Hooking for Trouble

by Betty Hechtman

  “Cheyenne, geez, I just came here to crochet.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw CeeCee’s eyes flash as she turned to look across the bookstore. “When did you start hanging up photos of your celebrity customers?” There was just a touch of anger in her usually cheery-sounding voice. The dog reacted to it and jumped off her lap and went back into his stroller. I could see CeeCee’s point. She’d been a customer and head of the Hookers for a long time, and she was certainly a celebrity. She’d had a long career, and was currently having a whole new one, thanks to her role in Caught by a Kiss. She was recognized all the time, and customers often asked to snap selfies with her, even when she was in the midst of working with the crochet group.

  Mrs. Shedd quickly realized her error and joined the group. “CeeCee, we’d be honored to have a photo of you. And you, too,” she said, turning to Lauren.

  “There you go,” Cheyenne said, patting her sister on the back. Cheyenne seemed to have a naturally big personality, and it seemed natural for her to project it. Clearly, Lauren wasn’t the same. “Wait until the new album comes out and everyone hears the song you wrote.” Cheyenne addressed all of us. “It’s really kick-ass, and I can’t wait for you to hear it.” She pulled her sister up. “We could sing a few bars for them.”

  “Not now,” Lauren said, pulling free and sitting back down.

  “You should talk to Molly about setting up something at the bookstore around the time of its release,” Mrs. Shedd suggested. “You could sign CDs and maybe sing a number or two.”

  “Why wait? We could do something for this album.” She held out the CD she brought to show us. “Maybe we could do something in two weeks.” Cheyenne pulled out her phone and began to check her calendar. I was stunned at how fast she reacted. She certainly knew the meaning of seize the moment.

  “Molly,” Mrs. Shedd prodded when I didn’t react.

  “Right,” I said, backing away to get the calendar from the information booth. When I returned, Susan was looking really steamed and beginning to tap her crochet hook on the table in a most annoying manner. She shot us all a disgusted look, put down the hook, and got up from the table. “I’m not here for all this celebrity nonsense. I’m going to the restroom, and when I come back this class better start, or I want a refund.”

  We all watched her go, a little surprised by the sharpness of her tone. We were even more surprised when Lauren spoke up. “And make that refund in cash,” she said in a perfect mimic of Susan’s nasally voice.

  * * *

  Once we got started the class went almost smoothly. Adele had us all start our scarves, and she helped Cheyenne catch up. Lauren’s yarn choice caused Adele to get flustered. She was the only one who had chosen different yarn from what was recommended. Adele was convinced that the fuzzy nature of some of the skeins was going to cause Lauren problems. She urged her to reconsider, but Lauren was resolute.

  Much to Susan’s chagrin, we had treats. CeeCee brought in some brownies her housekeeper had made. I was cleaning up and noticed a chocolate smudge on a plastic bag. “Wow,” I said to Dinah, “it’s a fingerprint. I’m taking this for my set.” I put the whole bag into a paper sack and marked it with the date. Then I tried to re-create who was sitting where to determine whose fingerprint it was.

  “Why are you bothering with all that?” Dinah said.

  “You’re right. I’m getting a little too carried away with collecting evidence—evidence of what?” I said with a laugh. Even so, I put it aside, planning to add it to my collection when I got home.

  With the class over, I could have ended my workday, but Mason was still out of town and my son said he would feed the animals. “I don’t know how you manage dealing with all the divas around here,” Dinah said. She’d gotten a drink from the café and was sitting at the yarn department table, working on another pot holder. They were her go-to projects to carry around and work on when she didn’t want to have to concentrate too hard.

  “Thank heavens I worked out the date for Cheyenne before Susan came back and started a mutiny,” I said. “It’s a good thing we have Terri, Melody and Fanny to balance things off. I suppose I should include Lauren, too. I say if she wants to keep a low profile, it’s okay with me, particularly regarding the class.”

  Dinah seemed to be in no hurry to leave, either. “Commander has a bunch of things for me to look over for our wedding. I don’t get it. It’s just going to be a simple ceremony at City Hall and then a brunch. How much planning do you have to do?”

  “I think it’s sweet it means so much to him,” I said, and she softened.

  “I guess it is. I’m sure everything will be fine once it’s over with.” She let out a sigh. “He wants to talk about where we’re going to live.”

  Her mention of housing made me think of the monster mansion behind me and all that had gone on there. I filled Dinah in. “I’m sure glad that Cheyenne doesn’t know I’m the person who sent the cops over.” I picked up some loose strands of yarn and threw them away. “She’s really big on promoting herself. Don’t you think if she was doing some dance number on a TV show she would have mentioned it?”

  Dinah looked up from her work. “I agree. She outdid Adele in the center-of-attention department.”

  “If there’s no dance routine, that would mean I was right and there was some kind of altercation going on.”

  Dinah laughed at my word choice. “You’re starting to sound like a cop. Altercation? How about a family feud?”

  I was getting ready to call it a night when Adele rushed across the bookstore and back into the yarn department. She threw her arms around me so hard I almost fell on the table.

  “Emergency, Pink, emergency!” She stopped only long enough to swallow a sob. “I just saw on the news on my phone that our wedding venue went bankrupt and they’ve shut the doors permanently.” She let go of me and flopped into one of the chairs. “What am I going to do?”

  CHAPTER 6

  It was the next night, and I could hear the landline ringing from across my dark backyard. I rushed to open the door and get to it before it went to voice mail.

  “I was about to give up,” Mason said after I managed a breathy hello. “I tried your cell and sent you a text.” He sounded exasperated.

  “Sorry,” I said. I was behind the times. My phone was usually in my purse, where I might or might not hear it ring. I had turned off all the dings and dongs to signal texts and e-mails, too. The rest of the world might be staring at the screens on their phones, but I was more interested in what was going on where I was. “I was just going to check my messages and e-mails when I got home.”

  “I can’t wait to get back,” Mason said. “Miss me?”

  “Of course,” I said. We had talked every night since he’d been gone, but often only for a few minutes due to the time difference. Mason was in the dark about what had gone on in the house behind me. Really all we’d done was check in with each other. I would tell him about everything when he got back.

  Samuel might have taken care of the animals, but he hadn’t turned on the outside lights. While I talked to Mason, I flipped on the floodlights in the backyard. The number of them burned out seemed to have grown.

  I said something about the lights being burned out and he suggested I get Samuel to change them.

  I mumbled an agreement, knowing that the problem was remembering that the bulbs were burned out during the day when my son was there.

  “I’ve got another call,” he grumbled. “I’m sure it’s my client.” Mason sighed. “He couldn’t even get through his movie release without getting into trouble. I have to go. He’s a basket case. I hope we can settle everything tomorrow.” I heard his voice brighten. “And then I can come home.” I heard him chuckle. “If Samuel hasn’t changed your lightbulbs by then, I will.” Then after his usual “Love you,” he was gone.

  I looked out the kitchen window at my
dingy yard and decided I wasn’t waiting for anyone or even daylight. I would just do it and be done with it.

  I dragged the ladder up to a fixture with its bulb out. I’d left the lights on so I wouldn’t be working in the dark, but the downside was that unless I was very careful I could get an electric shock. It was dicey getting the big floodlight bulb out and settled on the ladder and then getting ahold of the new one. I was super careful to touch only the glass portion as I fit it into the receptacle. I turned it, and then suddenly there was light.

  I checked the yard to see how much more was illuminated. Actually, I checked out the whole area. It always amazed me how much more I could see from a ladder. Now that I could easily see over the fence, I saw the lighted pool of my next door neighbor. I turned toward the back of my yard and saw that the light shone through a break in the trees into Cheyenne’s yard and dimly lit the area at the base of the balcony. Light from their windows illuminated the area even more. As I looked closer, I saw that there seemed to be something on the ground.

  Ignore it, I told myself. As if that was going to happen. I got down from the ladder carefully and walked to the back of my yard. I got right up next to the sagging chain-link fence and looked over it. There was definitely something long on the ground. There was just enough light to get a hint of the color blue. I strained to get a better view, and then I almost chocked on my breath. It wasn’t something; it was someone.

  I had to get help, so I sprinted across the yard. I rushed inside and reached for the landline, but I totally blanked out on what number to call. When I found my cell phone, it was easy—just hit the icon and the phone did the remembering. I heard the phone begin to ring on the other end. Barry got it by the third one. Before he’d gotten out his usual “Greenberg,” I interrupted.

  “You have to come. Right away,” I said.

  “Molly?” he said, his voice losing its professional cool. “What’s going on?”

  The words tumbled out. “They weren’t dancing on the balcony the night of my party. It was just a cover story,” I said, the words tumbling into each other. “And now someone is lying on the ground.”

  “What were you doing in that yard?” Barry said, suddenly going back to his cop persona.

  “I wasn’t in the yard,” I said, feeling defensive. “I only went in there before because Mr. Kitty got in there.” I felt the need to make sure Barry understood, so I explained how I had been changing the burned-out floodlight.

  “In the dark? Are you crazy? You could have fallen off the ladder.”

  “I wasn’t in the dark. I left the lights on while I changed the bulb,” I said.

  That only seemed to make him more concerned that I could have electrocuted myself.

  “Electrocute is a little strong,” I countered. “I got a shock doing that once, and it’s more like just a buzz.” I glanced out the window at the yard, realizing we were wasting time. “It doesn’t matter. There’s someone on the ground, right below the balcony. You need to come and bring your troops. Paramedics, the whole crowd. And hurry.”

  “Let’s not rush to any action just yet. The last time you were sure that couple was fighting, and when I checked it out, everything was fine. I still think it was probably true that they were doing what they said, practicing some dance number.”

  “There are so many reasons I don’t buy that,” I argued. “But I don’t want to waste time explaining it now.”

  “Molly, if I go there again and it turns out to be nothing, they’re going to think we’re harassing them, or that someone is playing pranks on them by calling in reports on supposed emergencies. We’ve had a fair share of things like that with celebrities.”

  “I’m telling you, someone is on the ground. I don’t know if they’re injured or worse. If you’re not going to get some of your people over here, I’ll just have to go into the yard and see to them myself.”

  “No, Molly,” Barry warned. “Don’t even go back into your own yard. I’ll check it out.”

  “Hurry,” I said.

  “Sure,” he replied. But he didn’t sound like he meant it.

  I left the kitchen and went to the entrance hall and began to pace near the front door. Shortly, I heard the wail of sirens growing louder until they stopped nearby, and I let out a breath of relief. Then there was more waiting and pacing. I knew Barry would come to give me a report eventually. I wondered if he would apologize for not believing me at first.

  I jumped at the knock on the door. I pulled it open before he had time to retract his hand. As soon as he saw me, he began shaking his head slowly.

  “The person is dead,” I said, feeling somehow that I’d failed to get someone there fast enough to save them. For the first time, I considered who the body might be. “I should have done something more.”

  “Stop,” he said, putting up his hand to reinforce what he’d said. He came inside and shut the door behind him. “No one is dead. There’s no one there.” He looked at me sternly. He let out his breath and glanced toward the living room. “Could we sit down and talk about this?”

  I led the way into the adjacent room and sat on the couch. He took a chair opposite me. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I said.

  “Nothing’s going on,” he said. “I went there and brought the troops, as you called them. Cheyenne and her husband weren’t even home. The babysitter—I mean nanny—answered the door. The poor girl seemed pretty shaken to see us. But who could blame her, having a bunch of cops and paramedics pounding on the door.”

  “But I’m telling you I saw something in the yard. I know it was a person.”

  Barry let out a heavy sigh. “The nanny’s name is Jennifer Clarkson. When I told her a neighbor had reported seeing someone lying in the yard, she let us look around.”

  “And?” I prompted impatiently.

  “And we found a cushion from a chaise longue on the ground. She said the kids had been playing on the balcony since they couldn’t go in the yard and had thrown one of the cushions over the side. She showed us the balcony, and sure enough, there was a yellow cushion on one of the chaises and nothing on the other one. Everyone is accounted for. The Mackenzies were at a taping of the program she’s a judge on. I couldn’t speak to her because they were actively taping, but I talked to him. The kids were sound asleep.” He shook his head disparagingly. “And now I have to explain to my superior why we were there again.”

  I started to protest, but he stopped me. “You’ve got to stop seeing crime wherever you look.” He took something out of his pocket and held out a plastic bag. It was one of the plastic specimen bags from my detective kit. “When we went out in the yard, Jennifer found this on the ground. I talked her into giving it to me. The last thing I wanted was for them to see something of yours in their yard.”

  I was confused until I remembered that I’d written my name and the date on the tab. “There are just some dog hairs in there from when I was practicing collecting specimens. I must have dropped it when I went in there looking for Mr. Kitty.” I glanced up at him. “Thank you. You’re right. I wouldn’t want something with my name on it found in their yard.” He dropped it on the coffee table.

  “I should really confiscate that kit,” he said cracking a smile. “And you’re welcome. Your identity is safe.” He got up and I, along with my menagerie of pets, walked him to the door.

  I told him I was sorry for the trouble, and he softened. “I know you meant well.” He gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze and then left.

  I went back to the kitchen and looked out. I know I should have stayed inside and minded my own business, but I had to have another look in that yard. I tried to stay in the shadows as I went to the back fence, stood next to one of the trees in my yard, and looked over. Sure enough, the light was hitting something long and yellow. But what I’d seen was blue.

  CHAPTER 7

  I waited until it was v
ery late and the lights had gone off in the Chambers-Mackenzie house. Barry would have had a fit if he knew what I was doing, but I knew I’d never sleep unless I got a better look at the cushion. I turned off my floodlights so that both yards were in the dark. I didn’t dare use a flashlight, either.

  The old gate opened more easily this time and I slipped into the yard. I darted to the area below the balcony, which wasn’t that easy, since the ground was rough and there were tools and supplies that had been left by the workmen. Sure enough, there was a yellow chaise cushion on the ground. I lifted it, and underneath there was the stone laid for the patio. I ran my hand along the cool, irregular slab and felt something gritty. When I smelled my fingers, I noted a faint scent of salt.

  I remembered something I’d read in one of the booklets that came along with the detective set about salt being used to remove blood stains. I slipped back across the yard to my place and found the small bottle in the box. I had to do a little mixing before slipping back to the yellow cushion. I lifted it and sprayed the contents of the small bottle on the ground. It only took a moment for the bits of blue glow to appear. I felt my breath suck in as I realized what it meant. The label on the bottle of Blood Detector said it reacted with any traces of blood, making this eerie glow. The salt hadn’t removed it all and there was residue left behind. I jerked my fist in a triumphant movement. I was right. Blood didn’t come from cushions. Someone had been lying there.

  As I went back inside, I considered calling Barry and telling him what I’d found, but I decided I needed more to tell him first, like who the somebody was.

  * * *

  All these late nights were getting to me, and I was dragging when I left for the bookstore the next morning. But not dragging so much that I didn’t have a look into Cheyenne’s yard on my way to the car. I didn’t want to be seen, so I stood behind one of my redwood trees and peeked out. The cushion was gone and the workmen had reappeared. I saw that they were working on the slabs of stone being laid for the patio. One of them had a pressurized hose and was washing everything down. So much for showing Barry what I’d found.