Before he could finish, I stepped in. “Shut up,” I shouted at him. “You should have been grateful to have a girlfriend like Adele. She’s one of a kind and special. You’re not good enough to kiss the hem of her colorful clothes.”
William snarled at all of us before being led away.
A SHORT TIME LATER, DINAH, RYDER, ADELE AND I were sitting on the curb outside the terminal. The message about the area being set aside for loading and unloading kept playing, but we didn’t care. We all needed to regroup.
“Did you really mean all that, Pink?” Adele said, leaning against my side.
I had to ask myself the same question. Yes, I did mean it, particularly the part about her being one of kind. Nobody could argue with that.
“I didn’t want to listen to you, Pink,” Adele said. “But when I went to get his carry-on out of the backseat, I finally checked his ticket and saw that he was only changing planes in Miami for one to Geneva. His passport was there, too. When I realized everything he’d said to me was probably a lie, I got angry.”
“How’d you plant the gun on him?” I asked.
“It isn’t real,” she said, reminding me of the kid who’d brought the cap gun to story time and how I’d made her stick it in her car. “I found it under the seat of the car. I made a big deal of saying good-bye to him and insisted on him taking the vampire scarf I made for him. I had wrapped the gun in it and when I tried to stuff the scarf in his pocket, put the gun in instead. Then I said it was better to put the scarf around his neck. I was so smooth, he didn’t know what was going on,” she said, beginning to turn back into the Adele we all knew and were annoyed by.
A black Crown Victoria pulled up as we were sitting there and Detective Heather got out.
“You came,” I said, surprised. “How’d you find us?”
“I just followed the ruckus,” she said, rolling her eyes.
They wouldn’t have been able to hold William for long since the gun was a toy, but Detective Heather was able to look in his carry-on and found the afghan. There were traces of blood and no doubt tests would confirm it was Bradley’s. She figured the knife was probably hidden someplace at William’s, which she’d find when she got a search warrant.
We all had to go back to the station to give our statements. To my surprise Detective Heather even mumbled a thank-you for what my friends and I had done to stop him. That was as far as she went, though. She didn’t mention that me and my friends basically solved the whole thing for her.
Then Detective Heather did something else, which totally surprised me. She didn’t say anything in explanation, but she let me watch her question William. I suppose it was her way of showing off what she could do.
I didn’t get to sit in one of those rooms with the window that looks like a mirror on one side like you see on TV. I had to watch on a grainy monitor with a bunch of her colleagues just outside the interview room.
I thought for sure William would clam up and ask for a lawyer as soon as she read him his Miranda rights. But no, William insisted it was all a misunderstanding and he was sure once she understood everything, she’d let him go. Detective Heather never did get a chance to show off her skill at interrogating. In fact, she barely got a word in. William insisted he wasn’t like the others who invested money with Bradley. “I wasn’t after fancy cars or mansions. I was going to use the profit to devote myself full time to the Koo Koo book series and the legacy I would be creating.
“Bradley Perkins not only stole my money, he stole my dream,” William said, looking Detective Heather right in the eye. “I’d committed to buying a house, and set up the perfect writer’s studio for myself.”
But when he had told Bradley he wanted to cash out, Bradley had stalled him. William had become more insistent. He needed the money to pay for the house and he’d given notice at his job. Finally William became suspicious and called the SEC and instigated an investigation.
“I believed Bradley had killed himself at first. If it was true he’d lost everybody’s money and the SEC was after him, it made sense. But then I overheard things at the bookstore and began to think Bradley had faked the whole thing. It made me wonder if he’d really lost all the money after all.” By chance William said he’d been paying attention when Adele was ranting about the afghan pattern and when he heard Emily demanding it back at the holiday event, he figured there was more to it than crochet. It had taken a little while, but he’d figured out what was hidden in the afghan. The problem was Adele had changed the tassels and messed with the numbers of flowers, so that there was no way he could get the correct sequence of numbers.
“All I wanted was the money he owed me,” William insisted. He’d been in the bookstore when we’d been following Emily. Adele was glad to tell him about all our theories and crazy sleuthing. He’d realized we might know something and followed us. He’d been planning to ride his mountain bike anyway and it was in a rack on his car.
As he said that, I remembered that when I’d parked behind the bookstore, the car next to me had had a bike in a rack on it. It must have been William’s.
“I passed the three of them and hid in the bushes until I saw where they were headed. I know all the trails up there. It was easy for me to go another way and not be seen. I waited until his wife gave him the crocheted thing and left. I saw Molly Pink and her friend take off. This was my chance; I was going to make a deal with him. I’d keep quiet about everything. All I wanted was what he owed me.”
William claimed he tried to reason with Bradley, but he kept insisting the money was all gone, that he’d lost it gambling. When William tried to grab the afghan, Bradley had pulled out the knife.
“I held on to the afghan and tried to make a run for it. Bradley wouldn’t let go and neither would I. He stepped back and tripped over a branch. When he fell, he pulled me and the afghan with him. He was going to stab me. We struggled over the knife and I got hold of it. I was just defending myself when I stabbed him.”
But that didn’t explain why he’d stabbed Bradley so many times and then left him there to die. And why did he say he was going to Switzerland with the afghan? “I was going to get the money and then share it with all the investors.”
Right. Like any of us believed that. I think William was truly surprised when Detective Heather didn’t agree with him about it all being a misunderstanding and didn’t let him go.
Detective Heather told me William would most likely be charged with second-degree murder and tampering with evidence, but under the circumstance, the incident with the toy gun would probably be let go. Detective Heather said it would be up to a jury to decide whether they believed the self-defense story, but she was betting they wouldn’t.
And was William A. J. Kowalski? No. He really had been planning to write Koo Koo Learns to Crochet. But it looked as though it was more likely he’d be writing Koo Koo Goes to Prison.
Barry was a little awkward when he came by the next day to finally help install my new front door. “What can I say?” he said, looking at me with a sheepish smile in his eyes. “You done good.”
Meanwhile Ryder’s video of the episode at the airport made it to the news, and when he intercut it with William in his clown attire doing the holiday rap, it was number three on the YouTube top ten for the day. He came over just as Barry was finishing the door and, with a flourish, bowed to me.
“M, thank you for letting me ride along.” Then he straightened and asked me if I would explain to his mother why her SUV was gone so long, when he was just supposed to be getting gas for it.
Mr. Royal kept his word and showed me his mountain bike in the bike rack on the back of his Prius. Nicholas came by with a brochure from the bike store. I was glad neither of them knew why I’d wanted to see the bikes.
Emily came across the lawn and thanked me. She wasn’t off the hook exactly. She was still trying to convince everyone that she had no knowledge of Bradley’s fraudulent activities, but it didn’t look like she was going to get charged because the
y didn’t have a case. It seemed likely she would lose the house and she was broke. She had talked to her mother in South Carolina, and as soon as she could, she was going there to try and make a fresh start.
The SEC investigators were embarrassed about not figuring out what Mason and I had about the money not being lost. When the numbers of flowers were written out, they identified the bank and the account number. Word spread quickly among the investors that all was not lost. Not that they’d get the big profits on their investments they’d hoped for, but they’d get back at least a hunk of their original investment. The SEC investigator said what had thrown him off was Bradley’s lifestyle. Most swindlers were flamboyant and lived high. Bradley was the first one they’d encountered who’d been frugal. They figured he looked at the money he was taking as savings for his retirement.
Mrs. Shedd thanked me deeply. She knew her share of the money wouldn’t cover all that she’d borrowed to invest, but she hoped it would cover a lot of it. In the meantime, Mr. Royal was going to keep the bookstore afloat with his own money. It turned out all those years of adventuring, he’d lived very cheaply and banked the rest.
By now Adele was telling everyone that she’d figured there was something fishy with William all along and had really been planning to break up with him.
And then all thoughts turned to the midnight launch party and the unveiling of Tarzana’s own vampire author.
CHAPTER 28
THE NIGHT OF THE BIG EVENT, WE CLOSED THE bookstore at 9 and said we’d reopen at 11 P.M. There were already people gathering, so we junked the idea and unlocked the door. I had the plan down. We gave out different-colored wristbands that corresponded to when their group would get their book signed, then we let them shop. Under the circumstances, Mrs. Shedd had removed the display of the Koo Koo books. Adele was still in shock about William and said she was going to skip the big night, but she showed up anyway, saying she’d come to support me.
“We’re musketeers,” she said, grabbing me. “I couldn’t let my musketeer sister down.” She instantly became lord of the wristbands and corralled the people by the color of their band and started ordering them around.
The parking lot was filled with TV trucks, with their satellite dishes extended. The crowd was overflowing the bookstore. It was cold outside, but nobody seemed to care. The excitement generated warmth. We’d rearranged the café and hired extra help. Some of the people were wearing vampire scarves they’d made from the kits, though by now they were calling them Anthony scarves. Logan had come with Elise. They had put together a bunch of kits, which sold out quickly. The dust hadn’t settled on the whole affair with Bradley, but now that it was clear that Logan hadn’t been in cahoots with Bradley, people were talking to them again. Still it was going to take a long time to regain their trust. In the meantime he had ideas for the vampire-accessory business working with his wife. He wanted to talk to A. J. about endorsing the scarf.
The excitement level kept building and by eleven thirty we’d given out all the wrist bands. Mason had come by, not for a wristband, but because of his curiosity about who the author was. Barry came by, as well.
“Vampire shampire,” Barry said, shaking his head.
“You’re out of touch, Greenberg. Vampires are hot.” Mason smiled and I saw that he’d put on wax fangs.
I had set aside a spot for the Hookers. Maybe it wasn’t fair, but they were part of the bookstore family. And Anthony was a crocheter and so were they. Sheila was the most dressed up I’d ever seen. I was surprised to see Rhoda elbowing through the crowd.
“No way was I going to miss this. Who knows, maybe this A. J. Kowalski looks like Quentin Tarantino,” she said. She looked at Elise with her vampire scarf wound around her neck. “You know that she still thinks A. J. is a real vampire,” Rhoda said. Dinah slipped in and announced that Commander was home with the kids. Instead of her trademark long bright-colored scarves, she was wearing a long vampire scarf. CeeCee and Tony arrived and got caught up with the media people. I noticed some other local actors in the crowd. Most were recognized more from the movies or TV shows they’d been in rather than their names. The media people grabbed them anyway. Mrs. Shedd was watching the whole thing in amazement. Nicholas came over and we let him in the VIP Hookers area. I noticed Sheila’s whole being lit up when she saw him.
“Wow,” he said, admiring the crowd.
We had set up a big clock in the front of the store. It felt like New Year’s Eve as I watched the last five minutes tick down. When it got to the last sixty seconds, the people began chanting the countdown. On the dot of midnight, three plain-sided trucks pulled into the parking lot followed by a stretch limo. The trucks stopped in front of the bookstore and the drivers and their help rolled up the back, loaded their dollies with boxes and began to wheel them in. Mr. Royal used his knife to cut them open and we began handing out books and taking payment.
A few minutes ticked by and everyone kept looking toward the limo parked out front. At last the door opened and a woman stepped out. All heads craned in her direction. A man got out after her and they came in the bookstore. A writing team? I’d never seen either of them before but I pushed through the crowd to get to them and lead them to the platform.
I introduced myself and thanked them for coming and took them up the steps.
“I hope you have a pen,” I said in a joking manner. They looked at each other and then at me. When they finally introduced themselves it turned out they were the publicists the publisher had sent.
“Where’s A. J. Kowalski?” I said. The door to the bookstore opened and Eduardo walked in. A surprised gasp went through the crowd and he seemed confused. Then he got it.
“Hey, folks, it’s not me.”
We had the first group ready to file past the author, but no author for them to file past. Mrs. Shedd gave me a dark look. Could she think this was my fault? I looked skyward. “Please, A. J., wherever you are, please show up.” I felt movement in the people next to me and the crowd parted as someone walked through toward the platform.
Nicholas!
Eduardo gave him a high-five as he passed and Sheila’s mouth fell open. The media people with their cameras focused on him and stuck microphones in his face. Questions came from everywhere. He looked overwhelmed for a moment, then the Nicholas we knew clicked in and he was all charm, explaining why he’d never revealed his identity until now. At first it was because he didn’t know how the books would do and if the first one bombed no one would know he’d written it. And when the books took off, the mystery of who he was caught on and he’d let it be. But now he felt it was only fair to the fans to let them know who he was. I’d heard parts of the story before, about how he’d worked in advertising, but it never felt like his passion. When he got divorced, he decided to take a chance and become authentic. The store and the vampire books were always a dream and he’d made both come true. He wrote at night in the store. What better time to write a vampire book? The crowd ate it up.
He seemed suddenly shy and waved to the crowd. He held up a copy of his marked-up manuscript as proof of who he was. Elise got to be first in the line. She held the book to her heart after he signed it and gave him one of the scarves, pointing out the vampire features. He laughed and thanked her. Sheila was right behind. She struggled to say something, but nothing came out. With a warm smile, Nicholas told her to relax. He was just the same person she’d known all along. He signed her book and hugged her. Then everything fell into place and the lines started moving. Nicholas was wonderful. He talked to each person as he signed their book.
It was the first time we’d ever kept the bookstore open all night. The agreement was that he would sign copies of just the new book, but when we ran out and there were still people left he signed copies of the first two books in the series. He signed vampire scarves, pieces of paper, coffee cups, whatever, until the last person in line was satisfied.
“Luxe won’t be open today,” he said, putting his head down on the table as dawn
was peeking through the big windows that faced Ventura.
I asked about the mysterious back room and he laughed. “I can show it to you now.”
He took me down the hall that led to the back exit. On one side there was a door that opened on the space behind the store. His desk and computer were in the middle of the large room. Along with a table full of yarn and partially done projects, there was a coffin, though a Hollywood prop sort of thing. One wall was covered in pictures he said acted as his inspiration. He had an easy chair with a lamp on one side and a table stacked with books he used for references. It was the antithesis of the stylish store. “My creative den,” he said with a flourish. Eduardo came in and Nicholas gave him a man hug and thanked him again. Eduardo was his crochet consultant.
One thing did seem a little strange. The kitchen area in the corner appeared as though it was never used. When I looked inside the small refrigerator, it was empty except for a carafe of scarlet liquid. Tomato juice, perhaps?
EVERYBODY RECOVERED FROM THE ALL-NIGHT SESSION at Shedd & Royal. The event showed up on newscasts as far away as Australia. The last few days before Christmas went by in a flurry of vampire fans who wanted to buy an Anthony book from the store where the author shopped and last-minute shoppers who just wanted to buy something for the people still on their list.
And then it was the night before Christmas and all through my house there was lots going on, but thankfully not a mouse. For the first time since Charlie died I’d reinstated our traditional holiday party. I felt a tear well up as I looked around at all the people I had in my life. The dining room table was full of food, with everything from blintzes and potato pancakes to lasagna and salad and my showstopper stained glass cookies.
“Dear, these are almost too pretty to eat,” CeeCee said, holding up the cookie so the light shone through the windowlike red candy center. “But just almost.” She popped the buttery cookie in her mouth. She and Tony had just come from dropping off our crocheted gifts at the shelter. It had been an emotional experience. “Molly, I felt like I was the one getting the gifts,” she said. “To see how much the packages meant to them and the fact that we’d taken the time to make something for them ...” Just telling me made her eyes well up and made her reach for another cookie for sustenance.
Prime Crime Holiday Bundle Page 148
