Hooking for Trouble

by Betty Hechtman

  “I wasn’t going to say that,” Barry said, still in the friendly voice. “It was dark, and I can see how you might have thought the cushion was a person. And since cushions don’t move, it certainly would have seemed to be dead.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying that it had been a person and bringing up the traces of blood that I’d found—but that were now probably gone, too.

  “But don’t you think it was strange that Jennifer Clarkson left right after you went there?”

  Barry put on his cop face, which meant that I had touched a nerve. “Jennifer Clarkson? Is that the nanny?” I nodded. “I didn’t file a report, since there was nothing to report, and I guess I forgot her name.”

  “If you’re not sure who you talked to, what did she look like?”

  “Molly,” Barry said in a warning voice. “I’m a homicide detective. I know who I talked to. She had long blond hair, and it was hard to gauge her age. The jeans and hoodie made her look like a teenager. And I’m sure she said she was the nanny. What do you mean she left?”

  “Just that she had a family emergency. She must have taken off right after you were over there.”

  He was concerned that she’d abandoned the children, but I explained that she’d gotten the service to send an immediate replacement.

  “How is it that you know all this?” he asked with concern in his voice. He seemed to relax when I told him I’d overheard Cheyenne talking. I certainly wasn’t going to mention talking to Jennifer Clarkson. He thought it over briefly. “I don’t see any reason for me to follow up on her leaving, since we all agreed that you were having a Rear Window moment,” he said, referring to the Alfred Hitchcock movie.

  All agreed? It seemed to me that the only one who had agreed was him, but I kept that to myself. He glanced at the yard through the large pair of windows at the back of the kitchen. The floodlight I had replaced illuminated the middle of the yard, where Jeffrey was playing fetch with the dogs, but then there was just darkness near the garage where the two burned-out bulbs were.

  Of course, Barry noticed the dark spot and offered to change the bulbs, to keep me off the ladder and probably out of snooping into the neighboring yard, but I said I needed to get replacements first. I think he was glad to change the subject, but I wasn’t ready to let it go.

  “So you really don’t think it was strange that the nanny left so suddenly? Maybe you want to check up on her story. You could check a few things like her credit card charges, a shuttle pickup, and maybe the Pacific West flight manifest.”

  Barry’s mouth fell open. “You’re joking, right?” He didn’t wait for my response. “How is it that you know she was picked up by a shuttle and took a Pacific West flight?” He shook his head. “I knew it was too good to be true that you had let go of investigating.” He saw the detective kit sitting on the kitchen table. He started to shift through the contents. He picked up the magnifying glass and laughed. “This is just a set for kids to play detective with and learn about forensics.” He picked up the stack of cards with fingerprints that I’d gathered and the booklet that was with them.

  “Don’t believe that booklet is going to make it so you can match fingerprints, or even get close, unless they have an arch pattern, which is the least common. You do know there is an art to matching fingerprints, right? We narrow them down by computer, but the final match is made by a person.”

  “So you do that?” I said, and he looked caught.

  “No. I was using the big we, not the we including me.” He seemed to want to change the subject. “All I can say, Miss Junior Detective,” he said, looking at the box the set came in, “is that if there was a body, then where is it now?”

  “You have a point there,” I said. “I’ll have to figure that out.”

  “No you won’t. Don’t even say that,” he said with genuine concern. “I don’t want to have to bail you out when you get arrested for stalking your neighbor. Celebrities get pretty testy when they find strangers hanging around their property.”

  I began to take out some things for dinner. I noticed Barry watching me and decided it was time to change the subject.

  “I’m impressed by how you can subdue your hunger,” I said.

  “It’s a by-product of the job,” he said wearily. “I’ve taught myself how to simply ignore feeling tired, and as long as I’m not in the vicinity of food, I don’t even think about eating.”

  “So you just shut off all your feelings?” I asked. I thought about how I still felt something whenever I heard his voice on the phone.

  “It’s about self-preservation,” he said. “If I didn’t keep them under wraps, I’d fall apart every time I had to tell someone their son or husband was dead. They fall apart, but I have to be stoic.” Barry seemed okay with the topic, which surprised me. He’d always brushed off any conversation like this before. “Other guys drink or do things they regret. Me, I just keep it cool.”

  “So, I’m guessing you don’t feel even a tinge of something when you see me.” I hadn’t planned to make it personal, but I couldn’t help myself.

  “No,” he said, looking at me directly. “It’s called accepting what I can’t have.”

  I probably should have let it drop, but it was so far from how I operated, I wanted to understand. “What about with Jeffrey?”

  His emotionless face collapsed in distress. “You hit my Achilles’ heel. It doesn’t work well with kids. Or a dog,” he said, glancing out the window as Cosmo ran across the yard.

  “Have you ever wondered what would happen if you just let loose on all your pushed-down feelings?”

  There was a flicker in his eyes as he considered what I’d said, and then he let out a low laugh.

  “I’m afraid it’s too dangerous, like opening a door that can’t be closed again. The image of an erupting volcano comes to mind, or maybe dropping a lighted match on a pool of gasoline.” His eyes were still on me. And for that moment it seemed that he wasn’t so successful at keeping everything wound up. The flash of emotion in his dark eyes made it seem like the lava might have started to flow. This was suddenly getting too hot for me.

  “Maybe when you retire,” I said, trying to lighten the moment.

  Before he could reply, Jeffrey finally came back inside. I think he’d tried to give Barry and me as much time alone as possible, but he just got too cold. He gave both Cosmo and Felix a last brushing, and then he seemed to be winding things up. Barry never moved from his spot against the counter.

  Jeffrey nudged his father. “We’d better go,” he said. “Remember I have a rehearsal.”

  Jeffrey came and gave me a hug. Barry seemed not quite to know what to do with himself, but I think he wanted to do the same.

  Oh, the complications of life.

  CHAPTER 11

  “Maybe you should have told Barry about finding the traces of blood?” Dinah said. We were in the bookstore café loading up on caffeine before the Tunisian class. Between the evening time slot and the fact it was almost too relaxing, we needed a jolt to make sure we were both alert.

  She knew that Barry had come over with Jeffrey for dog care. She thought it had more to do with his wanting to see me than any father-son thing. Dinah was convinced that his life was a gloomy mess without me. “No matter what he says, he has a soft spot for you. I bet if you cajoled him he’d check it out.”

  I shook my head in reply. “I used up whatever soft spot he had when I got him to go there the second time. I have no proof of the blood to show him. And whatever was there has been washed away.”

  “But you thought there might be some on the cushion,” my friend offered.

  “Might is the key word there, and even if I somehow convinced him to check it out, how would he do it? He couldn’t get a warrant, or even claim probable cause, since no one believes a crime even happened.”

  “You’re right. Forget I even b
rought it up,” Dinah said. “But what about getting him to check up on Jennifer Clarkson?”

  I groaned. “You should have seen the look on his face when I suggested it.” I flipped open the cover on my drink to see how much was left. “I’m going to have to do any investigating on my own until I can show him something that will convince him it wasn’t all my imagination.” I glanced at my phone on the table and smiled. “I just thought of something. I know how to get some information.”

  “How?” Dinah asked.

  “Watch me.” My next move wasn’t quite as instant as I would have liked. It took me a while to find the phone number. “Okay, watch me now,” I said as I tapped in the number.

  There was more delay while I went through numerous menus, pressing keys as I went. Finally, a human person answered. Dinah moved closer, not wanting to miss anything.

  “Hello, this is Jennifer Clarkson. I took one of your airport shuttles Tuesday evening and I think I left a pen in the van. It has great sentimental value to me. It was the last gift from my Aunt Trudy.” Dinah was finding it hard not to laugh. “I wonder if you could check the van and see if it’s there.”

  The woman on the other end had a disinterested voice and said she could turn me over to the lost and found.

  “Thank you so much,” I gushed. “But I already talked to them and it isn’t there. It’s probably still on the floor in the van.”

  The woman finally relented and then asked for the pickup time and address. I was really into it now and almost believed I had an Aunt Trudy and an irreplaceable pen. “It was around nine o’clock. Can’t I just give you the address and you can check your records?”

  “We’re not supposed to do stuff like that. But I guess I could this once,” she said. There was silence, and I imagined her scrolling through a list on a computer screen. “Okay, there you are. We picked you up at 9:14 and dropped you off at Burbank airport. I see the number of the van. When it comes in tonight, I’ll tell them to check it out.”

  She started asking for information on how to reach me, and I panicked, unsure what to tell her. Dinah figured out what was going on, and she seemed at a loss, too. Then it hit me, and I squealed, “The pen just fell out of my bag. Silly me, it was here all along.”

  I clicked off the phone and set it down. “Well, I guess that part of her story was true.” I reminded Dinah that we had thought she was lying because she had given so many details and her sudden departure seemed suspicious. “I think I know how we can check out the rest of it.” I picked up the phone and called Mason’s office number. I loved how they put me right through.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this to start with,” I said to Dinah while I waited for him to come on the line.

  “Sunshine, what can I do for you?” he said in a cheery voice. We hadn’t seen each other since the night he got back. He had come back to a pile of work waiting for him, and I’d been working late hours at the bookstore. We’d talked numerous times on the phone, but it had only been personal stuff, and I hadn’t mentioned Jennifer Clarkson.

  I could be completely honest with him, so I told him all about my phone call with Jennifer and that we thought she wasn’t telling the truth.

  “Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  “I checked out that a van took her to the airport, but I’m wondering if she really went to San Francisco. I know you have all kinds of secret ways to find things out.”

  “I love that you appreciate my craftiness,” he said with a chuckle. “So you want to know if she was actually on a plane.” He asked for the airline and time of day and promised to get back to me.

  We barely had a chance to get a few sips of our drinks before the table began to vibrate and I realized it was my phone. Mason confirmed that Jennifer Clarkson had been on the last Pacific West flight of the night to San Francisco. “And with all the security at the airport, it was definitely her.”

  Dinah and I looked at each other. “Maybe she’s just one of those detailed people and she was telling the truth,” Dinah said.

  “And it was all just a coincidence that her mother got sick the same night that someone died at Cheyenne’s?” It was the first time I had actually said that someone had died. Before, I’d referred to it as a body, which somehow kept it at a distance, but saying that someone had died made it all too real.

  We were both hyper alert from our drinks when the Tunisian class began. We could have probably forgone the caffeine, as the class was hardly relaxing. Susan fussed from the start that Adele should be teaching us more advanced stitches instead of just supervising our work on our multicolored scarves. Adele went into harrumph mode and said that it was a beginners’ class. Oscar jumped out of his dog stroller and took off across the bookstore, which gave Susan new reasons to fuss.

  Lauren continued to work with different yarn than the rest of us, and again Adele warned her that the yarn was going to be tricky to work with.

  Elise, Rhoda and the two-for-one pair of Melody and Terri crocheted in peace. CeeCee seemed a little happier. Mr. Royal had taken several photos of her, and he’d just hung them and had put “Academy Award–Nominated Actress CeeCee Collins” in bold type below them. But her mood changed when Cheyenne made an entrance when the class was halfway over. She definitely beat Adele when it came to a big personality. Cheyenne seemed to send a ripple through the air as she walked through it.

  “I wanted to come so you didn’t think I was skipping, but I can’t stay. I’m doing a cameo on the Life with Lorie Show,” she said, addressing us all. “I’m sure you know who she is. This is like her third reality show. I wish I knew how she did it. All I seem to get are guest spots.” She looked to Lauren. “We ought to get Garrett to pitch a show idea about the three of us.” Cheyenne flipped her hair off her shoulder and went back to talking to the whole group. “I’m supposed to just drop in to wherever they’re taping. Supposedly the public just loves it when celebrities meet other celebrities someplace normal, like a yogurt shop.” Then she pulled open her jacket and showed off the T-shirt she had on underneath. Right in the center was the artwork from ChIlLa’s current album. “They pretty much throw these shows together with just a little editing, so it should begin airing on Monday, and our appearance here isn’t until Thursday.”

  Cheyenne looked around for Mrs. Shedd. “Be sure to tell Mrs. Shedd that I will get some kind of plug in.” Cheyenne turned to me. “And tell your mother I’ll mention that the She La Las are going to be here, too. We girl groups have to stick together.” She looked at her watch and then said she had to hurry. “They’re just going to be there for a few minutes. This isn’t one of those setups where they do things over and over or even have special lighting. They just shoot and move on.”

  She went over and gave Adele a theatrical hug. “Maybe I can make up the class somehow.” She turned to her sister. “C’mon with me.” Lauren shrugged as she quickly put away her things and got up to leave.

  Terri and Melody looked up. “Too bad she couldn’t get Lorie to come here and we could all be on the show.”

  “Then this class would be a complete circus,” Susan snapped.

  * * *

  An hour later I grabbed my coat and things and left the bookstore. What an evening. After the class had ended, Adele had fallen apart with worry that Susan was going to complain about the class to Mrs. Shedd. “And what if Cheyenne says she wants a refund because she missed the first class and left in the middle of this one? Maybe she won’t even come back.

  “My whole world is crumbling,” she wailed. “Pink, what am I going to do?” In her usual overly dramatic manner, she had put the back of her hand to her forehead. She might have looked like some old-time actress in a melodrama, but I still felt for her. As I have said before, Adele was difficult, but like family at the same time. I promised I’d help her work things out.

  “You are my best friend,” she said, grabbing me in a fr
antic hug.

  It was a relief to get outside and away from the drama. Mason and I had agreed to meet at Gelson’s. The plan was we’d buy food and go to my place and cook it together. He was standing outside his SUV when I pulled the greenmobile into the grocery store parking lot.

  He had obviously stopped home first and changed into jeans and a pullover top under a leather jacket. The casual clothes made him look much more approachable than the beautifully tailored suits he wore for work. But no matter how he combed his hair, a lock of it always broke free and dangled over his forehead, somehow making him look earnest and hardworking.

  He greeted me with a warm hug and we went inside the store. It only took a few minutes of us pushing a cart around to change our plan. As appealing as the idea of cooking together was, we both realized it was late and we were impatient to eat. We headed to the prepared food counter and bought poached salmon and a selection of salads, along with a baton of French bread.

  “And now for a peaceful meal,” Mason said as we carried the bags across my backyard. I should have figured something was up by the number of cars parked on the street, but I assumed one of the neighbors had company.

  “Or maybe not,” I said as I opened the kitchen door and heard a bunch of racket. We put the bags down on the counter and went to investigate.

  My mother was supervising as Samuel and one of his friends moved one of the couches across the room. The coffee table had already been pushed against the fireplace. A keyboard had been set up on the side of the room and I saw a microphone stand. Cosmo and Felix were having a field day with all the activity and were jumping on and off the couch as it was moved. As usual my other terrier mix Blondie was absent, and I was sure she was hiding out in my bedroom. She rarely mixed with the other two dogs or anyone else. That was why I called her the Greta Garbo of dogs. Mr. Kitty and Cat were nowhere to be seen and had probably hidden themselves away. I could see their point.