By Hook or by Crook cm-3

by Betty Hechtman

  I raced-walked up the pier and down the stairs. I chose the closest dinghy and got in. I put on the life jacket sitting on the seat, untied the dinghy and began to row. At first the boat went in circles, but then I got the hang of it. A few moments later, the dinghy bumped against the side of the Camille . I tied it up, climbed the ladder and went aboard the boat.

  I called hello a few times but no one answered. I rushed past the table and chairs set up on the open back deck. I half tumbled down the stairs to the galley and began fumbling through the small trash can. I pulled out a paper cup from Le Grande Fromage and stuck it in my bag. I was up the stairs and halfway across the deck when Hunter’s head appeared above the side.

  CHAPTER 30

  “IT’S MOLLY FROM THE BOOKSTORE, ISN’T IT?” he said in a friendly tone as he climbed the rest of the way and stepped onto the boat. “People don’t appreciate it when you borrow their dinghy,” he chided.

  Stay calm, I told myself. Still, my heart was in my throat. “I was walking down Crescent and I saw your boat. I thought Camille was here and came to say hello.”

  He was all friendly charm. With the slightly shaggy black hair streaked with gray and the rimless glasses, he looked like a nice guy. “She didn’t come. I decided to play hooky and take the boat out.”

  “Well, now that I know she’s not here, I’ll just go. I want to get the dinghy back before the owner misses it.” I made a move for the side of the boat, but Hunter put his hand on my arm, stopping me.

  “I don’t know how to thank you for letting Camille join your group. I’ve never seen her so happy. I was just going to open a bottle of wine. We Tarzana expatriates have to stick together. Stay and have a glass.”

  I made a comment about not wanting to miss my boat back, and he glanced toward the empty spot by the dock. “You have plenty of time. It hasn’t even arrived from the mainland yet.” His gaze rested on my tote bag and purse. “What kind of host am I?” he said, taking both items from my arm before I could stop him. “I’ll put this down below until you’re ready to leave.” He tried to unhook the life jacket and take it as well, but I managed to pull away.

  He disappeared down the stairway with my stuff. All my proof was in the tote bag and I wasn’t leaving without it. I considered following him down below and taking my things back, but he was already on his way up with two glasses of wine. He put the glasses on a round filagree doily set in the middle of a small round table.

  “I hope you like pinot noir,” he said, picking up the glass closest to him and taking a sip. He went on about how it came from a small winery near Santa Barbara. “I’d like your opinion on it. I’m thinking of ordering a case.” He gestured toward my glass. I stalled, examining the doily. It was perfect except for a tiny loose stitch next to the glass.

  Although he was completely pleasant, I was sure he had followed me to the island.

  I took a step back from the table and stumbled. He set his glass down quickly and grabbed my arm to steady me. “I’m sure the wine is delicious,” I said. “I just need a minute to get my sea legs.”

  He suggested I sit, but instead I walked to the side of the boat. He was like my shadow he stayed so close.

  His voice had just a hint of impatience as he suggested we go back to our wine. “I don’t want you to miss your boat,” he said. “Or the chance to try the pinot.”

  He again suggested I sit down or at least take off the life jacket. I glanced at the table and told him I was okay.

  “I think I have the hang of standing on the boat now.” I went to take one of the glasses, but he reached first and picked up the one on his right. “Cheers,” I said, taking the other. I just held it, though, and he pressed me to taste it, his tone growing more impatient. I had the feeling if I didn’t start drinking, he was going to pour it down my throat.

  His eyes were locked on the wine as I lifted the glass and took a swallow. I heard him release his breath as he held up his glass. “Cheers.” He drank a large sip of the deep red liquid.

  He watched as I continued tipping the glass to my lips and the amount in the glass diminished. Suddenly, he let down the act.

  “You found the photo, didn’t you?” he said. When I nodded, he wanted to know where it had been, and he appeared angry and frustrated when I described the hiding place that he obviously had missed.

  “You could have made it so much easier on yourself if you had just listened when I left the messages and the gifts.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What was with Mary Beth? Suddenly after all those years, she wants to turn everybody’s life upside down. The kid was happy with the cactus people. Why couldn’t Mary Beth have left things as they were?” He peered at me. “You didn’t know her, did you?”

  I shook my head and he continued. “She married Lance for the package that came with him—he wasn’t the star his father was, but he had control of the estate. They were on the A-list for invitations everywhere. I met Mary Beth at some action actor’s Christmas party in Malibu. Camille and I’d been married for a couple of years.” Hunter ran his finger along the stem of his wineglass. “While I guess Mary Beth liked all the charge accounts, she was getting a little tired of what went with it. Lance had an alcohol problem and an angry disposition. As for me—Mary Beth was hot and I needed some recreation after all the bowing and scraping I had to do for the Rhead family.

  “When Mary Beth got pregnant, I think it made her loopy in the brain. Where she got the idea I would leave Camille and go off with her—” He shook his head with disbelief. “I had the beginnings of a glorious future. Why would I give that up to go off and live in poorsville? She figured it out eventually and went into the save-her-marriage mode.” His voice rose in intensity. “And now, just as I was about to take over for Alexander Rhead, Mary Beth wanted to ruin everything.” He glared at me. “Right, suddenly I’m going to claim the love child I had twenty-something years ago. Even if Camille was willing to forgive me, Alexander Rhead never would. He’d insist she divorce me. He certainly wouldn’t turn over the production company. He’s a vindictive man, and I have no doubt that he’d put the word out and make sure my career was in ashes. And for what? So some girl who has been okay with who her parents are suddenly gets her world flipped upside down.”

  He glared at me again. “And you. What is any of this to you?” He didn’t wait for answer, but went back to talking about Mary Beth. “When she told me what she was planning to do, I asked her for some time to tell my family first. I gave her every indication I was going along with it completely. It really perturbed me when she left that package with your group.”

  When I looked surprised, he explained. “Yes, we were at the rinky-dink charity sale at that park. Part of my wife’s effort to be a regular person.” He made a few disparaging remarks about Camille’s “life coach” and went back to talking about Mary Beth. “We had dinner a few times to discuss how to make the announcement. We met at her place, and I offered to help with the cooking. I tried lacing her food with arsenic, but all it did was make her sick. The last night I brought her the box of marzipan apples laced with cyanide. She loved that stuff, and I knew she wouldn’t be able to turn it down even if her stomach was queasy. There was no way anyone would have linked us if it hadn’t been for you and that stupid crochet group. Every time Camille mentioned that thing with the pictures that Mary Beth made—” His face grew angry. “Mary Beth showed it to me and said it was an expression of the anguish she’d been going through all those years. My mistake was not to have gotten it from her.”

  “Then you know what all the motifs mean?” He looked confused by the word motifs so I changed it to images, and then he nodded. “What about the strange circles?”

  “She was trying to say not with the split one. You know, like those warning signs showing a picture in a circle with a line across it—no smoking, no swimming, no skating. And the plain circle was supposed to mean yes or is. She was trying to say ‘not Iris, is Mary Beth.’ ” He threw up his hands. “What’s the di
fference? That piece is never going to see the light of day again.” He drained his glass and put it on the table with a soft thud.

  I set my almost-empty glass down and leaned against the table, appearing to lose my footing for a second.

  “Don’t worry,” he said, watching me intently. “It’s just the sleeping pills kicking in. They’re quite potent when mixed with alcohol.” His lips curved into a smirk. “We’ll be pushing off in a few minutes. I want to get out into the channel before I dump you overboard. You won’t be needing this.” He leaned forward to unhook the orange life jacket, but his features suddenly seemed to melt and he sagged against the table.

  “Don’t worry,” I said. “It’s just the sleeping pills kicking in.” He tried to fight the growing grogginess, but his legs buckled and he collapsed on the deck. I reached in my pocket for my cell phone, but before I could dial, a boat approached and I heard a voice through a bullhorn.

  “Put your hands on your head, Mrs. Pink.” Adele and Deputy Daniels were in the front as it pulled alongside the Camille. He looked at me and then saw Hunter crumpled on the deck. Before he even climbed aboard, Deputy Daniels was already taking out his handcuffs.

  CHAPTER 31

  “SEE, PINK, AREN’T YOU GLAD I CAME WITH,” Adele said as I sat behind the counter in handcuffs and she stood in the lobby watching. “I saw you on the boat and knew you were in trouble. Pretty clever on my part that I told him I thought you were stealing it. As soon as I mentioned your name, he double-timed it.”

  A moment later Deputy Daniels came out of a tiny back office holding the keys. Mason followed him out and gave me a thumbs-up. When my hands were released, I shook them out gratefully. Mason took my arm, and the deputy unlocked the door and let us out. Adele came out through the lobby, and the three of us made our way through the crowd. Everyone was talking about what had happened and pointing at me. I had become the center of the island story of the year.

  “Free again,” I said, taking a deep breath of the fresh air as we walked toward the water. “How did you get him to let me go?” Even though our relationship seemed to have faltered, Mason came over by helicopter when I called him.

  “Good lawyering,” Mason answered with a smile. “And my cell phone.” He held it up to demonstrate. “And good work on your part.”

  “More like a lucky break,” I said, shaking my hands again to make sure they were free. I had been so concerned about bumping into the deputy, I had punched Mason’s number into my cell phone just in case. In the midst of the episode with Hunter, I’d pushed the send button without even knowing it. Mason’s voice mail had answered and had recorded Hunter’s whole confession. When Mason played it for the deputy, he finally realized who the bad guy really was.

  I knew that Hunter had already been flown by medevac helicopter to the hospital at Long Beach. But Mason added that when he came to, he was going to be arrested.

  When we got to the dock, Mason stopped. “How did you manage not to drink the wine laced with sleeping pills?”

  “Yeah, Pink, how did you manage that?” Adele piped in. I told him the story of how Dinah and I had reversed our drinks by mistake during our first trip to the island. “We didn’t realize it, but we had gone to the other side of the round table and what had been on my right was now on my left and vice versa. I noticed the imperfection on the doily next to the glass Hunter had prepared for me. When he set down his glass to grab me and followed me to the edge of the boat, I went back to the other side of the table. He was so intent on watching me, he didn’t notice that the drink on his right was now the one he’d made special for me.”

  Adele was speechless. I noticed the Catalina Express was getting ready to load. “That’s us,” I said.

  “Are you sure you won’t come with me? There’s room on the helicopter,” Mason said, loosely gesturing toward the heliport just around the bend. I’d had enough heart-stopping action for one day and passed.

  “How can I thank you?” I said to Mason.

  “I can think of a few ways,” he said with a warm smile.

  “Beginning with giving me a do-over of yesterday.” I knew he meant the phone conversation when he’d mentioned his grandson’s birthday party. But I also knew the do-over was more about phrasing than changing his girlfriend-family policy. “It was fun playing the white-knight rescuer flying in on my trusty-steed helicopter. Life is never dull around you.” He kissed me softly on the cheek.

  “C’mon, Pink, we’re going to miss the boat.” Adele started walking. Mason squeezed my hand and let go, and I rushed after Adele. When we got on the boat, I looked back toward the dock. Mason had gotten into the golf cart cab and was driving away.

  “THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING, HONEY,” MY mother said as I walked my parents out to their SUV. The bags were already in and they were ready to head back to Santa Fe—for a short time, anyway. The She La Las had aced the audition. Not only would they get to do their famous “My Man Dan,” but they would also be doing covers of “Hug Me, Kiss Me, Love Me” and “From One Night to Forever” because the Nonpareilles and the Peaches and Creams didn’t want to leave their retirement communities. The ten-city Nostalgia Tour was culminating in a stop at Carnegie Hall—my mother’s dream come true. And my son Samuel was going along as their musical director.

  “You’ll come to New York, won’t you?” my mother said, stopping at the curb.

  “Miss my mother’s debut Carnegie Hall appearance? Are you kidding? I’ll be in the first row.” My father hugged me and pressed another tube of sunscreen in my hand before he climbed into the driver’s seat. “My daughter the detective. Who would have thought?”

  My mother hugged me for a long time and thanked me again for the cooler with a whole noodle pudding. She started to climb in the SUV but came back. She slipped off one of her silver and turquoise bracelets and put it on my arm. “Honey, you need a little color.” Then she got in and a moment later they drove off. Good-byes were always hard for me, I started to tear up as I walked back to the house.

  AS EXPECTED, HUNTER WAS CHARGED WITH Mary Beth’s murder and an attempt on me. Alexander Rhead sent out a press release announcing that he was staying on as president and that Hunter was taking an extended leave of absence. Camille stuck by Hunter long enough to handle bail, organize a legal team and set him up in a condo before filing for divorce.

  Alexander Rhead appreciated his daughter’s abilities for the first time and was so impressed at how Camille took charge of everything, he offered her the position of coproducer of Rhead Productions’ new show Couples Stranded in Paradise.

  “I want to thank you for my first experience being part of a regular group,” Camille said when she came to her last group meeting. She dropped off a slightly crooked blanket for our project and apologized for not having made a bookmark but the thread crochet just wasn’t her thing. “I’m afraid with my new job, I just won’t have time now. I do plan to keep crocheting, though.” She produced a ball of yarn and the beginning of a scarf. She had thanked us for the support during her ordeal. She turned to CeeCee. “By the way, it was Hunter who wanted to replace you. I told my father that you are the show, and A. R. said he’d make sure your contract was straightened out before they tape the season opener here at the bookstore.” When Camille left, CeeCee looked around the table.

  “I told you she was a spy. But, thank heavens, one with good sense.”

  ALTHOUGH I HAD PROMISED IRIS I WOULDN’T tell Ali who her parents really were, after everything that had happened it didn’t stay a secret. When she was faced with the DNA tests that confirmed her parents were Mary Beth and Hunter, Ali was shocked, particularly when she heard Mary Beth’s original plan to adopt her. Iris stood by her and helped her get through it. I made sure she got the filet piece that Matt Wells had given me, since it had her name on the envelope. Ali didn’t know how to feel about it, but I noticed that she didn’t turn it down. She didn’t want to see Hunter even if he was her father.

  Roseanne and Hal weren’t pleased
to find out they had a new niece because as Mary Beth’s closest blood relative Ali inherited her real mother’s share of the Lance Wells estate. Matt Wells took it fine, however. Ali was much nicer to work with than Mary Beth’s sister and her husband, and Ali was okay with him running things.

  Someone snitched on Hal’s card room—not me—and he had to shut down. Last time I saw the fireplug in a suit, he was taking a dance lesson and was amazingly light on his feet.

  No matter who her biological parents were, Ali was clear her real parents were Iris and Paul, and she was glad to help them out with her newly inherited income.

  She promised to rejoin the crochet group soon.

  THE SAYING THAT THE SHOW MUST GO ON WAS true. Despite all the upheaval, CeeCee got her contract, and the Making Amends film crew did their setup at the bookstore on the appointed day. The director wanted the store to appear real, so Bob was at his station in the café and Adele, Sheila, Dinah and I were gathered around the event table with our crochet work out. William aka Koo Koo was in the children’s area showing off his book to a couple of kids Adele had rounded up. Even Rayaad was at the cashier station. Mrs. Shedd had gotten her hair done and was hanging by the front counter as taping began and CeeCee started to read from the teleprompter.

  “We’re here at Shedd & Royal Books and More in Tarzana, California, to let you the audience be the witness to the righting of an old wrong.”

  They stopped taping and the director said a photo essay of the subject’s story would be inserted for the real show.

  “And now we have the resolution. The moment we’ve all been waiting for,” CeeCee read when the taping resumed.

  Everyone in the bookstore looked around as music came up. With a theatrical flourish, the front door of the bookstore was opened by two men in tuxedos, and a red carpet was rolled out.