Hooking for Trouble

by Betty Hechtman

  Adele recovered long enough to add, “And where is the picture of me with Cheyenne? I am the teacher of the Tunisian class that she’s taking.”

  Rhoda turned to me. “Molly, aren’t you upset they didn’t take a photo of you with her?”

  I laughed it off and then told CeeCee I was sure Mr. Royal would give her a special spot once they had some photos of her to put up.

  “We could take some pictures right now,” she said giving her brown hair a little primp. I had to break the bad news that Mr. Royal had left for the evening, and she wilted.

  “There’s something I have to tell you all,” I said, moving on. “Cheyenne mentioned that she might join one of our happy hour gatherings.” There was instant grumbling from Adele and CeeCee that no one had brought it up to them.

  “I didn’t mention it because it just came up today.” I hesitated on how much to explain. “Do you remember that big white house you can see so clearly from my backyard?”

  They all nodded, except Eduardo, who hadn’t made it to my surprise party. “That’s Cheyenne’s house.” I paused to try to collect my thoughts before continuing. “I might have seen some suspicious activity going on in there and called the police—well, Barry Greenberg—a couple of times.”

  “And?” Rhoda said, leaning forward with interest.

  “It turned out to be nothing, or at least that’s what Barry said. He didn’t tell Cheyenne who called, so she just thinks it was a crazy neighbor.”

  “What did you see going on?” Elise said.

  “We’ll get to that,” I said. “The point is, it’s important that Cheyenne keeps not knowing that I’m her neighbor.” I dropped my voice in case Mrs. Shedd was in the area, and then explained the event and how much it meant to Mrs. Shedd. “Cheyenne’s husband isn’t really in favor of it. I’m the one putting together the event. If they find out I’m the crazy neighbor . . .” I let my voice trail off.

  “Got it,” Rhoda said. “I won’t mention a thing.” The rest of them agreed, though Adele protested being left out of the event planning.

  “I’m the one who made the initial connection with her when she brought her kids in to story time,” she said.

  “Dear, you have enough on your plate with your wedding woes,” CeeCee said. “And I’m sure you wouldn’t want to cause any problems with your boss by spilling who lives near where Molly lives.”

  Adele let out a very heavy sigh. “You’re right. I have to think about Cutchykins now, and how to tell him what happened.”

  I think Adele expected to stay the center of attention, but Elise asked again about what I’d seen. I decided to play it down. If I told them everything, there was no way they’d be able to keep quiet about it if Cheyenne came to the group or the next meeting of the Tunisian class.

  I simply told them Barry’s version. They laughed when they heard that I’d thought people were fighting, but were actually practicing a dramatic dance routine, and that when I thought I saw a body, it was really a chaise cushion lying on the ground.

  Dinah remained silent during my explanation, but when I got to the part about the chaise cushion, her eyes popped. She’d heard about the supposed dance routine, but I hadn’t had time to tell her about what had happened the previous night. Under her breath, she said, “You can fill me in later.”

  “I can see why you don’t want Cheyenne to know you’re her neighbor,” Rhoda said. “Sending the cops there twice.” She looked at the others. “We’ll keep your secret, won’t we?” They all nodded, and the subject was dropped as we all began to concentrate on our crocheting.

  The group broke up when the hour ended, but Dinah stayed at the table. She looked around to make sure there were no ears listening. “You saw a chaise cushion that you thought was a body?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it before,” I began. I got up from the table and started to clear up the stray bits of yarn. Technically, my workday had ended, but that didn’t mean I would just leave. My attitude was to take care of what needed to be done, whether I was on the clock or not.

  “I know we’ve all been busy. It doesn’t matter why you didn’t tell me before. I want the details now.” She had taken out a yellow pot holder she was close to finishing, but looked up at me to make direct eye contact. “Was it a cushion or a body?”

  “You know me too well. I went light on the details with the group. I figured keeping it simple would make it more likely they wouldn’t mention anything when Cheyenne was around. How about we play the Sherlock Holmes game? I’ll tell you what happened and we can put our heads together from there and see what we can deduce.”

  “Oh, goody,” Dinah said, her face lighting up. She set down her crocheting and gave me her full attention. With the Sherlock Holmes game, as we called it, all the information had to be out there, so I began by explaining changing the floodlight bulb.

  “When the light came on, I saw that it shone into the yard behind me. That’s when I noticed something on the ground.” I relived the moment in my mind. “It was long and it appeared blue in the dim light. My immediate thought was that it was a person and the person wasn’t moving.”

  “You know,” Dinah said, “there’s something in human nature where we put together random things and see faces and people. There always seems to be someone claiming to see some religious figure in the bark on a tree.”

  “I know, but this wasn’t like that. I can’t say why, but it looked like a person.”

  “And then you called Barry?” Dinah asked.

  “Yes, but it took a lot of doing to get him to come check it out after what happened the first time I got him to go there.” I laughed to myself. “You know how the group was saying things go in threes when they were talking about your and Adele’s weddings? Well, I don’t think there is a chance in the world that Barry would go there a third time no matter what I claim to have seen.”

  “But what happened when Barry went over there that time?” Dinah asked.

  “Nothing. He said the nanny, Jennifer, was there, and that Cheyenne and her husband were at a taping. He spoke to them—no, he said he spoke to Garrett on the phone because Cheyenne was in the middle of taping that show she’s a judge on.” I thought for a moment. “He said he had a look around the place and everything seemed fine. The kids were asleep.”

  “Where did the chaise cushion come in?” Dinah asked.

  “I guess Barry said a neighbor reported seeing someone lying in the yard, and she showed him the balcony and the empty chaise longue. That must have been when she said the kids were fooling around and had thrown the chaise cushion off the balcony. I know he said he had a look around the yard and saw the cushion on the ground.” I told her how he’d rescued my evidence bag.

  “That was sweet,” she said. “He was trying to protect you.”

  I shrugged it off. I wasn’t sure if it had been a gallant act, or if he had been worried I might go back in the yard searching for it. “So, that’s what Barry saw. But there’s more,” I said, pausing before I got to the important part. “I went out there after Barry left and checked. There was a yellow chaise cushion on the ground, but when I lifted it up, I found traces of blood.”

  “You really found traces of blood?” Dinah sounded incredulous. “How did you do it?”

  As I explained using the Blood Detector that came in the set my son had given me, she chuckled. “Peter must be so upset he gave you that set.”

  “There’s an understatement. He was upset when I started taking fingerprints at the party. I can only imagine how he would react if he knew it included a bottle of liquid that makes blood glow blue in the dark.”

  “Did you tell Barry about that?” Dinah asked.

  “Are you kidding? I would have had to tell him I snuck into the yard when he specifically told me not to, and I can just imagine what he’d say if I explained the stuff I used from the kit.”
r />   “Too bad, because he could have his people see if they could find traces of blood,” Dinah offered.

  “It’s all gone now.” I explained about the workmen being back in the yard. “Not only could I not tell where the cushion had been but they’d been washing the whole area down.”

  “What do you think happened to the cushion?” Dinah asked.

  “I didn’t consider that. It’s probably back on the chaise up on the balcony.”

  Dinah looked at me hopefully. “I think Sherlock would deduce that if there were traces of blood under the cushion, there are probably some on the bottom of the cushion as well.”

  “So all I have to do is somehow get on the balcony and spritz stuff on the bottom of all the cushions and see what happens. And then tell Barry.” We both laughed at the chances of any of that happening.

  “If it’s any consolation, I believe you saw a body. But I’m going to have to hang up my deerslayer hat for now.” Dinah was looking toward the front of the store. Commander had just walked in and waved at her. He practically glowed when she waved back. She sighed as she pushed back her chair. “It’s crazy that it’s so hard for me to get used to someone being so happy to see me.” She gave me a hug. “I know you want to prove to Barry that you’re right about what you saw, but I think you might have to give up on this one. How can you find a body when you don’t even know who you’re looking for? Even Sherlock Holmes would have a hard time with that.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Good, you’re still here,” Joshua Royal said, coming into the yarn department. He was holding several of the vinyl records. “I think we should use the album covers in the signs we put up.” He held one out for me to see. The artwork showed up much better on the large cardboard squares than it did on a small CD case. It was ChIlLa’s latest. It was funny looking at the picture now that I’d met them. The background was a bluff overlooking the ocean. Cheyenne was in the middle, a step ahead of her sisters. They were all dressed in different styles. Cheyenne wore a long, conservative dress, Ilona had a hippie look going, and Lauren was all wild child, with a short dress and kooky wig. The album was titled Next Step.

  “It’s too bad it didn’t sell like their first one,” Mr. Royal said.

  “I didn’t realize you were so into music,” I said. I’d barely said it when I realized how ridiculous a statement it was. The music department was his baby, so of course he’d be knowledgeable about what was going on in the business.

  “They’ve got one more chance with their next album. If it flops, they’ll be filed away as one-hit wonders.” He didn’t say anything when he held out the next album. It was the compilation of hits that the She La Las were on. It seemed like most of the groups had only had a couple hits at most. The cover was a collage of photos from the sixties. The artwork was so small on the CD case that if I squinted I could make out my mother’s group, but on the full-size album, I could actually see the three women in their white boots and short dresses.

  “It was another time when the She La Las’ song came out. It was mostly about singles and whether or not it was good to dance to,” Joshua said with a smile. “It must be strange to see your mother as a pop star.”

  “That’s the truth. She’s a real force of nature. But I’m happy that she is having a second chance at her career. And thank you for letting her perform here.”

  “You have no idea how I’m looking forward to our musical evening,” he said. He showed me some copy he’d written and a drawing of how he thought we should lay out the poster.

  We discussed where to put the signs to get the most attention. Then he looked at his watch. “Didn’t you clock out a long time ago?” he said.

  “Yes, actually I did.”

  “I’ll take care of bringing everything to the printer. You go on home. Both Pamela and I know you put in far more hours than we pay you for. We all need some R and R if we’re going to keep this place going.”

  It only took me a minute to grab my things and wish him a good night, and then I was out the door.

  Now that it was April, the days had gotten longer, but it still always seemed to be dark when I left work. The sidewalk was shrouded in shadow as I started down the street. I didn’t see the man step out from behind one of the olive trees that grew along the street until he had grabbed my arm. I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline as I started to resist and gathered my breath up to scream.

  “Sunshine, it’s me,” Mason said as I was about to jab him with my elbow.

  “What?” I squealed, feeling all shaky from the flood of fight-or-flight hormones. He was illuminated by the streetlight and I registered who he was—or, more correctly, that he wasn’t a threat—and relaxed my arms. “What are you doing here?”

  Mason chuckled. “You don’t sound very happy to see me.”

  “It would help if I hadn’t thought you were a mugger,” I said.

  “I finished up a day early and dashed to the airport. I got the last seat on the next flight out. I tried to call you.” He didn’t have to say more. I was getting better, but I still missed more calls and texts than I answered. “I thought I’d just come here and surprise you.” He grinned and put his arm around my shoulder. “I didn’t realize how dangerous it would be.”

  We started to walk down to the corner. “I hope you don’t have some big plans for tonight,” he said. “I thought we could stop by my place. I’ll drop off my bag, check on everything, and change clothes. Then we could grab some dinner. How does that sound?”

  “Great. I have so much to tell you,” I said. He knew nothing about what had gone on at Cheyenne’s. I hadn’t even brought up the first time I sent the cops there. Between the way it had turned out and Barry making a late-night visit to my house, it had seemed better to let it go. But now everything had changed.

  “All good, I hope,” he said in a cheery voice. “You’re not going to tell me someone died, are you?” He said it in a joking tone, but even so, I swallowed hard, since he had touched on the truth.

  “So you’re a mind reader now,” I joked, trying to keep the mood light.

  Mason turned toward me with a start. “What? Somebody really did die?”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that,” I said. We had reached the corner and turned onto a side street to walk toward the parking lot that ran along the back of the stores that faced Ventura Boulevard.

  “Well?” he said, urging me to continue.

  “This is the kind of story where we need to be situated somewhere before I start.” There was just no way I could explain the whole thing in a few sentences.

  Mason started to walk faster. “I can’t wait to hear.”

  We decided to leave my car in the parking lot, and we both climbed into his black Mercedes SUV. He tried to get me to start talking during the drive to his house, but I held out. I wanted to tell him everything without being interrupted.

  Mason’s dark wood ranch-style house was on a street north of Ventura Boulevard in Encino. Most of the large houses that lined the street were hidden behind tall fences. His was on a corner and had only a short fence marking off the beautifully landscaped front yard. Spotlights illuminated the trees that sat atop the slopes on either side of the walkway. “We’ll go in the front door,” he said, leading the way. He didn’t have to explain. He didn’t want to start a panic by coming in through the yard. Before we got to the door, there was the yippy sound of barking.

  “Spike already knows you’re here,” I said.

  “He recognizes the sound of the car,” Mason said, sounding pleased as he took out his keys. I took it as a high compliment that Mason had come to see me before stopping to see the toy fox terrier. Mason adored the little dog, and I knew he had worried about leaving him home with his ex and daughter.

  Mason had no sooner opened the door than the black-and-white dog literally jumped for joy, and when Mason leaned down to greet him, S
pike popped into his arms.

  I heard voices coming from the den and let out a little groan that expressed my dread at meeting up with who they belonged to.

  “You wanted to meet my family,” he reminded me. “I was perfectly happy keeping them separate from my social life.” It was true I had pushed to meet them—well, his daughters, anyway.

  I must have made another face when he said social life, because he rushed to explain that the phrase referred to the women before me. He realized his mistake at saying women and then shook his head with regret. “Whatever I say is coming out wrong. You do know that I feel completely differently about you.”

  “Yes,” I said. Neither of us wanted a commitment like marriage, but we had realized we didn’t just want to be friends with benefits, either. The term we’d come up with was belong to each other.

  We had waited too long to make a move directly to his room and the women came out of the den. “Oh, you’re back, Dad,” Brooklyn said. “Good. I wanted to talk to you.” Her glance moved to me, and there was a subtle downturn to her mouth.

  No doubt whatever she wanted to talk about had something to do with her law school classes. She had dropped her previous career as a media buyer and decided to follow in Mason’s footsteps and become a lawyer. He was so pleased about her plan that I hadn’t said a word when she’d wanted to stay at his place while she went to school. Not that it was really my business anyway.

  Having his ex-wife living there as well was a whole other issue, though not really my affair, either. Jaimee stood next to her daughter and looked at us.

  “I hope you appreciate what a chore it was taking care of your dog. All he did was whine while you were gone,” Jaimee said. It was no secret that she didn’t like Spike, and the feeling was mutual.