You Better Knot Die (14 page)

The streets around William’s house went by a different name at this time of year. I didn’t know when or how it started, but all the houses in the area went into decoration overload for the holidays. Everyone knew the area as Candy Cane Lane.

I had lots of memories driving through it when Peter and Samuel were young. Everybody turned off their cars’ headlights and crept through the streets with parking lights. I glanced up and down the street. The decorations were in the process of going up in the yards on either side. It seemed to me in the old days it went from right after Thanksgiving to New Years, but over the past years, it seemed to have been funneled down into a few weeks before Christmas until New Years.

Who could blame them? I thought of the congestion on the street. Heaven help anyone who lived in the area and wanted to pull out of their driveway after dark.

“Does Koo Koo know what he got into?” I said to Adele as we pulled into the driveway of William’s house. Next door two men were carrying a giant animatronic Santa into the center of the yard. I watched as they placed it on the lawn and plugged it in. The giant red-clothed figure began to wave and shout “Ho, ho, ho.” Adele let out a loud
harrumph
and told me to follow her. She fished the keys out of her purse, and although she tried to act as if they were hers, the note attached to them said “spare set.”

The house was appealing from the outside, with its white-wood siding and green shutters. She struggled with the lock, one more indication she hadn’t done a lot of coming and going on her own. As much as she tried to give the impression that she and William were on their way to a permanent relationship, I began to wonder if it was mostly in her imagination.

Inside, the house smelled of fresh paint and new carpet. My first impression was of lots of light and very little furniture. I followed Adele down a short hall and through the service porch into the garage.

“Pink, William not only knows about the area, he’s all set with his own decorations,” Adele said as she flipped on the light. I stepped back and almost tripped over a bike. A giant wooden cutout of Koo Koo dressed as Santa was in my face staring back. The trademark giant red shoes showed from underneath the Santa suit. A freestanding toy bag sat next to the figure. I laughed when I saw what was showing out of the top. Apparently William had large mock-ups of all the Koo Koo books made and then positioned so they showed above the bag. Underneath the quiet exterior, William was apparently quite the marketer.

The doorbell rang and Adele said it must be the inspector. She started giving me some speech about how William asking her to handle the city inspector meant he thought of her as more than just a girlfriend. “A girlfriend with a future,” she said, touching the door in a possessive sort of way.

Adele took the inspector into the kitchen and I took the opportunity to look around, curious to see how William lived. The living room did nothing to change my initial impression of him as very orderly and on the austere side.

I wandered toward the bedrooms. The smallest one was completely empty of furniture. There were just three pairs of the giant red shoes. He seemed to be using the next bedroom to sleep in, which was odd since it was clearly not the master bedroom.

I understood why when I got to the master. It was his writing studio. A computer sat in the middle of a glass desk. The walls were covered with framed book covers of his books and some awards he’d gotten, along with reviews. One whole wall was a bookcase. He had an interesting combination of children’s books and reference books. There were books on the history of dentistry, ciphers and codes, and an encyclopedia of animals. He had a whole set of different kinds of dictionaries and even a whole section devoted to myths, angels and fairies. I was surprised to find a copy of
Caught By the Hook
sitting on a table next to a comfortable-looking chair.

A large table sat against the wall. I was just checking out what was on it when Adele stopped in the doorway.

“Pink, you shouldn’t be in here.”

I didn’t move and she glanced around the room from her vantage point as it came out that William had never allowed her in the room. “He calls it his man cave and said it was strictly private. The door is always closed.”

“It was open this time,” I said with a shrug. “It just looks like a workroom to me.” I said, laughing at the man cave name. It was so light and bright, calling it any kind of cave seemed ridiculous.

“You’re right.” She took a tentative step into the room. I guess she went along with the in-for-a-penny-in for-a-pound approach. Once she’d stepped into the room, she must have figured why not check everything out. She went to his desk first and picked up an electronic frame and watched as it flipped through the photos.

“None of me?” she said in a disappointed voice. “He probably just doesn’t have any.” She moved over to the table and did a double take when she saw its contents.

“What’s he doing with crochet hooks and yarn?” she said, touching the selection of hooks and yarn that were scattered across the table. I looked over Adele’s shoulder as she checked out a stack of books.

“This is one of mine,” Adele said, picking up the top book and waving it about. “William asked if he could borrow it for someone at his school.” She looked at the ones underneath. They were instructional volumes and had crochet patterns in them.

“Maybe William took your suggestion and is planning to do a
Koo Koo Crochets
book.”

Adele set the book back down and looked over the things on the table. She seemed concerned when she saw a sheet of green paper on the floor.

“I guess this must have fallen out of the book he borrowed.” She scooped it up and waved the sheet in front of me. It had a drawing of something with squares and lots of notes all over it. “It’s just the notes I made about your neighbor’s afghan. I must have used it as a bookmark.” She appeared flustered—something I’d never seen before. “Did you happen to notice where it was in the book?” When I shrugged helplessly, she took a deep breath and stuck it in the middle. “William is very into details. I don’t want him to figure someone was in here.”

She looked around the room again. “I wonder why he’s being so secretive. I could write the crochet book with him.”

I didn’t want to say that might be the exact reason he was being secretive. I knew what it was like working with Adele. She seemed deep in thought as she moved around the room. She checked out the chair and books next to it. She looked at the bookcase and examined the titles and all of a sudden she screamed. “Pink, I know why he’s being so secretive.”

She had pulled out a book and held it for me to see. It was an old book with a dark worn binding. There was no dust jacket; instead, it had paper plate on the cover. In gothic-looking type was the title—
Vampire Legends
. When I didn’t respond, she yelled at me.

“Don’t you get it, Pink, he’s not writing an instructional book. Vampires and crochet research. William is A. J. Kowalski.” Adele’s excitement bubbled over into her jumping up and down. “It makes sense. He wouldn’t want to write the Anthony books under his own name because then people would expect them to be kids books.” She stopped jumping and put her hand on her hip. “You know people do that. Like Nora Roberts calls herself J. D. Robb when she writes mysteries.”

She grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the room and shut the door behind us. “I’m A. J. Kowalski’s girlfriend,” she said, dropping my hand and letting it sink in. “Pink, we can’t tell anybody.” She said, “wow” a bunch of times and then grabbed my arm. “I have to make him one of those vampire scarves. Thank you, Pink. If you hadn’t been so nosey, I’d never have found out.”

Adele had a way with compliments.

WE WENT BACK TO THE BOOKSTORE. MRS. SHEDD was with a customer, and as soon as they left, her smile faded. I took the opportunity to tell her the latest developments in the Bradley Perkins situation. Mostly I wanted to tell her about the SEC people not knowing who all the investors were. I suggested she might want to let them know she belonged on the list. I couldn’t tell if she planned to or not.

The store was bustling with customers, many of whom seemed as if they needed assistance. Day off or not, I stowed my purse and went to help out. Mrs. Shedd looked over and her eyes softened and she mouthed a thank-you.

There was a lull later in the afternoon and I slipped back to the yarn department. I managed to complete one crocheted swatch. I really got the point of the swatches when I looked at the finished little piece. The ball of yarn was pretty with its shades of blue and purple, but nothing compared to how the yarn looked when it was crocheted. The swatches were going to help sell a lot of yarn—if I ever got them finished.

There was a surge of business in the late afternoon and I went back to waiting on customers. When I finally left I was determined to work on snowflakes all evening to add to the stock. I promised myself I’d only do a couple of rounds on the owl. I loved the sparkling white yarn I’d chosen to use instead of the plain white in the pattern. Our last holiday event before the launch party was coming up and we all agreed the snowflakes needed to be hung by then. I pushed away any thoughts that it might be our last bookstore holiday event altogether. It was too sad to consider.

People always thought of Southern California as being warm in the winter, and maybe compared to the Midwest it was. However, the Valley occasionally got frost in the middle of the night. It wasn’t enough to kill anything but the most fragile of flowers, but the grass and leaves on the orange trees would have bits of ice in the morning. It felt like it was going to be one of those nights when I walked outside. There was a sharpness to the cold and it cut right through my fleece hoodie. The days were almost at their shortest and it had already been dark for so long it felt very late, though it was only seven. Before I turned into my driveway, the car’s headlights washed over the tall gangly figure of Ryder. He was sitting on the curb. His face was illuminated by the bluish glow that came off his video camera as he watched something he’d taped.

I pulled in quickly and hit the brakes, making the car squeak to a stop. I cut the motor and jumped out of the car and marched toward him. Something in the way I was walking must have scared him because he stood up quickly and took a defensive pose. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I had a bit of the crazy-lady thing going by then.

“What’s up, M?” he said.

“I’ll tell you what’s up,” I said, getting so close to him, he stumbled back. “I know you are all focused on your career in journalism or reality TV or being the YouTube king and you probably think the ends justify the means and all that trash talk. But you sneak in my house one more time and throw everything around, and I’m giving you up to the cops.”

“W-what?” he stammered. “Why would I be sneaking in your house?”

“We both know why. You want to scoop everybody and find out who the vampire book author is. You think I know who it is and have the information hidden in my bags of yarn.”

“Wow, do you? Know who it is, I mean?”

“No,” I said firmly.

“You have to believe me. I wasn’t in your house,” he said. “I do want to be a journalist, and I know you have to walk that extra mile to get a story sometimes, but I didn’t. I mean, I wouldn’t—”

My crazy-lady demeanor began to diminish. As much as I didn’t want to believe him, I did begin to think he was telling the truth. But if he wasn’t breaking into my house, who was?

Ryder and I had just about finished conducting our business when Barry’s Tahoe pulled into the driveway and stopped near the street. Barry and his son, Jeffrey, got out. Barry zeroed in on me, and Jeffrey walked up to Ryder.

“Hey, weren’t you Curly in the junior production of
Carousel
?” Ryder said.

Thanks to the floodlight on my garage that illuminated the end of the driveway, I saw Jeffrey’s surprised expression. When Jeffrey nodded with a confident toss of his head, Ryder held out a hand to high-five him. “Hey, man dude, you done good.”

“Man dude?” I said, looking at Ryder.

“I’m trying to start a new phrase. You like it? I want to include it in my next YouTube piece and maybe start a trend.”

“You put stuff on YouTube?” Jeffrey said, impressed.

“All the time, Columbia,” Ryder said. I heard Barry groan. He hated that Jeffrey wanted to be an actor and even more that he’d decided to go by Columbia. What Columbia /Jeffrey said next made Barry choke.

“I think Columbia is too long. I’m considering shortening it to Cgreen,” Jeffrey said. Ryder mulled it over and proclaimed it very contemporary.

“Or you can change it altogether and sound like one of those rappers and go by Ice Berg,” I said. Jeffrey, Ryder and Barry all glared at me.

“Sorry. I should have added an LOL at the end. I was just joking.”

The two boys stepped away and Barry stopped next to me. He was glaring at Ryder. “He’s the guy, isn’t he?”

I tried playing stupid, but that only convinced Barry more that Ryder was the one I thought was breaking into my house. “I think I’ll have a little talk with him.” Barry made a move toward Ryder, but I grabbed his arm.

“I already took care of it and he said it wasn’t him.”

“And you believe him? Wake up and smell the coffee, Molly. People lie. The people I see lie twenty-four, seven unless you know how to get at the truth.” He seemed disappointed when I wouldn’t let him interrogate Ryder. Barry said he’d stopped over to check that his temporary repair to my front door was still secure. There was a delay with getting the new door, he explained.

Samuel’s jeep stopped in front of the house. He got out and crossed the lawn. “Hey,” he said, nodding a greeting to Ryder and Jeffrey. The nod he gave to Barry was only marginally cordial. While Samuel wasn’t as bad as my other son, Peter, there was always a certain level of tension between him and Barry. Peter didn’t like Barry, but with Samuel, it was more about the problem he had with me dating. Dating? That was as out of place as calling Barry a boyfriend. Dating implied Saturday night movie dates followed by a hamburger somewhere. Barry showed up whenever. I usually cooked something, after which he fell asleep sitting on the couch while insisting he wasn’t tired.