Behind the Seams cm-6

by Betty Hechtman

  CeeCee sat forward suddenly. “I know where I saw a doll like it before.”

  Adele interrupted CeeCee’s thought as she stood next to the table. “Where’d the doll come from?”

  We all ignored her as I cajoled CeeCee into continuing. “It was a sale we had for Hearts and Barks. All the things were made by celebrities. You know how that can jack up the price we get.”

  “That was made by a celebrity crocheter?” Adele said, her voice quaking with excitement. “Who? We have to get her to join us. Nothing personal, CeeCee, but I knew you couldn’t be the only other celebrity crocheter besides Vanna White.”

  We all looked at CeeCee expectantly, waiting for the name, though for different reasons. I was looking for clues into Robyn’s life and Adele was after publicity.

  CeeCee said she didn’t know offhand and would have to ask around the charity group. She picked up her drink and then set it down with distaste. “I think my cappuccino needs some sweetener.”

  I volunteered to get it for her. When I went behind the counter, I saw the box of Nature’s Sweetie that Bob had bought for Robyn. I grabbed a packet and asked if it was okay if I gave it to CeeCee.

  Bob gave me the go-ahead and said I might as well leave the box on the counter. Just as I was about to hand it to CeeCee, out of left field, D. J. came bolting over from his computer and grabbed it, yelling, “Don’t!”

  I let go at the same time he did and the packet fell to the floor. Before I could retrieve it, the author had picked it up by the tiniest edge. He dropped it on the table and told all of us to stay away. Then he brought over his laptop and pointed out the news story he was reading. In big letters, it said, “Nature’s Sweetie Recalled After Another Tainted Box Found.”

  CHAPTER 21

  I’M NOT SURE WHOSE IDEA IT WAS TO CALL 911. WE could have just taken the box back to Crown Apothecary where Bob got it. It wasn’t like it was going to blow up or anything. As long as nobody used it, it seemed like we would be safe.

  Three cop cars squealed to a stop in front of the café and two officers came in, guns drawn, and ordered us all to freeze. Okay, I also don’t know what whoever called had said, either.

  When Bob pointed with his head and said, “It’s over there,” and they saw that it was a pyramid-shaped sweetener packet in the middle of the table, the two serious-faced uniforms cracked a smile.

  The arrival of the police brought a sudden surge of attention to the café. I think the fact the cruisers had their lights and sirens on had something to do with it.

  The extra officers held back the lookie-loos who’d drifted in from the bookstore, while D. J. explained the problem with the box of Nature’s Sweetie by showing one of the uniforms his computer screen.

  The cops did a bunch of conferring by radio. The lookie-loos left after a few minutes once they saw the source of all the action and realized they couldn’t even order a drink. Mrs. Shedd and Mr. Royal came in and had to fight through the exiting crowd like fish swimming upriver.

  A police supervisor showed up after a while and looked over the situation. She, in turn, put in a call to somebody else. That’s when things got really strange. She decided they should move everybody outside and hustled us out the door. Not even the cops stayed inside.

  An awkward-looking black truck rumbled in front of the cop cars and parked directly in line with the café. I waited to see who was going to get out. After what seemed like forever, two people exited the truck. I say people because no way could I tell if they were men or women, or one of each. They were totally suited up in white space suits complete with their own air supply. They didn’t so much walk in as lumber. One of the cops stood at the glass door and pointed out the packet of sweetener and the box on the counter. The suited-up pair went inside, and I watched as one of them picked up the packet and the other the box. Once the packet was back in the box, they lumbered back to the door and onto their reinforced truck.

  One of the officer’s radios squawked and he bent his ear toward it. “Okay, folks, we have an all clear, you can go back in.”

  Mr. Royal pulled me over. “Do something. The last thing we want is for people to connect the café with people in hazmat suits.” I saw his point. Everyone had sort of stunned expression and seemed reticent about going back inside.

  The obvious answer was to give something away. Nothing like free stuff to cheer people up. I found Bob and the three of us worked it out. Bob and I went on inside, and Mr. Royal apologized to the crowd and said we’d be giving out free party drinks to make up for it.

  “Wait for me,” Adele called, threading through the people until she caught up with us. We worked out an assembly line. Bob manned the blenders. I poured the drinks into small cups, Adele did whipped cream and set them out on the counter. Dinah stepped in and handled crowd control. CeeCee was our first customer. She seemed a little unnerved by what had just happened.

  “That’s it. From now on, it’s only real sugar for me.”

  Finally Bob made drinks for us and seconds for CeeCee, and we all collapsed around one of the tables. D. J. pulled up a chair and joined us. The doll was still laying on the table and I went to pick it up. CeeCee sucked the last of her drink through a straw and got my attention.

  “I made a few calls while we were stuck outside. I described the doll, and one of the Hearts and Barks directors remembered it. More than remembered it; she’d bought it for her granddaughter. When she told me who’d donated it, I was surprised I hadn’t remembered myself. Ariel Rose made it. Get it?” CeeCee said, pointing to the rosebud on the underpants.

  Adele reacted first. “Ariel Rose,” she repeated in a loud voice. “The Ariel Rose. She crochets. Wow, we’ve hit the jackpot.” The donation was from several years earlier before Ariel Rose had become the current it girl. Since then she’d been in a rash of romantic comedies—Always the Bride, Penny and the Spy, The Girl with the Zirconium Tiara and Hearts and Harriet.

  D. J. listened with a confused expression. Dinah was sitting next to him and told him the whole story of the doll in the garbage and why we were so interested in it.

  “Pretty clever,” he said. “Also pretty interesting. It doesn’t exactly go with the image I got of that producer. She seemed all aggressive-career-woman to me.”

  Bob pulled a chair up and joined us. “It looks like Robyn was just what they call collateral damage. Someone is out to discredit Nature’s Sweetie. The whole pitch for the product is how it has almost no calories but is safe and natural. You think anybody is going to want to buy it now?”

  “That’s wonderful news,” CeeCee said and stopped herself. “Dear, that came out wrong. It’s not wonderful news that nobody is going to buy that sweetener. It’s wonderful news that as soon as the dust settles, I’m sure they’ll give Nell her job back.”

  Now that Adele had heard that Ariel Rose crocheted, she said we had to meet her and talk her into being a cheerleader for the yarn art. “Just think of it, if she wore a little caplet over her evening gown on her next red carpet event and said she’d made it.”

  “Hold on, dear,” CeeCee said to Adele. “If Nell is not on the hot seat anymore, the whole investigation is over with. It doesn’t matter about the dolls.”

  “Here’s something weird,” I said. “This doll is obviously from when Robyn was a small child. Ariel Rose is in her late twenties and can’t be more than a few years older than Robyn. Unless she was some kind of child prodigy in the crochet department, it seems a little odd. Are you sure the doll in the past sale and this doll were made by the same person?”

  “I know my crochet,” CeeCee said, “and the underpants with the rosebud is like a signature. Plus you said there was the surface crochet markings on the bottom of the shoe, and the person I spoke to said there were yarn squiggles on her doll, too.”

  “I think we should talk to her. Even if we’re not investigating Robyn’s murder anymore, I’m really curious about how Ariel, the crochet items and Robyn are all related. Besides it feels a little anticl
imactic to just drop everything.”

  “If anybody is going to talk to her, it should be me. We talk the same language, besides I’d like to get her involved with Hearts and Barks again,” CeeCee said. “And Molly should go with me. She’s the professional here.” Adele’s eyes bugged out in response to the comment.

  “I’m as much as a professional as Molly Poirot Pink is,” Adele protested.

  “Let me see if I can put something together,” CeeCee said, pulling out her cell phone. I knew where she was headed. She’d call her agent and publicist, who in turn would get in touch with Ariel’s agent and publicist and try to set something up.

  People outside the entertainment industry thought everyone knew each other, but it was far from true. Personally I thought the idea of setting something up would never work out, or if it did, it would take too long for it to happen.

  “I think we should find out where she’s going to be and just show up,” I said.

  “We can’t ambush her,” CeeCee said. “Then she’d never agree to help out with Hearts and Barks or even talk to us. Let me think about it.”

  I stepped away from the table and called Mason. Really for two reasons. To see if he knew how we could get in touch with Ariel Rose and to find out if he could get a name to go with the license plate number I’d gotten. Even if the investigation was technically over, I still wondered who Robyn’s boyfriend was. I got his office, and instead of being put through, his assistant came back on the line and said Mason was tied up and offered to take a message.

  By the time I went home for the day, I still hadn’t heard back from Mason.

  In the meantime, I found another way to get to Ariel Rose. It happened by chance. Dinah and I had arranged to have a girl’s night out. It seemed like it had been forever since the two of us had an evening together. I made a brief stop home to take care of the animals, but it turned out to be unnecessary. Barry was working on the shelves and Jeffrey was in the den doing his homework. They had let the dogs out and fed them and the cats.

  “Trouble sure follows you. I heard there was some excitement at the bookstore,” Barry said. He hadn’t changed out of his work clothes, which meant that he was probably expecting to leave. He’d merely taken off his tie and jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. “So, CeeCee’s niece should be off the hook,” he said. I asked what he knew and he gladly shared this time because he thought it would end my skulking around.

  “The crime lab found several packets in the box from the bookstore café that appeared to have been opened and glued shut. It was like playing Russian roulette with sugar substitute. Lucky Bob didn’t put the sweetener out sooner.” I shuddered when he said this, remembering that Bob had offered me a packet. I’d almost been curious enough to try it.

  “The packets looked just like what they found in Robyn Freed’s desk drawer and the box that somebody brought into the Van Nuys station. There was a note inside of that one from someone who seemed to have a beef with the product. They said all their claims were lies.” He explained they were all at the crime lab being checked for cyanide, but everybody seemed confident that it would be the same in all of them. “Then they’ll look for trace evidence that occurs in all three boxes and hope it connects them to somebody. So you see your work is all done.” I didn’t say anything, but until Nell was in the clear and actually had her job back, I wasn’t considering this case closed.

  I asked him who had brought the box of sweetener to the Van Nuys station.

  “It doesn’t matter,” Barry said, turning back to his work. I stared at his back as he went back to filling in the nail holes. Did he really think I would accept that answer?

  “It does matter, a lot,” I said. Barry went on with his work. I saw his shoulders drop just a little, a subtle indication that he’d figured out I wasn’t going to let it go.

  “Molly, I can’t tell you. Heather doesn’t want the information to get out.” He put down the can of wood filler and his tool and held both my shoulders in a tender manner. “Telling you would get us both in trouble.” The look in his eyes made it clear that was all the information I was going to get. He took his jacket off the back of the dining room chair and put it on before slipping his still knotted tie over his head and tightening it. He looked at me and cocked his head. Ever the detective, he noticed that I still had my purse in my hand.

  “I just stopped here to take care of the animals. I’m going out.” I was going to leave it at that but realized it sounded kind of short, and it wasn’t like I had anything to hide. I mentioned meeting Dinah for a girl’s night out. He called to Jeffrey and said he’d drop him off at home, and the three of us walked out together.

  I let him pull out first and then drove over to Dinah’s. She had the door open before I even walked up the few steps to her front porch.

  When I went inside, I was surprised to see Sheila sitting on Dinah’s chartreuse couch. She looked up and smiled at me. Her new job at the lifestyle store next to the bookstore had done wonders for her confidence and made it possible for her to have just one job rather than several.

  She was so happy with the job, she gladly spent her evenings at the store. It seemed like forever since the three of us had gone out together. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Sheila to join us,” Dinah said.

  “Mind? I’m glad you did.” I went over and hugged Sheila. She looked really good. The owner of Luxe had her wearing pieces from the store. Tonight she had on a peasant blouse with apricot-colored flowers embroidered on it over skinny black jeans and boots. “It’ll be great to catch up with each other.” Dinah and Sheila got ready to go. I pulled out my cell phone to see if I’d missed any calls. There was nothing. How odd that Mason still hadn’t called back.

  We went to an Italian restaurant on Ventura Boulevard that had a patio surrounded by trees and illuminated by a string of globe-shaped lights. Even though it was practically on the sidewalk, it seemed like a separate world.

  We ordered pasta dishes, salad and garlic bread. Sheila said she was doing better in the nerve department, but she still carried her emergency crochet hook and string. She pulled it out to show us. But working in the store had made such a difference for her. She started chatting on about the customers and how they’d begun to get some celebrity clientele. She’d talked to her boss about putting up photos of their well-known clients, which was common practice. Every restaurant and dog groomer had pictures of some of their famous customers posted on the wall.

  Our food came, and since it was served family-style, we began to pass around the plates as Sheila continued. “I told Nicholas that if we were going to have photos, they ought to be unique rather than just head shots.” Sheila smiled broadly. Whenever she spoke about her boss, her face seemed to brighten, and we all thought she had a thing for him, though she denied it. “He listened to what I said and he agreed. So now when someone famous comes in, I take a digital picture of them with whatever they bought. Instead of hanging the photos on the wall, we put them in frames we have for sale and spread them around the store.”

  Dinah complimented her on the idea and started talking about her students and getting ready for finals, but then went off into talking about Commander. “This probably sounds stupid, but he’s so nice to me, it’s making me nervous.” My normally chipper friend hung her head. “He’s making all kinds of plans for the summer.”

  “Don’t you like what he’s planning?” Sheila asked.

  “It’s not what he’s planning that’s the problem. All the things are lots of fun and help people. He has us volunteering at the next Hearts and Barks carnival.” She handed me the pasta in pomodoro sauce. “You should understand,” she said to me. “Look how upset you are that Barry wants you to move to Simi Valley when you get married.”

  “Married?” Sheila said. “You’re getting married?” She knew about the ring in the drawer and my lack of an answer.

  “I’m not getting married,” I protested.

  “Sorry,” Dinah said. “I
should have said if you get married. But Barry is almost living at your house.” She explained the condo concept to Sheila.

  “It sounds to me like he’s trying to take you away from your old life,” Sheila said.

  As much as I was against the condo idea, I found myself defending Barry. I argued that he wanted us to have a place that was fresh for both of us. And Simi Valley was more affordable. “With Barry’s ego and all, he wants to buy the place.” I made excuses, but what Sheila had said registered. I didn’t want to think it was true.

  The pasta was delicious, and when they brought the dessert menu, we ordered a chocolate soufflé and shared it. Sheila had seen the cop cars and hazmat team and heard some vague details but wanted the whole story. She shuddered when I told her about the Nature’s Sweetie problems. “You know we sell coffee and teas. We almost were going to sell that sweetener as well. I’m glad now we didn’t. So what’s the next step for you?” she asked.

  “Barry thinks I should drop it, but then he never thinks I should investigate anything. But he said now that it seems the problem is with the sweetener rather than Robyn being a target, Nell should be exonerated and get her job back. But it feels strange to me.” I mentioned the no-name boyfriend who’d been cut out of the pictures, and the crocheted items that seemed at odds with the kind of person she was. Then I brought up the doll and how CeeCee was sure that this actress had made it, and I explained why it didn’t make sense. “The doll is definitely old and been through a childhood. If Ariel Rose made it—”

  “Ariel Rose?” Sheila said. “She’s been in the store. I just took her picture. She has young kids and she likes it because we have the whole kids’ area.”

  “She does?” I said. Far better than anything CeeCee could set up would be just running into Ariel and starting up a conversation. I asked Sheila if she had any idea when she’d be in the store again.

  “How about she’s going to be there tomorrow afternoon,” Sheila said with a smile. “She ordered some hand-painted cereal bowls and is coming in to pick them up.” We finished our dessert and coffee. Sheila insisted on picking up the check and said it was her thank-you for all the times we’d taken her out.