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Authors: Betty Hechtman

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BOOK: Seams Like Murder
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C
HAPTER
19

“I should have been there,” Dinah said when I finished telling her about the meditation event the night before.

“I was surprised that Sheila didn’t show up. She always comes when there’s something about being calm,” I said. “I’m afraid she’s avoiding things.” We were sitting at the table in the yarn department of the bookstore. It was late afternoon, and it was nice to see that the days were getting longer. “The real test is if she shows up for this meeting.”

We called meetings at this time our Happy Hour. Some people had drinks and snacks to relax; we crocheted. Dinah already had a ball of bulky tan yarn on the table, and she showed me the beginnings of a scarf. “It’s for Commander,” she said.

“Then you have decided to say yes.” I touched the yarn, and it was amazingly soft. When she didn’t answer, I turned
to her. “If you’re making him a scarf, you have to expect that he’ll be around when you finish it.”

Dinah was usually very upbeat, but she put her head down. “I didn’t think about that. Oh dear . . .” She let out a long sigh. “Can we talk about something else? Any news about how Delaney ended up at CeeCee’s?”

I had forgotten to bring a project to work on. Luckily, I had the one I always carried in my purse. I was using purple worsted-weight wool yarn, and for now I was just making a long strip. Eventually I was going to sew the ends together and make it into an infinity scarf. My hook started moving as I began talking. With everything going on, this was the first chance I’d had to evaluate the pieces of news that had come in recently. “Let me see,” I said, mentally going back to the last time Dinah and I had talked. “Did I tell you they still aren’t sure whether her death was an accident, suicide or murder?”

“No,” Dinah said, surprised. “Who told you?” I realized I hadn’t gotten to tell her about Barry’s last visit. I quickly recounted how he’d come by to collect on his favor for getting us out of the clutches of his fellow officers. I even told her the part about him falling asleep.

“I don’t suppose you mentioned that to Mason,” she said, and I shook my head. “Is that all Barry told you?”

“He did begrudgingly tell me that I was right—the cause of death was carbon monoxide poisoning.” As I was talking, other tidbits from the past couple of days popped into my mind. “There’s more. How could it all have slipped past me? It’s about Tony—Rosa said something that makes me think he’s taking advantage of CeeCee’s good heart.” I glanced around to see if there was anyone listening. “And there’s even more. Remember how Tony said he didn’t know Delaney? Well, the teller at the bank told me that Delaney was
very friendly with an actor who had been in a soap and that he’d said she could be an extra in a show he was doing.”

Dinah stopped in mid-stitch. “Wow. It had to have been Tony she was talking to.”

I had a sinking feeling as I thought of something else. “Remember Rosa said that he didn’t want her to take care of cleaning up the guest quarters before we found the body, or when the cops released it.”

“When you put that together with the new information, it doesn’t sound good for him,” Dinah said.

“But it’s mostly based on what other people have said. Maybe there are other explanations. And the teller said Delaney was too friendly with the customers. She had access to a lot of information. Maybe someone realized she knew too much?” I stopped to think for a moment. “Mr. Royal must have dealt with her when he brought in the bookstore’s deposits before I got the job. Plus, he must have known her since she worked at the bookstore for a while.” I took a deep breath and went back to crocheting. “Now that we know she could have come in that back gate, it opens up the possibilities. Babs told me everyone around there knew about the gate. Something about the local kids retrieving balls that had landed in CeeCee’s yard.”

“Did you ask Babs if her son and daughter-in-law are customers of the Bank of Tarzana?”

“You don’t think that they could be involved,” I said, trying to remember what I knew about them.

“Didn’t Babs say her son has his own financial management business?” Dinah said. A long strand of variegated yarn had gotten stuck to the purple yarn I was crocheting with. I went to pull it and stared at the way the colors changed before I dropped it into my bag. When I looked up, I saw that Babs and Adele were walking toward us, and I gestured like
I was zipping my lips as I looked at Dinah. She laughed and nodded in silent agreement.

As soon as they got to the table, Adele opened a crochet magazine and showed Babs things she intended to make for her wedding. “I’m working on my bouquet now.” Adele fished around in her bag and brought out something wrapped in tissue paper. It was some crocheted pink roses. Babs was fascinated.

“I thought you might bring CeeCee,” I said as Babs chose a seat near Adele.

“The poor dear can’t get out of her place. The newspeople are set up in front again and go chasing after anybody who comes out of the house. I suggested she go out through that back gate you found, but she said the police have it roped off now and are looking around. The only good news is that the police are done with the guest quarters and Tony has arranged for that dangerous old vent to be taken care of tomorrow.”

“That’s terrible,” I said. “What about Tony? Is he stuck there, too?”

“CeeCee said he had to go out. Something about getting things together for the web show. I suppose he isn’t as nice as CeeCee and probably just stepped on the gas hard and got through the reporters and paparazzi.”

Eduardo came in just as Babs was finishing. They hadn’t been introduced yet, so I did the honors. I saw her mouth fall open. “Wait until my girlfriend finds out I met you,” she said. He smiled good-naturedly as she gushed, naming the titles of some of the many romance novels of which he’d graced the covers. She knew every product he’d been a spokesperson for, too.

“These days he runs the Crown Apothecary,” Adele said, explaining that it was basically a super-fancy drugstore. I
think Eduardo liked the fuss Babs made over him. She really cranked it up when he took out his crochet work. I had to laugh when she gave up her seat next to Adele and moved into one next to Eduardo. A moment later, she was snapping a selfie of them. “I’m sending it to everyone.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he began working with the fine white thread. “Some people have a cocktail; I make a doily,” he said with a wink. His Irish grandmother had taught him how to crochet when he was a boy, and by now, I imagined he could do it with his eyes closed.

I couldn’t even see the tiny ring of stitches that started off his work, but by the time Rhoda had arrived, there were already multiple lacy rows around it.

“Hi all,” Rhoda said in her New York accent. She seemed like the kind of person who had both feet firmly planted on the ground and could come through anything unfazed, so I was surprised when she appeared a little done in as she set her large tote on the table and took the chair next to Eduardo.

She looked around the table. “Where’s CeeCee?” Babs gave her the same story she’d given us, and Rhoda sighed when she heard that Tony had gone out and left her. “I suppose the show must go on.” She took out a blanket she was working on but also the felted pieces she’d had at the preview the other night. Seeing how the crochet stitches had disappeared into a solid fabric still amazed me.

“I thought I’d show my class a bunch of samples, even though they’re all going to be making a pouch purse,” Rhoda said. Babs admired the array of pieces and went to pick up a purse done in multicolors. Rhoda’s hand intervened. “If you’re sensitive to wool, don’t touch it. We don’t want a replay of the other night.”

“Oh, nothing bothers me,” Babs said.

I looked toward the door. “I hope Sheila comes. I was
thinking maybe we could get her to do an impromptu rehearsal of her class in front of us.” I picked up one of Rhoda’s samples. “I’m glad to see that there are no problems with your class.”

“Actually, there is one little problem,” Rhoda said. “It’s best to use a washing machine to felt things, and I was hoping to take the class to that Laundromat on Victory Boulevard and have everybody felt at once, but the place is never open. I think we’re going to have to do it with pails of hot water here.”

“A Laundromat that’s never open? Sounds like the only thing they’re laundering is money,” Eduardo said.

“Really?” Rhoda said. “So that’s why you think it’s never open?”

“Nah, it was just my lame attempt at making a joke.”

Elise had come in at the end of the conversation. “Laundering money? Do you mean actually washing it?” she said in her chirpy voice. She appeared frazzled as she put down her tote bag and grabbed a chair.

“No, there’s no actual washing of the money,” Eduardo said. “It’s just a front. Nobody knows if the money really comes from people washing their clothes, or something else. But you could launder money through any kind of retail business.” He glanced around the interior of the store. “Even a place like this, or for that matter, the Crown Apothecary.”

It was just like that show Mason had been watching. Now I understood. There was something about deposits under ten thousand dollars being taken without question.

“Is CeeCee coming?” Elise asked as she took out a lap robe she was making to donate to a retirement home. We had talked her into doing it in more colorful yarn than her usual vampire style of black, white and red, but she’d insisted on doing it in half double crochet, or as she called it, fangs.

Babs continued as spokesperson and repeated her story. Elise seemed confused. “Is she staying there because she wants to or is it that the cops won’t let her leave?”

I was thinking that through when Sheila finally showed up. She tried to slip in quietly and take a seat, so I was glad when Rhoda stepped in and suggested the impromptu class. “Just get up in front of us and start talking.”

“I wish it was that easy,” Sheila said. “But every time I start thinking about doing a run-through, all I can think about is finding that woman at CeeCee’s.”

I could certainly sympathize. As Sheila was talking, I was reliving the moment when I’d seen the figure sprawled on the floor. The rust-colored hair and the colorful vest. The vest that had looked somehow familiar. It was driving me crazy that I couldn’t figure out the connection.

“I don’t know how to get past it,” Sheila said, turning to me. Her eyes got round. “What’s wrong, Molly? You look like you saw a ghost.”

“I did, sort of.” I explained seeing the image of Delaney as Sheila was talking. “There was something I noticed and then forgot about.” They all continued working on their projects, looking at me as I reached into my bag and pulled out the length of variegated yarn I had found stuck to my work and held it up. “Something about the vest Delaney was wearing seemed familiar, but I didn’t know why until now. It was made out of this yarn.”

“Okay,” Adele said warily. “What’s your point?” She actually stopped crocheting the pink rose she was working on as she waited for my answer.

“You don’t remember this yarn, do you?” I looked over at the group. Babs seemed to be having trouble with the practice swatch she was working on and had turned to Adele. Eduardo’s fingers kept moving as he gave me a shrug. Rhoda
looked up from putting the felted pieces back in her bag and held up her hands to indicate she didn’t recognize it. Elise just shook her head. Dinah was the only one who actually said no out loud. “Do you remember the yarn exchange we had a while ago?” I asked. Everyone but Babs nodded, though she looked like she wanted to nod to be part of the group.

“Do you remember the yarn I put in?” I got a lot of blank faces, but then Dinah asked to examine the strand I was holding.

“Now I remember it. You loved all the colors but not the kinks in it.” Dinah took the other end of the yarn and pointed out how the yarn was twisted and had bumps. “You said you’d had a hard time crocheting with it and you thought it might work better for knitting.”

Adele got her storm cloud face. “Nonsense, you can crochet with any yarn. It’s the crocheter, not the yarn.”

“So, then you were the one who took it?” I asked. Adele shook her head.

“No. I was just making a comment.”

“The point is,” I said rather sharply to Adele in reference to her earlier question, “Delaney was wearing a vest made out of that yarn.”

“Don’t you mean the same kind of yarn?” Rhoda said.

“No, it had to be that yarn. I bought it at a yarn show. It had been hand spun from the woman’s sheep and then hand painted. I bought the whole stock of it. There is no same kind of yarn.” I looked over the group. “How did Delaney end up with a vest made out of my yarn?”

“I get it, Pink, you want to know who took the yarn in the exchange.” Rhoda looked around at the group. “C’mon people, fess up!” Everybody shook their heads. “Well, there you go. It wasn’t any of us.” Stumped, we all returned to our projects, and I racked my brain to think of a possible explanation.

“Oh look, it’s raining,” Rhoda said, gesturing at the window. Usually it was either dry or we got a deluge, but this time it had kept to a soft rain. “Glad I’m prepared.” Rhoda pulled on her rain jacket and dropped her project into her tote bag. “Got to go home and cook,” she said. There were some jokes about wanting to go to her house for dinner. She rolled her eyes. “Join the crowd,” she said with a tired smile.

“Oh!” Dinah said in surprise when she looked toward the front of the bookstore. Commander Blaine was standing in front of the window, dressed for a flood and holding Dinah’s raincoat and an extra umbrella. It was impossible not to see the love in his eyes when he looked at her. I think she was aware of it, too, because she swallowed hard and then looked away, clearly uncomfortable. My poor friend was having such a hard time accepting a good thing. I still thought that if Commander didn’t get impatient and insist on an answer, there was a good chance she would say yes.

Finally, it was just me and Adele looking out the window as the traffic crawled along Ventura Boulevard. It didn’t rain that much here, but everyone freaked out when it did. Even though it was just twilight, the streetlights came on and reflected in the wet pavement.

BOOK: Seams Like Murder
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ads

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