For Better or Worsted

by Betty Hechtman

  Not that I minded the first one I got. “Sunshine,” Mason said, smiling at me from the other side of the counter. I was surprised to see him in the middle of the day, and worried there was something new wrong.

  “It must be the attire,” he said, glancing down at himself. Instead of the beautifully tailored suits he wore for work, he had on a pair of khakis and a Hawaiian shirt. “I took the day off to help Thursday. Now that the funeral is over,” he said with a heavy sigh. “She needs to move on, and she doesn’t want to overstay her welcome. We went looking for a place for her.”

  The funeral had been several days earlier. Thursday had barely talked about it, other than to say that it was small and terribly sad. Mason and Jaimee had gone with her, and I was glad I hadn’t been invited along.

  I asked him about the outcome of their search, and he said they’d looked at a few places, but hadn’t found anything yet. “It will still be a while longer, if that’s okay,” he said. I assured him it was.

  Mason leaned on the counter and looked around the bookstore with a grin. “I wouldn’t want to get you in trouble with your boss. Should I pretend to be asking for help in finding something?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Mrs. Shedd knows who you are. So, you were saying?”

  “Thursday’s mother was going to help her, but my daughter didn’t want to have a film crew traipsing behind them, so I stepped in.” He shrugged as if it was no big thing. It was to me. I was so impressed at what a caring father he was. It wasn’t so much what he did, but how he did it. All from the heart.

  “We stopped by on the chance you were ready for a break and we could treat you to something.” He put his hand on my arm and ran his finger over my skin. “There’s no way I can thank you for what you’ve done.” He stopped and chuckled. “But wait, maybe there is. If you want to be friends with the detective, okay, but I say we step things up with us to the next level, and then I can properly show my appreciation.” He got a naughty grin and wiggled his eyebrows.

  I was glad to see that Mason was back to his fun self. “Thanks, but no thanks for now,” I said.

  “Like I told you before, I’m a patient man,” Mason said.

  “And persistent,” I said. “For now, I’ll take you up on a coffee. Did you say Thursday was with you?”

  I made a scan of the bookstore and then stopped when I recognized her stylish lopsided haircut. She was standing at one of the display tables at the front of the bookstore, looking over the selection of Halloween merchandise. Ben Sherman was at the same table, examining the candles and plastic skeletons. There seemed no connection between them, but then I noticed a slight shake of her head that was clearly a response to someone. And since there was no one else there, it seemed obvious it had to be Ben.

  “Does Thursday know him?” I said, trying to be discreet as I gestured over Mason’s shoulder.

  “Who?” Mason said, picking up my cue and turning. But by then, Ben was already out the door and Thursday was walking toward us.

  She seemed happy to see me and greeted me with a hug. She repeated what Mason had said about getting a place and getting on with her life. Mason put a supportive arm around her and said how well she was doing under the circumstances.

  “Maybe when you get settled, you’ll want to join the writing workshop we’re going to have at the bookstore,” I said, watching Thursday intently. “Ben Sherman is going to be the facilitator,” I said, keeping tabs on her expression. “I think you know him. He was just at the front table with you, and I saw you talking to him before.”

  I was hoping she’d break into a smile and say something like, “Oh, him. Sure I met him at a party or we went to high school together.” Instead, she seemed nonchalant as she said, “You must be mistaken. I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

  Uh-oh.

  CHAPTER 14

  “I CAN’T TELL MASON THAT I THINK HIS DAUGHTER IS lying,” I said to Dinah. When my day at the bookstore had finally ended, Dinah and I had gone up the street to Le Grande Fromage to get some dinner. I was glad for the company as I needed some help in processing everything that had happened. Dinah was a whiz at dealing with students that were all over the place, and I hoped she could do something with my day.

  It was past dinner hour, and there were only a couple of tables occupied in Le Grande Fromage. We picked an empty one and left our things before heading to the counter to order. I didn’t realize until we were at the front counter that the person being waited on was Isa Susberg.

  She was talking to the counter help. I ate here often and saw she was talking to a fellow named Matt Kearns. I knew she didn’t want to commit to having the shower at the bookstore yet, but I thought it would be a good idea to be friendly. I’d wait until she was finished with her order and then say hello.

  I heard the tail end of their conversation and almost let out a groan as I realized they were talking about Thursday’s wedding. How long was it going to take before it wasn’t the topic of conversation all over Tarzana?

  “I’m certainly not putting that on my résumé,” the counter guy said, shaking his head. “I think you guests got off easier. It seems like the cops took your statements first. When they got to me, it was strictly my name and I didn’t see anything.”

  “My husband was very upset. All those questions about who had invited us and his connection with the groom’s family.” Isa looked past Matt to the cook in the back who was putting together her order. She asked for extra sauce for something before turning back to the counter guy. “It was very awkward because my husband is a business associate of Jackson Kingsley’s, rather than a friend or family.” I couldn’t see her face, but the counter guy seemed to react to her expression.

  “And I’m guessing he wasn’t a big fan,” Matt said. It seemed like he was going to add something, but then shrugged it off as he noticed me standing behind her and said he’d be with me in a minute.

  As Isa picked up her order, I greeted her. Before I could say anything, she brought up the shower and said she would let me know soon. As she left, Dinah pretended to be looking over the menu, but I knew she was giving me a moment to talk to Matt.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear,” I said. “So, you worked that reception.” He nodded.

  “I saw you come in,” he said. “You were with the homicide detective.” He said it half as a question and half as a statement. “He’s the one who took my statement.” Matt gestured toward the menu and started listing the daily specials, clearly trying to move things along. Dinah and I ordered and then went to our table to wait for the food.

  “How come you didn’t ask him anything?” Dinah said in a low voice when we’d sat down.

  I lowered my voice even more to whisper. “He said he saw me come in with Barry, and Barry took his statement.” I mentioned that he’d told Isa that he’d only told the cop who questioned him his name and that he knew nothing. “Do you think he would tell me anything else?”

  “You’re right,” Dinah said.

  “Besides, I’m more concerned with Thursday.” I repeated what I’d thought I had seen earlier and her reaction.

  “Maybe there’s an explanation. Suppose she just ran into him those two times and they started up a conversation, but there were no names attached.”

  “I’d agree, except that the second time, it was obvious they were trying to appear like they weren’t talking to each other. That implies hiding something. And she said she wasn’t talking to anybody.”

  “You’ll just have to confront her,” Dinah said. “Use some of the interrogation tricks in the Average Joe book.

  I rocked my head with discouragement. “This is so awful to say, but Thursday is pretty clever. And she is a lawyer’s daughter. I think she understands that all she has to do is deny knowing him.”

  I went back over the rest of my day, and by the time I got to Adele and the crochet lesson, which amounted to Lyla lea
rning how to do a slipknot, Dinah’s eyes were almost going in circles. “Though I have to say, Adele seems to be okay as a teacher.” I was going to go into more detail, but Dinah stopped me.

  “Enough about her, can we go back to the Detective Barry encounter?” my friend said. Just then Matt showed up with our tray of food. Had he heard her? I couldn’t tell by his expression. It didn’t matter anyway. I’d already figured he wasn’t about to confide anything in me. He put the onion soup down in front of Dinah. I had only a croissant and some brie cheese. We were sharing a green salad. It wasn’t until he’d headed back to the front with the empty tray that we resumed our conversation.

  “I wasn’t going to say anything about Emerson doing the flowers. I just sort of blurted it out,” I said, figuring that was what she meant about the Barry encounter.

  Dinah stuck her spoon through the layer of soft bread and melted cheese to the steaming soup. “I was thinking more about that hug you say he gave you. It sounds like it left you a little weak-kneed.”

  “It doesn’t matter. And it doesn’t matter that Mason isn’t happy with the state of affairs.” I giggled at my word choice. “Or that there aren’t any. Nothing is changing.” I took a bite of the buttery croissant and creamy cheese. I was glad they’d added some baby lettuce to cut the richness. “I’d rather talk about Jonah’s murder.”

  Dinah gave me a knowing look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to talk about. I bet he’s not the only one who just gave their name,” Dinah said with the hint of a gesture toward Matt, who was back behind the counter.

  “It seemed like Isa’s husband wasn’t very forthcoming, either,” I said.

  “And with all those guests and servers wandering around, how they’ll ever figure out what evidence goes with the killer is beyond me,” Dinah said. “You should really ask Thursday about Paxton Cline. Maybe she knows why he got bounced as best man. Think about it. He could have known about the robot-looking servers and figured out he could blend in and leave before anybody knew what happened. And his alibi of going to a baseball game. Puleeze. Talk about lame.”

  “Wouldn’t Barry be surprised if I not only told him about Paxton, but handed him all the evidence he needed?” Then I deflated. “But Paxton seems so nice and he works for his grandmother’s yarn company.”

  Dinah rolled her eyes. “Nice people can do bad things.” She spooned up the last of her soup.

  “It’s going to be pretty hard to ask Thursday about Paxton if I’m trying to corner her about knowing Ben.” I pushed my plate away and wiped my mouth with my napkin. “I hope it turns out that I’m just seeing bogeymen under the bed, and there’s a simple explanation. Or she misunderstood. It has to be something like that, doesn’t it?” I looked to Dinah for confirmation. She just put up her hands and shrugged. Then, good friend that she is, offered to come with.

  “It’s better if I do it alone,” I said. “And there’s no time like the present.”

  We walked back to the parking lot, and Dinah wished me luck before continuing on the short distance to her house.

  As was becoming all too common, things didn’t turn out as I had planned. When I walked into my kitchen, I noticed two things right away. No dogs and cats met me at the door as they usually did, and there was the sound of voices coming from my living room. I slipped to the doorway and took a peek. Thursday and her mother were sitting on the couch, talking. Maybe talking was the wrong word. It sounded more like arguing. Not the yelling kind of arguing, more like terse voices coming through gritted teeth.

  I didn’t want to get in the middle of it and just wanted to get across the house to my room. But the only way was through the living room. Could I manage without getting caught up in their tussle? I paused a moment, listening.

  “Thursday, you can’t just avoid dealing with it,” Jaimee said.

  “Yes, I can,” Thursday countered. There seemed to be a momentary standoff, the perfect time for me to make my way across the house.

  As I stepped through the doorway, Jaimee looked up. “Good, you’re here. I’ve been trying to tell Thursday she can’t just walk away from the condo where she and Jonah were going to live.” Even at this distance, I could see that Jaimee was perfectly outfitted in a turquoise pants outfit with a lot of gold accents. After the day I’d had, I felt tired and grubby in comparison. I was also stunned to hear that she seemed happy to see me, until it became apparent why. She thought I would take her side in the argument and make it go in her favor. I already knew the condo situation, but I let her explain in detail anyway. The condo itself was in the Kingsleys’ business name, and she agreed that Thursday had no claim to it. Jaimee didn’t care about most of the furnishings. It was really only a few things. “I know your father is all for you just walking away from all of it, but we picked those things out for you and you should take them.” Jaimee turned back to me. “You were there when we picked them out.”

  I had to laugh that she was trying to make that a reason why I should side with her. Yes, I’d been with Mason and her when they’d bought the gifts, but she’d done her best to make me feel like an unwelcome third wheel. Could it be that she had changed?

  Jaimee’s face did seem softer as she looked at me. “Don’t you think she ought to have them?” Jaimee continued to plead her case to me. “I understand Jackson Kingsley is grief-stricken,” she said, “but blaming our family for the tragedy is ridiculous. You would think they’d be trying to embrace Thursday as their son’s widow instead of acting like she’s the enemy. You should have seen them at the funeral.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice as if her daughter wasn’t sitting right next to her and could hear every word even if she whispered.

  “We didn’t even sit with them. There was a lunch afterwards at Brae Mar Country Club. The atmosphere was so cold I got the chills. Now that I see what kind of person Jackson Kingsley is, I’m glad Thursday isn’t going to be part of their family.” She waited for a nod of understanding from me. I could see her point.

  “I was mortified when that man insisted that the police detain me,” Jaimee said. “I bet if he didn’t have that deep voice that made him sound like he’s some kind of authority on everything, the police wouldn’t have listened to him. Why in the world would I have wanted to kill Jonah? I was very happy that Thursday was marrying him. I thought they were a nice family and he was a solid young man. Just because I was holding the knife.” She cringed thinking about it.

  “If I hadn’t been able to show them how my shapewear made it impossible to lift my arms high enough to stab anyone, who knows what would have happened?” She let out a big sigh. “The only good thing that came out of that horrible trip to the police station was that the producer of The Housewives of Mulholland Drive decided to make me the focal character. Cerise is the only other housewife that came close in the drama department.” Jaimee rolled her eyes. “As if getting caught stealing the salt and pepper shaker, jelly dispenser and vase off the table at a deli is even on the same planet of what I went through.”

  “It must have been terrible,” I said in a compassionate tone. I admit it was a little calculated, but I had never heard Jaimee’s version of what had happened at the wedding. Her face softened even more, and she pointed to the spot on the couch next to Thursday and urged me to join them, which was pretty funny considering it was my couch.

  “You have no idea,” she began, looking at me as if I was her new best friend. “I was going to check on the cake. The florist was supposed to add the floral decorations to the cake at the last minute, and I wanted to make sure it was right.”

  “Wasn’t she supposed to hand out fresh boutonnieres, too?” I said, interrupting. Then I explained how I knew Emerson.

  Jaimee flashed me a surprised look, then made a face. “Everybody thinks I’m too fussy, but redo the boutonnieres? No.” I don’t think she appreciated the interruption and went back to her story.

  “The cake was on
a long table at the edge of the tent. Right away I saw that the knife was missing. As I went around to the back of the table, I saw that it was on the ground. What I didn’t see—” she stopped and took a few breaths before continuing, “was that Jonah’s foot was sticking out beyond the end of the table. I picked up the knife and saw the blood on it, and then I at the same time, I saw someone was lying on the ground. I guess I stepped backwards in shock and that’s when I tripped over his foot. I tried to catch myself, but every time I tried to move my arms, that shapewear made them snap back to my sides.” She rocked her head in dismay as she relived the moment. “I couldn’t keep myself from landing in the cake.”

  With her story finished, Jaimee let out her breath. Thursday started to speak in a shaky voice.

  “When I saw Jonah on the ground, I thought he must have had some kind of attack,” Thursday said. “My first thought was to help him up. But when I did—” She paused to suck in her breath. “It was horrible.” Her voice quivered for a moment as tears welled up in her eyes.

  And then the dam broke. Thursday began to cry, then sob, until her shoulders shook. Jaimee and I leaned toward her from either side, cocooning her as she wrapped her arms around herself, finally letting out all the emotions that she’d been holding in. The sobs turned to spasms of hiccups as she tried to calm herself. Then the three of us leaned back into the couch, exhausted, and in my case, relieved. Finally, Thursday had shown a normal reaction to the death of her groom.

  “Maybe we should get you some tranquilizers. We need to get you something,” her mother said, sounding a little frantic. But Thursday shook her head. I had to give Jaimee credit, at least she was trying to do something.

  What happened next surprised and warmed my heart. Still having an occasional hiccup, Thursday leaned toward the coffee table and picked up her crocheting, and as she began to work her hook through the cream-colored cotton, her breathing evened out and the anguish left her face.