“Lawson was murdered the other night,” Mom said candidly. “His throat was sliced with the broken edge of a wine bottle.”
Shandi cringed at the picture Mom had painted and I was glad to see it. Who did she think she was, coming in here and making demands? This wasn’t a Hollywood soundstage. How dare she try to throw her weight around and diss my mother!
“Do they have a suspect yet?” she asked.
“Maybe,” was all Mom would say.
“Everyone’s a suspect,” Winston said.
Shandi looked horrified. “Are we all suspects?”
“Did you know Lawson?” Jan asked.
“Yes.”
He grinned. “Then chances are, you’re a suspect.”
“Don’t be rude to Shandi,” Ryan said.
“Hey, kid,” Jan said. “I’m just telling it like it is.”
Shandi gave an amused smile. “Ryan’s my protector. He’ll beat you up if you’re mean to me. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.”
“Yeah, we got that,” I muttered.
Shandi whirled around and stared at me. “Who are you?”
“Nobody.”
“Shandi, this is Brooklyn Wainwright,” Ryan said. “She’s London’s sister.”
She scanned me—with her good right eye—from my toes to the top of my head. Was she trying to intimidate me? Or was that just how she got to know people?
“So that makes you China’s sister, too.”
I nodded. “That’s right.”
“You have two very talented sisters,” she said, almost grudgingly, and shook my hand. That’s when I realized that the woman might’ve been fifty years old, but her grip was solid and I could tell that she was strong.
“Thanks. I think so, too.”
Mom took a step forward. “Brooklyn’s also very talented. She’s a bookbinder.”
“Ah.” Shandi seemed to be considering this information. “Do you know anything about a book Lawson was holding for me?”
I caught a glimpse of Clyde. He looked suddenly panic-stricken and I took the hint. I gazed back at Shandi and said, “I don’t know anything about any of Lawson’s books. Sorry.”
“Too bad. It’s supposed to be a beauty.”
It would be when I was finished with it, I thought. “Do you collect books?”
“Not really.” She waved one hand regally. “This one sounded interesting though, because it’s Little Women and that’s the musical we’re doing. Lawson told me about it and said he’d sell it to me.” She shrugged. “I thought it would be a fun takeaway.”
“That’s a nice idea,” I said. A ten-thousand-dollar takeaway?
If she was trying to raise money for a Hollywood comeback, would she really pay ten thousand dollars for an old copy of Little Women?
“Yeah.” She ambled toward the door. “Well, see you all at the festival.”
“See you, Shandi,” Saffron said, and it was the first time I’d heard her sound happy.
Were they friends? I didn’t believe it. What an odd woman Shandi was. She had swept in furious, then left as if she were the queen.
As soon as Shandi left, someone else walked into the room.
“Robson!” I said, completely shocked to see him.
“Hello, gracious,” he said, taking both of my hands in his and squeezing lightly. “It is so good to see you.”
“It’s wonderful to see you.”
“Are you working with your mother?”
“Not really working. I just like spending time with her.”
“That is a lovely thing to hear.” He turned to Derek and the two men shook hands. “And you will stay close by Brooklyn and her mother?”
“Absolutely,” Derek said quietly.
I was amazed as always that Robson had his finger on the pulse of everything that occurred in Dharma, from the major losses of life down to the smallest disruptions.
Robson nodded his approval and smiled at Derek. “I am glad to see your mother is here.”
“Yes, so am I.” Derek grinned, and moved aside so that his mother could come closer.
“Hello, Margaret,” Robson said. “I met you at the wedding of Derek and Brooklyn.”
“Yes. What a lovely day that was.” She held out her hand and he shook it gently. “My friends call me Meg.”
“Then I shall be honored to call you Meg,” he said. “It is so nice to see you again.”
“Lovely to see you too, Robson.”
“Derek is a fine man.”
“Oh.” She touched her heart. “Thank you. I think so, too.”
He glanced toward my mother then and extended his hand. “Rebecca, gracious.”
She grabbed his hand as though it were a lifeline. And maybe it was. He had been her teacher and mentor and guru and friend for over twenty-five years and being in his presence was always special for her. And for many of us, too.
Robson was the person my parents had followed from San Francisco to Sonoma all those years ago. He was the head of the Fellowship for Spiritual Enlightenment and Higher Artistic Consciousness. He was Guru Bob. And just seeing him here made me angry all over again that Saffron had dared to call our group a cult. Robson was just a man, but he was highly spiritual and kind, and he had devoted his life to helping others.
He was the one person I had gone to when I had started finding dead bodies. I thought of his words all the time because the dead bodies kept on coming.
He’d said, “Have you not considered the possibility that the dead seek you out? In each of the instances of which you speak, even when the victim was not your friend, you have been compassionate, as well as passionate, in leading the charge for justice. Do you not think the universe recognizes this?”
“Wait a sec,” I had protested. “The police are pretty good at this, you know.”
“Ah, but in many of these situations, it is my understanding that you have led them to several clues they might not have otherwise uncovered.”
Guru Bob had helped me out, and remembering everything he had said to me kept me sane, mostly, in the middle of murder investigations.
“Robson,” Mom said, interrupting my memories. “Would you like a cup of tea or a pastry?”
“No thank you, gracious.” He smiled and gazed around the room. “I simply wanted to see you all and thank you for generously giving your time and energy toward making this book festival a wonderful experience for everyone who visits.”
“Thank you, Robson,” Mom said. The others chimed in their thanks, too, and Robson waved and left the room.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“A powerful force,” Derek murmured.
“I’ll say.”
Mom found her tote bag and pulled out her gavel. She probably hadn’t thought she would need it at a tea party, but apparently she did. Banging on the table, she brought the room to order. “As some of you may have guessed, our Louisa May Alcott scholar has decided to go home early.”
“Aw, such a shame,” Clyde muttered, and the rest of the committee clearly felt the same.
Mom smiled and said, “With that done then, as the last official act of the committee today, I would like us to have a moment of silence for Lawson.”
“Good idea,” Sue said.
“B-but what if he stole that money?” Saffron said in her usual whining tone.
“He’s dead,” Clyde said in a flash of anger. “Show some respect.”
“Yeah,” Sue said. “We’ll do the same for you when somebody knocks you off.”
* * *
• • •
Outside on the Green, Derek and I walked on either side of my mother and Meg while they chatted together.
We scanned the workers who were setting up the booths, watching for odd behavior of any kind. Nothing seemed out of line.
&nbs
p; The four of us walked over to the north end of the Circle where the porta-potties were being set up. We had a fascinating conversation with Buck, the self-proclaimed “porta-potty king,” and learned all about the workings of those handy contraptions. Mom had ordered twenty deluxe toilets—“deluxe,” meaning that they flushed. Woo-hoo. Two of those were ADA-compliant and actually quite large. Buck showed us how all of them worked. It was a revelation.
After that, we ran into Gabriel by the festival entrance where the sculpture still stood, thank goodness. He had some news for us.
“Derek, dear,” Meg said. “Becky and I are going to have a sit-down on the bench right here and chitchat for a few minutes.”
“All right, Mum,” Derek said, noting that the bench was barely ten feet away. “We’ll be right here.”
I pounced on Gabriel. “You were gone forever. Did something happen?”
“Babe,” he said, amused by my enthusiasm. “No, I was just checking things out.”
I was almost disappointed. I wanted something to happen. I wanted answers.
Glancing over at Meg and my mom, I was pleased to see them giggling about something Mom was holding in her hand. Happy to have a distraction, I left the men to commiserate and walked over to talk to the ladies.
“What’s going on with you two?” I asked.
“Oh, sweetie. We both picked a card from the tarot deck. Meg drew the Sun.”
I’d learned a bit about tarot a few years ago. “Doesn’t the Sun indicate joy and happiness, among other things?”
“Yes, it does,” Meg said with a big smile. “Isn’t that lovely?”
“Yes,” I said, “and it suits you, Meg.”
“Aren’t you sweet to say so?” Meg sniffed a little and Mom patted her shoulder.
“Your Brooklyn is such a dear,” Meg whispered.
Mom beamed at me and reached for my hand. “She certainly is.”
I grinned. “What’s your card, Mom?”
“I drew the World.”
“Wow,” I said, nodding. “Success and balance. Wholeness and achievement.”
“The beginning of one cycle and the start of another,” Meg added.
“Both of you drew Major Arcana cards. That’s huge. Mom, I’m sure all that success and achievement is referring to your work with the festival. It’s going to be tremendously successful.”
“And there will be great success in your personal life as well,” Meg added.
“Well, our Robin is having a baby,” Mom said.
“That’s right,” I said, and laughed. “So many changes. So many cycles.”
“Isn’t it marvelous?” Meg said.
“That was great fun.” Mom slipped the cards back into the box and leaned down to put them into her tote bag.
Just then, something whizzed past Mom and hit the side of one of the booths that had just been erected. The pretty yellow cloth lining that draped down the side of the booth recoiled from the impact, but managed to bounce back and stay upright.
“Derek!” I shouted.
“I’m here,” he said. “Get down!”
He’d already drawn his gun and Gabriel had taken off running across the green lawn.
I grabbed Mom and Meg and shoved them toward the booth behind us. The cloth hanging down on the sides won’t protect us from a bullet, I thought. Still, we’ll be hidden, which is better than remaining out in the open like sitting targets.
“Let’s hunker down here for a minute,” I said, trying to keep my tone level.
“Yes, this is a good place to hide,” Meg said agreeably.
“It couldn’t have been a bullet,” Mom said decidedly. “The cloth on that booth didn’t tear.”
It figured Mom would be reasonable even under attack.
“No, it didn’t.” Meg pursed her lips in thought. “Perhaps it was a rock or something like that. I wonder where it came from.”
“Both Derek and Gabriel have quick reaction times, don’t they?” Mom commented.
“Yes, they’re both excellent,” Meg agreed. “Very well trained. I feel quite safe with them nearby.” She patted my knee. “You, too, Brooklyn. Thank you for whisking us out of harm’s way.”
Once again, Mom and Meg had come out of this fiasco with their nerves and sensibilities intact. I imagined I would’ve been shaking and whimpering if I’d been here by myself. But these two had nerves of steel, calmly discussing reaction times and whether or not it had been a bullet or a rock. But then, they’d both survived raising multiple children. That made them plenty tough. They would be pretty good companions in a foxhole.
“We’re clear,” Derek announced, having slipped his gun back under his jacket.
“Thank you, dear.” Meg grinned at Mom. “Well, wasn’t that exciting?”
“Very. I’m all out of breath.”
Gabriel came running up, gave Derek a pointed look, and shook his head. Which meant that they hadn’t caught the guy.
Meg looked up at Derek. “What was it exactly that was flung at us?”
“It was a good-sized rock,” Derek said, opening his hand to reveal a rock only slightly smaller than a golf ball. “And it was indeed flung. Probably by a slingshot.”
That size rock coupled with its speed was enough to kill, I thought.
“I knew it couldn’t be a bullet,” Meg said. “Becky and I were just guessing that it had been a rock.”
“That’s right, Derek. Your mom thought of it first.” My mom said with pride in her voice.
“Well done, Mum,” Derek said, looking a little flustered, and who could blame him?
“Didn’t anyone out here notice a person flinging a rock from a slingshot?” I asked.
Derek pointed to the roof of the town hall directly across the Circle from where Mom and Meg were sitting. “He was probably perched right there on the roof. Then he likely dashed behind the clock tower to avoid being seen.”
“There’s easy access from the roof down into the kitchen,” Gabriel explained. “Then out the door on the other side and he disappears into the crowd.”
“He has pretty good aim,” I mused.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said. “Maybe we should be looking for a major league pitcher.”
I shook my head in wonder. “How can anyone send a rock that size so far and so accurately?”
Gabriel shrugged. “The right person using a good slingshot can shoot the distance of more than four football fields at a speed up to one hundred miles an hour.”
“How do you know this stuff?” I asked.
“I’m a man of many talents.” He just grinned and I realized that Gabriel was probably one of those people who could achieve that distance and speed. And that same accuracy. Whew. And looking at Derek, I figured he couldn’t be far behind in those skills.
“Never mind,” I muttered. “Hey, Gabriel, did you get a chance to ask Detective Willoughby about the security cameras on the Lane?”
“Yeah,” he said, and grimaced. “They got nothing. Plenty of sidewalk action, but very little of the street itself. Sorry, babe.”
“That’s okay. I guess I wasn’t expecting much.” But I had been hoping. “Oh, and did anything ever come of that missing button you guys found in the meeting room?”
He chuckled. “It belongs to one of the housecleaners.”
“Ah. Well, okay.” So much for my top-notch investigative skills. I sighed and turned to my mother. “Are you all right, Mom?”
She had to have been shaken up, even though the rock hadn’t made contact with her. And seeing the way Derek had whipped out his gun and I had shoved them back behind the booth, it couldn’t have been easy for her or Meg.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I didn’t even know what was happening, until you got us up and out of there.”
I gazed at Derek and he put his arm around my sh
oulder. “I think you’re more shaken up than our mothers, darling.”
I blew out a breath. “I heard that rock whizz by. It sounded like a missile.”
“I heard it, too, dear,” Meg said. “But since it quickly became clear that none of us was hurt, I refused to worry.” She glanced at the booth. “I suppose that booth got a bit shaken up, though.”
“The booth will be fine,” I said with a smile.
Gabriel said, “I’m going to call Steve Willoughby and report this.”
“But no one was hurt, dear,” Meg said.
“No, but somebody might’ve noticed a person carrying a slingshot.”
“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Mom observed. “So you’d probably remember if you did.”
“That’s the hope.” Gabriel grinned. “I’ll have the cops check it out.”
Chapter 15
The four of us ran into Clyde on the way back to the car and he gave us the bad news.
“My author event has been cancelled due to the Good Book having been turned into a crime scene.”
I groaned with disappointment. Was that callous of me? Caring more about the Dead Author event than I did about Banyan’s death? Maybe, but in my defense, Banyan hadn’t given me many reasons to care about him, while Clyde had.
“Oh dear, Clyde,” Mom said. “Will you reschedule?”
“Yeah, I’ll figure out a date as soon as the cops let me back into the store. I’ll post the new date on the website but it should be sometime in the next two weeks.”
“What a shame,” Meg said. “But we’ll do it again.”
“Yes, I’m dying to see Agatha Christie,” Mom said.
“And she’s dying to see you, too.” I snickered. “Get it?”
“Well done, Brooklyn,” Meg said cheerfully, but my mother just rolled her eyes.
“It was a cheap joke,” I admitted. “But worth saying, don’t you think?”
“Get in the car, love,” Derek said, ending the discussion.
* * *
• • •
As soon as we got home, Derek pulled the plastic crate from his trunk and I took it out to Abraham’s workshop to continue my work on Little Women.
The Grim Reader Page 25
