lights dimmed and the curtain opened. Cora and Madeleine Delacorte were standing with the Princess Court. The princesses were now all wearing orange tunics over black leggings. With them all dressed in the same clothes, it was hard to tell one girl from the other. Except Chloe. With hair streaked with orange and heavy makeup, she definitely stood out. Chloe couldn't just go along with the crowd.

The docent who had introduced Hank joined them on the stage and welcomed the crowd to another Butterfly Week tradition. She did the whole number on how it wasn't a beauty contest as much as a competition to be an ambassador for the butterflies.

I saw that Dane had come in but was hanging in the shadow by the doorway. He was in uniform, but I suspected he was there to see his sister.

The docent turned over the microphone to Cora Delacorte, who said she was going to introduce each of the
princesses and give her a chance to say something. As she started through the group, most of them said pretty much the same thing about how lucky Cadbury was that the monarchs had chosen the town and how they viewed their job as protecting the butterflies and taking part in the activities throughout the year. I held my breath when Chloe stood up. She turned to face the crowd.

I couldn't believe it when she said almost exactly the same thing. Then she hesitated. “Forget all that flowery stuff. I really want to be queen, and I think I'd make a good one. Take my word for it, if I'm queen, nobody will mess with the monarchs.” I had never thought about it, but apparently she'd picked up some of the karate moves from her brother. She proceeded to demonstrate her power by doing kicks and jabs. Lieutenant Borgnine had come in now, too, and was standing at the side of the room, glaring at her. She was definitely not doing herself any favors.

I didn't get to see Dane's reaction. When I looked over to where he'd been standing, the spot was empty.

The “play” came next. I'm not sure what I had expected, but certainly not something put on by the elementary school and called
The Flight of the Butterflies
. It was hardly high drama. A bunch of kids wiggled on the ground, pretending to be caterpillars before being wrapped up in blankets. The lights went off, and when they came back on, they had all turned into butterflies. I kind of lost track of it after that, but they seemed to be making plans for the winter, and then the Lord of the Butterflies joined them and said he was going to lead them to their new home.

It ended with the docent inviting everyone to have punch and cookies. When the lights came up, I turned to start up
a conversation with Hank, but he was out of his seat before I could say a word. I saw that Hank was headed toward the door, and I rushed to catch up with him.

I had no idea what I was going to say to Hank, but I hoped I still had the touch from working for Frank.

When I caught up with him, I started with how nice his words about his wife had been. Flattery always opens doors. He was no different.

“I'm not much of a public speaker,” he said. “But thank you.” I quickly added my condolences about Rosalie, though it felt rather strange, since I was hoping that he was the one who killed her, as I was trying to get the spotlight off Chloe and me.

“I wish I had been there,” he said, hanging his head in regret—or maybe to hide his expression. “I could have protected her.”

“So you weren't there for any of the event?” I asked.

“I don't know what you've heard about Rosalie, but she was a special person. That's how I want her remembered.” I wondered what Hank's alibi was and if Lieutenant Borgnine had checked it out. The cop had left by then, so I couldn't even ask him.

Hank was beginning to get that body language that said he was going to leave. I went right to the heart of things. “Were you at the Blue Door the other night?”

He stared at me for a moment and blinked a few times. “What makes you say that?”

“I saw Tag Thornkill talking to someone on the porch of the restaurant, and you resemble the person I saw.”

“Us fishermen all look the same—must have been someone else.” He had an uncomfortable smile.

“What about in the stockroom of Cadbury Yarn?” I asked. The color drained from his face, and he swallowed hard a few times.

Coach Gary without his wings stepped in next to Hank. “Sorry to interrupt, but Hank, I just wanted to say the bear is a great addition to the museum. I'm just sorry Rosalie couldn't be here to see the plaque.” He gave Hank a pat on the back. “C'mon, let's get some of that punch.”

As they walked away, I overheard their conversation.

“Thanks for saving me,” Hank said.

“It looked like she'd cornered you,” Coach Gary said. I couldn't quite hear what Hank said after that. Just the word
trouble
.

Lucinda caught up with me at the punch bowl. Since part of the thing with Hank involved Tag, I couldn't even talk to her about the aborted conversation. I gathered up the group and loaded them on the bus.

“So, how'd you enjoy the play?” I said in a cheerful voice as the bus pulled away from the curb. There was the silence of disapproval, then somebody in the back shouted out, “It wasn't exactly
Annie
.” I made a mental note that if I had a retreat the next year to coincide with Butterfly Week, I would not include the play again.

Even if they weren't that happy with the play, everyone seemed to have enjoyed doing something at night, and they all thanked me as they got off the bus.

“We're having a night-owl session,” Olivia Golden said, gesturing toward the Lodge. “I know you have to do your baking. Bree, Scott and I can handle everything,” she said. Lucinda overheard and said she would be backup, too. Even so, I walked in with them.

I was so grateful for their help. I simply couldn't have
managed without them. I watched for a moment as they moved to the long table and started to gather chairs around it.

As I got ready to leave, Kevin St. John came up to me. “I need to speak to you, Ms. Feldstein.” He went back and forth between calling me Casey and Ms. Feldstein, but using my last name was never a good sign. He'd been so busy with all the extra things going on, he hadn't had much opportunity to give me a hard time, but I had a feeling all that was going to change. There was a smile on his usually placid moon-shaped face. It was the kind that said to me he was looking forward to giving me some bad news.